#st2 rewatch

Steve Harrington x Hopper!Reader

Summary: Set in season 2. You find out you're pregnant at possibly the worst time, and things don't go to plan when trying to keep it from the chief of police, who also happens to be your dad.

--------------------------------------------------------

The dashboard of Steve’s BMW was blurring through your tear-filled eyes. You were parked behind the old movie theater, hidden from the prying eyes of Hawkins, but you felt more exposed than you ever had in your life.

"Y/N, talk to me," Steve pleaded, his hands hovering over the steering wheel, unsure if he was allowed to touch you. "Is it... did something happen with your parents? Is it the Upside Down stuff again?"

You couldn't speak. You just opened your clenched fist, revealing the crumpled box instructions and the plastic stick.

Steve squinted in the dim streetlight. He took it from you, his usually perfectly styled hair messy from running his hands through it in frustration. He stared at the stick. He turned it over. He stared at it again.

"Oh," he breathed. The air left the car. "Oh. Wow."

"I'm sorry," you sobbed, burying your face in your hands. "I'm so sorry, Steve. We’re seniors. We’re supposed to go to college. My dad is going to kill you. He’s literally going to kill you."

Steve sat in silence for a long, terrifying ten seconds. Then, the shifting of leather seats told you he was moving. He reached over the console, unbuckling your seatbelt and pulling you awkwardly but firmly into his chest.

"Hey," he murmured, his voice shaking just a little, betraying his own terror. "Hey, stop apologizing. Don't do that."

"But our lives..."

"Are going to change," Steve finished for you. He rested his chin on top of your head, staring out the windshield at the dark lot. "Yeah. They’re gonna change. And I’m terrified. I’m... I’m actually freaking out right now. But Y/N, look at me."

You pulled back, sniffing. Steve’s eyes were wide and scared, but his jaw was set with that stubborn determination he usually saved for Demogorgons.

"We handle monsters," he said, wiping a tear from your cheek with his thumb. "We handle shadow monsters and government conspiracies. We can handle a baby. I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me, okay? I’m right here."

-----------------------------------------

Two days later, the world was ending again. The Mind Flayer was possessing Will, and the "Party" had congregated at the Byers' house to formulate a plan.

You and Steve pulled the kids—Mike, Dustin, Lucas, and Max—into the hallway while Joyce and Jonathan were busy with Will.

"Listen up, dipshits," Steve whispered, crouching down to their eye level. "We need to tell you guys something because if things go south tonight, someone needs to know. But this stays in the circle. Under no circumstances does Hopper find out. Not until the gate is closed."

"Did you guys get bitten?" Dustin asked, his lisp prominent due to his missing teeth. "Are you dying?"

"What? No," you sighed, leaning against the wall, "I’m pregnant."

The silence was instantaneous and deafening.

Max was the first to react. Her eyes went wide. "Whoa. Seriously?"

"Yes, seriously," Steve hissed.

Then, the boys' brains caught up with the biology.

"Wait," Lucas grimaced, his nose wrinkling. "That means you guys..." He made a vague, uncomfortable hand gesture.

"Ew!" Dustin shouted, then slapped a hand over his own mouth. "Ew! Steve! You and Y/N? Like... naked?"

"Okay, shut up!" Steve’s face turned bright red. "Yes, that is how it works, genius. Stop picturing it!"

"I’m traumatized," Mike muttered, looking at the floor. "I’m actually traumatized. You guys are gross."

"We are bringing a new life into the world, Wheeler, show some respect!" Steve whispered-shouted. "If we get into a fight, you guys watch her back. And do not tell Hopper."

"Why not?" Max asked.

"Because he’s the Chief of Police and he carries a gun and he’s stressed enough without knowing I knocked up his daughter" Steve said rapidly. "Promise?"

The kids looked at each other, then at you. Despite the "gross" factor, their expressions softened. They nodded in unison.

"Promise," Dustin said solemnly. "Operation Baby-Sitter is a go."

