Don’t touch my sister · Y/n story by @lotties

The summer heat clung to Hawkins like a second skin. Through the open window of Steve Harrington’s bedroom, the sound of an engine cut through the cicadas—a low, throaty rumble that didn't belong to any family sedan.

Robin Buckley

perks up from where she’s sprawled on Steve’s bed, a Family Video nametag still pinned crookedly to her vest

Steve Harrington

doesn’t look up from the baseball bat he’s been idly spinning in his hands

The engine died. A car door slammed. Then the distinct click of heels on the driveway—sharp, deliberate.

Steve Harrington

mutters under his breath Brace yourself.

Robin Buckley

brow furrows, voice dropping to a whisper She’s that bad?

Steve Harrington

snorts She’s worse. And she knows it.

Footsteps climbed the stairs. Steady. Unhurried. The kind of footsteps that didn’t care if they were heard.