#Max and El absolutely talk about it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mc-i-r · 9 months

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Disposable Heroes

Part one, Part two, Part three, Part four AO3 link

A/N: hi yes so sorry for how late this is, it turned into a huge monster of a fic that I’m still working on but I figured posting the first part wouldn’t hurt. This is based on this post by @liightsnow, @acowardinmordor, and @00biscuit while back and I decided to expand that concept a bit and here we are. I'll be tagging anyone that seemed interested in the concept at the end of the fic! Warnings are below but I just wanna say that Steve is struggling with his sexuality in this one so most of it comes from that. This will absolutely have a happy ending, just not right now. Enjoy the angst!

Tw: internalized homophobia, homophobic language, mentions of canon violence, dissociation, panic attacks

———

It’s a Sunday afternoon when he realizes it. Steve is sitting on his couch, eating a shitty frozen meal and watching a random movie on TV when it hits him. The kids haven’t asked him for a ride in two weeks. Two Saturdays have passed and there was not one call— either on the phone or over the walkie— from any of the kids. Not even Dustin, who has seemed to make it his life’s mission in the past couple years to annoy Steve into an early grave.

It’s not like he hasn’t seen them at all. He still practices basketball with Lucas on Thursdays, even though the season is long over. His weekly dinners with Claudia and Dustin are still going strong every Wednesday. Joyce seems to invite him over for dinners every couple weeks. From the outside, everything seems fine. And maybe it is, but Steve’s noticed things.

See, he’s not as stupid as people think he is. He may not be academically smart but he can read. However, instead of books, it’s people. He can read their micro-expressions, notice little signs in their body language that help him understand the person. He can tell when people are nervous when they avoid eye contact, can tell how anxious they are when they distract themselves by picking at their fingers. It’s how he’s so good with the kids. They’re in the stubborn stage of their teenage years, the time in which the only answer you’ll get is ‘I’m fine. Leave me alone’. But he can tell if there’s something on their minds, if there’s something eating away at them.

He can tell that Mike’s anger and pointed barbs are directed towards himself, how he’s struggling with something he can’t quite admit to himself yet. How Max is frustrated with her body, with accepting help, because she’s always had to rely on herself and putting that much trust in someone else has never been an option for her until now. How Lucas is trying to find joy in doing something he loves again, because his love for basketball has been ruined by Carver and his trusty band of assholes. How Dustin is trying to deal with almost losing Eddie, how he’s processing the feelings of almost losing a brotherly figure along with one of his friends. How Will is hiding part of himself, struggling to accept it in the same way Mike is. How El is trying so hard to find her new normal, to adjust to getting her life— her father— back.

There’s another thing he’s noticed, however. It’s that the kids are obsessed with Eddie. Steve from a couple years ago would feel jealous of Eddie, and would try to hold it against him. Now, though, Steve just feels… sad. The kids constantly talk about how cool and badass Eddie is for still being himself despite all the shit Hawkins has thrown at him. They talk about how Eddie takes them places, gets them little trinkets for their nerd game, and takes them fun places. Eddie does all these little things for the kids, lets them just be kids, and really, Steve can’t be mad at him for it. He tries to let them have fun, but his constant worrying overwhelms them. It brings them down. Eddie doesn’t do that. He joins right in with them, basking in the fun and letting himself go. Steve… can’t. Not with all the shit he’s seen. Letting his guard down is something he can’t afford to do anymore.

He sighs down at his meal, chucking it on the coffee table as he loses his appetite. His glasses land next to the disposable plastic tray, sliding across the finished wood surface from the force of his throw. He rubs harshly over his face, hands digging into his eyes until he sees stars.

Steve knows he’s not perfect. Hell, it took an interdimensional monster trying to kill him in order for him to realize that he could be a better person. That the only person truly able to change his life is himself. He used to think he had no choice in his life— whether it was his parents' high expectations of him or his friends trying to mold him into their perfect little plaything— but he knows better now. He knows that he shouldn’t have become King Steve, that he shouldn’t have hurled all his hate and anger towards other people who didn’t deserve it. He knows he shouldn’t have called people names or slurs, that he shouldn’t have spray painted lockers or ripped up books or shoved people against hard asphalt. He knows that, but knowing it was wrong doesn’t erase the fact that it happened. That Steve did those things and hurt people.