-----------------------------------------

The plan had gone to hell. You were trapped in Hopper’s cabin. The woods outside were teeming with Demodogs. Hopper was pacing with a rifle, Nancy was loading a shotgun, and the kids were huddled in the center of the room.

You stood near the fireplace, gripping a heavy iron poker.

"Get away from the window," Steve snapped, grabbing your arm and pulling you deeper into the room. He shoved you behind him, effectively using his body as a human shield.

"Steve, I can fight," you argued.

"Not tonight you can't," Dustin piped up from the floor, grabbing your pant leg. "You sit down. We have a perimeter."

Hopper paused, looking over his shoulder. "Why is everyone babysitting Y/N? She’s eighteen, Harrington, she can handle herself."

"Just... tactical positioning, Chief!" Steve stammered, swinging his nail-bat nervously.

Suddenly, the screeching began. A heavy body slammed against the door. Then another against the wall. Wood splintered.

"They're here!" Jonathan yelled.

A Demodog burst through the kitchen window, snarling. Hopper opened fire, the blast deafening in the small space. Another crashed through the bedroom door.

Chaos erupted. Steve swung his bat, connecting with a sickening crunch against a Demodog's skull. You stepped back, trying to keep the kids behind you, when a third creature broke through the boarded-up window directly to your right.

It didn't bite, but it lunged. You tried to dodge, but the creature's shoulder checked you with the force of a freight train.

You flew backward, slamming hard into the log wall. The wind was knocked out of you, and you slid to the floor, gasping, clutching your stomach.

"Y/N!"

It wasn't just Steve. It was Mike, Dustin, and Lucas all screaming at once.

Steve abandoned his fight, sprinting across the room and sliding on his knees to shield you, swinging the bat wildly to keep the beast away. The kids immediately swarmed around you, Mike throwing a candlestick at the monster, Dustin trying to drag you by your arms.

"Don't touch her!" Steve roared at the monster, his voice cracking with pure, primal fear.

Suddenly, the front door exploded inward. A dead Demodog flew into the room. Eleven walked in, hand raised, nose bleeding. The remaining monsters whimpered and fled into the night.

The silence that followed was heavy with adrenaline.

You groaned, sitting up against the wall. You were bruised, but you felt okay. No sharp pains.

"Are you okay?" Steve was frantic, his hands patting down your arms, your legs, then resting firmly, protectively, on your stomach. "Is the baby okay?"

The room went dead silent.

Hopper, who was reloading his gun, froze. He slowly turned around. He looked at Steve’s hand on your stomach. He looked at the circle of terrified middle schoolers protecting you. He looked at your tear-streaked face.

"The what?" Hopper’s voice was low and dangerous.

Steve flinched, but he didn't move his hand. "We... she..."

"She's pregnant!" Dustin blurted out, unable to handle the tension. "Steve and Y/N are having a baby and you can't shoot Steve because the baby needs a father!"

Hopper’s face went through a complex journey. First, shock. Then, the red flush of anger. He looked at Steve with a gaze that could peel paint.

"You," Hopper pointed a shaking finger at Steve. "You knocked her up? You're children!"

"We're eighteen!" Steve defended weakly.

"Hop, just," you whispered, grimacing as you tried to stand. Steve immediately helped you up. "It just happened. We were scared to tell you."

Hopper looked at you, seeing the fear in your eyes—not of the monsters, but of him. His shoulders slumped. The anger drained away, replaced by the sheer exhaustion of a man who had seen too much death. He looked at the chaos of the cabin, the monster guts on the floor, and then at the new life growing in the middle of a war zone.

He sighed, a long, ragged sound. He walked over to Steve. Steve flinched, expecting a punch.

Instead, Hopper grabbed Steve by the collar of his polo shirt, pulled him close, and said, "You hurt her, you leave her, or you fail to step up... and I will feed you to the things in those woods. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir," Steve gulped. "loud and clear."

