[she/her] 21 yrs // just a girl who loves watching too many shows and movies // dedicated to ruining my life by falling in love with fictional characters // occasional writer
If She Knew What She Wants (He'd Be Giving it to Her)
Steve Harrington x Fem!Henderson!Reader
SERIES MASTERLIST
Warnings: Peer pressure, slow burn, yearning/pining, language, sexual language/allusions to sex, eventual SMUT (18+ only, MDNI), violence, angst, mentions of death
Author's Note: ISKWSW is back and ongoing! This is the updated series masterlist, please find the individual parts masterlists below. Cross-posted to my AO3 here.
PART 1: If She Knew What She Wants (He'd Be Giving it to Her)
Pushed together by circumstance, you and Steve Harrington have a no-strings-attached situation that becomes tense when he starts showing interest in Nancy Wheeler.
INTERLUDE I - I'll Set You Free (All I Want is You)
One year on from 7-minutes in Carol's coat closet, and the situation between you and Steve has changed a lot. You're doing your best to move on, but sometimes he makes it just so hard.
PART 2: (I Think I Should) Be With You
Senior year brings an eternal case of 'senioritis', but you're doing fine. Just fine. What more could you ask for when you have your good pals Steve and Nance by your side?
INTERLUDE II - (Something Happens & I'm) Head Over Heels (18+ only, MDNI)
Back to the spring of '83, only a few weeks have passed since Valentine's Day. Steve decides he would do just about anything to get your attention. Even if it means wasting some time.
INTERLUDE III - (I Love it) In Your Room (18+ only, MDNI)
With your graduation day fast approaching, you and Steve are determined to spend as much time together as possible. Unfortunately, the world is set on interrupting you.
PART 3: What I Meant to Say (is that I’m in Love) *new updates*
The summer air brings a different kind of freshness to Hawkins. A new mall, your crappy minimum wage job, a weird conspiracy, your hot boyfriend, and the incessant clock ticking of college on the horizon.
Updated April 22nd, 2026
Comment or message me to be added to the taglist :)
Summary: Trapped overnight in an elevator, you do your best to prevent spiralling. The situation, however, is not improved by what awaits you when you escape.
Word Count: 4.9k
Tags: Language, sexual language/allusions to sex (MDNI), angst, mentions of violence, mentions of death
PREVIOUS CHAPTER -- PART 3 MASTERLIST
Part of the 'If She Knew What She Wants' Series
July 2nd, 1985
“Robin, what size shoe are you? Switch with me.”
She eyes your roller skates with hesitation. You’d already taken them off after the elevator dropped, not quite trusting the stability of it. “I don’t trust shoes that move.”
“What?” You give her an incredulous look. “You know what, doesn’t matter. Please? I wanna climb on the roof of this thing with Dustin and Steve.”
“Just do it in your socks.”
“I am not climbing onto an elevator roof without shoes on. You don’t even have to wear the skates, just let me borrow yours.”
Steve and Dustin had clambered their way onto the elevator’s roof through the access hatch. You were all hoping for a ladder to climb your way back to the surface. They’d shouted down that there was no way you were getting back up. That you were hundreds of feet underground.
Whilst you trusted their judgement, you weren’t gonna believe it until you saw it yourself.
“Where are your shoes then?” Robin scoffs. “Don’t you have anything useful in that bag?”
“Uh, yeah, heaps. Just not shoes!”
At the sound of your raised voice, Steve pokes his head down through the access hatch. He frowns, deciding to drop back into the elevator with a dull thud. He sends a curious look your way but chooses to remain silent as he watches.
“Like what then?” Robin asks.
You rifle through the bag, holding up the items as you count them off. “Water bottle, snack bars—we'll have to ration them, by the way. The Russian dictionary, my repair kit—with screwdrivers because, again, I’m not an idiot. A map--”
Erica scoffs. “What are you, a girl scout?”
“Worse. A doomsday prepper.” You mumble. After the last two years, you’d gotten scarily concerned about always having the essentials on you. A bit of this, a bit of that. It had come in handy more than once. “Uh, I’ve also got Band-Aids, normal ones and blister ones. A first aid kit, plus Tylenol, and my ‘whacking’ flashlight.”
“I’m sorry,” Robin’s voice is high and sharp. “Your ‘whacking’ flashlight?”
“Yeah, you know? For when I’m walking back to the car in the dark, in case I need to... whack someone. It’s a weapon.”
Steve sighs. “I miss when you carried around the crossbow.”
“A crossbow? What crossbow?” Robin stammers.
“I promise when it’s fixed you can carry it around for me, Steve.”
He shakes his head at the ground. “Should’ve gotten it fixed by now...”
“Whilst I am talented at many things, unfortunately, carpentry does not fall under that umbrella. It’s not like you went and got the bat out from the car, either.” Your voice grows louder as you continue. “So, I’m sorry for slacking, but I somehow didn’t expect to end up in a Russian elevator!”
The room freezes at your outburst, you can even hear Dustin’s footsteps above you stilling. You feel like you can’t breathe, tongue suddenly dry and your throat constricting. The air... was too stagnant. It smelled of chemical cleaner and metal...
And you’d just yelled at Steve.
“Hey, Erica...” Robin gestures to the girl. “How about we go talk, in this corner—over here?”
You don’t miss the way both of them are staring at you. Erica hums a curt, yet somehow still sassy agreement, and they scoot away from you.
It’s difficult to meet Steve’s eyes as he pulls you aside. Shame washing over you. But there’s no anger in him, at least not directed towards you. Only concern. His hands are gentle on your arms, one pull away from engulfing you into him.
“Okay, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, baby.” You babble. The apology doesn’t make you feel any better. But it wasn’t for you. “That was shitty of me, I just—I think I need a second. This whole thing, it’s a lot.”
He leans in closer, voice dropping. Just for you. “I know. It’s alright, it’s gonna be okay, remember?”
That’s what he'd said last night.
Steve always said that. He said it, and it was true: you both always came back, always recovered. But along the way, people had died. And this wasn't the Upside Down or the idiots at the Lab, this was the USSR you’d stumbled upon for fuck’s sake. A different beast.
That late-night promise, one so intimate, felt far away now.
“Yeah, just-- I don’t know. This time, it feels... different.”
“Y/N... Please--”
“I just need a moment.” You clear your throat. “To myself.”
Steve does a good enough job at hiding the shock he feels. You only notice it in the small details, eyes widening ever so slightly, nostrils twitching. Agitation. He’s holding back, because you never get into fights. Not anymore. And you talked to him. About everything.
But this... you were suddenly closed off. It unsettled him.
“Okay, y-yeah. Sure.” Steve nods. Swallowing thickly. “As much time as you need. I’ll just... be up on the roof.”
“Can you stay, actually? And sit nearby... quietly.”
“Whatever you want.” He rushes out. Because he means it. Leaning his forehead against yours, your noses brush. “I love you.”
Your eyes flutter shut as you move into him, pressing a firm kiss. “Yeah. I love you, too.”
And then, you part. Steve respects your space, your request. And waits there with you, for as long as it takes for you to speak to him again. To process what you were dealing with.
You had a bright future ahead of you, or so you were told. College, a prestigious job practically already promised as long as you worked hard enough for it, and a boyfriend who actually loved you. And you believed him.
But you couldn’t shake the feeling that this was going to turn out worse than before.
July 3rd, 1985
The night was long.
Or however you’re supposed to say it in Russian. ‘Ночь была длинной’ from what you gathered. You’d spent half of it with your screwdriver stuck in the wall, trying to pry apart the panel which had kept you locked in there. The other half had been spent studying that damn dictionary.
Quick, how do you say, ‘We surrender, please don’t kill us!’? Useful phrase.
Curled into the uncomfortable metal walls of the elevator, sleep did not come. Steve noticed. He said nothing, but he did nonetheless. Joining you at your side, letting you slowly fall against his shoulder until you finally nodded off.
He talked to Robin with a hushed voice, trying to figure out what could be done. Nothing, was the conclusion they came to.
Dustin’s voice echoes through the metal, reverberating as he taps consistently on his walkie-talkie. You can’t help the groan that escapes your lips, eyes screwed tight against the too-bright fluorescent lighting. Steve shifts against you, arm coming to wrap around your back as fingers trace up and down your forearm. You press further into the crook of his neck.
“What time is it?” You murmur into his skin, inhaling deeply. He still smelled like the vanilla of Scoops, the tips of his hair holding onto the scent of his shampoo: wheat and honey. His skin a bit musky from the stress of the night. It relaxes you.
Until you hear Dustin’s grating voice again.
“Code red, I repeat, code red.”
“S’not quite nine yet.” Steve answers, fighting a yawn. “It’s alright. You can go back to sleep. Nothing’s happenin’.”
“Code red, does anyone copy?”
Begrudgingly, you lean away. Robin and Erica are already poking around the elevator, Dustin up on the roof. You raise your eyes; you can make out his silhouette through the grating. “Yeah, I can't sleep with Dusty yapping like that.”
“We are innocent children trapped under Starcourt Mall.”
“I’ll go tell him to quit it.”
“Tell him to stop wasting the battery on his walkie, too. The signal will hardly reach from down here, anyway.”
“Okay.” Steve agrees. From his sluggish movement as he withdraws from you, you can tell he hadn’t slept at all. He presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth. The warmth leaves with him, and you’re left cold against the wall.
“The Red Army has infiltrated Hawkins, and if we are found, they will torture and kill us.”
“Hey!” Steve’s voice rings out as he balances on the box, halfway through the hatch. His voice starts to fade as he drops his tone. “Y/N’s trying to sleep, can you, like, talk quieter? And you gotta take it easy on...”
You only catch the remaining snippets as Steve pulls himself fully up onto the roof. Lazily, your eyes make their way to Robin. Poking at the open wall panel.
“You wanna try the screwdriver?” You ask her. She jumps slightly as she turns to look at you. “Might be a faster way to electrocute yourself.”
“Yeah, well, the sight of you and dingus all cuddled up made me want to die. So, I might as well try, right?” Robin slams the buttons a few times as she glares at you. It’s not anger, per se, just something to suggest that she’s deeply unimpressed. At what? You’re not sure.
Suddenly, the sound of water hitting the wall fills the space. Except it’s most definitely not water. You can see the stain on the opposite side of the elevator, where there’s a gap between the metal and concrete wall. “God, your boyfriend is so disgusting.” Robin groans. She then raises her voice. “Could you redirect your stream, please. Ugh.”
Wordlessly, the trail moves along the corner and behind the metal wall. You loved your boyfriend, for many reasons, but you had to admit that was an ick. You cringe just as much as Robin.
Erica picks up the green-liquid cylinder, giving it a brief once-over before promptly slamming the glass side against one of the large metal barrels.
“Hey, hey! Be careful! Careful, careful--” Robin shouts as she runs over to the girl.
You jump to your feet, following her. “Erica, what the hell is wrong with you?”
“We don’t even know what that is!” Robin snatches it out of the girl’s hands. Erica makes a grab at getting it back as Robin tosses the cylinder into your hands. It almost slips through, but you catch it just in time to hold it out of Erica’s grasp.
“Ah, ah!” You say as she takes a swipe. “Robin’s right. And we are not cracking this thing open to find out.”
“Why not? It could be useful.” She argues.
Robin pauses. “Useful... how?”
“We can survive down here a long time without food, but if the human body doesn’t get water, it will die.”
“I hate to break it to you, but this,” Robin grabs onto your wrist holding the cylinder, raising it in demonstration. “Is not water.”
“And anyway, kid, I have some water with me.” You could understand where she was coming from, your lips already cracking, a bit dry. The mostly-full water bottle sitting in your bag is tempting. “We just have to share it.”
“Number one, gross. I do not wanna share the same nasty water as you all. And number two, how long is that even gonna last us?” She then points at the cylinder. “That’s a liquid. And if it comes down to me drinking that shit or dying of thirst, I drink.”
Erica grabs the cylinder from your hand as Robin finally drops your wrist. You share a surprised look with her as Robin scoffs.
“It’s too early for this shit.” You say, turning sharply and grabbing your roller skates, knotted together by the laces. You sling them around your neck. They settle heavy, but at this point, you don’t care. You finally start making the precarious climb onto the roof. “Hey, incoming!”
“Whoa, hold on. Hold on,” Steve calls back. The metal creaks under his steps as he appears above you. His hair falls over his forehead. “Coming up?”
“Yeah.” Your fingers curl around the cold metal of the hatch as you climb through. Steve hovers, arms ready to catch onto you if needed. Your socked feet meet the slippery surface of the roof, but you stay steady. “I thought I’d come see what all the excitement is about. And to confiscate Dustin’s walkie-talkie.”
“Hey!” Dustin protests. “I’m trying to get us help.”
“The only thing that will help you is if you shut up before I can strangle ya.”
“Always so grumpy in the morning.” He mumbles, shooting Steve a pointed look, requesting back up.
Steve shrugs in reply. “I don’t know what to tell you, man. She’s always nice to me.”
“Sometimes I’m not.” You give his arm a gentle swat.
“Yeah, but sometimes I like it.”
Dustin makes a face at the pair of you, one you’re used to seeing more often than not when Steve is around. Dustin loved hanging out with Steve and liked hanging out with you well enough. When you were together, though... It’s like Dustin thought girls still had cooties. And that you were infecting Steve with your lameness by extension.
“Hey dude,” Steve chastises. “You can’t be making a face like that when you’ve just been chattin’ my ear off about your girl.”
You frown. “His girl?”
“Yeah, Suzie.” Steve nods. Suzie? The girl Dustin had been trying to contact from camp. Sure, when Dusty had told you about her, you got ‘crush’ vibes. But... his girl? “Dustin’s girlfriend?”
You point an accusatory finger at Dustin. “You never told me you asked her out!”
“I didn’t?” Dustin’s expression is almost panicked. Like he hadn’t considered telling you before about the fact that he'd asked Suzie out.
You’re not sure why it bothers you. Maybe it’s because Steve is the only boyfriend you’ve ever had, and you didn't officially get together until you were 17. Dustin was so, so young.
As your hundreds of thoughts echo around the elevator shaft, Robin pops up through the roof hatch.
“Sorry to interrupt this, gossip session,” She waves her hand between the three of you. “But we’ve got company.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Company?” Steve gawks.
“Yeah, I heard movement through the door. What’s the plan, we hiding up here?”
“Shit. Well, I don’t know where else we could hide.” You shrug at her. “Get Erica up here, too.”
The group camps out for a few minutes of tense silence. Peering over the edge of the ceiling grating, flashing concerned looks back and forth.
The elevator’s large door creaks open, rising in a way that reminds you of the sketchy elevator at the Hawkins Lab last year. Two men enter, speaking in Russian as they move the boxes out of the space. One of them bites a cigarette between their lips, the smoke curling upward. If you hadn’t quit smoking, one of those would probably feel pretty good right now.
You lift your gaze back up, to find Steve already staring at you. You match him for a second, before flitting your eyes back down at the men and up again. They’re your opportunity for escape. Steve nods, raising his index finger to his lips in silence. You hope he’s not about to do something stupid.
Knowing Steve, he probably will.
As the Russians leave, his eyes settle on the cylinder that Erica brought up with her, clutched between both hands. He motions for her to give it to him, which she does with hesitance. And as the metal of the elevator door starts to groan, mechanisms whirring to slide shut, Steve jumps into action.
You feel your heart seize, worrying that the Russian men might still be there. But as Steve clambers to the floor of the elevator, sliding the cylinder in place to stop the door just in time, you settle with a different type of adrenaline. Freedom.
Erica and her ‘My Little Pony’ backpack are through the door first, then Dustin. Steve insisting, ‘go faster’ as Robin ducks down under the gap.
“Come on, baby,” Steve says, pulling your bag and roller skates away from you. He shoves them under the door as the glass of the cylinder creaks at the pressure. You don’t like the look of it. “Almost out, let’s go.”
Dropping low onto your front, you slide under the door. Catching Steve’s hand as you go, you scramble to the other side and he follows.
The glass creaks again, lightning-like cracks splintering as the green liquid bubbles up. Your eyes go wide as Dustin pulls on your shoulders.
“Steve!” Your and Dustin's voices mingle, coming out as a warning.
“Come on, Steve. Let’s go!” Robin calls.
He clears the gap, you pull him into you, just in time for the glass to shatter. The metal door slams down, smashing the remainder of the cylinder as the liquid splashes onto the floor. It hisses, sizzling and burning through the metal and concrete.