Part of him knows that his past is what made the kids turn towards Eddie. Why wouldn’t they? Steve was a bully, thought he was hot shit in school and made it everyone’s problem. Eddie was simply himself. His unabashed, unashamed self. He stood on cafeteria tables, made dramatic speeches, and shared his opinions to anyone and everyone who would listen. He’s so genuine and so, so much better for the kids. He teaches them how to be themselves, how to shove off the hate and embrace their weird side. He’s perfect for them, and Steve knows deep down that this is good for them. The kids need a good role model, one they can rely on, and Eddie has his herd of little sheep to teach and protect. It’s perfect. They’re perfect.

Steve remembers the time last week at the Byers-Hopper house when their little obsession truly became real. They were waiting for the bread to finish baking in the oven, and Steve saw that Will was seated alone in the living room. Joyce and Hopper were in the kitchen, talking and keeping a lookout so the bread wouldn’t burn. Jonathan and El were listening to music in his room, the synth and guitars echoing down the hallway. So, Steve decided to finally talk to Will. It’s not like they don’t talk ever, just… not much. Will is quiet, blends into the background, and Steve never felt like the kid would be comfortable with him trying to get in his business. However, he needed to ask the question that had been on his mind for a while.

Steve sat down on the couch next to him, keeping a fair amount of distance between them, and rested his elbows on his knees. Will was reading a comic, the cover full of bright colors and words, not paying attention. Steve sighed, pushed his glasses up, and ran a hand through his own hair.

“Hey, um… can we talk for a sec?”

Will startled a little, like he didn’t realize Steve was there, and closed his comic. He nodded, and Steve tried not to feel bad about the hesitation in his eyes.

“Is there something going on that I don’t know about? Like with the others?” Will’s eyebrows furrowed, a confused expression taking over his face.

“Um.. what do you mean?”

“Just… have I done anything to them to make them mad? I just… I don’t know, I feel like I’ve done something but I don’t know what,” Steve confessed. He must have looked as distraught as he felt, because Will seemed to soften at his explanation a bit.

“Why do you think that, Steve?” Will asked softly, and Steve had a moment of realization that Will seemed years older than he looked. Steve sighed, and explained that the kids haven’t really been hanging around him much and instead like to spend time with Eddie. He’s quick to clarify that he doesn’t mean anything bad by it, just wants to know what happened. It was Will’s turn to sigh, and he looked at Steve with something akin to sympathy.

“Steve, I don’t say this to be mean but… Eddie just relates to us more, you know? He shares more interests with us, and he seems to get us better,” Will expressed. His eyes widened and he hastily added, “it doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with you! Just… it’s nice to have somewhere else to go, you know?”

The rest of the evening was spent with Steve silently eating his dinner, Will’s words echoing through his head as he munched on half-burnt bread.

Steve decides then, TV dinner half-eaten and work vest still on his shoulders, that he’s going to make this better.

The next day, Eddie comes into Family Video to pick up some movies, definitely for a movie night judging by the titles— he seriously doubts a metalhead would willingly watch The Goonies, The Dark Crystal, and Ghostbusters by himself on a Saturday night. Eddie bounds up to the register, movies in hand, and does a dramatic bow as he presents them to Steve.

“I wish to borrow these, my liege,” Eddie declares, his voice deep and in a horrible mockery of an English accent. Steve scoffs and rolls his eyes, unable to hide the small grin on his face at the other man's theatrics.

Eddie looks so effortlessly pretty, his hair tied back in a ponytail and his tattoos exposed through the large arm holes in his homemade tank top. Steve shakes his head to get rid of those thoughts and takes the movies to check them out, ignoring the late fee balance on Eddie's account. A glance at the man in front of him, who is bouncing on his toes and looking around the store, gives Steve an idea.

“Hey, is Hellfire still going on?”

Eddie snaps his attention back to Steve, looking a little startled to be asked such a thing.

“Uh… yeah, it's still going on. We have to play in Gareth’s hot ass garage since school is out but we’re making it work. Why d’you ask?”

“Oh, uh… the kids complained awhile back that they didn’t have a good spot to play anymore and I was just wondering,” Steve explains. Eddie raises an eyebrow at him, and Steve can feel him staring. Can feel him looking at him closely. Too closely. He clears his throat and looks back down at the counter, pushing his gold, wire-framed glasses further up his nose. “I uh… I actually wanted to offer up my place? My parents aren’t home much”— more like never— “and I’ve got plenty of space for the gremlins and the other guys. Plus, my A/C works and I’ve got a shit ton of snacks. I’ll stay out of your hair and-“

“Actually uh…” Eddie cuts him off with a strained voice. Steve looks up to find his face contorted like he ate something sour, and he knows what his response is going to be before he opens his mouth. Eddie wipes a hand over his mouth before shoving it in his pocket. “Yeah, the other guys just… really wouldn’t want to be there.”

