#mayfield reader

"Close your eyes," you sang the lyrics to your younger sister. Max was currently laying on the couch in the Wheeler's basement with her head in your lap. Her blue eyes were wide and bloodshot, burning a hole in the ceiling above.

Just hours ago, you were certain you'd lost her. She'd written letters to everyone she cared about, knowing she was marked for death. You'd thrown yours to the ground, refusing to accept her fate.

But even your sisterly devotion had its limits. When she rose into the air at the graveyard, you'd never been so scared in your life. You hadn't cried like that since the night Billy died. And when she narrowly escaped death? You'd told yourself you'd never let her go.

"Have no fear," the song continued. The basement was full of teenagers, all seemingly shook up by the events of the afternoon. Being the oldest, you and Steve had taken to trying to keep the most level heads about it all. You'd saved the world twice now, what's one last hurrah? After all, the third time's a charm.

You smiled at the sight of Dustin Henderson beginning to nod off in the corner. The boy hadn't slept properly in days, too worried about clearing Eddie's name. Lucas wasn't much better off, sat on the floor in front of the couch, his hand tightly clutching Max's. Even if he drifted to the alluring call of sleep, he wasn't letting her go. Not ever.

That was what you liked so much about him. He loved your sister almost as much as you did. Almost, because no one could love her quite like a sibling could. Still, he was the best thing that had ever happened to her. No one could make her laugh like he could. It was the kind of joy you'd only seen when she was little.

Still, your sister didn't have the sense that whatever higher power there was gave her. They were on and off again constantly, much to your astonishment.

You'd tried to talk some sense into Max on the scarce phone calls while you were away at college when she informed you she'd dumped Lucas for the 'nth time.

"He's such a dick! There's no coming back from this. I'm telling you, it's really over now. For good."

"What'd he do this time?"

"He joined the basketball team."

"...Maxine."

"Don't 'Maxine' me, you know that's bullshit! Since when is Lucas Sinclair a preppy asshole jock? He wears that stupid letterman jacket all the time now."

"You're right. That's a deal breaker. The horror!"

She'd laughed after you said that. It was the closest to happy you'd heard her since Billy died. When your laughter died down, it was quiet again.

"You should cut him some slack. It's his first year being a high schooler. He's finding his way, just like everyone else. Just like you," you said softly into the phone. "Mom told me you're seeing the therapist at school now. That's good. Ms. Kelly is great."

"What the hell do you know about Ms. Kelly?"

You paused. Right. You always did keep your therapy sessions in high school a secret from everyone, including your nosy sister.

"Nothing. I've just heard good things from other people," you lied smoothly. Lying to Max had never been easy, but it was doable when she wasn't staring you in the face.

"She's alright. I talk. She listens. I go about my day. A waste of time, if you ask me."

You hummed. It was quiet again. You couldn't help but feel like the longer you were away from Max, the more she seemed to... drift. You two were less birds of a feather, more passing acquaintances now. You hated the bitter taste it left in your mouth, the way it made your chest tighten in ways you hadn't felt since Billy died.

"Max..." you'd started, but your tone was too obvious. It was clear the conversation was going to get serious, and Max couldn't handle that. She never was good at talking to you about her feelings that she thought you cared way too much about.

"I have to go. Gotta wake Mom up so she doesn't miss her shift again."

And just like that, you were back to square one. You sighed on your end, staring at your dorm room ceiling.

"Okay. Love you. Call me when you two are back together."

Then, you heard the familiar dial tone of the call being disconnected.

You ran your hand over her hair now, brushing back a few stray strands that had escaped her braids. "The monster's gone, he's on the run, and your sissy's here," you lilted. Max finally smiled, even managing an unsteady laugh at the lyric change. You echoed her, your voice catching in your throat as your own tears caught up with you. You blinked them back as best as you could, determined not to let her see you cry. Otherwise, she'd never sleep.

"Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful... beautiful girl."

When she finally let her eyes shut, you let out a breath of relief. You closed your own eyes for a moment, and when they opened, your gaze met a brown eyed stare from across the room.

"How's she holding up?" Steve asked, the concern evident in the way his gaze softened on you and the girl laying on your lap.

"She's fine, I think. As good as she can be when you're being hunted by a demon sorcerer, anyways," you exhaled, trying to make a joke of the increasingly abysmal situation you found yourself tangled in.

Why was it always your family? This monster had taken enough from you both already. Billy wasn't much. He was an asshole. He resented you and Max for having to move to Hawkins in the first place, and he made your life hell every chance he got. At the end of the day, though, he was still your brother. He didn't deserve what he got.

Max had always hoped that, one day, you could all be a real family. Real brother and sisters. You weren't so naive, not so optimistic that Billy would've ever changed, but you'd at least wanted him to have the chance to prove you wrong.

You'd never know, and that was what stung the most. The perpetual 'what-if' of it all. The constant questioning of what you could've done differently to save him, how you could've traded places with him. Anything to save Max from the hurt that she felt in his absence, from the words she'd said at his grave.

"You have a pretty voice, you know. I've never heard you sing."

Steve's words snapped you back to reality like a splash of cold water. You were spiraling again, something you had a tendency to do. You smiled, your brows raising in amusement.

"You never went to any of my shows?"

Steve scoffed lightly, rolling his eyes with a boyish grin.

"Please. I wouldn't have been caught dead at one of those musicals in high school. I had a reputation to protect," he responded, a defensive edge in his tone. He stilled a moment, then shook his head. "I was too much of an idiot to go back then."

"You weren't missing much. It wasn't exactly Broadway," you comforted. He had a nasty habit of talking down about his old self in recent days. Sure, he'd come a long way. You'd heard that he could be a royal douche in the years before you and your sister had moved to Hawkins.

But still, something about the way he seemed so disappointed in himself rubbed you the wrong way. He looked like a kicked puppy. Like a sinner who thought himself damned beyond saving.

"No, you're right," he said, "I bet it was better than Broadway if you were in it."

The words took you off guard, making your hand pause its ministrations in Max's hair. Steve seemed to surprise even himself, and a blush that looked entirely out of character on him covered his face.

"I just mean — well, you know. Just that you're not a bad singer. Probably better than anyone else in Hawkins, anyways," he stammered out. A feeble attempt to backtrack.

You giggled, now giving him your full attention.

"Well, the bar was pretty low. My stiffest competition was—"

"—Tammy Thompson," he finished your sentence, now chuckling right along with you. You tried to shush him between fits of quiet giggling, waving a hand at him.

"She really did give me a run for my money in auditions!"

"She sounds like a Muppet, Mayfield."

"A very talented Muppet."

"Can she even hold a tune?" Steve whispered in an exasperated tone, his eyes wide at the fact you were actually defending her. Hell, she was cute, but she wasn't Farrah Fawcett. Were you like Robin? Hopelessly in love with Tammy? That would be just his luck. He was a supporter, but he couldn't bear the blow to his ego again if you were also playing for the other team.

"Well, not really, actually—" you started, but were swiftly interrupted by a stampede of footsteps running downstairs.

"Guys, Eddie keeps on calling the radio for beer—" Robin started clumsily, stumbling down to the bottom step before stopping to stare at the state of you and Steve Harrington. She blinked, brows scrunching together in confusion.

"What's so funny?" She asked.

You exchanged a glance with Steve before bursting into hushed laugher once again.

Miraculously, Max slept soundly through your not-so-subtle laughter with Steve. You maneuvered your way carefully off the couch before gently sitting a nearby cushion under her head.

You gave a slight nudge with your foot to Dustin, waking him up.

"Hey kid," you said.

He groaned, rubbing his eyes to adjust to the light of the basement.

"I told you to stop calling me that. I'm barely younger than you," he huffed. "What is it?"

"Mhm," you hummed, a ghost of a grin on your lips, "I need you to watch Max. You know, make sure she doesn't start floating or some shit again."

"Yeah, yeah. I got it. Babysitter duty."

"That's the spirit, Henderson," Steve called from the staircase, smirking triumphantly from ear to ear. He was positively beaming to have someone take that burden from him for once.

You couldn't help the way you seemed to mirror his expression, a fondness in his eyes making you feel warm. He'd always been attractive in high school, but there was something about the way he seemed to care so much about you and your sister that beckoned you to him.

Neither one of you talked much, apart from your side quests saving the world. After all, he was still pining for Nancy, wasn't he? You both had so little in common it was laughable. Besides, it would never work. When this was all over, you'd go back to New York. Back to where you belonged.

Still though, it was nice to indulge your fantasies from time to time. Especially when he looked at you like he really thought you were something special. You didn't know much about Steve Harrington, but you knew that he was someone special. He'd be a good boyfriend to a nice girl who deserved it one day.

But now was neither the time nor the place to be thinking about any of that. You were on a mission: Save your sister, clear Eddie's name, save the world. In that order.

Steve nodded to the stairs, giving you a hand up. Your hand felt a jolt of electricity like you'd been shocked when it touched his, and it lingered for a moment before you both quickly pulled away and started up the stairs at the same time.

It was a narrow staircase, causing you both to bump into each other.

"Oh, sorry—"

"—no, it's my bad," Steve said. You both froze before letting out breathy laughter at the awkward situation, his body pressed close to yours. You stared up at him, your head tilting to the side before he motioned forward.

"Ladies first."

"Huh. I guess chivalry isn't dead," you mused with a coy grin, noticing the way he chuckled to himself before following you up.

Robin stood at the top of the staircase, giving Steve a pointed look when he reached the top. When he avoided her gaze, she glanced between you and him before breaking out into a smirk and began suggestively raising her brows.

"Not a word," he mumbled, nudging her with his elbow as they walked to the kitchen.