“Jesus Christ.” Steve huffs, making his way back onto his feet. He offers you his hand, pulling you to your feet as the group inspects the green liquid.
Robin turns towards Erica, taking a sarcastic tone. “You still wanna drink that?”
The liquid was clearly some sort of corrosive acid. What it was for, or why the Russians were sneaking it beneath a mall in Indiana of all places, was still a confusing mystery. So was the said location the elevator had brought you to.
“Holy mother of God.” Dustin gasps from behind you.
You turn, as does the group, to look towards what he’s gawking at. It’s a seemingly endless tunnel of metal walls, floor and ceiling. And there was seemingly no other routes to take.
Steve lets out an exasperated huff. “Well... hope you guys are in good shape.”
“Jesus--” You whine. “I mean, it looks like the fucking Death Star in here.”
Dustin snorts back a laugh at your dismay.
You thought you’d gotten your fill of creepy tunnels last year. Albeit these ones were a lot less disgusting. The floor was smooth, seemingly nice and flat with no elevation. And you were not about to walk whatever distance it ended up being in your socks. “Alright, I’m putting my skates back on.”
The group takes a moment to reset as you grab your roller skates and sit down. You’re sliding a boot on when Steve crouches in front of you. He doesn’t say anything, just settles his eyes on your form, watching. As you’re tying up the laces on your first skate, he reaches for the second.
Gentle hands lift your leg by the heel. It’s your bad leg, the one that got torn up by the Demo-dog. Although it healed, you still felt sensitive about it sometimes. You don’t mind Steve’s touch, though. As featherlight as when he patched you up in that bus.
You clear your throat. “Hey, pretty boy. How are you feeling about all of this?”
“Well, I mean, not great. Obviously.” He stifles a laugh. “But, uh... We’re gonna find a way outta here. We’ll get a key card or something, and then we’ll get back up to the mall and call Hopper, right?”
“Sure. But we’re not exactly known for our plans going... as planned.”
“We’re scrappy. We get the job done.”
You smile, biting your lip as Steve starts pulling the laces of your roller skate tight. He begins working the remainder into a bow. “Scrappy, I like that.”
“Yeah, well, who needs the A-Team when you’ve got...” He looks up as he finishes double knotting the bow, glancing at Dustin, Erica, and Robin. “Us.”
“At least there’s less kids to babysit this time.”
“Oh my God,” He groans. “Could you imagine if Mike or Max were here.”
You do imagine it; you’d have to practically keep those two on leashes to stop them from going at each other's throats. The only members of the Party that would be of much use in your current situation would be El or Lucas. Such sweethearts.
“Don’t even joke about it.”
“Nah, babe, just picture it. Wheeler rolling his eyes at us when we tell him he has to walk down that great, long corridor.” Steve holds his two palms flat out in front of you. You place your hands in his, and he stands to help you up. “Come on, let’s get going. It’ll be like one of those dates in those magazines you read sometimes.”
“Steve, I think a corridor in a Russian base is very different from a stroll on a pretty beach.”
He gives a gentle groan at your joke, head rolling back. You shuffle on your skates, still attached to Steve by your palms.
“But,” You sigh. “Sure. It’ll be like a date because I’m here with you.”
Steve smiles at you, one of those soft ones reserved for the quiet moments. When it’s just you and him, and you can forget about the rest of the world. No Demogorgons or Upside Down or evil Russians. No college in three months' time, or shitty minimum wage jobs. You lean forward and kiss him.
“God, they’re at it again.” Dustin whines from across the space.
You can see him shaking his head, curly hair bouncing under his cap. Erica and Robin stand beside him, unimpressed as they watch.
Robin scoffs. “You two need to get a room.”
On your way down the long corridor, the conversation had turned to what the green acid was and what the Russians were using it for. Dustin had suggested nuclear weaponry. Somehow, you doubted that.
“But if they’re building something. Why here?” Robin questions. “I mean, Hawkins. Seriously? Of all places. At the very best, we’re a toilet stop on your way to Disneyland, but maybe that’s it...”
In front of you, Dustin and Steve still as Robin and Erica keep walking. You’d been following at a small distance, letting the group set the pace. You stop as the boys turn to face each other.
“Well, we know what makes Hawkins so special, don’t we?” Your voice is low.
Steve nods. “You think the Russians know? About--”
“They could.” Dustin says.
“So, it’s connected?”
You sigh. Where Hawkins was concerned, it was always the same thing. The Upside Down. “To be fair, it’d be a hell of a coincidence if not. Maybe we just didn’t want to... think about it before.” You know that you sure didn’t.
“But, how?”
“I don’t know,” Dustin shakes his head. “But it’s...”
“Possible.” He and Steve say together.
Their little ‘twin moment’ would be almost cute if it weren’t for the topic of conversation. It curdles inside you. That all of this, what you’d thought was a funny Scooby-Doo-style mystery, turned into your exact fears. Again. You felt like an idiot.
“I’m sorry,” Robin cuts in. Voice echoing through the hallway. “Is there something you’d like to share with the class?”
You open your mouth to say something. It felt wrong, that you knew what you were potentially walking into. Memories of the Hawkins Lab fill your mind; how do you even begin to tell her and Erica about the last two years? Steve catches your eye with a small shake of the head.
You’re saved by a walkie-talkie, once again.
From Erica’s backpack it springs to life, spouting out more Russian.
“Walkie.” Dustin and Steve seem to share your relief.
“Hell yes, we’re in range!” You push between the boys, sliding over to Erica, who’s digging through her bag on the floor.
She passes the walkie to Robin, who extends the antenna. The group huddles close, and she repeats the words back. “Поездка в Китай звучит неплохо, если вы будете осторожны.”
It sounds terribly familiar. “It’s the code.”
Dustin nods. “Wherever the broadcast is coming from--”
“It’s coming in strong.” You say. When you’d picked it up before on Cerebro, it’d been shaky, even with the extra bandwidth. But now you were a couple hundred feet below the surface... “So, it’s gotta be close.”
Robin’s eyes flash to you. “And if there’s one thing we know about that signal...”
“It can reach the surface.” Dustin finishes.
And for a few moments, you can feel hope return. Your hand settles on top of Steve’s beside you, sparing a glance at him. As your eyes lock you can see it in him, too.
“Let’s go.” Robin says.
She bounds off, with endless energy it would seem. The rest of the group is a bit more sluggish, the uncomfortable night and long walk taking its toll. In a split-second decision, you decide to leave Steve’s side and skate up alongside Robin.
“Oh, good,” She huffs when you join her. “So, you’re not permanently attached to the dingus, after all. I was beginning to wonder if you would need an intervention.”
“Sorry, uh, I know we’re not always the most mindful about PDA. Dustin complains about it a lot, so I guess I kinda tune it out now.”
Robin hums, noncommittally. It’s not so much unimpressed, more just... unsure. “You know, he talks about you all the time, right? Steve’s always saying how smart you are, but I guess I didn’t realise that you and your brother were these crazy genius ‘wunderkinds’.”
“I mean,” You can’t help the blush crawling up your cheeks. “Dustin’s pretty smart, yeah. I try not to let it get to his head, though. He’d become insufferable.”
“You’re going to M.I.T. at the end of the summer, right? You’ve gotta be pretty smart for that. And I saw the way you were tinkering with that boombox the other day. The elevator controls, too.”
So, Steve had actually told her a fair bit about you, then. Interesting. Even more interesting is how Robin’s noticed what you’ve been up to.
“Yep, that’s the plan. If we ever get outta this death trap at least.”
“And Steve’s staying here,” Robin says. In Hawkins, she implies. It’s not a question. “Haven’t you been together for years? I thought you’d be the type to rent a U-Haul and force him to go with you. Not let hi outta your sight, or something.”
“Not let him out of my sight?” You frown.
What the hell did that mean?
And she was wrong; you hadn’t been together for years. Only seven, almost eight months, officially. You could understand how she’d got it mixed up, though. Between whatever you and Steve were in the past, to being friends whilst he and Nancy were together. Plus, there was the small matter of Steve admitting to being in love with you for nearly two years.
Not that Robin knew any of that.
“Yeah, ‘cause of the way dingus is always flirting with the customers. Figured you’d be the type to put him on a tight leash.”
Your mind flashes to the whiteboard Robin had kept score on. Six-to-zero on ‘You Suck’.
“It was for your stupid bet. I told him I didn’t mind it. I really don’t care.”
“I don’t know.” Robin shrugs. “Maybe it’s just the way you two are all over each other. You don’t seem the kind of couple for long distance.”
And that’s one comeback too far. She’d officially overstepped.
“Okay, Robin, I promise that I mean this in the least bitchy way possible—but why are you trying to psychoanalyse my relationship?”
“I-- I’m not!” She stammers, glancing over her shoulder at Dustin and Erica, but mostly at Steve. “It’s just girl talk, right?”
“I’ve got two 13-year-old girls who I babysit sometimes that give me enough girl talk.” El and Max. You hope they are staying out of trouble. “Girl talk would be ‘wow, Steve’s so cute’ or ‘he has nice hair’ or even, ‘he seems like a good kisser’. Not, ‘how are you planning on maintaining your relationship whilst living on the other side of the country’.”
“That is not what I meant.” She denies.
“Yeah, well, it sure sounds like you’re checking if he’s gonna be available come September.”
“Available? What, no! Y/N, you’ve got this all wrong, I swear--”
“Listen, we’re good. Steve and I are good; all of this is just a fucking blip on the radar. We’ve dealt with worse shit that I don’t like dwelling on for the sake of my mental state. So, I think it would be best to move the fuck on from this conversation.”
“Oh, okay. Sure.”
Robin falls silent, the awkward atmosphere falling between you. You can’t help clenching and shaking out your wrist. Nervous tick. From back when it healed from its dislocation. Another thing you don’t like to think about.
Behind you, Erica and Dustin are bickering about something again; Steve interjects as referee every so often.
“And I’m sorry, by the way.” Robin sniffs. “I really didn’t mean to come across like that.”
Maybe your words had bit a little too harsh. To be fair, that used to be a pretty common occurrence for you. Bad decisions recurring. You thought you’d finally broken those bad habits.
It wasn’t that you really thought Robin was... checking if Steve was available. Or would be. Or that you were jealous of the girls he flirted with for the bet. Or that you were worried about leaving him here in Hawkins. Those weren’t really the issue at all.
The issue was that you could already feel how much you were gonna miss Steve. Miss seeing him every day and chatting with him every night. And kissing him senseless until neither of you could breathe any more. That easy-going smile he gives you when he grabs your hand, tracing the freckles and moles across his shoulders, hearing him call you ‘baby’, and the smell of his perfectly styled hair. You were going to miss everything.
i just saw a post on reddit titled "the writer is cooking but the food doesn't agree with me" and it was about OP clicking off a fic because they don't like the direction it's going in. slightly different context but can we all be more like this reddit OP. i think "the writer is cooking but the food doesn't agree with me" should be the new "don't like don't read." dead doves may give you diarrhea but don't make that everyone else's problem.
Summary: With the code cracked, your group sets out to break into the room where the mysterious cargo is being held. Along the way, you’re scammed by a 10-year-old girl.
Word Count: 5.5k
Tags: Language, sexual language/allusions to sex (MDNI), mentions of violence, mentions of death
PREVIOUS CHAPTER -- PART 3 MASTERLIST
Part of the 'If She Knew What She Wants' Series
July 2nd, 1985
"Steve, have you seen my shoes anywhere?”
You’re hopping on one leg, pulling a sock on as you balance against the balustrade overlooking the living room, whilst Steve moves around downstairs. You’d learned early on to keep a spare set of clothes at Steve’s, you spent enough time there that you quickly grew tired of showing up in yesterday’s outfits. What didn’t help was the fact that your shoes seemed to disappear every single time you slept over, though.
“Uhm... no? But your skates are down here!” He calls back.
Not very helpful.
“I need my shoes, Steve.”
“Okay, Cinderella, chill.” He holds his hands up in mock-surrender as he makes his way back upstairs. “We’ll find ‘em.”
You re-enter his room, ducking down onto your knees with a stretched arm reaching under the bed. “We’re going to be late for work.”
“Well, then maybe Dustin will just have to cycle to the mall for once?” Steve shrugs. He makes a show of searching under his desk, picking up your discarded clothes from last night. “I mean, we could leave now if you think you can live in your roller skates for the day?”
“Steve.”
He bristles slightly at your curt tone, dropping the clothes into the laundry hamper. “I mean, I’m gonna be driving anyway. And if you get really sick of them, we could go to ‘Kaufmans’ later and get you a new pair.”
“I’m not buying the Russian shoes, Steve.”
“Well, we don’t know what was in those boxes.”
“Exactly.” You sigh. Okay, maybe you were being a bit dramatic. You could survive a day in roller skates, right? Stairs might be an issue, but other than that, you could manage. “Fine, you win. I'll pretend you haven’t hidden my shoes because you think I look hot in my skates. Let’s go.”
“Wait, what? I didn’t hide ‘em, I swear.”
The accusation meant nothing really. You had no proof. No proof that he either hid your shoes or that wearing the roller skates turned him on... Other than the way his eyes lingered on your legs every time he came by the rink during your shifts. “I know they do it for you, Harrington. Same way that little sailor suit does it for me.”
Mouth hanging open in shock, he glances at the shirt across his chest, pulling on the fabric as if it’s offensive to him.
“It does?!”
“Hey, lover girl!” A sharp whistle captures your attention from the other side of the rink. You turn at the sound, to be met with Robin’s grinning face. She waves at you with a sweeping arm and a wide hand. “Over here!”
Frowning at her, you round the side of the rink. On your way you help steady a little girl from falling flat on her face.
“Hi, Robin. What are you doing here? Where’s Steve?”
“I was wondering how long it was before your break? Think we’ve had another breakthrough. Or I have, at least.” She rambles, ignoring the latter question.
“Oh?”
It was strange seeing Robin here, under the flashing neon lights of the Stardust. It didn’t really seem like her scene. Plus, you’d hardly seen her outside of Scoops before the previous day, and now she was seeking you out? You supposed she was getting really wrapped up in this Russian business.
“Yeah, figured I’d show you and the dingus at the same time. Two birds, one stone.”
“Sure, uh...” You glance around for the other staff, counting how many are about the place. “Listen, I probably can take my break now, but we gotta sneak outta here before someone tries to stop me?”
“Is this like, an ‘ask forgiveness rather than permission’ situation or... are they gonna hold you hostage?”
You pull the gate to the rink open as you step out, Robin falling in step beside you as you make your best effort to skate across the carpet in the direction of the staff room.
“Bit of both, honestly. Some kind of bullshit always goes down if I try to go on break.”
Behind you, there’s a crash. You throw a glance backwards, spotting the cause of it. Your coworker, Stephanie, splayed out on the ground with a young boy beside her. The pair are covered in spilled sodas, the tray and cups rolling away in different directions as they begin bickering.
“Huh, looks like your bullshit just happened.” Robin snorts.
“Yeah, no. I’m gonna pretend I didn’t see that. Come on.”
You make a renewed dash for the staff room, Robin close behind. You pass the lockers, barely pausing to snatch up your bag, no shoes to change into today. You make a rolling sweep at the punch cards, marking that you're out for an hour’s lunch break. Permission be damned.
You’re out in the delivery corridor when you speak up again. “So, what’s the breakthrough, then? We working on a new plan?”
“Kinda. Dingus seems to think he has the Herculean ability to knock out one of those guards. He wants to sneak up on them. Which is totally crazy, right? I mean, we all saw those guns they had last night. Plus, Dustin said Steve’s never won a fight. Is that true?”
You cringe at the memory. Last year, Billy, and the year before, Jonathan. The sight of Steve’s horribly bruised-up face, that had lingered for far too long after. Although... he’d made valiant efforts against Demogorgon and –dogs alike.
“Well, that’s not completely accurate. But yeah, Steve’s not got the best track record when it comes to fights.”
“Just how many people has he fought?”
“Eh...” You shrug non-committedly. Either way, you didn’t much fancy the thought of Steve fighting someone with a giant automatic rifle.
“Well, anyway. I was thinking there’s a way we can do this without fighting anyone. You know, the sane way? Plus, you wouldn’t believe what 20 bucks will get you at the County Recorder’s Office.” She reaches the door for Scoops, pulling it open for you to glide through.
Dustin and Steve are already there, slouching about. They straighten up as you and Robin enter the space.