Steve nods— tries not to let the denial sting— and looks down at the movies in his hands. Ignoring how they shake, he sets them on the counter and slides them towards Eddie.

“That’s okay man, I get it. I need a break from the little horrors anyway,” he huffs out, the words digging their way into the pit in his stomach. He puts on his best customer service smile and looks up at Eddie, finding him looking a little wary. Eddie hesitates, as if debating with himself on whether or not to say anything, before rapping his knuckles on the counter in a little rhythm and picking up his movies. An awkward smile finds its way to his face, and Steve thinks it strange and out of place. It’s so.. un-Eddie-like. The pit grows deeper.

Walking backwards towards the entrance, Eddie throws a little salute his way before turning and swinging out the door. A belated “see ya, Harrington” drifts through the closing door in his wake.

Steve slumps over the counter when he’s gone, holding his head in his hands and feeling the childish urge to cry make its way up to his eyes. Even after everything— after walking through hell together, dragging his lifeless body out of the Upside Down as his blood dripped down his back and soaked through his clothes, standing vigil at his side until he woke up two weeks later— Eddie still seems to hate him.

But Steve… he feels the opposite. He has this overwhelming desire to be with Eddie. To hang out with him in the back of his van, drinking sodas and eating snacks as they look out over Lover’s Lake while the sun sets. To talk to him until the early hours of the morning until there’s nothing left to say. To go for drives late at night and listen to his loud music on the radio while holding hands over the center console. He has feelings for Eddie he’s never had before. Not for any past romantic conquests nor any girl. Hell, not even for Nancy. He’s never felt this intense need to be near someone before, and it scares him. It truly terrifies him.

He’s not homophobic— his platonic soulmate is a lesbian, for Christ's sake— but the fact that he feels this way is just… wrong to him. How is Steve Harrington, ladies’ man and charmer extraordinaire, into dudes? What is he, like, half gay? It just doesn’t make sense, doesn’t seem right, for him to feel like this. He sighs into his hands, digging his palms into his eyes until he sees stars. He can’t be thinking about this now, he can’t be thinking about this at all. He needs to shove it in the box in the back of his head where all the hard feelings go, waiting and festering to be dealt with later. He needs to, but he doesn’t know if he can.

Fuck, he needs to talk to Robin. Shit- can he though? What if what he’s feeling is a fluke or something? What if it’s just in his head because he’s desperate? What if Robin thinks he’s making fun of her and won’t take him seriously? It’s not fair of him to throw all his problems on her, even if he thinks she could help. It’s not her job to look after him, to take care of him. He can do that himself. He can figure this out himself.

Distantly, the words of Richard Harrington play in his ears. About how being gay is wrong, how it’s a disease. How it’s a sickness that slowly takes over until there’s nothing left. How it’s a disgrace.

He remembers sitting in the living room with his parents on a rare occasion in which they were home, watching the news channel as it talked about an epidemic spreading through young men. His father scoffed at the screen when they started talking about potential cures.

“Cures? They should just let those fags die. They brought this on themselves, you know. Typical of them to complain about the fucking consequences,” Richard had spat out at the block TV, standing to refill his bourbon. Steve had clenched his fists at his side, his already stiff posture straightening still. He felt angry at his fathers words, something pure and burning in his gut.

He didn’t know what it was at the time, but maybe he should’ve known. Maybe him being queer shouldn’t be as much of a surprise as it feels. Maybe he’s always known and just couldn’t bring himself to admit it. Maybe that anger he felt at his father’s words was partly on behalf of himself, too.

A wince shudders through him as he remembers how that night ended.

Steve had stood up from the couch, watching the dark liquid flow into the crystal glass in his father’s hand.

“What’s so wrong with being gay? I don’t understand how you could just.. hate people like that. Hate them for just existing,” Steve countered. His father had frozen at his words, slowly setting down the decanter with a solid ‘thunk’ against the metal tray where it belonged and turned to face him. His face was slowly gaining a reddish hue, a sign of the anger rising within him.

“What did you just say?” He demanded, voice scarily calm but laced with an icy rage. Steve swallowed.