Eddie the Banished (a title of his fashioning) was crackling through the walkie talkie, insisting on an emergency food delivery. One that included an egregious amount of beer. Was it the brightest idea to get the fugitive drunk? Probably not, but then again, you weren't a wanted man.

"I can make the run to the store. It's just down the block from Max and I's house," you said. Just down the block from your plot of land, really. You didn't know if you could call the trailer a house.

Steve was shaking his head almost instantaneously.

"No, you need to stay here. With Max. In case she goes all Poltergeist again," he responded.

"I'm quick. I can take my car and drive back before Max is even awake."

"Yeah, well, the Beamer is faster. I'll go."

"You can't possibly expect to carry all that stuff back on your own," you quipped, letting out a huff of air.

"No, I can't. That's why Nancy and Robin will come with me."

"But Nancy and Robin need to debrief everyone on the information they figured out about that Victor Creel guy. I'm useless to Max right now. I don't know anything, and I can't just sit here doing nothing," you fired back, your brows furrowing. Why was he so hellbent on fighting you on this?

You looked to Robin and Nancy for support, but for once, they weren't backing you up. A tense silence filled the air.

"For once, I agree with Steve. You need to stay here... Just in case," Nancy said quietly. Robin wouldn't meet your eyes.

"In case of what?" You asked, staring at the three of them.

Until it clicked. You tensed where you stood, a chill running down your spine.

"You mean, in case she dies."

The guilty looks on their faces told you everything you needed to know. How little confidence they had in their ability to save the world this time. They looked ashamed for thinking it, but it was too late to take it back. Because now... you were thinking it too.

"In case that sick freak gets to her before we can save her. That's what you're saying, isn't it?" You whispered. The last thing you needed was Max hearing this, or seeing the way your face paled.

You felt like you were going to be sick.

"Mayfield—" Steve started, but you weren't having it.

"Fine, then. Go. I'm staying," you mumbled, shaking your head to try and freeze the tears where they brimmed in your eyes. The lump in your throat felt like it was growing larger by the second, and you darted downstairs before anyone could stop you.

Lucas and Max were still fast asleep, and Dustin had seemingly dozed off again. He'd make a terrible babysitter.

You sat down with a thud onto the couch opposite Max and Lucas, taking it upon yourself to assume watch duty. Seconds passed, then minutes, then what felt like hours. In that time, all you did was stare at Max. Your head was pounding, your thoughts only getting increasingly darker.

Steve wasn't here to pull you from your thoughts this time. Your chest was getting tight again, like all the air had been sucked from the room. Small gasps for breath left your lips, but nothing seemed to help. You stood and began to pace the room.

You couldn't do this. Not again. You couldn't lose another person, especially not Max. Not your baby sister.

But what could you do? You couldn't see this monster that was preying on her, you couldn't find it. It was in her mind. How could you stop something you weren't even sure existed? And if it did exist, how could you ever be powerful enough to stop it? You weren't a fighter like Nancy. You'd never shot a gun. You didn't have a wooden baseball bat studded with long nails like Steve. You most definitely didn't have psychic mind powers like Eleven. You were useless, and now you were going to lose yet another sibling because you failed to protect them.

The pounding in your head was excruciating, and the ringing in your ears was deafening now. You winced when you felt a liquid drip onto your lip. Your fingertips touched it, and you held your hand in front of you, only to be greeted by the sight of crimson blood.

"Y/N!"

Max's voice pulled you from your thoughts, her hand shaking you. The ringing was gone. The headache, too. You looked at her, then back at your hand. No blood. Where were her headphones? When had she woken up? You were just watching her—

"There you are. You were getting all spacey again," she huffed.

You managed a weak smile, nodding slowly.

"I can't sleep. I keep seeing him," Max admitted, the familiar fear in her eyes returning.

"Lay down. I'll sing your song again."

She settled back down on the couch, looking up at you expectantly.

"Close your eyes," you sang softly, hand brushing through her hair in that comforting way only you knew.

"Have no fear. The monster's gone, he's on the run, and your sissy's here."

You opened your mouth to continue, only Max beat you to it.

"But he's not gone, is he?"

Your brows scrunched together, and you looked down to meet her eyes.

"Who isn't gone, Max?"

"The monster," she answered simply. As if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "He's not gone at all. He never left. He's always here. Watching, listening, waiting..." she trailed off.

You froze. Words didn't come to you at first, listening to her talk like this. It was eerie how calm she was, talking about it like she was totally unbothered. The fear in her eyes from earlier was nowhere to be found. You opened and closed your mouth a few times, struggling to come up with a response, and that was when she sat up on the couch. Were her eyes that bloodshot before?

"Our friends are weak. They have no idea how to fight the monster. But I don't have to be scared anymore. Because you can save me."

Something was very, very wrong with Max.

You stood up, an action that she mirrored.

"I will save you. I promise you, Max. I won't fail you, not like..." you whispered, your voice beginning to choke up again like before as you trailed off. Your eyes were stinging with unshed tears, your heart racing and your palms starting to sweat.

She was smiling now. Her features looked more and more unnatural, her eyes becoming hazy and lifeless.

"Not like you failed Billy?" She asked, her voice now distorted and unnatural.

"You... I did everything I could to save him, Max, you know that," you tried weakly.

"But it wasn't enough, was it? You failed because you weren't strong enough. You're the weakest one here, and everyone knows it."

You let out a gasp, your eyes now widening as you stepped backwards. Your back hit the wall, and Max only walked closer and closer.

"But you can still fix things. You can still make things right and save me," she offered with a sinister smile. One that seemed far too freakish for her face.

But you were desperate.

"How?" you whispered.

She seemed pleased that you'd asked, a mischievous and malicious delight in her eyes.

"You can do what you should've done in Billy's place last year. In my place this year. You... can die."

An ominous and hellish strike of metal bars in what you believed to be the menacing chime of a clock resonated in the room around you. You couldn't breathe, now frantically looking around the room that was rapidly decomposing around you. The wallpaper peeled off the walls, the roof beginning to cave in. The couches around you were empty, with Dustin and Lucas nowhere to be seen.

"Shit, shit, shit," you mumbled, hands now shaking by your sides. Red liquid oozed out of the walls, flooding into the room.

When you turned back around once more, your sister was gone. Instead, what stood in her place was a monster. The monster. You let gasp of shock, stumbling backwards away from him.

"Y/N," the monster called your name, his voice a low and raspy growl that paralyzed you.

You'd been running just about your entire life from everything. You ran from facing your trauma, your grief after losing your brother. You ran from Hawkins. You ran from Max. You told yourself it was for the best, that you were flying far away from Hawkins. But in your absence, life had gotten infinitely worse for your abandoned little sister. You weren't running. Not anymore.

"What do you want?" You asked it, your voice trembling. The monster only stared at you in response. This angered you, and that unbridled desperation to escape gnawed at you stronger than your fear.

"I said, what do you want from me?!" You screamed at the creature, your voice a broken cry. You hadn't realized you were crying now. The monster vanished now, and your eyes widened. Had you scared it off? Surely it couldn't be that easy.

"I want you to finally take your rightful place here, with me," a male's voice drawled behind you. Your body went rigid, because it was a voice you knew all too well. A voice you did not need to turn to recognize.

His blonde hair came into view first as Billy circled you like a shark, smiling menacingly.

"Come on, Y/N. I couldn't save her, and if you don't do this, you won't either. No one can save her but you," he whispered after stopping behind you and leaning close to your ear.

"Shut up," you whispered, but he was convincing. Billy always was persuasive. He'd gotten you to do his homework his whole life in exchange for being just a little less of a jackass when his dad wasn't around to keep him in check.

"He's offering you a way out. That's what you always wanted, right? To leave, and to save Max."

"Shut the hell up!"

"Take the deal. Let him in. Come home with me, so we can be a real family."

That was the final blow to any resistance you had. The monster was back, Billy was gone, and you found yourself at the bargaining table with the devil.

"How do I know you're not lying to me?" You muttered, voice hoarse from screaming as you looked up at the devilish figure with tear stained cheeks and reddened eyes.

"I only need one of you. Both of you suffice my needs."

You stared at the table, before giving him a slow nod. Bile rose in your throat when he smiled.

"I'll return in three days time to collect you."

And just like that, you were back in the Wheeler's basement. Your sister and her friends were fast asleep, and you sat with the knowledge of having just signed your life away.

"Mayfield, get up here! We're back with the stuff."

authors note: if you're reading this, ilysm! thank you for all the support, i feel really happy to know people enjoy my writing. let me know if you'd be interested in a part three!

Now if you asked Steve and Robin that? They’d freak out, assert they were just friends, platonic with a capital P. You almost believed them sometimes; mostly when Steve would turn those puppy dog eyes on you and you almost thought you had a chance with him.

Like earlier today, when Steve had grabbed your wrist, thumb stroking delicately against your pulse point; asking how you were holding up after learning your little sister likely only had 24 hours left to live, unless your friends figured out a way to stop Vecna’s curse.

Or like last week, when you and the party had gone out to the local diner. The kids had practically scarfed down the shared fries, leaving you none and your meal hadn’t come with any.

Upon seeing the disappointed look on your face, Steve had pushed his plate of the fried goodness towards you, claiming he wasn’t hungry anymore when you knew he’d normally demolish his food whole.

There was also that time a month ago when you and Steve were in charge of getting the popcorn and snacks at the movies tor everyone. When the teens behind you in line had been a bit rambunctious and bumped into you, Steve was quick to place his hand on your lower back, guiding you just a bit closer to him. He hadn’t taken it off until you were done ordering.

There was a series of things that Steve did that would forever be ingrained into your mind; the casual compliments he’d throw your way nearly on a daily basis, how he remembered you liked Diet Coke over regular, noticing when you went quiet - always the first to check in with you, or more recently letting you cry into his arms about the fact that your sister had been snarkier to you now than ever before.