“Y/N?” Steve’s eyebrows shoot up. “What are you doing with Robin?”
“She came and got me from the rink.”
“Oh, cool.” He nods, Adam's apple bouncing as he swallows whatever other questions he has. He pulls out a chair at the small table, making a show of taking your bag from you and gesturing you into the seat as he shoots Robin a look.
She doesn’t seem to care, reaching into her backpack and retrieving a folded wad of paper. Shaking it out, she lays it flat on the table in front of you, leaning over it. “Starcourt Mall. The complete blueprints.”
“Not bad.” Dustin says to her, eyes bright with enthusiasm.
Steve braces his hands against your shoulders, leaning his head close to yours as you study the map.
Robin points to the corner. “So, this is us, Scoops,” She moves her finger along to the top. “And this is where we want to get.”
It’s all a mess of lines and symbols. You follow the trail of corridors, they don’t connect. Steve seems to notice, too. “I mean, I don’t really see a way in.”
“There’s not, if you’re talking exclusively about doors.” Robin pulls away the floor plan you’d been studying, revealing a new sheet of paper. The inner workings of the mall. It’s all wiring and pipes and the HVAC system. You reach out, finger tracing where Scoops was on the map... up, up, up, connecting all the way to the loading bay.
“Air ducts.” Dustin breathes.
Of course. The invisible pathways and junctions right above your head.
Robin grins at him. “Exactly. Turns out this secret room needs air just like any old room.” She makes her way to-and-from the whiteboard on the wall, grabbing a bright red marker. “And these air ducts lead all the way...”
She draws a line matching where you’d just traced, finishing with a glance up at the vent in the wall.
“I’m gonna climb in there.” Dustin announces.
It takes you right back to last year, when Dart dug that hole through your storm cellar wall. The tunnel was still there, of course, just covered by a thick wall of cinder blocks now. “Dude, what is up with you and wanting to climb through mysterious tunnels?”
“What, you think you can fit in there, Y/N?” He gives you an incredulous look. “By the way, do you happen to have a screwdriver on you?”
You scoff. He should know you better than that. “’Course I do, Dusty. I’m not an idiot.”
Ferrying between houses had proved a useful side-effect, considering you still have your full repair kit on you from fixing Hopper’s boombox. Steve takes his pick of your screwdrivers before clambering up the ladder and removing the vent.
“Flashlight.” He says to Dustin, and they switch tools. “Thank you.”
Steve peers into the duct. “Yeah, I don’t know, man. I don’t know if you can fit in here. It’s, like... super tight.”
“I can fit. Trust me. No collar bones, remember.”
“Uh, excuse me?” Robin asks, confused.
“Oh, he’s, uh... Yeah, he’s got some disease.” Steve starts as he hops off the ladder. Dustin starts climbing up. “Chry, uh... It’s Chrydo, um... Something. Yeah, I dunno. He’s missing bones and stuff. He can bend like Gumbo.”
What the--?
“You mean Gumby.” Robin corrects.
“I’m pretty sure it’s Gumbo.”
“It’s Gumby, and it’s called Cleidocranial Dysplasia.” You interrupt their bickering, knowing that it was going nowhere. Is that what Steve felt like when you argued with Dustin? You could just about understand the frustration bleeding through every time you’d heard him say, ‘Good God, Hendersons’.
Dustin’s halfway into the vent as he calls out. “Steve, just shut up and push me!”
“Okay.” Steve pulls a face at you as he turns back to Dustin. He steps up onto the ladder, grabbing the boy’s feet. “I’ll push ya.”
“Not my feet, dumbass. Push my ass.”
“What?”
You groan. “Steve, do not do that.”
“Don’t listen to Y/N, touch my butt! I don’t care!”
“Jesus Christ...” You whine, bracing your hand against your head. You really don’t want to watch your boyfriend try to shove your little brother’s butt through a one-foot gap in the wall.
“I’m sorry, babe. Just turn away, don’t look.” Steve says, taking another step up the ladder.
You do as he says, turning to Robin with a cocked eyebrow to say, ‘can you believe this shit?’
It doesn’t help when Dustin starts yelling. “Come on! Harder! Push harder!”
“I’m pushing!”
“You’re playing with my legs.”
“I’m not playing, I have terrible footing!” In a regrettable instinct, you spare a glance their way. Steve stands, feet braced on split levels of the ladder with Dustin’s legs held over his back. “I’m gonna just shove you, ready? One, two...”
He throws his shoulder into the wall, Dustin barely moving at all.
“That work?” Steve asks.
“One more time.” Dustin responds.
Robin rolls her eyes at you as the counter bell dings.
“Ahoy, sailors!” A whiny voice echoes in from the shop as the bell keeps ringing. “All hands on deck. Ahoy! Come on, get over here and serve me some samples.”
Robin bristles at the sound, an annoyance spreading over her face. Leaning up, you peer through the gap in the window to see the counter. There stands a young girl, covered in bright yellow and pink clothes, pouting as she continues dinging the bell.
You recognise her, just slightly. Lucas’ little sister. “Is that... Erica Sinclair?”
“That short piece of work comes here every day, demands 30 free samples and leaves without buying anything.” Robin groans.
Erica Sinclair, all attitude and high-energy. If you had to take a guess, she was nine, maybe ten. Any time Lucas spoke of her, it seemed she’d found some new way to torment him. You could respect that, from one sister to another. “Short, you say?”
Robin catches on, raising an eyebrow at you. “Are you suggesting...”
“I’m not suggesting shit.” You deny. “I was just considering that, maybe we need someone smaller? Smaller than Dustin. Small enough to fit in that vent. And if the right candidate just happened to be available...”
Robin tilts her head, a slow grin working its way onto her face. “I knew there was a reason I liked you, Henderson.”
Getting Erica to come check out the air duct was surprisingly easy. She seemed to trust you and Dustin despite her scathing remarks about the whole situation. What was less easy was convincing her to go along with the whole plan. Not because she was scared or didn’t want to, no... she was taking it as opportunity to fleece you all for whatever you could offer.
That’s how you ended up crowded around the booth at the front of Scoops. Table covered in copious amounts of ice cream as Steve pushes another banana split in the direction of the girl.
She declines it. “More fudge, please.” Erica was a tough talker, but at least she had manners. “Go on.”
Steve glances in your direction, annoyance written across his face. You nudge him. “Better do as the girl asks. She did say please.”
“Yes, I did.” She hums.
“Alright,” Steve huffs, picking up the split and leaning over to press a kiss to your cheek. His voice drops as his lips pass the shell of your ear. “You were right, by the way. When you skated in here with Robin earlier, my heart skipped a beat.”
You can’t hold back the giggle that slips between your lips. Slapping the back of your hand over your mouth as you swat him away from you, Dustin shoots you an unimpressed look.
“Something to share with the class?” Robin crosses her arms.
“Oh no. No, no.” Most definitely not.
Warmth spreads across your face as you shoot Steve a dirty look across the shop floor. Not the good kind of dirty, either.
“Anyway,” Robin says to Erica, picking up the map of the ducts. “You see this? This is the route you’re gonna take. Then we just wait ‘till the last delivery goes out tonight. Then you knock out the grate, jump down, and open the door.”
“Then you find out what’s in those boxes?”
“Yes,” You nod. “And we all stay well away from anything remotely dangerous. Got it?”
Erica considers it over a spoonful of ice cream. “Mhm... I thought you said this guard was armed?”
“Yes, but he won’t be there.” Dustin assures.
“And booby-traps?”
Robin’s brows raise. “Booby-traps?”
“Lasers, spikes in the wall?”
“This isn’t the ‘Temple of Doom’, kid.” You scoff. “We don’t know what those Ruskies are up to, but I doubt it’s a snake pit.”
“You know what this half-baked plan of yours sounds like to me? Child endangerment.”
That was probably a fair assessment. But after you’d went along with the whole plan last year, letting Max drive Billy’s car and taking the kids into the tunnel to start a giant fire, your judgment may not be the best anymore.
Robin’s eyes widen. “We’ll be in radio contact with you the whole time--”
“Ah, ah, ah!” Erica cuts her off, dramatically emphasising every word coming out of her mouth. “Child endangerment!”
Oh, you get it now. This is all a show. A dramatic reaction to make you all panic and give her exactly what she wants. Yup, that’s a sister after your own heart.
“Erica? Hi, uh...” Dustin draws her attention. “We think these Russians want to do harm to our country. Great harm. Don’t you love your country?”
“You can’t spell ‘America’ without ‘Erica’.” She starts slurping loudly on a root beer float.
You take a beat, and then nod. “Well, that is true...”
“Uh, yeah. Yeah.” Dustin agrees. “Oddly, that’s totally true. So— So don’t do it for us. Do it for your country. Do it for your fellow man. Do this for America... Erica.”
“Ooh! I just got the chills.” She smiles, setting her cup down. Dustin nods eagerly. “Oh, yeah, from this float. Not your speech. Know what I love most about this country? Capitalism.”
Oh, well that was a curveball.
She continues. “Do you know what capitalism is?”
“Yeah.” The three of you mumble.
“It means this is a free market system. Which means people get paid for their services, depending on how valuable their contributions are. And it seems to me, my ability to fit into that little vent is very, very valuable to you all.”
You had to admire her tenacity.
“So, you want my help? This ‘USS Butterscotch’ better be the first of many. And I’m talking free ice cream for life.”
She finishes with a bite of a maraschino cherry.
“Well, kid.” You heave out a sigh. “You’re gonna make a great lawyer one day.”
“Are you sure about this whole thing with Erica?” Steve asks as he leads you down the corridor by the hand. Robin and Dustin had let you go ahead, considering you would need extra time to make it up the stairs to the lookout spot in your skates. They were going to run Erica through the plan once again. “I mean, she keeps calling it ‘child endangerment’.”
“Well, firstly, I always got the impression from Lucas that Erica was a very dramatic child. Not that I don’t appreciate that, because God knows I have enough drama queens surrounding me.”
“What, me?”
“Well, I was thinking mostly of Dustin. But, yes.”
“Ouch.” He laughs.
You shake your head at him. “Anyways. Secondly, unless there’s a guard at the loading dock or in that room, it should be safe. And we’ll see if there’s a guard outside, and Erica’ll be able to see from the duct if there’s one in there.”
“Yeah, all fair points.”
Reaching the base of the stairs for the roof access, Steve takes the first step and offers his palms for you to balance. You step up, balancing on the toe stops of your skates. You continue the slow climb up this way.
“Trust me, I’m as anxious about all of this as you are. But it’s just a bit of fun right?” You ask.
Because this Russian business, whatever it was, was just some Scooby-Doo bullshit. Kids getting mixed up in a conspiracy, following dead trails... a bit of fun during the long summer days and nights.
“I mean, sure.” Steve agrees. “We’re just gonna find out what’s in those boxes. But I think I’d feel better if you had your crossbow with ya, you know?”
“I know.”
You did. Because you used to hardly go anywhere without it sitting in the trunk of your car. But after what happened last year, you’d still not repaired it. El had closed the Gate. To fix the weapon felt almost like admitting it could all happen again. You prepared for the ‘just-in-case' scenario in other ways.
“Maybe I should go get my baseball bat?” Steve suggests.
“As long as you don’t abandon me on these stairs.”
“’Course not, baby.”
There’s a beat of silence as you settle into the rhythm of carefully making it up the stairs. They ring out at his steps, followed by the dull ‘clunk’ as you follow.
“You and Robin seem to be getting along.” Steve says. It’s not a question, but there’s some sort of query in it.
You’d never really been one to have many friends around until you developed whatever you had before with Steve. Some sort of no-strings thing, until he was with Nancy. Messy and complicated. And now he wasn’t just your friend, he was your boyfriend.
An important distinction, because whilst you would happily call him your best friend, you could use a few more friends in your life. The only other person you’d really call a friend just now was Nancy, who was tied up at the Hawkins Post for the summer. Yeah, Robin Buckley wasn’t so bad.
“I don’t know, think she’s taken a liking to me. We like making fun of you together.”
“Whoa, whoa-- What?”
You laugh. “Not really.”
“God, I fall for it every time.” Steve grumbles.
“Yeah, you do.” You pull your bottom lip under your teeth, fighting back the grin that’s making him frown at you. “What was it I said about drama queens?”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. You’re a real jokester.”
The humid air hits you as soon as you open the door to the roof. It’s hot and sticky in all the worst ways. It prompts Steve to make some groaning complaint about what it will do to his hair. He quiets as you card your fingers through it, leaning into your touch.
Robin and Dustin are soon to join you up there, taking similar positions to the previous night as you all lie flat against the roof.
With the later hour, there were no Russians in sight.
You gave Erica the ‘all clear’ to make her way through the duct system. It’s a tense few minutes as you hold your breath, waiting for her to call in on the walkie-talkie. Robin holds it like a precious lifeline.
“All right, nerds.” She says. “I’m there.”
“Do you see anything?” Robin asks.
“Yeah, I see those boring boxes you’re so excited about.”
You lean over, prompting Robin to activate the walkie for you. “Do you see any security guards or personnel? Over.”
“Mega nerd over there using ‘over-and-out' and shit,” Erica snorts. You roll your eyes; it’s not your fault that Dustin had drilled correct walkie-usage into you. “And that’s a negative.”
Robin cuts in. “What about booby-traps.”
“If I could see them, they’d be pretty shit traps, wouldn’t they?”
“Thank you for that.” Robin deadpans.
There’s a clatter across the line, which you can only hope is Erica not being attacked by some big, scary Russians.
“I’m in.”
Steve threads his hands through his hair, sucking in a deep breath. “Oh, God.”
“Hey, hey, no. This is a good thing.” You pull his hand away, holding it in yours. With bent brows, you lean in close. “Means she’s nearly out.”
“Yeah, you’re right.” He gulps.
Slowly, the metal doors of the loading dock open up. Revealing Erica strolling out in the same cadence you would a dressing room. She places a hand on her hip as she catches sight of you all. “Free ice cream. For life!”
When you get down to the loading bay, you all practically scamper through the doors.
Your heart beats fast in your chest as Steve pulls out a pen knife, using it to cut through the packing tape on an ‘Imperial Panda’ box. You, Robin, Dustin and Erica all watch with bated breath as he pulls back the cardboard flaps.
Inside is a steel box with a handle. Certainly not noodles. He twists it, a sound of depressurising air hissing out. Inside, are four more handles.
“That’s definitely not Chinese food.” Steve voices your opinion. He sets down the lid of the steel box, looking at your ragtag group. “Uh, maybe you guys should, you know, stand back?”
Robin and Erica move away easily. Your frown deepens. Why should you move? For your safety? What did it matter if something happened, if Steve was the one closest to it? No, you’d fought off Demogorgons with him; you could face whatever this was, a bomb, a chemical weapon, whatever.
Dustin seems to agree. “No.”
“Just step back, okay?” He attempts to push the boy back, giving you a look too.
“No.”
You sigh. “Steve--”
“Jesus, Hendersons. Step back. Seriously.”
“No!” Dustin pushes again. “If you die, I die.”
A look of disbelief sinks in on Steve’s face as you squint at your little brother. No one would be dying on your watch, certainly not those two fools.
“Okay.” Steve shrugs it off, coming to terms with Dustin’s declaration. He locks eyes with you, something behind them pleading with you to do as he asks. But he knows better than that, that just because it’s what’s best for you doesn’t mean you’ll listen. “Y/N? You gonna step back?”
“No.”
“Alright then...” His breath is shaky.
He reaches back into the box, wrist turning as the metal clicks. The air hisses again, and he lifts up a cylinder composed of metal and glass. Your breath catches at the sight. Maybe Robin’s bet on a chemical weapon was right? It’s filled with a strange green liquid, bubbles twirling away inside like DNA helixes.
It’s nothing like you’ve ever seen before; you couldn’t even take a guess at what chemicals it could be made of.
Steve’s eyes are wide as they flash from the cylinder to you, and then back again. “What the hell?”
“What is that?” Robin asks. Although no one could answer.
The floor below you rumbles. Not in the way an earthquake would, but in the way a truck bed does. You brace your hands against one of the boxes, feet sliding slightly on your roller skates.
“Whoa!”
“Was that just me, or did the room move?” Dustin says, staring at the ceiling.
“Steve, put that thing back.” You say. Not that you think that’s what caused the room to ‘rumble’ or whatever, you just really don’t want him to drop it. Who knows what would happen if it cracked open?
The floor shifts again.