“What… What's wrong with being gay, sir?” Steve hesitated, voice failing him. Richard had downed the glass of bourbon before throwing it at Steve, the crystal shattering on the mantelpiece behind him and sending shards flying.

“What’s wrong, Steven, is that you think it’s okay. No son of mine will think like that, not on my watch,” his father boomed, taking long strides towards him. Steve didn’t dare move, only watched his fist grow nearer as he punched him high on his cheek. He fell to the floor, arms trying to protect his head but it was no use. Richard had ripped his arms away, gripping the front of his shirt and making Steve hover above the ground.

“I didn’t raise a fucking fairy, Steven,” he spat. “A faggot.” Steve recoiled, physically feeling the vitriol his father aimed at his face. Richard had sneered, pulled him close and whispered, “Never forget that, Steven,” before shoving him harshly onto the ground and walking away. Black had clouded the edges of his vision, and he laid on the plush rug until it cleared up. He looked over, found his mother silently watching the TV and sipping her wine, and begged with his eyes for her to help him. To say something. Anything. She didn’t, and Steve had to haul himself off the floor, grasping the couch when his vision swam, and stumbled his way to his room.

The rest of that weekend was spent in his room, gingerly cleaning his face and the couple places where glass had cut him on his arms with a wet washcloth and soap. It was the first time he had ever gotten a concussion. He was fifteen.

He remembers replaying the fight over and over again, feeling like those barbs were directed towards him, too. In hindsight, maybe they were. Maybe his father just knew. Knew he was queer long before Steve ever did. Maybe that’s why he’s always so angry with him, so… disappointed. A groan escapes him and he runs a hand through his hair. He’s been thinking way too damn much for it to be this early in the day.

God, he really wishes Robin was here. He knows he can’t talk to her, but it would be nice just to have someone here to keep him from spiraling and drowning in his thoughts. He pushes himself off the counter and goes over to the cart where the returns sit, hoping that busying himself will occupy his thoughts. He sets a few on the shelves when what Eddie said earlier barrels into him full-force.

“Yeah, the other guys just… really wouldn’t want to be there.”

Jesus fucking Christ, he’s stupid. Of course the other Hellfire guys wouldn’t want to be at his house, they probably still see him as King Steve. Most people do, nowadays. Only the ones he went through hell with know he’s different now, that he’s changed. So really, he can’t fault them for being against the idea of Hellfire at his house. He wouldn’t believe it either if he was in their shoes.

Then again, wouldn’t Eddie or the kids try to convince them he’s different? That he’s not a dick? Shit, he’s been through four apocalypses, three concussions, and survived Russian torture— surely they would give him the benefit of the doubt, right? He’s dropped the bad influences out of his life, found better friends, better family— or can he even say that anymore?— to be with. Wouldn’t they try to stick up for him? Or... is he just not worth it?

Steve clenches his eyes shut, willing his bubbling emotions back down, and grips the movie in his hands so hard the plastic begins to creak. The little voice in his head, one that sounds suspiciously like Robin, tells him to breathe. He does. Deep inhale, hold, long exhale. Over and over and over again until he’s calm, until his head is clear.

He knows what he needs to do now: apologize. If it's one thing Steve Harrington knows, it’s how to apologize. Hell, he’s done it more times than he can count. He knows how to repair burnt bridges and how to get past the tough exterior of a person to pull at their heartstrings for sympathy. He knows the key; he just has to make himself useful. If he can provide things for the kids, for Eddie and the Hellfire crew, then they’ll want him around. That’s how it’s always been. That’s how it is with his parents, with school, with his past friends, and now his current ones. He vaguely recalls his junior year art teacher saying that, "once is an accident, twice is a coincidence, but thrice is a pattern." Which means this, this is something he has to make right.

With a plan solidified in his mind, he goes back to work refilling the shelves with movies, brainstorming ideas to get his family back.

Over the next week, Steve becomes a one man show. He offers up more rides, more movie nights, more free reign of his house and his pool and his car and his money and himself just to make the kids happy. He picks up extra shifts at work just to get extra spending money for them, knowing that they go through twenty bucks in no time.

But… it doesn’t work. Because bit by bit, ride by ride, movie marathon by family dinner by game night by post-nightmare phone call, it becomes painfully clear. Everyone puts on a mask around him. One that says they’re happy to see him, that they’re glad he’s here, but he knows it’s a lie. This, really, shouldn’t be much of a surprise. People don’t stick around him much, so why did he think this was any different?