So, yeah, you could believe they weren’t secretly together when Steve treated you that way, but you mostly chalked it up to him just being a good guy - because Robin and Steve were around each other constantly, attached at the hip. Working together, hanging out together, and Steve had dragged Robin into you and your friends' world permanently.

Which, don’t you get wrong, you loved Robin. She was hilarious, insanely smart, and fiercely cared about your friends. Dustin noticed these things about her too, and was constantly pushing Steve to go for it, which always hurt you more than you cared to admit. Why didn’t Dustin think that you were good enough for Steve?

As much as Robin and Steve vehemently denied that anything was going on between them, you didn’t want to get stuck in one of those situations where the guy had to choose between his best friend or girlfriend because he was secretly harboring feelings for the best friend.

So you kept your mouth shut, feelings for Steve tucked away inside of you. You were good at pretending.

No one knew how you truly felt, not even your own sister who was the most observant person you knew and could smell desperation from a mile away.

You had always been good about pretending in front of Max because you were the older sister. You had to be strong for her.

You had to be strong and pretend like it hadn’t shattered your heart to leave your dad behind in California. You had to be strong and pretend like Neil and Billy hadn’t scared the absolute shit out of you for their aggressive behavior. You had to be strong and pretend to be positive about the move to Hawkins even though it made you full of dread. That one wasn’t just for Max, but for your mom too.

The move to Hawkins had indeed been hell on Earth like you assumed it would be.

It had been one bad thing after another. Max and you getting involved in a world of alternate realities. Billy being controlled by the Mindflayer, then sacrificing himself; dying in front of your eyes. Your stepfather up and leaving your mom afterwards, which caused her to spiral into drinking after having to get two jobs just to make ends meet. Moving into the trailer park which you knew people would judge you about. The cherry on top was finding out that this Vecna asshole had now made your baby sister his next target.

The one good thing to come out of moving to Hawkins? Steve Harrington.

It’s why it was so, so unfair that you had these feelings for him and felt like you couldn’t say anything about it to him.

Steve had become a constant in your life. He had protected you and your sister from Billy that night he came searching at the Byers house, had always given the two of you free ice cream when he worked at Scoops Ahoy, drove you to school because he knew you and Max thought the bus was disgusting.

Somewhere along the way he was no longer Steve; the guy you went to school with by day and fought monsters with by night. He became Steve; the guy you were totally hung up on; and not just because he was a total babe, but because he had this heart of gold that he didn’t boast about, and yet it shined clear as day based on his actions for you, your sister, and the rest of the party.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Steve’s currently on babysitting duty with you once again.

The two of you were watching over your sister, Lucas and Dustin while Nancy and Robin tried to figure out more about this freaky Victor Creel man, and the demon that had tormented his family years ago.

Your eyes trail over Steve, who was watching your sister like a hawk; never letting her leave his sight. His jaw was tense, a muscle there popping just slightly, brows drawn in as he watched her furiously writing at the desk across the Wheeler’s basement.

You were sitting on the couch, squished between Steve and Dustin. Your right leg and arm pressed against Steve’s left. Your heart hadn’t slowed down since he had patted the spot next to you, inviting you to take a seat by him.

You weren’t sure if Steve was making it his mission to completely invaded your personal space with the way he kept leaning into you, but you could get used to the feel of his body against yours.

You couldn’t help it when you started taking advantage of looking at his side profile, as his eyes weren’t on you. You may be good at keeping your infatuation with him a secret, but it didn’t stop you from watching him whenever you had the chance to.

You were lost in gazing at the smattering of freckles creeping up from out of the collar of his shirt and up his neck. Your eyes continued to trace the lingering few of them that reached his face. You so badly wanted to brush each of them with the tips of your fingers and lips.

You were fascinated by the length of his eyelashes at this angle, watched as they fluttered each time he blinked. You move your eyes to the slight stubble above his upper lip, his perfectly kissable plush lips that you so badly wanted a taste of.

You loved watching how protective Steve got of the kids when danger was around the corner, but you especially loved watching his concern for your sister. It tugged at your heart strings, knowing that someone other than yourself had her back without argument.

“I know you guys are staring at me,” Max suddenly shares, shoulders tensing up. It quickly snaps you back into reality that you had just been gawking at Steve.

You force your eyes away from him, not wanting to be caught by the boys or Steve himself, cheeks flooding with heat. You let out a brief hum of noise, pretending like you had just been caught staring at Max like the rest of them.

“What sorry-,” Steve replies, grabbing the stress ball off the small table in front of you and tosses it up in the air. It causes the muscle in his right arm to flex, his tongue poking out in concentration.

Your brain nearly short circuits, and you try to pretend like you were busy looking along at the book that Dustin had grabbed when Max interrupted the staring fest the boys were indeed having.

“You said you needed something,” Lucas tries to play it cool.

“Just hanging out,” Steve says, and you plead with the universe to make him stop throwing that damn ball into the air so you’re not tempted to watch him.

“How you think your eyes boring into the back of my head is protecting me from Vecna, I don’t know,” Max sighs, standing up, stacking a bunch of envelopes in her hands. You continue to pretend to be interested in the book while she starts walking towards the group of you.

“You can look at me now,” Max stops, and sighs in slight annoyance at how obvious you all are.

“Thank you,” Dustin mumbles quietly.

“Sorry-” Lucas and Steve reply, and Steve thankfully drops the ball back on the table.

“Max, what are you holding?” You ask her cautiously. You’re worried about her. She’s been coiled in on herself, like a spring ready to snap at any and all times, refusing to let any of you in.

You can see her clench her teeth, but she loses her resolve. Passing out an envelope to each of you on the couch. You stare at the letter with your name printed on it in disbelief, already realizing that it’s a goodbye.

You also realize it’s an extremely inappropriate time for your heart to tighten at the fact that Steve received a letter from her too; finally understanding that Max loved Steve like a brother despite her frequent smart ass quips to the man.

“Oh, and um, give these to Mike, El, and Will. If you can ever get a hold of them again,” She passes the rest of the letters to Lucas.

Steve and Dustin start to open up their envelopes, but yours is now crushed tightly in your hand. Head spinning over the fact that your sister thinks she’s not going to make it out of this.

“Hey, what are you doing? No don’t, that’s not for now. Don’t open it now!” Max snaps at them.

“Don’t- okay,” Dustin starts, “I’m sorry, what is this?” He finally gets out.

“Yeah Max, what is this?” You echo, voice hard, eyes narrowing at her. Steve turns his attention towards you at the change in your tone, eyes flitting back and forth between you and Max.

“It’s, um, it’s a fail safe for after. If things don’t work out,” She shrugs it off, like she hadn’t just admitted she has accepted her death. Your mouth drops open at her words, standing up from the couch to talk some sense into her.

“Wait, whoa Max things are going to work out-,” Lucas starts to plead with her.

“No! I don’t need you to reassure me and tell me it’s all gonna work out, because people have been telling me that my entire life and it’s almost never true,” She bites out, her eyes move to meet yours, her expression turning angry.

“It's never true,” She spits out at you, and you swallow hard, throat constricting at her bitter words.

Your relationship with her hadn’t been the same since Billy died. You knew she blamed herself, despite how many times you tried to convince her it wasn’t her fault.

She wasn’t the same girl anymore. No longer did she run into your room, giggling about something dorky Lucas had said to her. No longer did she ask you to braid her hair or paint her nails or watch a movie with her. No longer did she sit and talk with you for hours about anything and everything, now preferring her walkman and headphones over her older sister.

It sucked. It felt like losing your best friend, because as much as she was your sassy little sister, she was the one person you loved more than life itself.

You can remember holding her in your arms when she was born, and as you grew together, you swore you’d always shield her from the harshness of the world.

“Max,” You start, and fold your arms together, trying not to seem as upset as you are, “You’re not alone in this. We are going to come up with a plan to protect you. I don’t know how, but we will figure something out.”

Your words don’t soothe her. You didn’t really expect them too, considering she had just basically told you that your words of encouragement in the past had never meant anything to her.

“You’re always trying to protect me, but guess what? You can’t. Not this time,” Max shakes her head, her irritation growing by the second.

She’s nearly seething at this point, and you haven’t seen her this upset since she used to make her gaming name Mad Max; nicknaming herself after all the anger stored in her heart from the shitty cards life had thrown at the both of you.

Max says the cruel words before thinking, “Maybe if you weren’t so busy staring at Steve all the damn time because of your stupid schoolgirl crush on him, you’d realize I’m grown up now. I don’t believe in fairytale bullshit like you. I don’t need you to pretend to be strong for me when I know you’re not!”

Your eyes grow wide at her throwing what you thought was a secret in your face. Of course you had been naive enough to believe that she didn’t know you were into Steve. Just because she didn’t say anything, didn’t mean she didn’t notice it.

Not only had she just revealed that very private information in front of him, but she’d also just insulted your whole personality. You grit your teeth together, trying not to yell back at her, because as much as you wanted to explode on her for being a selfish brat right now, you knew that she was in so much pain mentally.

Steve watches you now, his lips parted incredulously at Max’s words about you liking him. He watches as the blow lands hard. He watches as the tears start gathering in your eyes at your sister’s sharp words.

The basement was suddenly suffocating, as you felt everyone’s eyes on you. You refused to look at Steve, worried about his reaction. You didn’t want to look at him and see him pitying you.

You needed air. You needed to get out of this situation. So you give her a short, curt nod, and then bolt up the stairs.

Steve immediately stands up, ready to follow you. Before he does, he puts his hands on his hips and gives a pointed look at Max.

“That’s,” Steve starts, shakes his head, then sighs, “That wasn’t cool, Max,” He says softly to the girl, who already had regret written all over her face.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You don’t know where to go. You didn’t visit the Wheeler’s house very often, but you knew Ted and Karen were still home with Holly somewhere, not inclined to leave the house due to the fact that they believe a serial killer on the loose in Hawkins.