Hopper let him go, then looked at you. His eyes softened. "We'll... we'll figure it out. Joyce has old baby clothes. It’s... fine. We’ll figure it out."

-----------------------------------------

Seven months later.

The summer sun was shining on the Wheeler house. The Upside Down was sealed (for now). The terror of the demo-dogs felt like a lifetime ago.

The living room was crowded. Nancy, Jonathan, Joyce, and all the kids were squeezed onto the sofas. The air smelled of Mrs. Wheeler’s casserole.

The front door opened, and Steve walked in. He looked different. He looked tired, yes, but he held himself differently. He was carrying a car seat. You walked in beside him, moving slowly, looking exhausted but radiant.

"Is that it?" Dustin asked, jumping over the back of the couch. "Is that the nugget?"

"Careful, careful!" Steve warned, placing the carrier on the coffee table. "Don't crowd her."

He pulled back the pink blanket.

Inside slept a tiny baby girl with a shock of dark hair that looked suspiciously like Steve’s.

"Whoa," Lucas whispered. "She's... really small."

"She's perfect," El said softly, reaching out a finger. The baby’s tiny hand instinctively grasped El’s finger.

"What's her name?" Mike asked.

You looked at Steve, then across the room to where Hopper was standing by the bookshelf, nursing a lukewarm beer. He had been quiet since you arrived, keeping his distance.

"We named her Sara," you said softly. "Sarah Harrington."

The room went quiet. Joyce’s hand flew to her mouth, her eyes watering. Everyone knew about your late sister, Sara. But the adults—Joyce and Hopper—knew the other significance.

Hopper froze. He stared at the floor for a moment, his jaw working. Then, he set his beer down and walked over to the coffee table. The kids parted like the Red Sea to let him through.

Hopper looked down at the infant. He looked at her tiny nose, her closed eyes.

"Sara," he rasped, his voice thick.

"Do you want to hold her?" Steve asked. It was a brave offer, considering how terrifying Hopper could be.

Hopper nodded, unable to speak. Steve gently lifted the baby out of the carrier and passed her into Hopper’s large, rough hands.

Hopper held her like she was made of glass. He brought her close to his chest, rocking slightly. The baby shifted, letting out a small sigh, and settled against the flannel of his shirt.

You watched from the side, leaning into Steve. Steve wrapped his arm around your waist, kissing your temple.

Hopper looked up at you, his eyes filled with tears that he refused to let fall. He looked at the baby—a symbol that life goes on, that despite the monsters and the darkness, there is still something new and good.

"She's beautiful, kid," Hopper whispered to you. "She's a fighter. I can tell."

"She has a good team looking out for her," you smiled, looking around at the chaotic, weird, wonderful family you had built.

I just realized that maybe the reason Dart was able to resist the pull of the hivemind to attack was just like Will. He was able to channel the good memories of being loves and cared for by Dustin and the 3 Musketeers was like its anchor.

Part Seven: Killed by the Closet -- A Deep Dive into Bob Newby in S2 (4/4)

PART 1 HERE | PART 2 HERE | PART 3 HERE | PART 4 HERE PART 5 HERE | PART 6 HERE | PART 8 HERE | PART 9 HERE PART 10 HERE | PART 11 HERE | PART 12 HERE | PART 13 HERE PART 14 HERE | PART 15 HERE | PART 16 HERE | PART 17 HERE PART 18 HERE | PART 19 HERE | PART 20 HERE | PART 21 HERE PART 22 HERE | PART 23 HERE | PART 24 HERE | PART 25 HERE PART 26 HERE | PART 27 HERE | PART 28 HERE | PART 29 HERE PART 30 HERE | PART 31 HERE

STILL HERE? BEST HOLD ONTO YOUR PANTS, FOLKS -- I HAVEN'T STOPPED SHAKING

**Heads up that if you notice changes, it's because I'm updating/editing things as they come to me!

We have finally made it to the sad ending -- Bob Newby's.