“No, you know what,” Robin says, making a reach for the mystery cylinder. “Let’s just grab that and go.”
“Put it back, Robin.” You say as she moves to the door.
“No, we should take it.”
Dustin starts poking at the control panel. “Which one do I press, Erica?”
“Just press the damn button, nerd.”
“Which one? I’m pressing the button, okay?”
You shake your head, joining Dustin beside the panel as he slaps ‘OPEN DOOR’ repeatedly. “Robin, I don’t wanna see how mad those Russians get when their weird green shit is missing.”
“It’s evidence!”
Erica shouts over Robin’s protests. “Press ‘open door’ nerds! It’s not hard!”
“God, Erica. It's not working, alright!” You join Dustin in slapping the bright blue button, but nothing happens. The other buttons don’t seem to have any useful markings. “We’re pressing ‘open door’.”
Steve steps in, a hand on your shoulder as he leans close. This is getting all too tight for your liking. “Press the other button!”
“Gee, we didn’t think of that.” You scoff.
Dustin pushes in, spamming the button as you get sandwiched between them. The shove makes your feet slip on the shiny metal floor again. “Would you stop?”
“I’m trying!”
“Just let me do it, back off!” You bite out, slapping both of them away from you.
“Who made you the queen of buttons?”
You make a face at Dustin. “Maybe because I’m older and smarter than you. And hey, don’t you remember the fact that you owe me for life! Or did you forget what happened to Mews?”
“I thought you let that go!”
“Good God, Hendersons, just push the damn button!” Steve leans in, hitting the bright green button in the centre of the panel.
Now, there was no way that any of you could’ve known that was the exact wrong button to pick. That, out of all the options, it likely had the worst outcome. Except for it becoming extremely apparent just seconds after he hit it.
A red-painted metal wall slides down where the door had been, slamming shut. And then the floor starts shaking violently. The lights flash, sending you horrible flashbacks of Christmas lights and creatures in the walls.
It’s like the floor gives way beneath you.
“Shit, Steve!” You cling to his arm for dear life. “M’gonna fall--!”
“I got you! Hold on!”
Robin and Erica’s screams fill your ears as the world shifts beneath you, the walls rattling. No, the room is not just moving, you’re dropping. Rapidly.
“Oh my God—" Your voice strains as you struggle to keep upright on the rumbling floor. "Is this an elevator?!”
“We’re going down!” Steve shouts as he pulls you against the boxes.
You brace there, hoping for any form of stability.
“Yeah, no shit, Harrington!” Robin calls back.
Dustin’s still slamming the control panel, his voice sharp and shrill in panic. “Why don’t these buttons work?!”
Erica clambers over to him. “Press the button!”
“What do you think I’m doing?!”
You were just praying this room, or elevator, or whatever the fuck it was would hit the brakes on its descent before it slammed you all into the ground.
“Dustin, emergency brakes!” You suggest.
“There are no brakes--!”
You reach to move away from Steve towards the panel, feet slipping out from under you. He grabs you by your bag, pulling you back into his chest before you can fall to the floor. “There must be something!”
“There’s not--”
“Come on, press something!” Steve tells him. “Just press the button!”
The floor rattles with one last violent jolt. It sends the room flying, boxes tumbling off the shelves. You and Steve are thrown against the metal frames as you succumb to the effects of gravity.
You yelp as you fall, still trapped against Steve’s body. A heavy box lands on top of you both.
“Is--” You choke back a cough. Clearing your throat, “Is everyone okay? Dustin?”
“Yeah... Me and Erica are fine.”
You can just about see the pair picking themselves up from the floor. Erica gives Dustin a shove for good measure. “Says you, nerd.”
Robin mumbles lightly. “M’fine, too.”
Shifting your weight, you attempt to detangle yourself from Steve. The heavy box lying atop you moves, falling directly onto him. He groans out loudly. “My groin! It fell on my groin.”
“Jesus...” You sigh.
“Dustin!” Steve shouts. “Get this thing off of me! I can’t move.”
Although the box is no longer directly on top of you, you’re still very much trapped under Steve. Dustin ambles over and, with some effort, lifts the box away. Steve sighs in relief as he makes it back onto his feet.
He offers you a hand, which you decline. Staying on the floor feels safer just now.
“Great. This is all just great,” He barks out a laugh as he pushes past Dustin to the control panel. “Now we know that Russians can’t design elevators!”
“I think we’ve clearly established that those buttons don’t work.” Robin tells him.
“They’re buttons. They have to do something.”
You shrug, leaning your head against the metal shelf. “There’s probably an issue with the wiring. We pressed them and it did nothing.”
“Yeah, or we need a keycard.” Robin points at the wall.
Steve’s frown deepens. “What?”
“It’s an electronic lock. Same as the loading dock door. I'm surprised the Valedictorian over here didn't notice it." She squints in your direction. "If we don’t have a keycard, it won’t operate, meaning--”
“We’re stuck in here.” Dustin finishes for her.
“Yeah.”
Robin was right. The small panel for the keycard looked exactly the same as the one outside the loading bay. “Shit, how did we miss that?”
No one answers.
“I mean, Erica opened the door without one, right?”
“It could’ve still been unlocked?” Robin shrugs. “Like a cooldown period?”
You groan. “Shitty Russian manufacturing. It’s a miracle those Communist idiots sent a man into space. Either you have a keycard, or you don’t. It’s not hard!”
“Yeah, well, we don’t. So, I guess we’re screwed.”
Erica scoffs, hands on her hips as she gives you all a steely glare. “Just so you nerds are aware, I’m supposed to be spendin’ the night at Tina’s...”
Out of the corner of your eye, you watch the groups’ reactions to Erica’s outburst. Dustin, indifferent, too busy studying the room around him. Robin looks somewhat remorseful as the situation sinks in. Steve, on the other hand... looks about ready to explode. It’s a certain anger you’re not familiar with. Although you liked riling him up, you never saw it get this far. Ever. You attempt to catch his eye, which he dodges with an artful turn of the head.
“... and Tina always covers for me. But if I’m not home for Uncle Jack’s party tomorrow and my mom finds out you four are responsible, she’s gonna hunt you down, one by one, and slit your throats.”
And that’s the trigger for Steve.
“I don’t care about Tina! Or Uncle Jack’s party!” He slams his hands against the box in the centre of the room. The one you’d found the green chemicals in. You flinch at his abrasive manner. So unlike Steve. “Your mom’s not gonna be able to find us if we’re dead in a Russian elevator!”
It settles in then. That this isn’t just some game or mystery for you to solve. This was real, honest danger. The type where the day isn’t saved by killing a monster or two, either. No one knew where you were; you’d not even told Hopper about this whole crazy conspiracy.
Summary: When Steve and Dustin go spy-hunting around the mall, you’re given the opportunity to get to know Robin a bit better. Steve convinces you to spend the night at his.
Word Count: 5k
Tags: SMUT (18+ only, MDNI), language, sexual language/allusions to sex (MDNI), mentions of violence, mentions of death,
PREVIOUS CHAPTER -- PART 3 MASTERLIST
Part of the 'If She Knew What She Wants' Series
July 1st, 1985
The phone in Hopper’s cabin is not polite that morning. It rings loud and true, cutting the small space apart whilst the man keeps snoring away in his armchair. He’s completely undisturbed by it, knocked out by his inebriation. The small buzz you’d gotten from the wine last night, chased by a beer from the fridge had been enough that you’d slept through the night, unlike the one before.
It did not protect you from that damn phone.
Blinking, you slide off the couch. You trip over Hopper’s abandoned shoes, catching yourself on the wall. With unsteady hands, you grab the phone.
“Hello?”
“Y/N, thank God!” Steve’s voice filters through the line, crackling. “Please tell me you’re alright, Dustin said you never came home last night, so Hopper was my second guess--”
You sigh, smiling at the sound of his voice. “I’m fine, we’re all fine here, I promise.”
“What happened, then? I thought you were gonna come back to Scoops?”
“I was, but I got tied up here ‘cause Hopper didn’t show up until, like, 10 last night. And, he was totally wasted, Steve.” Hopper lets out a loud snore, which morphs into a weird grunt-like noise. “Actually, he’s probably still wasted from the look of him. That’s gonna be a killer hangover.”
“Jesus...”
Sleep still lingering in your head, you feel your mind clouding. Pressing your body into the wall for support, you can almost imagine it’s Steve holding you upright. “I’m sorry for ditching you, baby. Forgive me?”
His breath catches. “O-of course. Well, I mean, yeah. That is, if you come over to mine tonight?”
Oh, how sly he was.
“I think I can manage that.” You stifle a laugh, trying your best not to wake Hopper. “Listen, I’ve gotta head back to mine so I can change and grab Dusty before work. So, I'll see you in a li’l bit, yeah?”
“Yeah, absolutely.”
That’s your queue to say goodbye. Either one of you should, really. But you don’t, because hanging onto this moment in the gentleness of the morning feels like your whole world just now.
“I can’t wait for tonight,” You can hear the smile in his voice. “I’ve missed you.”
“You slept over at mine, like, a day ago.”
“It’s been too long...” He grumbles.
You really struggle to hold back your laugh this time. “Did you guys get any further on the translation stuff?”
“Oh! Yeah. Robin, like, totally finished it. But it made no sense, so, I don’t know where we go from here.”
“Do you remember any of it?”
“Uh, you should probably ask Robin or Dustin when you see ‘em. Something about, like, a cat eating blue and yellow, and then it takes a trip to China.”
“What?”
“I told you it makes no sense!” You can just imagine him, phone in hand and the other on his hip as he lets out an exasperated huff. “But, I figured something out, too.”
You raise a brow, even though he can’t see you. “Oh yeah?”
“Yep. We were leaving the mall, when I realised—the music! It was one of those kiddy rides, the ones with the horses, you know?”
“Sure.”
“Yeah, so I used a quarter to make it run, and I was right! It’s the music from the tape. Meaning that the broadcast is coming from inside the mall.”
“Wait, so it’s not from Russia at all?”
“No, the Russians are here. At least, that’s what our current theory is. The ride was the ‘Indiana Flyer’, so I highly doubt they have those in Russia.”
“Huh.” You consider his words. The music had seemed a little familiar, and you passed by those kiddy-rides every day. Plus, Steve seemed pretty proud that he’d been the one to figure that out. “Good job, Steve.”
“Thanks!”
“Okay, well, I’m really gonna hang up the phone this time. Alright?”
“Yeah, alright.” Steve sighs. “Lova ya. I’ll see you later.”
“Love you, too.” You could never grow tired to getting to say that to him. “Bye.”
Come lunchtime, you arrive at Scoops through the delivery corridor, surprised to find the back room completely empty. Pushing through to the front, you find Robin, but no Steve or Dustin in sight.
“Hey, where are the boys?”
Robin pulls off her Walkman headset and raises an eyebrow.
“You mean your dingus boyfriend and dorky brother? They’re out there somewhere.” She points out to the mall’s atrium with a sharp finger. “Supposed to be looking for the Russian spies.”
“Oh.” You nod.
It’s a little disappointing to be left out like this. Not that it’s anyone’s fault, considering you are supposed to be working right now. The morning had been spent the same as ever. A few hours ferrying snacks between customers and the counter, cleaning tables, and throwing away trash until it was finally time for your class.
The only problem being the cracking of thunder and rain pelting the windows outside. Your scheduled class, a kid’s birthday party, had been called off. Unable to make it in. Meaning your boss, with some reluctance, let you finish your day early, something about ‘saving on hours’.
“If you don’t wanna go find them, you can sit with me?” Robin asks, her voice uneven as if she didn’t know whether she was allowed to ask the question or not. “You don’t have to, though.”
“No, that’s alright. I’ll stay.”
You set your bag and roller skates down in the corner, and lean back against the counter beside Robin. She stills a bit as you do so, your elbow bumping hers. The Russian dictionary you’d gotten from the library sits in her hands; you peer over at it.
“Steve said you finished translating last night?”
“Oh yeah. We did. I’m just... going over it again.”
“From what he told me it sounded like nonsense.”
Robin laughs. “I’m sure a lot of things sound like nonsense to that dingus.” She suddenly does a double-take, wide eyes on you. “I, uh... that probably sounded meaner than intended. I know he’s your boyfriend and all.”
“No, it’s okay. I know you’re only joking.”
She sighs in relief. “Oh, good. Good. That’s good.”
“You know, I like winding him up too, right? He’s cute when he’s flustered.”
“Oh, sure.” Robin nods, hesitantly. “Cute.”
“I really hope he’s not too much of a pain in the ass to work with. And I know I probably don’t make it any better by distracting him all the time. We were supposed to get jobs at the same place this summer, but it didn’t work out.”
“No, uh-- Dingus is kinda amusing, if anything.” Robin shrugs. “And I really don’t mind you hanging around, either. Even if your weird kissing is kinda insufferable.” She pulls a face.
Your brows draw together in confusion. “How is our kissing weirder than any other kissing?”
“Because you do it with dingus.”
“Oh, trust me,” You laugh at her tone. All serious and matter of fact. “It was weirder when we kissed other people.”
Your conversation is interrupted by a series of knocks coming from the back door. “Shit, that’s our delivery. Hold on a sec.”
Robin slides the window back and hops over the countertop.
You pick up the dictionary, paging through to where she’d left it. A napkin tucked between the pages to keep her place. There is scrawled handwriting, letterings scratched out and rewritten with new words and phrases to replace them. And underneath, it reads: “The week is long. The silver cat feeds when blue meets yellow in the west. A trip to China sounds nice if you tread lightly.” The code.
“...silver cat, silver cat. Hey, Y/N, did you see that?” Robin calls from the back.
Turning, you see her standing beside the delivery door as it falls closed behind her, she jerks her thumb over her shoulder. “The delivery company, Lynx. The silver cat!”
“What?”
“Come on.” She takes off running.
In your time dealing with the certain happenings of Hawkins, you’d learned quickly that when someone said it was time to run... it was best to follow. Quickly. Robin passes you, the staff room door swinging. You’re hot on her heels.
She’s so fast you barely realise who’s just walked into Scoops. “Hey, Y/N, you’re here! You and Robin will never believe--”
You push between Steve and Dustin’s shoulders after Robin. “Sorry, no time to talk!”
All the way out into the atrium, Robin stands in the centre glancing around frantically and muttering under her breath. “A trip to China sounds nice... Trip to China....”
“What’s going on?” You ask, climbing onto the bench beside her.
“A trip to China sounds nice!” She gestures widely at the mall.
Oh... okay? You glance down at the napkin, still in your hand. She’s repeating the code, but what was she referring to exactly?
“Look!” She taps your arm and points at the food court. You squint to see what she’s pointing at with shaky hands. ‘Imperial Panda’ fast food. “A trip to China sounds nice.”
Robin leans over, eyeing the napkin. “If you tread lightly...” She starts searching around the mall again. And lands on ‘Kaufman Shoes’.
“The code?” You ask.
She nods. It clicks then. What she was doing, what she was thinking. The stores, the delivery company with the silver cat logo... If Steve was right, that the message was coming from within the mall, then maybe this weird code could be about the mall itself?
“When-- When blue and yellow meet in the west.”
This time, you help her search. Was it another store? You both turn, eyes stumbling over every little blue and yellow object in sight. The Scoops Ahoy sign, the Stardust Roller Rink logo... The giant clock above it all. The hour hand blue and the minute hand yellow, currently pointing to 2:23.
Wait... Robin seems to spot it at the same time you do.
“You don’t think...?”
Robin nods at you. Repeating the phrase, this time more sure. “When blue and yellow meet in the west.”
“All we gotta do is wait ‘til nine.”
“Robin! Y/N!” Steve approaches, Dustin behind. He frowns up at where you stand on the bench. “What are you doing?”
“She totally cracked it!” You grin, jumping down. Steve braces you with his hands as if you fell, giving you a once over.
Robin nods. “I did!”
“Cracked what?”
“I cracked the code.” She announces.
It was still raining by nine o’clock. A fact that you were very unhappy about, especially when Robin dragged you all out onto the roof overlooking the loading dock. To make it worse, you didn’t have pre-cognitive abilities, so how were you to know it would still be thunderstorming like mad?
Somehow Robin, Dustin and Steve had all seemed to know it would rain. Maybe it was in your rush between Hopper’s cabin, your house, and the mall that the memo had been missed. Steve had kindly ‘donated’ his jacket to you, in fear you might catch a cold.
Whilst you appreciated it, it didn’t protect you much from the cold water dripping down your face and off the tip of your nose.