You also didn’t want to get stuck having a conversation with Mrs. Wheeler, though she really was lovely.

You just couldn’t handle her bubbly persona right now when you felt like your heart had just been ripped out of your chest and stomped on by your sister.

You decide to slip out the front door before anyone sees you. You don’t want to go too far, considering how even though you were beyond pissed and hurt by what Max had said, she was still doomed by Vecna, and you should be close enough to get to her if needed.

You catch sight of Steve’s burgundy BMW parked on the street by the mailbox. You walk over to it and try the passenger door where you’ve found yourself sitting in the last couple of days because of everything going on. You pull, it’s locked; of course.

You carefully prop yourself up on the flat trunk of the car, feet resting on the lip of the bumper. You’re not too worried about Steve being upset with you over it, as you’ve seen him sit here himself quite a bit; typically when the group is trying to make a plan and decide who’s doing what.

Your head falls into your hands, finally letting the tears flow freely now that you are alone.

You were extremely embarrassed at the fact that Steve had just heard that you watched him like an absolute weirdo.

It was awful knowing that he now knew you had a crush on him, when he so clearly wasn’t into you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Unbeknownst to you, Steve had already made his way up the basement stairs, did a quick check of the main floor of the house, before realizing you must be outside.

He glanced briefly out the back, then the front and his heart jumped to his throat when he saw you perched on his Beamer.

He’s nervous as hell to go talk to you. No one but Robin and Dustin knew it, but Steve was absolutely captivated by you.

He had been for a long time now, but never had the courage to bring it up to you. Dustin loved to tease him about it, purposefully bringing up Robin in front of you, trying to pressure Steve into just being honest with you.

You sort of intimidated him; you were this strong, capable, independent woman who protected the people she loved without fail or question. He was completely enchanted by it, but he wasn’t sure if he’d measure up to you.

He didn’t think he was in the same league as you, let alone have a shot with you. He hadn’t been great at talking to girls in a while, and he didn’t want to totally screw things up with you by making a fool of himself.

He had been pretending for so long that you weren’t the girl of his dreams, but after hearing what Max had said about you being into him, he knew he needed to make a move before it was too late.

He slips out the front door of the house, briskly walking up the driveway to meet you at his car. You don’t notice him approaching because your head is still in your hands.

When he gets closer, he can hear the tell tale sign of crying by the sniffling noises you're making, shoulders shaking gently. His heart breaks over seeing you in such a state.

He’s not sure how to approach you without scaring you off, so he reaches out to your arm, fingers gently grazing over your warm skin.

“Hey,” He whispers hesitantly to you, trying to get you to look up at him.

You go still at the sound of Steve’s voice and touch, groaning inside of your head. You couldn’t catch a break could you?

You want to stay hidden in your hands, but know you need to put your big girl pants on and face what’s surely about to be the most awkward interaction you’ve ever had with him.

“Hi,” You whisper back, head lifting from your hands, quickly wiping the tears off your face. You tuck your hair behind your ears and lean back to see Steve gazing at you already.

He’s got this funny look on him. One you haven’t seen before, and it scares you that you don’t know what he’s thinking about. If you didn’t know him, you’d call it adoration, but surely that’s not the case.

“Um, can I-?” Steve doesn’t finish his sentence, but he raises his hand towards your face making your eyes go wide. You give him a slight nod, not sure what he means.

When he gently curls a piece of your hair back behind your ear that you must’ve missed just moments before, you feel the tips of your cheeks burning.

He then trails that same hand to your chin, swiping away at some of the left behind moisture you had missed. He lets his hand linger there for a moment.

“I’m sorry,” You blurt out before you can help yourself, being around him like this starts up the word vomit, “I’m sorry, about what Max said about you. It was stupid, I think she was just talking in the heat of the moment and not realizing what she was saying. I’m so sor-” Steve gently quiets you with his thumb brushing across your rambling lips.

God, what is this man doing to you?

“Is it true?” He asks quietly, leaning towards you now. It’s like magnets being drawn towards one another. His feet are planted so close to you that the tips of your knees are brushing his thighs.

“Is what true?” You ask shyly, dropping your eyes to his lips and promptly lose concentration when his tongue darts out in a quick press to wet them.

When you flick your eyes back up to meet his, you notice his are already trained on your own lips. You swallow harshly, and think you might have to pinch yourself to make sure you’re awake right now.

He’s never been this close to you before, and it’s kicking up a wild storm of butterflies in your stomach. He’s still got one hand stroking your face, and he moves the other one to drop on your hip. His hand is heavy and holds you firmly.

You involuntarily let out a little whimper at the contact, making Steve grin cockily at you. It’s the signal he needed to gain his self confidence back, nerves he was feeling before disappearing.

He needed to make sure that he didn’t leave this conversation without officially making you his.

“Oh, I like that noise coming from your lips, honey,” He playfully tells you, stepping even closer.

His leg nudges one of yours, and he settles himself fully in between your legs. Your lips part, gasping at the movement.

What in the world is happening right now? Had you somehow died and gone to Heaven without realizing it? Surely you had because the feeling of Steve’s legs between your own was devastating.

“You still haven’t answered my question, angel. I think you know what I’m talking about; is it true?” Steve repeats himself.

You stare at him, at a loss for words. Your seconds away from throwing yourself at him.

Steve waits patiently for your response, but figures he knows how to get you talking. Since you hadn’t shown him any resistance, he presses a kiss to the underside of your jaw, right below your ear.

Your eyes shut at the contact, another soft noise being pulled from you that you didn’t even realize you could make.

“Does it matter?” You stutter out, feeling like you're about to run out of oxygen.

“Why wouldn’t it, angel?” He says that damn pet name again, causing your head to swim.

Your hand reaches out to the blue bomber jacket he’s wearing, grasping onto the material to try to ground yourself in reality despite this unbelievable situation you’ve found yourself in with him.

“Because, you’re in love with Robin aren’t you?” You decide to bite the bullet and just tell him, and Steve reacts like you’ve just dumped a bucket of ice cold water over his head.

He rears back from you, eyes wide in disbelief. It would almost be comical if you weren’t waiting on an answer that could absolutely shatter you right now; if he were to say yes.

He’s gaping at you, clearly not having expected you to say that.

“W-what?!” He yelps out, squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head before continuing, “Is that a joke? Did someone tell you that?”

“No one had to tell me, Steve. It’s not a joke either. It’s pretty clear you love her,” You shrug your shoulders half heartedly.

He’s still looking at you like you’ve just opened your mouth and started to speak to him in a foreign language. He tilts his head, lips pursing, mouth opening and shutting, trying to find the right words to say.

“Okay. Okay, sure, I love Robin as a friend, but I’m not in love with her,” Steve replies, still in a state of shock at what you’ve told him.

His eyebrows are furrowed a bit, creating a small dent in the skin in the middle of them. You desperately want to reach out and smooth it over, but you’re still uncertain about where you stand with him, about what’s happening between the two of you right now.

“I can see you’re still silently debating inside that pretty little head of yours, aren’t you? Can I prove it to you?” Steve questions when he sees you're still feeling doubtful.

“Please,” You manage to choke out.

Steve doesn’t hesitate, he presses another kiss to the spot below your ear, before trailing his lips down your jawline. He’s taking his time, ravishing you with his mouth.

You tighten your hand that’s resting against his chest, fingers still curled around the fabric of his jacket. Your other hand moves to rest at the back of his neck, playing with the tufts of hair that sit there.

Steve’s lips continue down to your neck. When he reaches your exposed collarbone, he gently nips at it, causing you to tug him closer to you, if that’s even possible. His tongue presses against the skin that he just bit, and you swear you see stars.

He makes his way back up the other side of your neck that he hasn’t touched yet, then drags his nose up your jaw and finally his mouth is just inches from yours.

He presses his lips to the corner of your mouth, teasing you, before parting his lips, still hovering above yours.

“Just kiss me already, Harrington,” You whine, tipping your head closer to him, and he laughs breathily against you.

“My needy girl, you’ve been so patient haven’t you?” He quips, and before you can snap at him to stop toying with you, he finally presses his mouth to yours in a greedy kiss.

His pink lips are pressing against yours hungrily, both hands on your hips now, dragging you towards him so you become fully flush against him.

Steve knows what he’s doing, expertly swiping his tongue against your bottom lip, coaxing your mouth open so he can kiss you deeper. You’re completely gone, dizzy with want for him.

Your hand slips further into the hair at the base of his neck and you tug at the strands there the way you’ve wanted to for so long. Steve makes this irresistible noise from the back of his throat, causing him to break away for a moment.

You don’t let him get far though, eagerly pressing your lips to his again not willing to let him slip away from you yet. You grow braver at the sounds of desire coming from him, letting your tongue dip into his mouth when he gasps for air.

You could stay here with him forever, drowning in this growing need for each other, but the moment is ruined when you hear the Wheeler’s front door slam.

You and Steve jump apart, but still have a hold of one another, breathing hard, glancing to see who just came out of the house. It’s Dustin, hands on his hips like a disappointed parent.

“Hey lovebirds!” Dustin yells, “We’re giving you five more minutes to make out before you both need to get your asses back in here so we can ask you something.” He turns around to walk back into the house, closes the door behind him just as hard.

Your eyes trail to the front window, seeing Lucas and Max peeking at you and Steve from the living room window. You roll your eyes, but with no true malice, at the fact that they’re always trying to get into your business.

Your lighthearted mood starts to fade at seeing your sister, knowing that she’s the reason you had left the house in such a rush to begin with.

“That little shithead.” Steve huffs a harsh breath out.