Like I pointed out in the last post, it's Bob's sacrifice that allows Joyce, Hopper, Mike, and Will to escape Hawkins Lab with their lives. He's able to break down the security systems and free them from the structures trapping them inside.

Bob, of course, is expecting to get out with them.

Only when it's time to extract himself, his path is blocked by a demodog, which Bob scares off by cleverly activating the sprinkler system.

HMMM.... (#LoversLakeGate/#PipeGate/#Hosegate/#Watergate lives)

Bob saves himself here on his own.

After that (and after our other characters have gone), Owens stays behind to guide Bob through the lab.

And, rather than telling Bob about the demodog coming his way (and giving Bob some agency in his own destiny), Owens seemingly decides to “spare” Bob the knowledge and fear he suspects that information could bring.

Owens -- ever benevolent, a tad patronizing -- keeps Bob in the dark. Instructs him to do the following:

RECORD SCRATCH.

AND THEN -- GUYS, I SHIT YOU NOT -- OWENS LITERALLY SAYS:

Bob is as baffled as we are.

Bob is told that, to ensure his own survival, he must quite literally get in the closet (at the direction of a doctor working for the govt, mind you).

And the second Owens does, Bob freaks out.

ALMOST AS IF IT'S A CONCEPT HE'S FAMILIAR WITH!!!

What was going on in the 80s that prompted the medical field and US government's collaboration in silencing, persecuting, and forcing queer folks (amongst other marginalized groups) to either conform, hide, or die?

Here's how the rest of the scene goes: Bob makes it through that particular cross with the demodog safely, but he looks the most shaken up we've seen him. All his earlier confidence gone. But Owens tells him --

Bob should be very relieved by this. Except, he actually looks defeated because he is once again hiding from his problems, rather than dealing with them like a "hero".

Relegated to the closet after it seemed like he was finally breaking free -- not just literally, but free of his own fears and negative self-perception.

He looks like a man who already knows he's dead.

And when Bob does step out of the closet, thinking he's safe...

Boom. A (phallic) broomstick falls out with him -- the sound of which gives away his location and sends the demodog after him again.

"Run!"

Once again, Bob has to run from "Mr. Baldo". Except this time it's not really his choice... and it's no nightmare.

You know the rest -- Bob makes a final sprint for his life, shuts the door on the demodog, and seems to have made it out alive...

But then Bob, with relief and hope, stops to look at Joyce. His girlfriend. As if she is his salvation. But because of that final delay --

-- Bob Newby, Superhero, becomes food for the demodogs.

Which when you think about it now, kind of looks like the nightmare version of a -- ykw, not the point.

It's a tragic fate for someone who was so close to a way out --

-- Until forces seemingly greater than himself forced him to put his feelings aside and get in the closet.

But Bob and Joyce's love didn't guarantee him his happy ending in this tale.

And perhaps it's because their love wasn't the kind Bob needed -- it wasn't true.

It was all a lie...

There's the catch: You can bow to authority, follow the rules, conform, suppress who you really are. You can make yourself smaller and smaller until you've completely lost yourself. You can give up what (or who) you truly love for the sake of survival... And still lose. Still die. Still suffer a fate worse than death...

And inflict that pain, not just on yourself, but those you care about the most.

"Remember, Bob Newby, superhero."

An inspiration? Or cautionary tale?

With Bob Newby's story done (for now), I'm going to pivot from the end of one sad story -- to (seemingly) another one: Mike Wheeler's...

...Unless he finds a different way out (of the closet).

Stay tuned.

PAIRING - billy hargrove x reader

SYNOPSIS - your house is the least place you want to be. lucky you, billy seems to be in the right place at the right time.

CONTENT - part three. unstable!reader. verbally abuse? toxic house environment.

WC - 3k

NOTE - if it's not clear, reader is adopted and doesn't have the best relationship with her family. my girl is billy’s female version at this point. (part two here)

Yeah thanks Murray that’s a really good definition of the GA rn like please some people still think that Will isn’t in love with Mike helloo???