steve harrington is a total slime. (x reader)

1

NOVEMBER 6th, 1983
HAWKINS, INDIANA

"Something is coming."

Mike Wheeler, while he may just be a 14 year old with what must be the cruelest joke of a bowl cut you've ever seen, had an undeniable flair for the dramatic. You may have come here just to babysit, but even teenage girls loved some good Dungeons & Dragons every once in a while, so you were hanging onto every word.

"Something hungry for blood."

Without realizing, you found yourself leaning in to hear what he was saying. How could you not? The kid held a good campaign. It was captivating, and even though you'd rather be with Nancy, your best friend and Mike's older sister, it was nice to let your nerdy side out. You don't get to do this that often anymore.

"A shadow grows on the wall behind you, swallowing you in darkness."

Three more 14 year old boys listen just as intently as you do. One has a particularly intense look on his face, wiping his nose with his hand as he stares Mike down. He has curly hair and a hat on, and might just be the goofiest, dorkiest, most embarrassing kid you knew. He's also the reason you're here with a group of middle schoolers rather than out with your friends like a normal seventeen year old girl. His name is Dustin Henderson, and he's your little brother.

"It's almost here."

"What is it?" Will Byers, a sweet kid with wide eyes that reminded you of Bambi and a bowl cut that reminded you of the dishes you hadn't done yet, spoke up next. A ghost of a smile was on his face, anticipating the reveal of the monster. Will was a cute kid, and sometimes you wish he was your little brother instead of the gremlin that is Dustin. (You say that, but it's bullshit. You wouldn't trade your brother for the world and you know it.)

You knew his older brother, Jonathan- you were lab partners. He was pretty quiet when you first met him back in middle school, probably because he was an easy target for bullies, but once you got paired up in chemistry you formed a fast and friendly relationship. You weren't best friends, not by a long shot, but you always had fun when you were together in class. Sometimes you saw him outside of school, due to your brother and his being almost inseparable from their little group, and you always waved. He always waved back.

"What if it's the Demogorgon?" Your brother was the next to speak, perking up as an invisible lightbulb seemed to flash above his head. His eyes widened. "Oh, Jesus," he put his head in his hands, "we're so screwed if it's the Demogorgon-"

"It's not the Demogorgon." Lucas Sinclair, a black boy with short hair, cuts him off. He's obviously annoyed. Lucas was nice, you guessed, but you didn't really know him that well. Unlike Mike and Will, he didn't have an older sibling that you were friends with. You always seemed to get on his nerves, like your brother, so you mostly just stayed out of his way. That was his problem, not yours.

"An army of troglodytes charge into the chamber!" Mike slams down a piece onto the board as Lucas leans back in his chair with a smug smile on his face.

"Troglodytes?" Dustin quirks, barely holding back a laugh. You had to admit, it did seem pretty goofy. You shook your head, no longer invested in the silly game, and turned your attention back to the history textbook that was in your hands. You had a test the next morning, and since you'd slept through almost every one of Mr. Dawson's awful lectures, you needed to cram like hell if you wanted to pass.

"Told ya." Lucas laughs, and so do the rest of the boys. You can't help but smile, despite the fact that you were on a passage about the Bolshevik Revolution. Their happiness was contagious. The laughter dies down after a little bit, and Mike becomes serious once again.