“He’s totally gloating right now. Constantly bringing up Robin in front of you trying to - wait a second - he’s the reason you had that wild idea in your head, isn’t he? I’m gonna m-,” Steve breaks off when he turns his attention back to you.

He notices your deflated look, clearly not paying attention to what he’s saying, and thinking about the words Max had told you.

“Hey, look at me, sweetheart,” He urges you. When you do, he cups your face with both of his hands, holding you steady.

“What your sister said back there, about you believing in fairytale’s and not being strong? Don’t listen to that,” Steve starts, cutting to the chase, “She’s hurting right now. You know what they say about hurt people hurting people; not that it makes it okay.”

You bite your lip, nodding briefly, but your eyes well up with tears again at his words.

“I think it’s so, so attractive that you choose to believe in the good in this world. It doesn’t mean you're living in a fairytale, it just means you want a life that’s worth living, a life you deserve,” Steve says softly.

“And not strong?” He scoffs at the idea, “You’re the strongest person I know, having to deal with all the shit that you and Max have gone through. Despite it all, you continue to show up for her, take care of her, even when you're on the receiving side of her wrath,” He gives you that charming smile of his, trying to comfort you with his words, and you’re nearly blinded by his beauty.

“God, I’m obsessed with you, Steve,” You admit, bringing one of your own hands up to cup his jaw.

He closes his eyes at the touch and hums briefly, turns his lips to kiss the palm of your hand, before letting his head rest against your touch.

“Are you,” You swallow, “You sure you’re not in love with Robin? Because that would really, really suck for me.”

“I’m standing here, between your knees. I just had the best kiss of my life, with you, and you’re still asking me if I’m sure that I’m not in love with Robin?” He chuckles, shakes his head, and grabs your chin with his thumb and forefinger.

“Silly girl,” He chides you, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips this time around. Then his face grows serious, making sure you’re looking into his eyes before the next words come from his mouth.

“I promise you, I don’t feel that way about Robin. I can’t explain it to you, it’s not for me to share. But one day, I think Robin will tell you why it won’t ever be like that between me and her,” Steve tells you softly, eyes begging you to believe him.

You don’t really understand what he means, but you trust him, and you trust Robin, so you decide it’s enough and the last of your hesitancy dissolves

“If I knew you were gonna kiss me like that, I never would have pretended to not be carrying a torch for you. This feels so much better than pretending like I haven’t wanted you this whole time.” You laugh quietly.

Taking him in freely like this, without it needing to be a secret feels almost like love, it must be love you think; though you know you’re not quite ready to say that just yet.

“I’d say can’t you see I’ve been waiting here for you the whole time, but I’m a pretty good pretender too,” Steve shares with you.

“I’ve always wanted you, I want this, if you’ll have me,” Steve says, starting to feel love sick on you.

You answer him with another kiss, and before the two of you can get lost in one another again, there’s a clearing of someone's throat. You pull away reluctantly, and see Max standing there.

She looks uncomfortable, probably because of the position you and Steve are in against his car. He turns his head over his shoulder to see her there, and pulls away from you.

He grabs your hand to help you hop down off the car, hand sliding to your lower back to brush off the top of your jeans. Hand briefly gliding over your ass mischievously under the guise of getting the dirt off you.

“I guess our five minutes are up,” You joke, as you watch Dustin and Lucas walking up the driveway towards you.

“We’ll give you a moment,” Steve says, pressing a kiss to your temple, releasing you to usher the two boys back inside before they cause chaos.

You wait silently for Max to say something to you. She doesn’t, instead choosing to inch her way forward, before slipping her arms around you. You melt into her hug, never able to stay mad at her for too long, arms holding her tight.

“I shouldn’t have said those mean things to you. They weren’t true. It just that I’m-,” Max apologizes, and you fill in the blank for her.

“Scared?” You ask gently. She sighs, nodding against you.

“I just, I know you want to protect me. You always have. Physically or emotionally, you’ve done it since we were kids, but this feels heavier. Like the stakes are higher, and I don’t want you getting hurt. I can’t lose you,” Max confesses.

“Oh, Max,” You don’t know how to reply, knowing she’s right. The stakes do feel higher this time around, and there’s a good chance someone may not make it out of this.

“I can’t tell you the outcome of this. But I promise, no matter what happens, I’m going to be there for you. I meant it when I said you’re not alone in this,” You say after a beat of quiet. She nods silently again, holding you for just a bit longer.

“So, Steve?” She asks you once she’s pulled back, a smile forming on her face.

You roll your eyes and go to playfully pinch her cheek like you used to when she was younger. She swats your hand away from her, “I mean it looked like he was trying to swallow you whole.”

You laugh at her words, “Well I guess I have you to thank for that. You ratted out my secret! Luckily for me and you both, it turns out he feels the same way. What if he hadn’t? And how did you even know that I liked him like that?”

“You clearly don’t see the way Steve has a staring problem for you, just like you have for him. Besides, sisters always know,” She shrugs.

“So like how I know you obviously want Lucas back?” You tease, and a rare blush starts to form on her neck, confirming your suspicions.

“Shut up!” She cries out, but you see the warmth in her eyes, “And speaking of, let’s go get the boys. We’re making Steve take us on a field trip. I’m not spending what could be my last hours on earth in the armpit that is Mike Wheeler’s basement,” She shudders at the thought.

You hate that that's even a possibility, but you take her hand firmly, reminding her that you’re there, and head back inside.

Steve’s already got his car keys ready to go in his hand, eyes lighting up when he spots you and Max coming back in, clearly having solved the issue.

“You better treat her right, Harrington. I know a good lawyer,” Max points at him sternly, and Steve just smirks at the threat.

“Wouldn’t surprise me, Mayfield,” He replies, and pulls you into his side, refusing to let you go now that he has you.

“Besides, you’ve got nothing to worry about. I’ve been waiting a long time for her. I wouldn't dream of screwing it up,” Steve gazes at you, about to lean in to kiss you and the teens around you immediately pretend to gag.

You giggle as Steve groans in annoyance, before leaning his head towards you, whispering, “After this shit show ends, I’m taking you on a proper date.”

The moment he had seen the slightly obnoxious bright blue and butter yellow signage, Steve’s eyes were instantly drawn to the red anchor that sat between the S and the A. It was near identical to the anchor that had appeared on his wrist at ten years old. It was then Steve realised he had been dead wrong, that he wasn’t meant to meet his soulmate on cruise at sea. He was going to meet his soulmate here—at the job where he made $3 an hour and where he was forced to wear a sailor uniform.

Steve spent his summer slinging ice cream for kids with sticky fingers, begrudgingly giving Erica Sinclair free samples and checking the wrist of almost every woman who walked into the ice cream parlour. Days slipped into weeks and yet—Steve never lost hope.

And so, when he first met you—Max’s older sister who had been dragged along to buy her sister ice cream—of course his eyes had shifted down in the hopes of seeing your wrist. But you had been wearing an abundance of bracelets and he couldn't see whether or not you had the mark.

Still, he held out hope anyway because you were pretty and he felt a warm, fluttering feeling in his stomach when he was near you. A feeling his mother had once told him that he would only feel when his soulmate was near.

But you gave nothing away—no indication that you felt that feeling too or that you even noticed his own soul mark.

Steve held out hope that one day he'd see it on your wrist.

And he did—at your step brother Billy's funeral.

He saw it only for a few, brief moments as the sleeve of your blouse dipped while you wiped away your tears. But it was there and it was undeniable—the anchor that was identical to his own etched into the skin on your wrist. 

Of course he didn't tell you then. You were grieving and it wasn't the right time. Still, he let you cry on his shoulder, he became a friend—just a friend—who was there when you needed him. He helped to get you a job at Family Video when you worried about your family's finances and he became your ride home from work. But still, Steve didn't tell you and it was eating him alive—being friend zoned by his own soulmate. He was just biding his time and maybe, just maybe, Steve Harrington was fucking terrified that you already knew and that there was a part of you that was disappointed that the universe had decided you belong together.

And so, Steve Harrington kept the fact that you were his soulmate to himself. For now.

Max Mayfield usually came along to Family Video with her skateboard tucked under one arm just before closing time. It had become routine for her over the past few months—skating after school and letting the hours slip by and then heading to the video store so Steve could give you both a lift back to the trailer park. It had been a routine ever since you had scolded her for skating home late at night. She had huffed at the time, called you paranoid but still—she showed up to the video store after every skate boarding session and got into Steve’s beamer with no complaint.

Whenever Max would walk into the video store, she would always head straight for the horror section. You had told her, perhaps a hundred times, that there was no way you were going to let her rent The Slumber Party Massacre or Friday the 13th but still—Max just gravitated towards it.

The sound of Cloudbusting by Kate Bush blared through her headphones. Max hummed the words under her breath as she picked up a tape for The Evil Dead, flipping it over to read the back.

“You know your sister isn’t going to let you rent that, right?”

Max only just hears Steve’s voice over her music. She rolls her eyes and doesn’t put the tape away.

“Whatever Harrington," Max replied with a small huff, pulling her headphones down to rest around her neck before casting a quick glance over at Steve who was restocking a nearby shelf. “I can still look, can’t I? Or is that illegal now?”

Steve opens his mouth to reply but honestly—trying to outwit Max Mayfield was something he simply could not do eight hours into his shift.

“Why don’t you check out the more age appropriate films?” He asks, glancing over to the front counter where you were going through the end of shift returns box while Robin talked your ear off about her most recent Vickie update.

“Like what?” Max asked, uninterested. “Annie?”

Steve very nearly laughed but managed to stop himself, pursuing his lips as he placed My Bloody Valentine back onto the shelf.