Maybe it’s because he was finally himself around them, he finally opened up and showed a bit of his true self, and was still rejected. Still pushed away. He wasn’t cowering behind a mask this time, he was just Steve. But it wasn’t good enough. He wasn’t good enough.

To their credit, it starts off slow. Casual comments that are cut off quickly, kicks under dinner tables and pointed throat clearing. It’s one instance during game night where it all clicks.

The Monopoly board is spread out before them in the Byers-Hopper living room. Steve, of course, is losing. He’s not good with investments and savings and he keeps landing on the goddamn ‘jail’ space but he doesn’t really care, not when he’s finally having fun with the kids. He groans when the dice make him land on one of Mike’s properties, shuffling his fake cash to pull out the tax money.

“C’mon this game is totally rigged. How the hell am I losing to a bunch of teens?” He grumbles as Mike proudly snatches the money from his hand. Max snickers from her place beside him, her pale blue eyes rolling as she looks at him.

“You know, if you actually used your brain then maybe you wouldn’t be losing. Ever think of that?” She quips, and Steve huffs. Leave it to him to be called out by a fifteen year old.

“I’m surprised there’s even a brain in there to begin with,” Dustin states. He’s seated across from Steve. “I mean, why else would he have-“

His comment is cut off by Lucas smacking his arm. Dustin looks at him like he’s about to protest when Lucas raises his eyebrows, looking pointedly from Dustin to Steve and back again. Steve can’t hear from his position so far away, but he swears Dustin mutters “shit” before crossing his arms and looking down at the board. Steve looks around at the rest of the group, noticing how none of them seem to want to look at him, choosing to focus rather intently on the cardboard before them.

The rest of the game is filled with awkward silences. Steve can feel them looking at him when he’s occupied, and it makes him feel like shit inside.

It’s on the drive home when it hits him. He is the one that doesn’t fit into their group, into their family. They’re slowly but surely removing him and replacing him with Eddie. With someone who fits. With someone better. It hits him so hard, so fully, that he has to pull over on a quiet street to sob in his empty car.

The first time it's fully solidified in his mind is at a barbecue at the Byers-Hoppers house. Robin can’t come, her aunt from up north is visiting for the weekend and she has to stay home. Steve walks through the house, planning on saying hello to Joyce before joining the party outside. He finds Joyce talking low to Eddie in the kitchen and he pauses in the doorway, watches how Joyce laughs at something Eddie says. How she places her hand on his arm as her eyes crinkle with the weight of her laugh. Eddie is smiling, open and wide, with a flush high on his cheeks that stains his skin pink. His dimples are on full display and it takes pure willpower for Steve not to go and poke at them, to settle his thumb in the divot of his skin.

Joyce leans close to Eddie and says something under her breath, making him blush purely red now and shush her, causing another wave of laughter to ripple through the both of them. The kitchen is filled with warmth, the afternoon sunlight streaming in through the sheer cream-colored curtains that line the two windows as laughter fills the room. It’s light, it’s happiness, it’s love. It’s something Steve hasn’t felt in years.

Steve knocks on the doorframe, waggling his fingers in greeting. They both turn to look at him, and all that warmth from before flees the room. If he hadn’t just seen the thin rays with his own two eyes, he could have sworn even the sun went down as well. He feels a stab of pain in his heart, so sharp it makes his breath stutter. He fights to put a smile on his face, briefly clearing his throat and praying his voice doesn’t sound as faint as he feels.

“Hey, Ms. Byers. Eddie,” he greets. Steve runs a hand through his hair, just to give himself something to do. “Just wanted to say hi before I go outside.”

Eddie’s face has gone completely slack, the only thing convincing Steve he didn’t hallucinate the entire exchange earlier is the flush that had yet to leave his cheeks. In fact, Eddie looks even more red now that he’s made his presence known. Joyce, to her credit, has a small polite smile on her face.

“Thank you, Steve, that's very kind of you,” she replies. She casts a glance at Eddie out of the corner of her eye, something Steve has noticed a lot of people do to each other when he’s around. “You go on outside now, okay? I’m sure the kids are missing you.”

Steve holds back his remark of “yeah, I actually doubt that” and nods, leaving the two of them in the kitchen as he continues down the hallway. He tries hard not to let the harshness of their quick whispers dig further into his already injured heart.

