Stranger Things Imagines and Preferences

Steve Harrington ~ A Sweet Redemption (Part Two of A Sweet Distraction)

*I DON'T OWN THIS GIF* *CREDIT TO GIF OWNER*

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 6.1k

Warnings: S4 SPOILERS.  Mentions of blood. 

a/n: Here it is!  Part two of A Sweet Distraction.  This is the longest piece I have written, so we can just ignore the word count, okay?  Anyway, I had to mess with the storyline from the show a little to write this one, so don't crucify me if some things are a little out of order.  I mentioned "The Boys of Summer" by Don Henley in this one which was actually covered by The Ataris in 2003.  It's a good song, and you should definitely give it a listen if you don't already know it.  My first song pick for this one was "The Final Countdown," but after listening to it a few times, I was like....that does not fit the vibe lol.  I did my best to wrap this one up because I don't want to write a part three, so I hope you all enjoy it.  My next post will be a Henry Creel one shot, so be on the lookout for that!  As always, thanks for the support!!

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Your eyes shot open. The muffled sounds of the television from downstairs echoed in your room. You didn't get up right away. Instead, you looked around at the familiar room. Your posters hung on the wall, covering almost every inch of hideous flower wallpaper your mother had picked for you when you were a little girl. Your bookshelf stood in the farthest corner next to your desk. It was all the way it should be. You pushed the duvet off your body and threw your legs over your bed, but when you stood, you froze. Your door was cracked, letting in a little sliver of light from the hallway. You never left your door open. Every night, you made sure it was shut before climbing into bed. An unsettling feeling filled your stomach, but you pushed it away. Maybe your mom had just forgotten to shut it after she came in and checked on you. She did that sometimes, right?

You walked to the door and opened it the rest of the way, peeking into the hall. Nothing was out of the ordinary. All the photos of you and Mike through the years were still hanging on the wall. You made your way down the stairs with caution until you were standing in the living room. The television was much louder now, but your father wasn't sitting in his usual spot.

"Dad?" You called out but got no answer.

You turned and began walking toward the dining room. When you entered the little room and rounded the corner, you saw your father sitting at the table in the kitchen. His back was to you, and he was hunched over something. You leaned to the side a little and noticed your math textbook and homework papers strewn all over the table. The unsettling feeling from before was back, and you swallowed the acid that was climbing up your throat. You took a few hesitant steps toward your father's back.

"Dad?"

"Y/N," he said cheerily, "you finally decided to join me."

You stood frozen in the archway that led toward where your father was sitting. There was something wrong.

"W-what are you doing?"

"I've been waiting on you so we can work on your math."

Your forehead creased.

"But-"

Before you could get another word out, the lights above the table began to flicker.

"Why don't you just have a seat?" Your dad asked, his voice low and distorted.

He turned in his chair, and when you saw his face, you jumped back. Where there used to be smooth skin, there were wrinkles and shadows. His eyes were burned and black, and his teeth looked like tar when he smiled. You stepped back.