“Funny,” Steve murmurs, lips twitching slightly as he looks down at Max. “No, I was thinking something more like… The Goonies or—”

“You sound like just my sister,” Max mutters, her blue eyes bright as they flicker over to Steve with a mischievous look on her face. “No wonder you two are soulmates.”

The tapes Steve had been holding all clatter to the floor. Both you and Robin look over at the noise while Max didn’t even bother to hide her amusement.

“Are you good over there, Stevie?” Robin calls out to Steve as he scrambles to pick up all of the tapes he had just dropped, his face burning an impressive shade of red. You meanwhile were looking over at Max in surprise, having only just realised that your sister was in the store.

“Yeah! Sorry—butter fingers!” Steve calls back as he shoots Max a look that plainly says ‘shut up’.

Max sends you a quick smile in acknowledgement before turning to look back at Steve who was now blushing a shade of red that Max did not know he was even capable of turning.

“How did you—”

“—oh, come on Steve,” Max huffs, though Steve can’t help but notice how she speaks in a low voice, eyes flickering back over to you as though making sure you couldn’t hear. “I’m not an idiot, you have the same soulmarks—”

“—I never said you were an idiot,” Steve says quickly as he shoves the last tape back onto the shelf before turning to look at Max fully. “And that’s just a coincidence—” 

“—you have an anchor. She has an anchor in the exact same place. You met at Scoops—none of that is coincidence.”

Steve opens his mouth to respond and then quickly closes it again because she was right. When it came to soulmates, there was no such thing as coincidences.

“Plus you act all…pathetic when you’re around her.”

Steve's ears turned red, almost perfectly matching the shade that his cheeks had turned.

“I do not—”

“—you do,” Max tells him with a faint smile. “Really pathetic, actually.”

Steve huffs in response and once again, his eyes shift over to you—mostly so he could make sure you weren’t listening to his conversation with your sister but also because you looked ridiculously pretty. You always did but today you’d done something different with your hair and—

“Exhibit A,” Max says, clicking her fingers directly in his face to snap him out of whatever trance you had unknowingly sent him into. “Staring at her like a lovesick puppy.”

“Well she is my soulmate,” Steve says, his heart thumping in his chest because it was the first—the very first time—he had said those words out loud because he hadn’t told anyone. Not even Robin (though, admittedly that was because Robin had an inability to keep a secret due to the fact she had a tendency to ramble when nervous).

“Surprised you worked it out,” Max says under her breath.

Steve has to force himself to take a deep breath, having to remind himself that Max was going through a lot. Between witnessing Billy’s death, your stepdad leaving, the move to the trailer park and a breakup with her own soulmate, it was no wonder she was a little more brash than usual.

“Yeah well, your sister doesn’t seem particularly fussed about having me as a soulmate,” Steve says finally, looking away from Max and instead looking at the tape still clutched in her hand. “Probably realised it was me and—”

“—it’s not you,” Max interrupts him quickly in a tone so surprisingly soft that he looks back at her. “Trust me she’s just—she’s just skeptical, she doesn’t really—”

“—believe in soulmates?” Steve finishes, jaw tightening because he had always had a feeling that you didn’t by the way your mark was always covered or the way you couldn’t even pretend to be interested when a soul couple would come into the store and share their story.

Steve had never hoped before that he was wrong but as he waited for Max to respond, he prayed he was. But when she says nothing in response—he knew he was right and the feeling that began to burn in his gut could have killed him.

Max, perhaps noticing the heartache written all over his face, quickly adds, “It—it’s a long story but if you talk to her—”

“—no,” Steve says quickly, shaking his head and pulling himself together in the blink of an eye. “I’m not going to make her do something she clearly doesn’t want to do.”

Max’s expression changes, she looks slightly panicked and shakes her head. “No Steve, you don’t understand—”

“—you should put the tape away,” Steve tells her, nodding towards The Evil Dead tape that Max was still holding. “Before your sister sees.”

And with that, Steve heads towards the stock room before Max could see the way his hands were shaking.

You couldn’t help but notice the distance that Steve Harrington had carefully placed between the two of you.

He still gave you a ride home from work, still laughed along with you and Robin at work, still showed up to the trailer unannounced with a bag full of groceries for your mom. But Steve no longer lingered, he stopped calling to tell you about whatever story you had missed from your day off at the video store, he stopped giving you those one armed hugs before he went on his lunch break that had become part of your routine. You were beginning to feel his absence like it was a physical ache.

And so, you sit in the passenger seat of Steve’s beamer after a shift at Family Video and two weeks of distance wondering whether or not to ask Steve if you had done something wrong.

Perhaps your nerves were a little too obvious because barely two minutes into the car journey, Steve was looking over at you.

“You gonna stop bouncing your leg like that?” He asks. “It’s distracting.”

“Sorry,” you mutter quickly, eyes fixed determinedly on the road ahead as you place your hands on your knees to try and stop them from moving.

It’s quiet then—aside from the gentle hum of the radio, Time After Time filling the silence between you and Steve. 

“You okay?” He asks suddenly, shooting you a hesitant glance before focusing back on the road. “You’re a little quiet.”

You chew your bottom lip between your teeth as you consider your reply. You could be honest with him—you could tell him that you were worried that you had done something wrong, that you had felt the distance Steve had put between you. How that distance had started to feel like a chasm and you didn’t know what to do.

Or you could lie. 

You choose the latter.

“Long shift,” you say finally with an attempt at a smile.

It was a lie and you both knew it. 

But Steve doesn’t press you further. That somehow hurt more than the distance. 

Your leg begins to bounce before you could stop it. Steve glances at you again.

“You’re doing it again—”

“—did I do something wrong?” You burst out suddenly, the feelings in your gut swirling in a dangerous storm.

Steve’s eyes remain on the road but you see the way his face blanches ever so slightly. “Wrong?” He repeats in a voice of forced composure. “Why would you think—”

“—because y-you’re different, Steve,” you say finally, your heart racing as you turn to look at him fully. “You don’t—you’re treating me differently and I just—I’m trying to understand what on earth I did wrong.”

“You didn’t—”

“—then why won’t you look at me, Steve?”

You can feel the anger beneath your words, a tone that surprised even you. But still, Steve doesn’t say anything and you simply watch as his jaw tightens, as his knuckles gripping onto the steering wheel turn white.

“Because I’m driving, Mayfield.”

You feel cold at the use of your surname. In all the time you had known Steve, he had never called you by your last name. It felt cold and distant and it made something in your gut turn uncomfortably.

“Pull over,” you say suddenly.

“What?”

“I said pull over.”

“Are you insane? I’m not—”

“Pull over, Harrington or I swear to god that I’ll open the door and—”

“Alright!” Steve snaps back, his clipped tone matching your own as he signals before he pulls over into the side of the road. “I’m pulling over, happy?”

You wait until Steve’s car is stationary before you decide to answer him. “Ecstatic.”

And then—without another word, you rip open the passenger side door and climb out of his car without another word.

You make it perhaps ten feet up the road before you hear Steve calling after you.

“Where are you going? Mayfield! Have you lost your damn mind?—”

“—Mayfield?” You repeat, anger flaring as you turn around to face Steve, only to find him barely two feet away from you. You try not to think about the way your stomach turns at that. “Since when do you call me Mayfield, Steve?”

Steve blinks, seeming to realise his misstep as he rubs a hand over his face in frustration.

“I—I don’t know, I just—”

“—can you just tell me what I’ve done wrong? If I’ve pissed you off or annoyed you or—”

“—you haven’t,” Steve says too quickly. “I’m just—”

“—you’re just calling me Mayfield and avoiding me like the plague?”

“I’m not avoiding you, I just—”

“—you’re just, what, Steve?”

“I’m just upset, okay?” Steve exclaims angrily, and the exhaustion in his voice silences you.

You blink, your eyes flickering over his face as you try and understand his anger.

“Upset?” You repeat, confused, hurt and everything in between. “Why are you—”

“Because I can’t be around you anymore!” He snaps, your name cracking at the end of his sentence like a whip.

Your blood starts to run cold. The skin on your left wrist itches. 

“Why?” You ask, your shoulders slumping slightly as you look at him, feeling something inside of you break a little.

Steve looks as though he was bracing himself, scrubbing another hand over his face before he takes a deep breath and looks at you properly this time.

“I can’t—I can’t be around you because—I know. I know you’re my soulmate.”

The air in your lungs disappears. The words seem to echo around you as you try to digest exactly what Steve had just said. And your eyes, your traitorous eyes, move down to the exposed skin of his wrist where the anchor identical to yours was etched into his skin.

“How did you—”

“—I saw it. At Billy’s funeral.”

You let out a breath you didn’t realise you had been holding, glancing down to the wrist you had kept covered for years. The mark you had tried to ignore since you were thirteen years old.

“Steve, I—”

“You knew, right?” Steve asks, taking a single step towards you as his eyes hold you captive. “You knew—you knew I was your soulmate, didn’t you?”

You had the urge to lie, to tell Steve that no, you had no idea. But one look in those big, brown eyes and you knew you couldn’t.

You give a small, barely there nod.

“Yeah,” you say quietly. “I knew the day I first met you at Scoops.”

Something in Steve’s expression cracks—a mix of hurt and betrayal that words couldn’t quite explain.

“Then why—why didn’t you say anything?” He asks you, your name falling from his lips at the end of his question like it had always belonged there. “I mean—we’re soulmates and you didn’t say anything.”

You look away for a brief moment, a sense of shame mixing with that fluttering, warm feeling in your gut you had always felt around Steve. The feeling you had tried so hard to ignore. 

“Is it me?” He asks you, taking another hesitant step closer to you. You can see the hurt, the desperation in his eyes as he watches you. “Were you—were you that disappointed that it was me who was your—”

“—no!” You say quickly, your throat thick with emotion. “God, no. Of course I wasn’t disappointed. I mean, you—you’re—you’re great. Amazing, actually.”