“Look for ‘Imperial Panda’ and ‘Kaufman Shoes’.” Robin shouts over the sound of the Lynx delivery truck reversing.
Dustin peers down a pair of binoculars. “They’re with that whistling guy, ten o’clock.”
You follow his instructions, finding one of the workers dressed in a bright yellow raincoat, pushing a stack of boxes on a dolly. He stops in front of the large metal doors.
“What do you think’s in there?” Steve asks, pushing his rain-soaked hair back.
“Guns, bombs?”
“Chemical weapons?” Robin adds.
You bite back a laugh at her and Dustin’s dramatics. “Maybe it’s frozen noodles.”
“Whatever it is,” Dustin takes a momentary break from the binoculars to give you an unimpressed look. “They’re armed to the teeth. So, I doubt it’s just noodles.”
“Great.” Steve deadpans. “That’s great.”
Through the rain and distance, it was a little hard to make out. But you could see what Dustin had been talking about. Standing in front of the doors was a security guard. And not the fun mall-cop kind. No, the kind of security guard that was well-built and holding a big scary automatic rifle.
One of the other men uses the wall panel beside the door and it swings open.
“Hey, what’s in there?” Robin asks.
Dustin stares through the binoculars. “It’s just more boxes.”
“Lemme check it out.” Steve says, reaching over to pull the binoculars away from Dustin.
“No, I’m still looking.”
The boys start grappling over the binoculars as Dustin pulls them back. Steve’s shoulder bumps yours as they fight.
“Lemme see it.”
“Quit it.” You hiss. “They’ll hear us.”
“Yeah, stop.” Dustin spits at Steve. He pulls the binoculars down, hitting the metal ledge in front of you. The sound of it reverberates despite the rain, spooking the security guards as they reach for their guns. “Duck!”
You all do as he says, rolling onto your back and pushing flat into the roof. You hold your breath, waiting to hear if the guards start firing. You collide against Steve, shoulders clashing once again. You can hear his heavy breathing as your throat constricts. Shit, you can’t die on the fucking mall roof.
You reach over, tapping his chest with the back of your hand. ‘Please, tell me you’re still there’.
He glances at you. ‘I’m here’. His hand finds your wrist, shaky fingers working their way between yours.
Exhaling slowly, you’re able to breathe again.
“We need to go.” You decide.
“Now?” Robin gasps.
“We should move; they know that noise came from up here.” You glance from her shocked face to Steve and Dustin, your eyes pleading. “This will be the first place they look.”
Below you, the guards start shouting. What they’re saying, you don’t know. Their words are garbled through the rain, but whatever it is, it’s definitely not English.
Dustin nods. “Let’s go.”
He leads the way back to the roof access door, Steve pulling you along by the hand. You all do your best to keep low to the ground until you’re back inside.
Only as you clatter down the stairs to the delivery corridors do you process what you’d just witnessed. Russians, with guns, in Hawkins. What the fuck?
“You’re still coming over to mine, right?” Steve asks as you cross the parking lot.
Steve’s hand hadn’t left yours since leaving the roof. As if holding onto each other was the only option, the only way to make sure the other didn’t disappear. Robin and Dustin trailed loosely behind you. You spared a glance in their direction every once in a while, just to make sure they were still there.
“Huh?”
Steve squeezes your hand. “I mean, we’ll drop off Dustin at yours, but you’re still coming over. Right?”
“Yeah, alright. I think, despite everything, that would still be nice.” You admit, smiling softly. “But we should drive Robin home, too. She can’t cycle home in this weather.”
“Sure,” He nods. Turning back, he raises his voice. “Good news, Buckley. Gonna give you a ride home.”
Perhaps because of what you’d just experienced; nearly being caught by those guards, discovering that your silly theory about Russians invading the mall was right, Robin doesn’t return with a cutting comeback this time.
Steve leads the way back to his car, taking your bag and skates to the trunk whilst the rest of you climb in. The pretty white leather seats squelch underneath your wet clothes. The group is rattled, both Dustin and Robin uncharacteristically silent. The rain dinging off the roof is the only sound filling the car. Robin’s first on the drop off list, muttering a ‘see you tomorrow’ as the door slams. When Steve pulls into your driveway, you have to beg Dustin to cover for you. Another night not spent at home. He narrows his eyes at you, and you pinkie-promise that you’ll owe him for it.
When he’s gone, you pull down the visor to check your appearance in the small mirror. You expected your mascara to have run in the rain (it did), but what you didn’t expect was the sight of a Polaroid pinned to the soft fabric. It was you and Steve in December. The day he finally asked you to be his girlfriend. It was one of the photos your mom had taken; you’d given it to Steve a few months back.
“Hey, when did this get here?” You can’t help the smile clawing its way onto your lips.
Steve glances away from the road, eyes flicking to the Polaroid. “Oh, uh. Just a few weeks ago. After you told me about M.I.T. Is that... is it okay if I keep it there? I didn’t know if--”
“No, I like it. It’s sweet.”
“Good. I just, I like having you with me, you know? Even if it’s just a photo. Gonna miss you a lot when you go off to do your ‘smart people’ things at college.”
“Oh yeah?” You raise an eyebrow at him. “What you gonna do next, keep me in your wallet?”
“I just might.”
You dissolve into a fit of laughter. The giddiness taking over. Letting go of this evening for a minute, enjoying the moment before what comes at the end of summer.
Steve pulls the car into the driveway of his house.
“Hey, you take the keys and run ahead inside. I’ll bring your stuff in.” He says, pushing his set of keys into the palm of your hand.
“Steve, we’re both already soaked through it’s fine.”
“Just let me be a gentleman, please?”
“Fine, fine.” You sigh. “Enjoy your rain, Harrington.”
He breaks out into a goofy grin as you press a kiss to his cheek.
The keys jingle against the door as you run into the house as fast as you can. It doesn’t make much difference though, as your clothes drip puddles onto the hardwood floor. It was always a little bit weird being in the Harrington house, at least in any room that wasn’t Steve’s. The space too big and empty. Even if you were alone in your home, you always had Mews, or now Tews, to keep you company.
You make a dash upstairs in the search of towels.
Shaking out your hair, you’re in the middle of kicking off your shoes when you hear the front door again. Hurried steps up the staircase, and then Steve’s standing in the doorway.
“Hey,” He breathes out as you toss a towel in his direction. He catches it easily, plucking it from the air and runs it through his hair. “You’re still in your clothes.”
You blink at him. “Wow. That was very forward.”
“No, uh- sorry!” His eyes go wide, jaw stammering. “Your clothes are wet. I meant—Y-you could catch a cold.”
“Yeah, you could too.” You snort.
“Well, I guess I should change too, then.”
Unable to move, you find yourself studying him. With careful eyes, you watch as his face shifts from hesitance to... something else. That look in Steve’s eyes is familiar. You know exactly what he’s thinking when he kicks off his shoes and pulls his shirt over his head, tossing it to the floor.
Raising a brow at him, it feels like a competition.
You remove the jacket he’d given you, draping it over the desk chair. But something catches your eye on the desk, a camera. You smirk.
“Hey, you wanna do something fun?”
He crosses the space. Moving closer, until his hands land on your hips and pulls your back into his chest. Steve pushes his nose into the crook of your neck. “I thought we were already gonna do something fun?”
You pick up the camera as he lays kisses into your neck. You can’t help the soft moans that escape you. “Think I wanna put you in my wallet, take you with me, too.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah.” You raise the camera, flipping it around so the lens faces you. Tilting your head, Steve moves exactly as you want him to. Mouthing along your jawline until he reaches your lips.
The flash of the camera fills the room. The camera whirs as the Polaroid is printed.
Steve pulls away from you, breath hot on your damp skin. “I get it now,” His fingers dance at the edge of your shirt, creeping up. “But you’re still wearing too many clothes.”
You set the camera back down, turning in his arms as he’s already pulling on the wet material. The shirt comes off quickly, and then your trousers, too. You step out of them, pushing Steve back towards the bed.
“You need to take those shorts off.” You wet your bottom lip with your tongue. “Or you’ll catch a cold.”
Steve huffs an amused sigh, shaking his head. And pops the button on his shorts.
When they’re off and on the floor, he’s on you again. Lips capturing yours, as it becomes heavy and fast. Need sinking through whilst he nips your bottom lip. Hands wandering your body as you switch positions, he walks you back until your legs hit the bed.
You sink down onto it, breaking away momentarily. Steve kneels in front of you, and you widen the gap of your legs as he slots between them. He whispers to you in-between kisses. “Take off your bra.”
“Why don’t you take it off for me?”
He does as you ask, warm hand sliding against your cold skin and sending a shiver down your spine. You lean into him as he peels it off of you.
“S’pretty.” He mouths against your chest.
Flicking your nipple with his tongue, he watches your gasping reaction. “You say that every time.” You’re breathless.
“It’s true.” His mouth moves further down your chest, across your ribs, and to your stomach. You weave your fingers into his wet hair. “It’s true, every time.”
His fingers hook your underwear, and you’re fully exposed to him. Steve’s lip press downwards, still. Roaming the space of your inner thighs, continuing for what almost feels like eternity as he teases, nipping at the skin. Your head rolls back as he finally licks a wide stripe along your folds.
“Shit, Steve--”
“That good, baby?”
He does it again, nose nudging close.
You groan. “Yes...”
Again, and again, and again until he’s circling your clit. Your fingers curl into his hair, making him groan against you in response. You really like that sound he makes. And the way it vibrates against your skin...
You can’t help the way your hips rock gently against him, Steve’s hand splayed along your thigh. His fingers dig into the flesh.
Before you have the chance to react, his grip tightens, and he tugs your leg up and over his shoulder. You fall back, head landing against the mattress with a small ‘oomph’. He pulls you into him, taking advantage of the new angle.
He sucks firm as he pushes two fingers of his free hand into you, curving them as he guides you to the edge.
“Fuck,” You sigh. “I’m gonna--”
“Do it. Cum.”
Your stomach coils tight, legs tensing as you let go. Your eyes snap shut, back arching off the bed. You cry his name again and again as he doesn’t let up, working his way through your orgasm.
When your breathing evens out, you slowly sit up, shuffling back until you hit the headboard. He works his way back up your body, crawling over you. His lips are wet as he wipes them on the back of his hand, taking deep breaths.
“You good?” He asks.
You bite back a laugh. “Better than good.”
Steve kisses you with fervour, teeth and tongues clashing. It’s all hot and heaviness as his weight rests against yours.
You reach down, palming his strained cock against his boxers. “My turn to take care of you, hmm?”
“Fuck, Y/N...” He murmurs as your hand slips beneath the waistband. He groans at the contact. “Yes, God, I need you. Need t’be inside of you.”
“So needy.” You whisper, stroking him slowly.
He rocks into your touch. “Only for you.”
His eyes are half-lidded and focused on you, jaw tensing as his breath staggers out. Your free hand rests against his chest above the patch of unruly hair. You brush your nose up, placing a chaste kiss against his lips. “Gonna need a condom, babe.”
“Y-yeah...”
He leans away from your touch, pulling his boxers off and reaches into his nightstand. His movements are swift but not hurried. Measured and practised. You bite your lip as you watch.
And before you can think twice of it, you’re off the bed and on your feet.
“Wait, where are you going?”
“Relax, Harrington.” You reach the desk, picking up the discarded camera. “Just sit back and relax.”
When you return, you push him back to the headboard. Straddling him, balancing the camera just-so, capturing the way his still-damp hair now falls over his forehead as his wide eyes trace every part of your form.
The flash syncs with a streak of lightning outside the window; you brace a hand on the headboard beside Steve’s head. The Polaroid prints, falling to the bed sheets. Leaning forward, you press another searing kiss as you roll your hips against his. Steve swallows up your gasps and unsteady breaths as his tip presses against your entrance. It’s not fair how so little contact feels so good.
He lines himself up, rubbing against the wetness as you push down onto him. You moan at the feeling. The stretch. Your head rolls backwards; his hand reaches out to the back of your neck, steadying you.
It takes a second to adjust when you’re fully seated. The room just full of the sound of the rain and wind outside, your and Steve’s heavy breathing mingling. Until you test the waters with an experimental roll of your hips. And he mewls out the most gorgeous moan. Your lips split into a smirk as you do it again, raising as his hands land on your hips.
You start to rock at an even pace, his hips lifting to match.
“So good, baby.” Steve murmurs as his hands slide from your hips to your ass. His grip is tight as he guides your movement. Up and down. He turns his head, nose brushing along the inside of your arm as he nuzzles in. He presses soft, open-mouthed kisses there. “Squeezing me so good.”
You feel yourself clench around him at the compliment. He twitches in response.
“Fuck, Stevie...”
As you bounce, your necklace dangles over him. He reaches for it, hooking on with one finger, and uses it to pull your lips to his. His tongue is hot as he licks into you. Only breaking when your breath is gone.
The look he’s giving you, it’s ruining. Full of wither and adoration simultaneously. A mess, a sweet, sweet mess. You raise the camera, taking another picture.
His movements are languid when he pulls the camera away from you. He turns it on you, lining up a shot. You can’t hold back the laugh bubbling up as your hand lands on his chest. You lean backwards as he snaps a photo. Steve plucks it from the camera and tosses it onto the sheets.
“Touch yourself, baby. Wanna picture of those pretty tits.”
You roll your eyes but comply, one of his hands keeping balance of you on your hip as you cup your breasts together. You pinch your nipple, gasping at the pressure mixing with the pleasure of Steve’s hips snapping into yours. “What, l- like this?”
The camera flash is your answer.
It then falls from his hand, clattering somewhere you don’t care to know, as Steve’s arms encircle you. There’s a swooping feeling, as if you’re falling, and then your head is on the bed again with Steve leaning over you. He uses the change in position to pound into you, hand roaming until he finds one of yours. Intertwining.
The other reaches lower, rubbing on your clit. “C’mon baby.”
“Steve?”
“Y-yeah?”
“Fuck-- come with me.”
Your second climax rips through you, all breathless and mewling. Mind left unresponsive and reeling from emotions at the same time. You’re left clenching tight, as Steve follows with stuttering hips.
“Shit, Y/N...” He heaves, his cock still twitching inside of you. “Fuck, baby.”
“S’good, right?”
Steve nods against your neck, gradually dropping down onto the bed, half on top of you. You’re so fucked out, you don’t care about the weight and heat of his body pressing you into the mattress just now. If anything, it’s comforting.
You lay there for a few minutes, your free hand coming to tangle with the ends of his hair. It was so long now, clinging to his neck with a mix of the rain and sweat. You like the way he smells just now.
It was a nice distraction. Because that’s what this was, right? A perfect night with your perfect boyfriend, to forget that in a few months you’d be moving across the country. That you’d be apart from him when it felt like you’d had so little time to call him yours. A distraction from the fact that barely an hour ago, Russians with big scary guns had been chasing you down. You knew none of you were going to let this situation go anytime soon. You’re all too curious for your own good.
“Hey,” Steve starts slowly, voice croaky and dry. “You’ve got that look again.”
This has happened enough times that you know exactly what he’s talking about. He always said it was like you were lost in the woods.
“D’you think everything’s gonna be okay?”
Steve frowns at you with gentle eyes. Studying you, like if he concentrated hard enough, he could read all the thoughts rattling around in your head. Maybe he could. “’Course it will. We always make it work, don’t we?”
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CHAPTER 2: Have the Phrases Memorised so Carefully
Summary: In an effort to keep your cool, you spend your day off from work hanging out at the mall with Dustin and Steve. It’s unfortunately derailed by the dramatic love lives of two preteen girls.
Word Count: 5k
Tags: Language, sexual language/allusions to sex (MDNI), mentions of violence, mentions of death
PREVIOUS CHAPTER -- PART 3 MASTERLIST
Part of the 'If She Knew What She Wants' Series
June 30th, 1985
“And with one last deep exhale, slowly open your eyes and return to your day.”
The gong chimes for a final time, and the tape clicks off. You open your eyes, revealing your mother sitting in front of you, mirroring your pose. Legs crisscrossed, palms on knees, back straight.
It had been difficult to sleep last night. Questioning thoughts about the broadcast you and Dustin had picked up last night rolling around in your head as you tossed and turned. So, in the early hours of the morning when you heard your mother go to meditate on the porch, you decided to give up on sleep.
“Well, what did you think, honey?” Your mom smiles at you. She’d been particularly pleased when you’d asked to join her. “Wasn’t that nice?”
