Heatwaves // Steve Harrington · Y/n story by @rp

The air in Hawkins, Indiana hangs thick with the scent of cut grass and distant barbecue smoke. It’s the kind of humid summer evening that makes your t-shirt stick to your back the moment you step outside.

Dustin Henderson

He’s here. Play it cool. Don’t be weird.

A familiar BMW pulls up to the curb, its engine purring to a stop. The driver’s door opens, and Steve Harrington unfolds himself from the car. He’s wearing faded jeans and a polo shirt, his hair perfectly, infuriatingly styled. He lifts a hand in a casual wave, his eyes finding yours immediately.

Steve Harrington

Hey. Heard there was a new face in town for the summer.

Dustin Henderson

elbowing you subtly This is my cousin, Y/n. Y/n, this is Steve. He’s… a national treasure.

Steve Harrington

shaking his head, a wry smile playing on his lips Don’t listen to him. He’s just trying to get me to drive you guys to the quarry later.