Steve’s expression softens slightly, eyes slightly glassy as he looks at you. “Then why didn’t you say anything? Is it because you don’t believe in soulmates?”

You flex your fingers before you dig your nails into the skin of your palms, your breathing starts to feel uneven. 

“It’s not that I don’t believe in them,” you say finally, swallowing a lump in your throat as you force yourself to look at Steve. “I ju—just—I’m scared.”

“Scared?” Steve asks, perplexed as his eyes flit down to watch the way your nails bite into your skin. His own hands twitch as though he was desperate to reach for you. “Why would you be scared?”

You want to look away, you almost do but something in Steve’s eyes keeps you there.

“Becuase my mom met her soulmate when she was young too,” you tell him in an uneven voice. “And he—something really bad happened to him.”

You don’t elaborate and Steve doesn’t press you further, but you don’t miss the way he looks at you with softer eyes.

“Then she met my dad who hadn’t ever met his soulmate and they fell in love and things were great for a long time. She had me, then she had Max. And we were happy. But then he met his soulmate—some random woman in a grocery store while me and Max were standing right there. And things just—things fell apart pretty quickly after that. My mom met Neil and she—she was never the same. All because she was trying to fill a hole that couldn’t be filled—her soulmate dying. The person she was meant to have forever with only being in her life for two years. Even in the years with my dad that were good, I could tell she—she was looking at my dad and seeing something else, seeing somebody else. An—and when you know what someone goes through when they lose their soulmate—I just—I don’t want to go through that.”

You hadn’t realised that tears had started falling before it was too late, your voice breaking and traitorous tears beginning to slip down your cheeks.

“Baby,” the word falls so naturally from Steve’s lips that it makes your heart feel lighter. A small sob escapes you before you could stop it and Steve doesn’t hesitate this time in taking another step closer, lifting his own hand to wipe away your tears so gently it very nearly took your breath away. “You don’t—you’re not gonna lose me—”

“—you can’t promise that, Steve,” you say, fighting the urge to push him away from you—because the place where his skin was touching yours felt hot enough to burn. “You—I've seen you. You throw yourself into danger without a care in the world! You act as though you’re disposable and I ca—can’t watch it happen, Steve, I can’t—”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Steve hushes you softly, two large hands cupping your cheeks gently and rendering you powerless to his touch. “I know, okay? I can’t promise that—that something bad might not happen to me. Or to you. Or to both of us. Okay? I know that. But—but you’re my other half and no matter how much time we have together, whether it’s seventy years or seventy days, I promise you that I’m in, one hundred per cent.”

“If you need time or space. I’ll give it to you. I swear. But I’m not going to let you throw this away because you’re scared. Baby, I’m scared too. But that doesn’t mean that I’m not going to give this everything I got because—what if we do get seventy years? What if we get seventy great years? You really gonna throw all that away because you’re scared?”

You swallow and you try to look away from him, his words too intense but Steve doesn’t let you—his hands keeping your head gently between palms.

“But what if—”

“—if we don’t get them then what we do get will be beautiful anyway,” Steve tells you in a voice so fierce yet so certain, you found yourself unable to look away from him even if you wanted to. “I can’t promise you a lot, but I can promise you that.”

The fear still lingered in your gut—the place it had lived since you had first walked into Scoops Ahoy! to see your soulmate in a sailor uniform. The fear that kept you up at night, that imagined over and over again what those Russians had done to Steve to leave his face and body black and blue. The fear that kept those bracelets covering your soulmark for years.

But alongside that fear was that feeling that you had never been able to shake—that warm, fluttering feeling whenever Steve was near. The one that made you realise that home wasn’t a place, that it wasn’t Hawkins nor was it California—that home was Steve Harrington.

And in the end, it was that feeling that won.

Your hands move without you thinking too much about it, fisting the front of his vest as you tug him closer. And when your lips met his, it was like two pieces of a puzzle slotting together, like the sea kissing the shore, like everything had finally fallen into place.

Steve’s hands find their way into your hair as he kisses you back with lips so smooth that you couldn’t think straight. Everything else had ceased to exist and all that remained Steve and his lips on yours, You barely even register that you were kissing Steve Harrington on the side of the road—that cars were driving by and honking at the two of you as his other hand rested on your waist to pull you even closer.

It was only when you felt droplets of rain beginning to fall that you finally pulled away from each other.

“Is it really starting to rain?” You ask, laughing as you look up to feel the rain falling onto your skin like a million tiny kisses. “Right now?”

Steve smiles, watching the smile break out onto your face as the rain starts to fall even harder. His fingers gently wrap around your left wrist, tugging down your bracelets to expose your soulmark before lifting it up to press a gentle kiss to the anchor that lived on your skin, the mark glowing golden beneath his lips.

“There’s no such thing as coincidence when it comes to soulmates,” Steve mutters against your skin.

“Maybe you’re right,” you whisper back softly with a faint smile. “Now should we get out of the rain?”

Steve hums, considering your question as he looks back at you. “Maybe just after—”And then before you could even breathe, his lips were back on yours. You let out a gasp of surprise and the rain fell even harder around you, but you didn’t pull away. Because this was right where you and Steve were always meant to be.

dividers by @suupersonic

support dividers by @saradika-graphics

line dividers by @omi-resources

.✦ ݁˖ rec account: @moonstone-recommends .✦ ݁˖

you've just started wondering why you accepted the invitation. instead, you could be sharing a movie night with max, cozy on your couch right now. you wonder if she’s already in bed like you told her to be when someone interrupts your thoughts. “you look thrilled,” talia says, sliding up beside you.

“having the time of my life.” you tip the glass back and finish it in one go anyway.

she rolls her eyes and steals a handful of chips. for a while, it’s fine, bearable. some sarcastic comments about other people’s clothes, a list of the things she bought during her time away. and you couldn’t feel more uncomfortable.

it’s not that you’ve never felt that way before. it was familiar, but it wasn’t jealousy. you just wished your biggest problem was deciding which pair of brand-new shoes to wear instead of worrying about whether you’d be able to get out of bed tomorrow.

you hear them talking but don’t really pay attention, the drink starting to hit because suddenly you don’t feel the need to rub your bare arms. now you’re just awkwardly grabbing the edges of your dress because you’ve never worn something that short, but talia said it was the only thing in your closet that fit the occasion.

you were looking for him when the conversation shifted the way it always did, back to her. 

nancy’s name comes up. of course it does.

one of talia’s friends makes a comment about jonathan, and talia laughs, glancing your way with that sharp little smile. you don’t know if she’s drunk or if her mission tonight is to piss you off.

“well, it’s not exactly shocking. nancy has a habit of making things complicated.”

you tense and nudge her.

“what?” she shrugs. “i’m just saying.”

“no, you’re doing that thing again.” the words leave your lips before you can think.

“what thing?”

she turns to you.

you meet her eyes, your voice low but steady. “the thing where you blame everything on nancy.”

she doesn’t respond, so you continue.

“throwing it in my face every time her name comes up doesn’t make you a good friend, talia. your obsession with her is so fucking annoying.”

the words land heavier than you expected. a couple of people nearby go quiet and talia’s expression twists.

“come on.” indignation flashes across her face as if you’ve said the most unfair thing she’s ever heard.

then she hesitates, but finally says it, and you knew she would.

“jonathan practically threw your relationship away because of her.”

the room feels smaller. you stare at her, seeing something ugly flicker beneath the jokes, as if she really enjoys it.

“what? it’s true.” she says, searching for some sign of agreement.

you set your cup down slowly. “i think i’m leaving.”

she blinks. “over this? don’t be childish.”

“god, you really don’t get it, do you?” the words spill out, stumbling over each other. you shouldn’t have had those two drinks in a row. “because you’re a fucking horrible person when you want to be.” your throat tightens. “and i’m done.”

for once, she has nothing clever to say. the silence stretches. you turn and walk away before it can get worse.

you hesitate between heading for the entrance and leaving, or having another drink to try to ease the obnoxious feeling of guilt in your stomach. because even though you didn’t agree with most of what she said, you finally had a friend and pushed her away because you simply couldn’t stay silent.

so instead of leaving, you grab another drink. 

then…another. 

not enough to black out, but enough that the sharp edges of the night soften and the music feels less annoying.

when you’re about to drink from a glass you found on the armrest of a couch in the living room, a hand on your wrist stops you.

and of course it’s him.

as if he has a sixth sense that lets him appear at the most convenient moments.

but you wish he hadn’t seen you like this. especially not right now.

“whoa, leave that there,” he says, taking the plastic cup and setting it on a nearby table. “what are you doing?”

“just wanted something to drink.” you sway in place, fighting to keep your balance. 

“and it appeared magically.” he smiles after hearing that, you smile back. his expression shifts slightly as he takes a better look at you. he notices your dilated pupils, the redness of your cheeks, and your hair, messier than usual.

“well, i think the best option for you right now is water.” he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.

your smile fades, because you don’t notice how close he is until your hand brushes his.

you get so nervous that the words leave your mouth before you can stop them. 

and you feel embarrassed the second after.