You make a non-committal groan. “It was alright. I don’t think it’s really my kind of thing, though. Next time I might try one of those painting tutorials on PBS.”
“Oh, you mean that Bob Ross guy?”
“Yeah, I think so. The one with the ‘fro. I think Dustin’s trying to steal his look.”
She gasps. “You really think so?”
“Yeah, I mean he hides it under his hat but he’s halfway there already. Anyway, I like the music on that show.”
“It’s very calming.” She agrees. “You seem anxious, Y/N. Is there anything you’d like to talk about? Did something happen between you and Steve while I was away?”
“Oh, uh, no. Steve and I are fine. Great, even. I was gonna take Dusty over to the mall to see him today.”
“That will be a nice little reunion.” She hums. “Are you sure nothing is bothering you?”
You shrug. “I don’t know. Dusty says I have the tendency to overthink things. I’m probably just stressed about college. But I was thinking about learning a new language or something. To take my mind off things.”
“Well, that sounds like fun! What were you thinking of? Spanish, or maybe German?”
“No, uh... Russian?”
“Oh, that’s...” She searches for the words. You were pretty sure that she was beyond used to placating the strange choices of her weird children by now. She truly was a very supportive mother. “That’s a really interesting choice, sweetie. Maybe you could go by the library for a dictionary before going to see Steve?”
You smile softly. “That's a good suggestion. Thanks Mom.”
The backdoor to the house opens, revealing a frowning Dustin. His hair was dishevelled from sleep, still decked out in his pyjamas.
“What are you doing out here?”
“Good morning, Dusty. We were meditating.” Your mother answers.
“No, I know what you’re doing out here. What is she doing?” He turns to you with an accusatory finger. “Since when did you meditate?”
“Uh, I don’t. I’m just trying something new.”
Dustin’s eyes squint tightly. There’s something behind them, like he’s trying to send you a message. Maybe he’s warning you against telling your mother about the ‘code’. Well, good news for him is that you wouldn’t, and he should know that by now. You’d both managed not to tell her the whole truth about the previous two Novembers, after all. Even when she’d had to pick you up from the hospital and was greeted by federal agents.
“I was telling Mom about my new hobbies.” You stand, gathering the pillow you’d been sitting on, dusting it off. “Painting and Russian.”
“What?”
“You know, the classics.” You tease, pushing past the boy and into the house.
You can hear the muffled sound of your mother’s voice as you redirect to your bedroom. “We need to support her, Dustin. Y/N’s getting in touch with her creative side!”
That was one way to put it.
You realised, now, that you Hendersons had a horrible habit of attempting to jump from moving vehicles. You came to this realisation as Dustin hadn’t waited for you to even find a parking space at the mall before he was tumbling out of the door, claiming that your trip to the library had ‘taken too long’ and ‘wasted his time’. You bet he’ll be feeling different about it when you set to work translating the ‘code’ he recorded last night.
Regardless, you were rather miffed that due to his antics, you missed the grand reunion between him and Steve. Not least because you’d found them already sequestered into a booth by the time you got to Scoops Ahoy. Robin shot you a disgruntled look from behind the counter as you joined the boys.
“Y/N, why didn’t you tell me Steve was giving out free ice cream? We should’ve come here last night!” Dustin digs his spoon deeply into the banana split sitting in front of him.
You slide into the booth beside Steve, easily slotting into his side as he lifts his arm around your shoulder. “Because he’s worked here for a month and quite honestly, I’m already sick of ice cream.”
“Yeah, man,” Steve nods. “You can have as much as you want, but it’s not a good idea for me. I mean, I’ve gotta stay in shape for my lady.”
He winks at you, and you roll your eyes in response.
“She’s already out of your league, dingus. There’s no need to scare her away with your corniness.” Robin calls across the store as she cleans a table.
Steve turns to you, brow furrowed. “Ignore her.”
“You know I like your corniness.” You bump his shoulder, bringing the smile back to his face.
Dustin points at Robin with his spoon. “She seems cool.”
“She’s not.” Steve declines.
Robin was... interesting. You liked her a fair amount, from the limited number of times she’d interacted with you. In fact, you were surprised how nice she was to you considering how much time you spent at Scoops, distracting Steve from work. You recognised her vaguely from high school, enough to know she was the year below you. You don’t remember sharing a class.
“So,” Steve starts. “Where are the other knuckleheads?”
“They ditched me yesterday.”
Steve’s eyes widen as he looks between you and Dustin. You just nod in confirmation. “No!” He gasps.
“My first day back. Can you believe that shit?”
“Whoa!” Steve leans in, glancing back at you again. “Seriously?”
“I know, I had the same reaction.” You sigh.
“No, you didn’t.” Dustin sasses. “You didn’t say anything.”
“Yeah, but I thought it. If I said something last night, my words wouldn’t have been particularly... kosher. You know how I feel about you guys going out alone.” You shrug, Steve nodding along in agreement. “Anyway, tell Steve about what happened last night.”
“Oh!” Dustin nods, smile returning. “They’re going to regret ditching me, big time, when they don’t get to share in my glory.”
“Our glory.” You correct.
Steve shakes his head, not understanding. “Glory? What glory?”
"So, last night,” Dustin shifts closer to him and drops his voice low. “We were trying to get in contact with Suzie...”
“Oh, mhmm...”
You shoot Steve a look. What the heck was that noise for?
“And, uh...” Dustin looks around the store before mumbling into his hand.
“What?”
“Uh...” Dustin mumbles again. A little louder this time, but still unintelligible.
You huff. “Dusty, we can’t hear you.”
“Just speak louder.” Steve agrees.
“We intercepted a secret Russian communication!” Dustin shouts.
Good God, you knew that boy had volume control issues, but you didn’t realise it went both ways.
The other patrons of Scoops turn at the sudden outburst. Their eyes bounce between your trio. Even Robin is looking at you.
“Jeez, shh.” Steve hushes him. “Yeah, okay, that’s what I thought you said.” He pauses, thinking over Dustin’s words. “What does that mean?”
“It means, Steve, that we could be heroes. True American heroes.”
“Or I could be right, and it’s just some old babushka that doesn’t know how to dial in a signal.” You poke your tongue out at Dustin as he groans.
“It’s not even a woman on the recording!”
“Don’t be so close-minded.”
Dustin gawks at you, mouth hanging wide in disbelief. “You’re the one who won’t admit it’s a code. If anything, you’re close-minded!”
“Hendersons!” Steve interjects. “Would you quit it? Jesus.”
“Ignore him, Dustin. He’s an only child.”
Dustin scoffs. “Lonely child, more like.”
“You know what? I don’t think I want to be involved in this.” Steve moves to stand, but he’s trapped between you and the booth. “Hey, slide over. Let me out.”
You push him back in his seat. “I’ll make it worth your while.”
“I’ve heard that before.”
“Ew.” Dustin grimaces.
Ignoring him, you reach for your bag, retrieving the worn-out dictionary from the library. “Listen, all we gotta do is translate.”
Hidden away in the staff room, once again, Dustin had set up what he was calling the ‘translation station’ on one side of the table. On the other side, you dragged out Hopper's damn boombox again, poking a screwdriver into it whilst your other hand held open the dictionary.
You flicked through the book, glancing back every so often at the boombox to move on to tightening the next screw.
Dustin ran the recording on repeat, the foreign words lilting and twisting in your mind at every ‘zh’ or ‘ya’. Steve’s pacing as he chewed on a banana wasn’t helping.
The tape pauses with a click.
“So, what do you think?” Dustin asks.
Steve takes another bite of his banana. “It sounded familiar.”
“What?”
“The music. The music right there at the end.”
Huh. You guess you hadn’t really thought about it that way. Sure, there was music. It was kinda grating the way the same section had been repeating in the background of the tape, but you hadn’t paid it much mind.
“Why are you listening to the music, Steve?” Dustin bites out. “Listen to the Russian! We’re translating the Russian!”
“I’m trying to listen to the Russian but--”
“Y/N, tell your boyfriend to pay attention!”
“Would you like to have a turn with the dictionary, Steve?” You ask absentmindedly. You're not really offering it, though, and you turn another page. “Huh, Америка.” America. The accent fell stiff on your tongue.
The door swings open as Robin comes through at pace. “All right, babysitting time is over. You need to get in there.” Steve stumbles back towards you, making way for Robin. She sees the whiteboard that used to have tally marks for her bet with Steve, now covered in the Russian alphabet. “Hey, my board. That was important data, shitbirds!”
“I guarantee you, what we’re doing is way more important than your data.” Dustin is far too smug for his own good.
“Yeah, and how do you know these Russians were up to no good anyways?”
“That’s what I said.” You tell her, biting your tongue from bringing up a babushka once more. Dustin might actually smack you if you did. “And it was six-to-zero, Robin.”
She frowns. “What?”
“The board. Six-to-zero for ‘You Suck’.”
“Y/N!” Steve gasps. “Traitor. I can’t believe this, my own girlfriend.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t have been flirting with customers, then?”
“I knew you were bothered by it! Unbelievable.” Steve throws his banana peel on the table. You give him an annoyed look as you push it off the edge, away from you.
“Wait, hold on a minute.” Dustin interrupts. “How does she know about the Russians?”
Steve shrugs. “I don’t know.”
“You told her about--”
“Maybe because you’ve been playing that tape loud as fuck, Dusty.” You suggest. “And your voice carries like a barge horn.”
“You’re all extremely loud.” Robin gives you a pointed look. “You think you have evil Russians plotting against our country, on tape, and you’re trying to translate, but haven’t figured out a single word because you didn’t realise the Russians use an entirely different alphabet than we do. Sound about right?”
“Yeah, I mean, pretty accurate.” You sigh.
The boys look at you as if you’d lost your mind.
Which gives Robin the opportunity to lean in, reaching for the cassette player. Steve notices, diving in and snatching it off the table. You are jostled about in the process, their arms reaching over you.
“Whoa! What do you think you’re doing?”
“I wanna hear it.” Robin answers Steve.
The boys share another look over your shoulders. “Why?”
“’Cause maybe I can help? I’m fluent in four languages, you know.”
“That’s sick, dude.” You breathe out. And you genuinely meant it. Not that you’d underestimated Robin, you just didn’t know anything about her. “You know Russian?”
She turns in the direction of Dustin. “Ou-yay are-yay umb-day.”
Steve laughs in glee as Dustin grins. “Holy shit.”
“That’s not Russian, dummies.” You sigh.
“It was Pig Latin.” Robin nods, taking the seat across from you at the table. “But I can speak Spanish and French and Italian, and I’ve been in band for 12 years. My ears are little geniuses, trust me.”
“Uh...” Steve tries to think of an argument against her.
“Come on, it’s your turn to sling ice cream, my turn to hang out with your girlfriend and translate.” Hang out? Robin wanted to hang out with you? “I don’t even want credit. I’m just bored.”
The counter bell dings repeatedly as she slides forward, offering an ice cream scooper to Steve.
He sighs, sizing her up. He had wasted a lot of time hanging out with you and Dustin this morning instead of working. It was only fair. With a reluctance on his face as his eyes flash over to you, he accepts the scooper and slaps the tape player into Robin’s hands.
By lunchtime, you’d finished working on the boombox. Since then, you’d taken to piecing together what may come to be useful sentences in Russian. Words of importance, maybe? Not that any of them applied to the tape you were trying to decode. But hey, what if you had to say “Иди на хуй” fuck you in Russian? Might come in handy.
By two o’clock you’d translated your first full sentence of the code.
It was a pitiful effort.
But you were all pretty proud of it, nonetheless. Robin slid open the window to the front, telling Steve in a dire accent that “The week is long.”
“Well, that’s thrilling.” He responds dryly.
You stand, coming to lean over her shoulder.
“I know, but it’s progress.” Robin says, reaching to slide the window back.
As she does, you peek through, only because you wanted to see how many customers Steve was occupied with. How much work he still had to finish. What you didn’t expect to see was who his customers were.
At the counter, waiting expectantly for the ice creams in Steve’s hands was Max... and El. El? What the hell was she doing at the mall? You catch the window before Robin can finish closing it, sliding it back open with wide eyes. Robin seems a bit spooked by your movement, but doesn’t comment and goes back to the 'translation station'.
Climbing over the counter, you slide through the window and shut it behind you as Steve is handing the cones to the girls.
“Okay, here you go. You got a strawberry, and a vanilla with sprinkles, extra whipped cream.”
“What are you girls doing here?” You whisper in a rushed tone. Steve does a double-take as you stand behind him. “El, does Hopper know you’re here?”
“Hi Y/N,” Max says, playing it cool. “I took El shopping.”
“Yes, I can see that.” You say, giving the girl a look up and down. Admittedly, she looked nice in her new outfit. It was bright and full of swirly colours despite the black background. It didn’t hurt that El was sporting an equally bright smile to match. “How did you girls get here?”
“We took the bus.” El answers.
"They took the bus!" You squeak out, turning to lean your face into Steve’s shoulder in the hopes of hiding your reaction. He jumps slightly in response, but brings a hand up to your back, rubbing it reassuringly.
“Oh my God, oh my God, this is totally against the rules.” You mumble against him. “Hopper’s gonna be so pissed.”
“Hey, it won’t be that bad. Right?” Steve eyes the girls, who only shrug in response.
You sniff, drawing your back upright again. Pulling yourself together, you turn back in the direction of the girls with sharp eyes. “Right, I’m driving you two home. Stay right there.” You point two fingers at them, wiggling them back and forth and then at the ground.
You dash to the back, ignoring Dustin and Robin’s questioning looks as you pick up the boombox and your bag. You’re out the door again.
Luckily, under the supervision of Steve, they’d stayed where they were.
“I’m gonna drive them to the cabin and drop off the boombox.” You say to Steve. “Would you look after Dustin for me?”
“Yeah, of course.” He nods.
With a gentle smile, you lean over to press a kiss to his lips. His hand catches your hip. Max makes a quiet ‘ooh’, and the girls descend into a fit of giggles.
Separating, you can’t help the pink tint creeping into your skin. “Love you. I’ll see you later.”
“I love you, too.” Steve says as you wave over your shoulder at him.
You follow the girls out of the shop and then make your way out of the mall. The giggling doesn’t stop as they keep glancing over their back at you, making it very hard to keep a straight face. You’re about to start directing them across the parking lot to your car when Max turns to the right.
“You gotta be shitting me.” She scoffs, stopping in her tracks.
Following her eyeline, you find Mike, Will, and Lucas. They’re pulling their bikes out of the rack near the mall entrance, bickering.
Max approaches them, El following closely. “Isn’t this a nice surprise?” Her tone is sarcastic and biting.
You had your own reasons for being annoyed at the kids right now, but it sounded like Max had a bone to pick, too.
Mike drops his bike, gawking at the sight of El. “What are you doing here?” His cadence is stuttering.
“Shopping.” El answers simply.
“This is her new style,” Max nods towards El. “What do you think?”
“What is wrong with you? You know she’s not allowed to be here. Y/N, you’re okay with this?”
Max cuts in before you can respond. “What is she, your little pet?”
“Yeah. Am I your pet?” El echoes.
“And anyway, Y/N is totally cool.” Max says, pushing her hair over her shoulder. “Cooler than you, Wheeler.”
You frown as Mike glares at you. “Whilst I appreciate the compliment, I am not 100 percent cool with this.”
“See!” Mike gestures his hands at you. “And El, you’re not my pet.”
“Then why do you treat me like garbage?”
“What?”
Well, that came out of left field. It seemed like you were just as shocked at Mike was.
“You said Nana was sick.”
“She is. She is. She is sick.” Mike turns to Lucas for backup.
Lucas catches up, nodding emphatically. “She is. She’s super sick. That's why we’re here, actually.”
“Yeah, we’re shopping. Not for us, but for her. For Nana.”
“For Nana!” Lucas agrees.
What in the bullshit? First, they blow off Dustin last night. Leaving him alone, in the dark, up on Weathertop. And now? They’re obviously lying to the girls.
“Also, we’re here to get a gift for you.” Mike continues. “Just, we couldn’t find anything that suited you, and I only have, like, $3.50. So, it’s hard.”
“Super hard. It’s... it’s expensive.”
You could almost respect Lucas for his defeated tone. Almost. If it wasn’t for the obvious fuckery they were up to.
“You lie.” El says. “Why do you lie?”