“do you want to dance?!”

he looks at you, surprised, brows furrowing. but before he can say anything, you’re already dragging him toward where the music is louder.

the song is slower than you expected.

bodies move around you, but the space between you and steve shrinks until it feels dangerously small.

the warmth of him, the way he looks at you like the rest of the party has disappeared, makes it hard to remember why you were nervous in the first place. 

your entire body stills at the contact.

he starts to pull away, always so careful, like you’re something he’s afraid to break.

that carefulness undoes you more than anything else.

you sway together, closer now. his thumb brushes lightly against your side, sending heat spreading beneath your skin. your hand rests on his shoulder, then slides slowly to the back of his neck.

the tension builds in the small space between you, and suddenly he's standing close enough to make it hard to think about anything else. 

you find yourself relaxing into the steady pressure of his hand at your waist. when someone bumps into you from behind, his grip tightens just enough to keep you close. 

for a moment, the rest of the room fades into the background. 

but then the panic crashes in.

what were you doing?

what would people think?

what if someone got the wrong idea, or told jonathan?

and even if you let yourself feel…at least for once…

you already did this.

you trusted someone.

you loved someone.

and they left.

what if steve does the same?

what if you let yourself fall and he leaves like everyone else?

what if he saw all the parts of you that everyone else eventually got tired of? 

the old fear wraps tight around your chest: the ache of being temporary, the terror of feeling too much and losing it all anyway.

you pull back abruptly.

“i need some air.”

steve’s hand lingers for a second longer before he lets go, concern flashing across his face.

you push through the crowd without looking back.

the night outside is cool and quiet.

the fresh air feels good at first. then the cold makes you wrap your arms around yourself.

you make it halfway down the block before footsteps follow, and of course it’s him.

“you can go. i’m fine.”

“what happened?”

his voice twists something in your stomach. maybe guilt. he did nothing wrong, every mess between you somehow starts with you.

steve falls into step beside you, hands in his pockets.

“you shouldn’t walk home alone.”

“i’m fine.”

you stop in front of a mailbox without realizing it.

“you’re tipsy.”

“i’m not.”

“you almost walked into a mailbox.”

“it was in my way.”

he laughs softly, the sound warm and familiar, easing something tight in your chest.

“c’mon. i’ll drive you.”

you stop and look at him.

he looks somewhat wrecked, the faint bruise on his cheek, a strand of hair falling right across his forehead, his nose and lips red from the cold.

you look at the street, covered in a thin mist, then back at him.

“okay.”

—

in the car, the radio hums low.

the alcohol loosens your tongue just enough.

you turn to him, a lazy grin tugging at your mouth.

“so, you’re not going to tell me what happened back there?”

“nope.”

you press your lips into a line.

he smirks.

“is everything okay?”

“you know… you’re stupidly handsome but really annoying sometimes.”

you keep staring out the window as if you just said something completely casual.

steve glances over, cheeks flushing beneath the dashboard lights.

he smiles, looking almost helpless, like your words hit somewhere soft. 

“how many drinks did you have?”

“not enough, actually.” you fight to keep your eyes open. “you interrupted me.”

he doesn’t say anything and keeps glancing at you with a smile he can't quite hide. 

the silence that follows feels comfortable.

he wakes you up when you arrive and waits until you get out so he can guide you to the door.

at your doorstep, the porch light casts a soft glow.

he reaches into your jacket pocket for your keys.

there he is again, too close.

it’s starting to make you dizzy, and you can’t blame the drinks you’ve had. 

you step forward and hug him as if it’s the most normal thing in the world.

he wraps his arms around you easily, solid and warm.

you stay there longer than you should, close enough to feel the warmth of his breath. 

when you pull back slightly, your gaze drops to his mouth.

he leans in just a little.

you swallow slowly, eyes on his lips.

but then he pulls away gently. 

his hands rest on your arms. “not like this,” he says quietly, his voice rough around the edges.

he steps back.

something in your chest aches, and you clear your throat to speak. 

 “i—“ 

but the door opens behind you.

max stands there in pajamas, arms crossed, looking equal parts amused and maternal.

“hello? there are people trying to sleep here.”

you don’t even look at her.

“i waited for you, but i fell asleep on the couch,” she says, trying to get your attention.

“what?”

you turn your head toward max.

“is she ok?” she asks.

“she had a couple of drinks…”

“okay, can you come inside and stop dissociating? i’m freezing.”

you nod, still thinking about what just happened.

max leads you inside.

but before the door closes, you glance back at steve one last time.

he smiles, and some of the tension in your chest eases despite yourself. 

“night,” he says.

“night,” you murmur, letting max guide you inside.

the door clicks shut, and you rest your head against it, trying to untangle the mess inside your mind.

no matter how hard you try to think about anything else, your thoughts keep returning to the same person.

tag list

(An episode by episode fic, possibly with extra chapters. Hopefully I make it through them all.)

(Updates at least weekly!)

Steve x M!Reader Stories Masterlist

Season Two

Chapter One: MADMAX

Chapter Two: Trick or Treat, Freak

Chapter Three: The Pollywog

Chapter Four: Will the Wise

Chapter Five: Dig Dug

Chapter Six: The Spy

Chapter Seven: The Lost Sister

Chapter Eight: The Mind Flayer

Chapter Nine: The Gate

Season Three

Chapter One: Suzie, Do You Copy?

Chapter Two: The Mall Rats

Chapter Three: The Case of the Missing Lifeguard

Chapter Four: The Sauna Test

Chapter Five: The Flayed

Chapter Six: E Pluribus Unum

Chapter Seven: The Bite

Chapter Eight: The Battle of Starcourt

Season Four - Changes

Chapter One: The Hellfire Club

Chapter Two: Vecna’s Curse

Chapter Three: The Monster and the Superhero

Chapter Four: Dear Billy

Chapter Five: The Nina Project

Chapter Six: The Dive

Chapter Seven: The Massacre at Hawkins Lab

Chapter Eight: Papa

Chapter Nine: The Piggyback

Season Five - Synopsis

Chapter One: The Tower

Chapter Two: Do You Copy?

Chapter Three: The Junction

Chapter Four: The Wake Up

Chapter Five: The Final Battle

Steve POVs

The Skating Lesson

The Flower

Two Truths, One Lie

Just Friends

The Call

The Friend

Billy POVs

The Cut

Happy Birthday

Night Surfing

No Return

Skating Accident

The Cologne Part 1

The Cologne Part 2

Late Night

The Recovery

The Party POVs

Max - More Than Friends

El - More Than Friends

Max - The Kick Turn

Max - The Aftermath

The Letters

⭐︎ PROLOGUE (Monday, October 15th, 1984)

⭐︎ CHAPTER 1 - establishing relationships (Tuesday, October 16th, 1984)

⭐︎ CHAPTER 2 - first impressions

⭐︎ CHAPTER 3 - crossover

⭐︎ CHAPTER 4 - tensions and expectations (Saturday, October 27th, 1984)

⭐︎ CHAPTER 5 - party night

⭐︎ CHAPTER 6 - disguises for halloween (Saturday, November 3rd, 1984)

⭐︎ CHAPTER 7 - fight (Wednesday, November 7th, 1984)

⭐︎ CHAPTER 8 - family gathering

⭐︎ CHAPTER 9 - knight in shining armor (Monday, November 12th, 1984)

⭐︎ CHAPTER 10 - comfort group

⭐︎ CHAPTER 11 - changing the dynamics

⭐︎ CHAPTER 12 - sparkling eyes (Wednesday, November 21st, 1984)

⭐︎ CHAPTER 13 - teammates (Tuesday, November 27th, 1984)

⭐︎ CHAPTER 14 - sports and photos issues (Friday, December 07th, 1984)

⭐︎ CHAPTER 15 - warming up (Thursday, December 13th, 1984)

⭐︎ CHAPTER 16 - lucky star

⭐︎ CHAPTER 17 - a ride home

⭐︎ CHAPTER 18 - any space you want to be in and deserve to be in (Wednesday, December 19th, 1984)

⭐︎ CHAPTER 19 - we wish you a merry christmas (Tuesday, December 25th, 1984)

⭐︎ CHAPTER 20 - lyrics tell stories (Monday, December 31st, 1984)

⭐︎ CHAPTER 21 - safe and good (Wednesday, January 9th, 1985)

⭐︎ CHAPTER 22 - basketball dinner (Friday, January 18th, 1985)

⭐︎ CHAPTER 23 - character sheet (Wednesday, January 23rd, 1985)

⭐︎ CHAPTER 24 - photos analyzes (Thursday, January 31st, 1985)

⭐︎ CHAPTER 25 - just a sweet boy (Sunday, February 9th, 1985)

⭐︎ CHAPTER 26 - my valentine (Thursday, February 14th, 1985)

⭐︎ CHAPTER 27 - Sincerely yours, the Breakfast Club (Saturday, February 23rd, 1985)

⭐︎ CHAPTER 28 - always the goddamn babysitter (Saturday, March 2nd, 1985)

⭐︎ CHAPTER 29 - something that felt right and good

⭐︎ CHAPTER 30 - advices (Wednesday, March 6th, 1985)

⭐︎ CHAPTER 31 - the finals and the nerves (Friday, March 15th, 1985)

⭐︎ CHAPTER 32 - finally

⭐︎ CHAPTER 33 - disco all the time, kiss occasionally

⭐︎ CHAPTER 34 - .......... (Tuesday, March 19th, 1985)

⭐︎ CHAPTER 35 - soccer afternoon (Sunday, March 24, 1985)

⭐︎ CHAPTER 36 - 3 inches (Sunday, March 31st, 1985)

⭐︎ CHAPTER 37 - witnessing love (Saturday, April 6th, 1985)

⭐︎ CHAPTER 38 - Corroded Coffin (Saturday, April 13th, 1985)

⭐︎ CHAPTER 39 - acceptance letters (Wednesday, April 17th, 1985)

⭐︎ CHAPTER 40 - proud of you

⭐︎ CHAPTER 41 - almost slipped words (Friday, April 26th, 1985)

⭐︎ CHAPTER 42 - love project (Monday, April 29th, 1985)

⭐︎ CHAPTER 43 - uptown girl (Friday, May 10th, 1985)

⭐︎ CHAPTER 44 - .............

⭐︎ CHAPTER 45 - ........... (Sunday, May 19th, 1985)

⭐︎ CHAPTER 46 - farewell party (Saturday, May 25th, 1985)