Well, shit... She sounded genuinely hurt. Just what had Mike done to her? You sigh, shifting the weight of the boombox in your hands, your wrist clicking in retaliation. “Come on. Let’s go, girls.”
El glances back at you, expression softening for just a moment.
It hardens when she turns back towards Mike. She takes two steps closer to him, and he seems almost hopeful for a second. Until El speaks.
“I dump your ass.”
She pivots on the balls of her feet, bounding towards you with a skip in her step.
“Oh, alright then.” You say. Max is hot on her heels. They’re ahead of you now, off to the parking lot. “Uh, left. The car is to the left.”
They giggle all the way back.
“El, are you sure you don’t have any clue when Hopp will be home?” This was probably the third or fourth time you’d asked her this since arriving with the girls at the cabin.
She shrugs in response. Something you are very unhappy to see just now.
Where the hell was Hopper? El had been running around the mall all day with Max, and now you’d given up your entire afternoon to babysit without any sign he’d be coming back. It was almost 9:30, which meant Steve’s shift at Scoops would be finished by now. You really hadn’t meant to leave him for the whole day; it was supposed to be a drive-by drop-off, if anything. Damn kids.
The girls go back to their magazines, dancing and singing to the repaired boombox. At least it was getting some use.
Pushing off of the doorframe, you close the door behind you and flop down onto El’s bed. Flicking through ‘Anne of Green Gables’, trying to tune out their conversation.
“Hey, Y/N?” Max draws you back in.
“Yeah...?” You’re not really paying attention, eyes drawn to the book.
“Is Steve a good kisser?”
“What-- huh?!” You sputter, choking on your words. “W- why?"
“Because I bet that Mike is a totally lame kisser. But Steve’s hot, so he must be good, right?”
“Uh...” You trail off, eyes bouncing between the girls. Max looks smug at her assertion; meanwhile, El looks as if perched on the edge of a metaphorical seat. You have a very captivated audience. “I don’t think hot-ness is the correct scale for if someone is a good kisser or not.”
“Oh, boo!” Max rolls her eyes.
“Yeah, boo.” El agrees. “We want to know.”
You sigh and close your book. Goodbye, Anne. “Yes, Steve is a pretty good kisser. Do not tell anyone I said that. Not even Steve, and especially not Dustin.”
“This is why you’re the best.” Max says with the widest grin.
“What makes him...” El pauses. “Kiss good?”
Oh, please, no. You grimace a bit, getting into the details of your dating life with a couple of 13-year-olds was not exactly what you had in mind for your Sunday afternoon. In fact, you’d rather not get into that detail with them at all. Ever.
But it brought you a small sense of satisfaction and a warm feeling -- that they were coming to you with these questions. The same way that Dustin had come to you with Dart last year. Although this was admittedly a bit less terrifying than Dart. Still scary, though.
“Well... I don’t know if there’s really a way to measure how good someone is at... kissing. But in my opinion, it’s really affected by the other parts of your relationship, too. Like, if they’re caring towards you.”
“And Steve is caring?” El asks.
“Yes. He’s very attentive.”
“That sounds nice.”
“It is. It’s very nice. To have someone who really cares about everything going on with you, that’s seen you at your highest and your lowest.” Your mind goes back to last year, the junkyard. “I know it’s difficult because we’re not supposed to talk about the things that happened with the Upside Down, but it’s nice to have someone that you can talk to. No matter what.”
Her eyes are wide and doe-like, and she nods along to your words.
“Mike’s your first boyfriend, yeah?” You ask.
“Ex-boyfriend.” Max corrects.
El falls dead silent, eyes flicking to the bed.
“It’s alright. Everything will work out.” You tell her. Ah, the pains of young love. “Did I tell you that Steve’s my first boyfriend, too?”
“Really?” El’s voice is small and fragile.
“Yep. Like, my first proper one. The first boy to ask.”
Max rests her hand on El’s shoulder. “Besides, Mike’ll come crawling back to you in no time, begging for forgiveness. I guarantee you, him and Lucas are, like, totally wallowing in self-pity and misery right now. They’re, like, ‘Oh, I hope they take us back!’”
You find yourself laughing along with El at Max’s impression. Mike could be particularly whingy at times.
“God, what I wouldn’t give to see their stupid faces!”
A thought passes over El’s face.
“What is it?” Max asks.
Before you know it, El has set the radio to static and is tying a strip of black fabric over her eyes. Max is egging her on, thrilled at the notion that El can spy on the boys. It brings you back to the paddling pool in the Hawkins middle school gym. ‘Gone, gone, gone’ is what she’d said about Barb that night. It still haunts you sometimes.
“I see them.” El announces.
Max moves to her side on the floor. “What are they doing?”
“Eating.”
She pauses in concentration. You pick at ole ‘Green Gables’ again.
“They say we are ‘species’.”
“What?”
El continues. “Emotion, not logic.”
“What?!” You and Max both spit out. Was this really what the boys were saying about the girls? About women, in general? You hoped Dustin thought better than this.
El tears off the make-shift eye mask.
“What-- what happened?” Max says.
El smiles, unable to hold back a laugh. She collapses to the floor in a fit of giggles with Max soon to join her.
Outside you can hear a car door bang shut, you perk up. “Is that Hopper?”
“He can’t know we did this.” El says, wiping the trickle of blood from under her nose.
Max changes the cassette out on the boombox, passing El a magazine as the front door opens and closes harshly.
“Hey!” That’s Hopper, alright. His voice sounded horribly ragged. “Hey! When I say three inches, I--”
The bedroom door flings open making you jump.
“Do you knock? Jeez!” Max scolds the man.
What a sight he is. Half-empty wine bottle in hand, askew moustache, and a... floral shirt? Wow, this was not the Hopper you knew.
“Yeah! Jeez!” El mimics.
“Oh... Hey! I’m sorry, I thought that, uh--”
Max squints at him. “Mike’s not here.”
“Max wanted to have a sleepover. Is that... okay?”
Poor Hopper looks like a deer caught in the headlights. A very drunk deer. “Yeah. Yeah, yeah, yeah. Your parents know about it?”
“Yup.” Max nods.
“Uh, yeah. It’s cool. That’s really cool.” He glances around, wide eyes landing on you. “And, uh... Y/N? Why, why are you here?”
“I need to talk to you.” You say.
“Oh, oh. Yeah, sure.” He looks like he might topple over. “Okay.”
Pulling yourself up from El’s bed, you ditch your book again. Hopper steps out the door, and you move to close it behind you. “We’ll leave you girls to it. Good night.”
Hopper sways a bit unsteadily on his feet. You catch onto his arm and drag him back out the front door. You don’t want to have this conversation where El might hear you. You stop when you finally get him on the porch.
“You need to keep a more watchful eye on El.”
“What, why? Did something happen?” His eyes are wide, and his words slurred.
“No. Please just take my word for it. I don’t wanna be a snitch...”
He leans in close, hand on your shoulder for balance. “Do it. Snitch.”
“Wow, you are drunk-drunk, Hopp.” You laugh, removing his hand. “What the hell happened to you?”
“S’nothing.” He shrugs it off. “Was supposed to get dinner.”
“Uh-huh. And what happened at dinner?”
“Joyce stood me up.”
You bite the inside of your cheek. Joyce... as in, Mrs Byers? Wow. And ‘stood up’ as in... a date? He seemed pretty defeated over it.
“Well, not to make you feel worse, but I kinda gave up my only day off this week to babysit these two kids.” You sigh. “Steve’s gonna be pissed at me.”
“Pfft-- Steve Harrington.”
“Yeah, dude. That Steve. My boyfriend, Steve.” You reach for the wine bottle in his hands. He pulls it away, swatting at you with his free hand. “You know, I’ve never seen you drunk before, Hopp. And I hope to never see it again. You’re a real pain in the ass.”
“You’re a pain in the ass sober.” He grumbles.
Finally snatching the wine bottle off of him, you raise it victoriously. He frowns at you. And in maybe the wrong decision, you take a sip of it.
“Hey!” He points a finger at you. “You’re underage.”
“Oh, who cares? What are you gonna do, call the cops?” You raise your eyebrow in a challenge. “I fixed your damn boombox, by the way. You’re welcome.”
He grumbles again.
“What was that? Was it a ‘thank you, Y/N’?”
“Thank you, Y/N.”
You shrug in a faux-humble manner and take another swig of the wine. “You owe me, old man. Big time.”
“For the boombox?” He deadpans.
“These kids keep dragging me into their shit.”
He frowns, crossing his arms over his chest. “Why don’t you just tell me what El did today?”
“Because you’ll lose your temper.”
“Just tell me.”
“No.”
Hopper is almost glaring at you now, moustache twitching with each heaving breath. “At least give me the wine back.”
“No.”
“I swear to God, Y/N--”
Your movement cuts him off as you walk back into the house. You cross the space, darting to the kitchen where you navigate for glasses in the cupboard. You pull down two, and evenly pour the remainder of the wine into them.
With an outstretched arm, you offer one to Hopper, who stands some feet away. He looks as if he’s trying to analyse you. Unsuccessfully.
“This does not mean I condone underage drinking.” He says.
From El’s bedroom, you can hear an uproar of giggles.
“Of course not.” You nod, wiggling the offered glass in your hand. “Come on, Hopp. I don’t wanna fight.”
He takes it from you with a huff, sitting down in the living room. He pops up the bottom of his Lay-Z-Boy chair, swinging with its movements and kicks off his shoes.
You stretch out on the couch as he flicks the TV on.
Eventually you fall asleep to a rerun of ‘Miami Vice’.
fellow writers, does anyone else really hate tagging things (especially on ao3)?? i respect the need for the system, i just find it exhausting to do...
things I won’t let ai take away from human writers
em dash
“not x, not y, but z”
short sentence stacking as a stylistic choice
none of these belong to ai. these are all what human writers have been writing since day one, way before ai was invented. ai was trained to mimic how human writers write — so em dash, not x not y but z and short sentence stacking would never have been used by ai at all if ai hadn’t learned and mimicked them from human writers.
no, you are not “fighting against ai” by accusing every work that has em dash, not x not y but z or short sentence stacking in it as ai-generated, you are helping ai harm the writing community by engaging in witch hunt and scaring human writers away from creating/sharing their works for fear of being wrongly accused of using ai.
speculations, accusations and ai witch hunt harm the writing community as much as ai does, if not more.
Summary: The summer air brings a different kind of freshness to Hawkins. A new mall, your crappy minimum wage job, a weird conspiracy, your hot boyfriend, and the incessant clock ticking of college on the horizon.
Word Count: 4k
Tags: Language, sexual language/allusions to sex (MDNI), mentions of violence
PREVIOUS CHAPTER -- PART 3 MASTERLIST
Part of the 'If She Knew What She Wants' Series
June 28th, 1985
In many ways the mall had been a blessing to the town of Hawkins. Not least to you and Steve, having quickly been able to find jobs there just in time for its grand opening.
The one negative was that you had not been able to get a job at the same place.
So, whilst Steve’s days were filled with slinging ice-cream to Scoops Ahoy’s predominantly teenaged cliental, you spent your time elsewhere. That being stuck on a pair of roller skates teaching pre-teens the fundamentals of the Stardust Roller Rink.
It wasn’t such a bad gig, though. It gave you plenty of time to get your exercise in which you were somewhat grateful for. Building up the strength you’d lost whilst recovering from your leg injury. And it felt good to pull out your old skating gear for something that wasn’t lugging a crossbow over to a junkyard to hunt down Demo-dogs.
“Do that spin again!” A voice crosses the roller rink, carrying despite the loud pop music playing from above. It’s hard to focus on just about anything, lost in the beat and the neon lights bouncing across the floor. “Hey, pretty girl! Do that spin again.”
Only as you round the edge of the rink do you realise whose voice that is. And who they’re shouting at.
Steve stands, arms braced against the rink’s barrier as his eyes are keenly trained on your form. He grins when he captures your attention, holding up his hand and motioning a spin with his finger.
You roll your eyes at his antics, but give in. Getting a rolling start, you use your momentum to push yourself up in a hop. Arms to balance, you spin in air, landing gently. Weaving through the masses of kids on the rink floor, you redirect to the barrier wall.
“Hey, that was great!” Steve smiles at you, leaning further over the wall as you approach.
“What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at Scoops?”
“I can’t come visit my awesome girlfriend on my break?” He pouts. “I’ve got 15 minutes, baby.”
“Uh huh,” You nod, unconvinced. Looking out at the rink, you cringe as one of the kids falls flat on her face. Luckily, she manages to get back on her feet without your intervention. “I’m teaching a class right now, Steve.”
“Yeah, but you’ll be done soon. Six o’clock, remember?”
Your eyes widen. “Shoot, what time is it?” You don’t wait for his answer, pulling his arm from where it rests atop the barrier, glaring at his watch.
“Five minutes to six.” Steve voices for you.
“I gotta get these fuckers off the rink and their skates returned.” You throw your head back and let out a groan. These two-hour party lessons were really beginning to grind at you. There’s only so much kid-gossip you could bare. “You should just head back to Scoops. I’ll meet you there.”
“But--”
“Don’t waste your break, Steve. It’s alright, I’ll see you soon.”
Retrieving the whistle that sits low around your neck, you bring it to your lips and blow hard. The shrill sound echoes through the hall, drawing attention towards you.
“Alright skaters!” Your voice is bright and light, smile incredibly forced. “As they say, all good things must come to an end. It’s time to exit the rink and return your skates to the kiosk by the door. Thanks for coming out, y’all!”
You reach over to the barrier gate, pulling it open and holding it as the kids start skating in your direction. You begin counting them mentally as they leave the rink.
Instead of leaving, Steve has shuffled along the barrier wall to stand beside you again. “You’re so cute when you’re bossing these kids around.”
“Yeah, well, I got enough practice for it at home.” You huff. Dustin, the troublemaker, had been away at camp for almost a full month now. It left the house strangely quiet with just you and your mom puttering around. Not to say you didn’t enjoy the respite, though. “I think my jaw hurts from smiling.”
“At least you don’t have to wear this stupid uniform.”
Steve’s uniform was the bane of his existence. Don’t get the boy started about that hat, either. You’d listened to enough rants about it in the car on the way to the mall. However, you couldn’t help what the sight of him in those shorts did to you. You’d decided that you liked Steve’s uniform very much, in fact. “I like your uniform.”
“I know you do.” Steve still didn’t quite see the appeal. “But it’s totally killing my vibe, man.”
“You still have that stupid bet going with Robin?”
“It’s not really a bet.” He says as you count the last one of your kids to leave the rink. You move to follow, Steve quick to offer a hand as you step onto the carpet. “And I promise it doesn’t mean anything.”
“You’ve said that like, a million times, Steve. I don’t care if you flirt with customers, it’s not like it’s serious. You just have an ego.”
Making your way to the staff room, Steve follows. He’s been in there so often now it doesn’t really matter, especially since you usually use the delivery corridors out the back to travel between the Stardust and Scoops. Opening your locker, you retrieve your bag and shoes and sit to take your skates off.
“I don’t have an ego.” He scoffs, hands on hips.
“I mean, not in a bad way... but you kinda do.”
“I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”
“Well, you were used to being popular right? And obviously your looks mean a lot to you, Steve. Which is not a bad thing!” You cut him off with reassurance before he can argue back. “So, I honestly don’t care if you wanna flirt with customers to win this little bet with Robin or... get tips and make extra ice-cream sales. Because I know that ultimately, you’re my boyfriend.”
You finish putting on your sneakers, and tie the laces of your skates together so they’re easier to carry. You stand, reaching for the punch cards on the wall before turning towards the delivery corridor.
“That right, huh?” Steve says with a raised eyebrow. He makes it to the door first, holding it open for you. He reaches over, slipping your bag and skates from your hand into his.
“Yep.”
“Say it again, then.”
You stop in front of him, brows drawing. Say what? That he has an ego? No, that’s not it. You can see it in his eyes. “You’re mine.”
“Fuck, babe.”
Not giving him the satisfaction of hanging around, you pass him and enter the empty corridor. He trails lamely behind you all the way back to Scoops Ahoy.
“You’re a tease.” Steve grumbles as you enter the Scoops back room, watching when you flop down at the little table they use for their breaks. He sets your belongings on the empty chair beside you.
“You asked for it.” You shrug.
He sighs. “Yeah, I did.”
Steve is not given much time to ruminate on this admission, as the frosted glass window separating the back of house from the front slides open, his coworker Robin poking her head through. Her eyes dart between you and Steve. You don’t miss the way they linger on yourself. She was an odd one. “Oh good, you’re back. Your children are here, dingus.”
“Again, seriously?” Steve groans.
Robin leans back, revealing Mike standing at the counter. He rings the bell with a particularly defiant look on his face. Behind him stands Will, Lucas and Max.
“Fine, fine, okay...” Steve paces over to the door, opening it for the kids to come into the staff room. Steve had complained to you plenty about this, but with Dustin away it was the first time you’d actually witnessed it. Once Mike had heard about the delivery corridor, he’d figured out a more creative use for it... sneaking into the movie theatre. “Let’s go, Wheeler. Make it snappy.”
The kids filter into the small kitchen-esque room with satisfied smirks on their faces. Mike ignores you, but Will and Lucas wave as they pass.
Max breaks out into a surprised grin as she spots you. “Y/N! You have to come with us, we’re going to see ‘Day of the Dead’.”
“Aw, sorry, no thanks, Max. Don’t wanna intrude on your date night.”
She scoffs whilst a proud look comes across Lucas’ face. Mike and Will grumble something about being late for the film.
“It’s not a date with these two dorks tagging along.” Max glares at the boys. “Please, Y/N?”
“Sorry, kid. I promised Steve to hang out here tonight.”
“Seriously, in this dump?”
“Hey!” Steve protests.
The staff room wasn’t so bad really. It wasn’t cosy by any stretch of the imagination, but it was much more private than the roller rink’s back office.
“You always hang out with Steve.” She complains.
Between work and Steve, you really hadn’t spent much time with her or El lately. Not even Nancy and Jonathan, who’d gotten tied up interning for the Hawkins’ Post. Admittedly, you did feel a bit guilty about that. “Well, he is my boyfriend. Plus,” You reach into your bag, pulling out some tools and a busted boombox. “I promised Hopper I would fix this for him.”
Max groans. “Ugh, I can’t believe I’m friends with so many nerds.”
“We’re going to be late!” Lucas complains.
Max finally gives up with a shake of her head, and the kids make their way to the door. They mutter a chorus of ‘bye’ and ‘see ya later’.
Steve now stands there, holding it open for them with an annoyed look on his face. “Come on,” He waves them through. “I swear, if anyone hears about this--”
“We’re dead!” The kids echo back, disappearing down the corridor.
“Can you believe those shitheads?” Steve asks, letting the door fall closed behind him. “They come in here, demanding to use the corridor, and then try to steal you away from me!”
“I don’t think they were trying to steal me.”
He comes to a rest, leaning on the table in front of you. One hand closing you in, the other on his hip. “Max totally was. I only have you for... two more months, Y/N. Two! So, sue me for wanting to spend time with you.”
Your heart sinks a little at the thought. Two more months and you’d be off to Boston, M.I.T. specifically. Until then, you were taking it one day at a time. Steve had become mighty clingy in the meantime, and a bit jealous of anything dividing your attention.
“Hey, Harrington.” Robin slides the window open again. “Quit making out with your girlfriend and get out here. I could really use some help.”
“Uh, no. It’s still my break.” Steve scoffs at her.
“For like, 30 more seconds. Come on, dingus.”
Steve sends you a pleading look. You wave him off, shooing him away. “Go help her. I’ll be right here.”
Leaning up, you push a light kiss to his lips before pulling back with an expectant look. Begrudgingly Steve stands with a huff, his eyes staying on you as he walks all the way to the door. Pushing through, it swings shut behind him. You can hear a muffled ‘Ahoy, ladies!’ from the other side.
With a breathless sigh, you turn to the broken boombox in front of you. Hopper had told you El had busted it with her powers. You’d offered to fix it for the chance to fiddle with some electronics, he knew it was one of your vices. You set to work opening it up with a screwdriver.
You’d just gotten the front panel unscrewed from the body when the overhead light flickers off. You stare at it, waiting for the bulbs to flash back to life.
At the sound of rhythmic tapping, you stand and open the door to the shop. Steve is standing directly in the doorway, rapidly flicking the light switch to no avail.
“What are you doing?” You ask, raising an eyebrow.
“The dingus thinks he can fix the lights.”
You blink at Robin’s response. “The lights are down back there, too.” You jerk your thumb over your shoulder. “It’s probably a mall-wide outage, flicking the switch isn’t gonna do anything.”
“You tell your boyfriend that.”
“I’ve got it, babe.” Steve smiles at you. He continues flicking the switch. “Lights will be back on in no time.”
You pat his shoulder with a sigh. “Sure, buddy.”
This goes on for another minute or so, with the customers staring at Steve expectantly. Looking out of the shop’s front, you can see that it’s definitely not a Scoop-only problem. You were just happy you’d finished work in time to not deal with a blacked-out roller rink and a gaggle of screaming children echoing through the mall’s atrium. You can just imagine the carnage, a stampede of children skating in the dark. Yikes.
Unexpectedly, the lights flash back on. The Scoop’s nautical music restarting.
“Let there be light.” Steve shrugs at Robin.
She doesn’t seem impressed.
June 29th, 1985
Your bedside alarm wakes you up with the radio springing to life. You like it that way, being woken by either the morning babble of the radio hosts or caught mid-song. Steve, distinctly, did not. Although you’re not sure he ever particularly liked being woken up, no matter the way or reason.
After he finished his shift late last night, he’d come back to your house.
It was the rare occasion of having Dustin and your mom away simultaneously, as she’d left yesterday to pick him up from his nerd camp. They wouldn’t be returning until late in the morning, so you’d be missing him until you finished work in the evening.
“Would you turn that off?” Steve mumbles into the pillow.
“No.”
“Please?”
“I like it.” You shift the covers away from your body with a sigh, moving to sit up.
Steve snuggles further into your side, keeping you in place. “I like you. I don’t like your alarm.”
“Stop being dramatic,” You chastise. The room had gotten warm during the summer night, too warm. And Steve holding you to the bed was making it worse. You reach over, pushing his hair away from his face. It had grown so long recently. “You’re hot.”
“So are you.”
“No, I mean in temperature. I’m gonna need a cold shower.”
Steve smirks at you. “I can think of other reasons to have a cold shower.”
“Ugh, dirty mind, we’ve got places to be.” You finally extract yourself from his arms despite Steve’s protesting. As you stand, you reach over, turning the radio off. “Happy now?”
“I’d prefer if you got back in bed.”
“Whilst I would love that, Steve, I would also love to not be late for work.”
He groans but sits up, swinging his legs off the edge of the bed. “Yeah, you’re right.” You both go about getting dressed, you can’t help the way your eyes linger as Steve pulls on his uniform. Chest hair disappearing behind his shirt. “You’ll come over to Scoops during your lunch break, right?”
“Yeah, of course.” You smile. “I’ll probably come ‘round about one or so.”
“Cool. And after?”
“Uh, I finish at six again. But I was gonna take a walkie with me today so Dusty could call me. I think he might want me to meet him somewhere.”
Steve seems disappointed. “Really?”
“Yeah, he said something about it when he called home a few days ago. I think he built a radio tower.”
“A radio tower?”
“Yeah, like a HAM radio. He claimed his is better, though.”
Honestly, Dustin’s nerd camp, sorry, Camp Know-Where, hadn’t sounded so bad from all the reporting back he’d done during his time there. You’d heard from him once a week, and each time it sounded like he’d been busy building some sort of new toy.
“Okay, then.” Steve nods but doesn’t seem to really understand. “Well, I don’t finish until late today, so...”
“Oh, that sucks.”
“Yep.” He agrees.
You finish dressing, turning back to Steve as you pull on a pair of sneakers. “I have a day off tomorrow. Figured I would bring Dustin to the mall, and we could spend the day with you.”
“I still have to work.”
“I know, but you also know I don’t mind hanging around Scoops all day, either. Plus, maybe if I’m there you can put your moves on me and start getting a few marks on the ‘you rule’ side of the board.” You step towards Steve, crossing the small distance of your room. He lifts his head as you reach out, hooking a finger on one of his belt loops. You reel him in until he stands between your legs. “What’re you gonna do, sue me for wanting to spend time with you?”
The playful spark you love so much returns with a roll of his eyes. “That’s my line.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yep.”
“Too bad,” You lean up and kiss him. “I stole it.”
You’re finishing up your shift at the Stardust when your walkie-talkie finally crackles to life. You’d been standing by the snack counter, gossiping, as you were counting down the minutes to the end of your shift.
“Come in, Bolts, I repeat, come in. Over.”
“Hey, is that you, Nuts?” You smile down the receiver.
Your coworker standing behind the counter, Stephanie, gives you a funny look.
When you’d gotten your own walkie-talkie a few months back Dustin had proposed needing codenames. For what, you didn’t know. You’d landed on Nuts and Bolts.
“You didn’t say ‘over’. Over.”
“Okay, Nuts. I’ll take that as a yes. Over.”
You can hear Dustin’s annoyed groan on the other end of the line. You stifle a giggle, finding it amusing that you could annoy him from a distance. Maybe you should carry a walkie more often. “Bolts, I need you to meet me at Weathertop. Over.”
“Straight to business, huh? Alright, Nuts. Copy that, I’ll be there after six. Over and out.”
Stephanie leans over the counter as you reattach the walkie to your belt. “What was that about?”
“My little brother is back in town, he’s been at camp for a month.”
“And he’s annoying you already?” Stephanie scoffs. “If my kid brother went away for that long, I’d ask if they could keep him forever.”
“Oh,” You gasp, a bit stunned. Sure, a lot of people didn’t like their siblings, but underneath all the mild bullying, you couldn’t imagine hating Dustin that much. “Well, Dustin’s not so bad, really. I’m gonna miss him a lot when I go to college.”
“If you say so.” Stephanie shrugs.
The last ten minutes before you clocked out really dragged.
The drive to Mount Weathertop does not take too long altogether, the only downside being that approaching from the angle of the mall, the road tapers off real quick. You end up parked on the side of the road and hiking the rest of the way.
By the time you reach the top, the sky has darkened significantly.
“Hey, Nuts! Do you copy? Over.” You shout as you catch sight of Dustin.
He’s standing alone beside a shoddily standing radio tower; one good gust of wind could probably blow the thing over.
“Six o’clock my ass, Y/N!” He calls back. “Where the hell have you been?”
“Uh, walking up this fuck ass hill mostly. I said I’d be here after six. Well, here I am.” You place your hands on your hips as Dustin stares you down. He was kitted out in Camp Know-Where merch, ditching his usual cap for a green and yellow number. “Where are the other shitheads? They told me they were gonna spend the day with you.”
“Oh, uh...” Dustin looks away, avoiding eye contact. “You just missed them. Well, Max, Lucas, and Will left after I called you. But El and Mike ditched us ages ago.”
“Wait, they all left you up here? Alone?”
“Yeah...”
You suck your teeth, holding back any bitter comments about the kids. Unimpressed by their behaviour as they really shouldn’t be doing this sort of thing after everything happened with the Upside Down. But you don’t voice these concerns, knowing they would just upset Dustin.
You shift the attention. “This the tower, then?”
“Yeah. I’m calling it Cerebro.”
“Like Professor X?” He nods in confirmation to your question. “Sick.”
“I’m telling you, this puppy has reach. I’m talking north to south.”
You raise an eyebrow. This shaky thing? Never underestimate the power of science. “Of America?”
“Try the poles.” Dustin has a smug smile plastering his face.
Turns out you had underestimated it. “Dang, Dusty. That’s pretty tight. Wanna show me how it works?”
“Obviously.” He scoffs. “But I’ve had a little trouble with it.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. I’ve been trying to get in contact with Suzie,” Ah, Suzie. The girl he couldn’t quit singing praises about over the phone. It was nice he’d made a friend at camp. “But I’ve had no luck. Maybe I’ve been on the wrong frequency?”
“You check the connections and the antenna feed lines?”
“Uh...”
“Alright, we’ll adjust the frequencies first to see if we can pick anything up before we start troubleshooting. Sound like a plan, Nuts?”
Dustin nods, curly hair bouncing under the edge of his hat. “Copy that, Bolts.”
Together you kneel beside Cerebro, Dustin giving you the run-down of how he’d constructed it at camp with Suzie. That she’d made a matching one so that she could reach him all the way from her home in Salt Lake City. Dustin calls down the line a few more times for Suzie, with no response.
So, you adjust. One notch up, then two notches down. Still no Suzie. You’re about to suggest pulling Cerebro apart to check for loose wires when it springs to life.
At first the broadcast is weak, crackling with every word. You share a glance of confusion with Dustin as your hands clash to fiddle with the settings. It finally cuts through, the sound of it stronger than before.
“...вы будете осторожны.”
“What the fuck was that?”
“I think it was Russian.” Dustin states, matter-of-factly.
“Well, yeah. But how did we pick up a Russian broadcast?” You ask. Dustin begins to protest about how good Cerebro is, that its signal could reach the USSR easily. You shake your head. “No, their messages should be encoded. We shouldn’t be able to pick it up at all.”
He frowns. “You think it’s important?”
“Do I look like I speak Russian?”
“I don’t know what you got up to whilst I was at camp!” Dustin’s pitch rises as he throws his hands up with a dramatic shrug. No, you had not learned Russian during the single month he’d been away. Although, that would be rather impressive if you had. You make a mental note to look into learning Russian. Dustin gasps. “Wait, maybe it’s a code.”
“A code?”
“Yeah! Like a super-secret Russian code. They wouldn’t need to hide it if they thought nobody could understand its meaning.”
“Well—Yes, I mean... that could be true.”
Dustin scrambles, reaching for his backpack which had been abandoned on the grass. He starts pulling out different objects: a screwdriver, a flashlight. Not stopping until he reveals a cassette tape recorder. You don’t question why he has that in his bag.
“Then we should translate it.”
“It could just be some old babushka's grocery list for all we know, Dusty.”
“Yeah, or we could become American heroes! What if it’s some top-secret message? We could save the world. Again.”
“Maybe I don’t want to save the world again, Dusty.” You sigh. It hardly felt like that was what you did: ‘save the world’. No, El had been the one to do that.
But what if you were right? That this message was nothing more than some signals getting crossed. Well, it would be harmless then.
The radio statics again. Dustin clicks the recorder on. “Неделя длинная. Серебряный кот питается, когда на западе синий встречается с желтым. Поездка в Китай звучит неплохо, если вы будете осторожны.”
“The end... It was the same as the last one.” You realise.
Dustin grins. “Secret. Code.”
Author's Note: This fic is part of the 'If She Knew What She Wants' Series. You can find the link to the full series masterlist (links to the other parts and interludes) here.
Summary: The summer air brings a different kind of freshness to Hawkins. A new mall, your crappy minimum wage job, a weird conspiracy, your hot boyfriend, and the incessant clock ticking of college on the horizon.
Warnings: SMUT (18+ only, MDNI), language, violence, angst, mentions of drug use, mentions of death, death
FULL SERIES MASTERLIST (Link to the other parts)
Part of the 'If She Knew What She Wants' Series
PART 3: What I Meant to Say (is that I’m in Love)
CHAPTER 1 – I Pick the Place, I Pick the Day
CHAPTER 2 – Have the Phrases Memorised so Carefully
CHAPTER 3 – Keep My Mind Distracted (18+ only, MDNI)
CHAPTER 4 – We can Laugh and Talk till Evening
CHAPTER 5 – I Could Tell that You Never had a Clue
CHAPTER 6 – I Found More Love than I Could Tell You Of (coming soon)
CHAPTER 7 – It’s a Simple Honest Thing
CHAPTER 8 – Just to Close my Eyes and Tell You
CHAPTER 9 – I Never Felt like this Before
Updated May 1st 2026
Author's Note: This is the masterlist for Part 3 of the 'If She Knew What She Wants' Series. You can find the link to the full series masterlist (links to the other parts and interludes) here.
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After being assembled, our Nancy Grace Roman Space Telescope has passed final tests, and is being prepared to move to our Kennedy Space Center in Florida, where teams will work to prepare it for a launch in early September 2026.
With a field of view at least 100 times larger than Hubble's, Roman can potentially measure light from a billion galaxies in its lifetime. It will also be able to block starlight to directly see exoplanets and planet-forming disks, complete a statistical census of planetary systems in our galaxy, and settle essential questions in the areas of dark energy, exoplanets, and infrared astrophysics.
The observatory is named after Dr. Nancy Grace Roman, NASA’s first chief astronomer who made cosmic vistas readily accessible to all by paving the way for telescopes based in space.
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