Once outside, he’s greeted by no one. Dustin and Lucas are discussing something rapidly to one another, Dustin gesturing wildly with his hands as Lucas nods along and adds details. Max and El are sitting on a lawn chair together, Max seemingly teaching El how to braid her hair. Mike and Will are sitting in the grass a bit away from the group, shoulders touching and heads bowed together as they talk quietly to one another. Steve smiles softly at them, knowing.

He makes his way over to Hopper, who is manning the grill with a beer in one hand and a spatula in the other. Steve waves and gives him an awkward little smile, and Hopper nods his head, pointing towards a cooler with his beer. Steve grabs one, popping it open and taking an, admittedly, big first swig. Hopper doesn’t notice, or at least doesn’t comment, and Steve looks out over the people he still considers his family. He catches Dustin’s eyes, hoping to have someone to talk to, but the kid only looks away and continues his conversation.

So now Steve is here by himself, slowly nursing a beer, and trying to keep his emotions in check.

It’s just that… he doesn’t know what he did. Was he too overbearing or did he not care enough? Was he too pushy or too distant? Was he just annoying them? Was he just an inconvenience? Did they ever really like him or did they just put up with them out of necessity? Or because they felt bad?

He takes another sip of beer, hating the way it tastes on his tongue but it’s better than the bile slowly rising in his throat. All he wants is for someone to see him, to see who he truly is and like it. To stick around. To stay.

And it’s true, he does have Robin, but sometimes she can’t give him what he needs. Call him a romantic but Steve wants that love, that connection, that intense feeling you get with a partner. He craves it more than anything. He wants to touch, to taste, to feel someone else.

Eddie. He wants Eddie.

A voice interrupts his thoughts.

“Kid, will you go get me a plate for the burgers?” Hopper asks, his gruff voice shoving all of his mushy thoughts aside. Steve nods, sets his beer on top of the cooler, and makes his way inside. He silently dreads ever walking in that room again, dreads having to feel the chill from before. However, the scene in the kitchen is drastically different this time. Joyce is by herself, Eddie nowhere to be seen, and is mixing together slaw in a big tupperware bowl.

Steve knocks on the frame again and is met with a small smile from the older woman. It’s infinitely more warm than the one he was met with when he got there, and he thinks it’s partly due to the lack of a certain metalhead in the room. Joyce sets down her spoon, wiping her hands on a nearby towel, and holds her arms out.

“C’mere, honey,” she murmurs, and Steve tries not to let her soft tone get to him. The last thing he needs is to cry in front of everyone. He walks forwards into her hug, leaning down a little to wrap his arms around her properly, and sighs when she rubs her hands up and down his back. Steve clenches his eyes shut, taking in stuttering breaths that he knows she can hear but thanks every god out there that she doesn’t comment on it. She taps her hands twice on his back and pulls away, reaching up to push some of his hair off his forehead and Steve wills himself to not lean into the touch too much.

“Sorry for not saying a proper hello earlier, I was a bit preoccupied. Eddie- well, that’s not my thing to tell but he needed some help with something and… well, you get it,” she smiles, laughs a little, and Steve smiles back.

This. This is what he wishes he could have with his parents. This lightness, this love. He never will, he knows that, but the little moments like this with Joyce, the way she hugs him and cares for him, are ones he treasures. Ones he wishes he could have everyday. Joyce is a wonderful mother, and part of him wishes he could have her as his own. Hell, she’s been more of a mother to him in the four years he’s known her than his mother ever has. But he knows that isn’t fair. It isn’t fair of him to put his parental issues on her or anyone else. So he doesn’t, and shoves his hands in his pockets instead.

“It’s okay, Ms. Byers, I get it. Sorry to interrupt you two, though,” he apologizes. She waves her hands in a shooing motion.

“Oh don’t apologize for that, honey, it’s okay,” she smiles, then hesitates. “I do want you to promise me something, okay?” Steve nods, and Joyce places her hands on either side of his face. “Promise me you’ll be careful with people, be gentle. Not everyone can be treated the same, some people… they’re special.

“Sometimes, it’s better to listen. Promise me, Steve, that you’ll always listen, okay?” She asks, and Steve has to swallow before he responds.

“I promise, Ms. Byers,” he replies, and she pats his cheek. Her smile has grown, and her eyes have softened.

“I love you, Steve, you know that, right?” Joyce asks, and it’s like the world has stopped moving. He didn’t know that, not really. Sure, he knew she liked him but he didn’t know she…

He doesn’t realize he’s tearing up until Joyce coos at him, wiping away a few stray tears that have escaped with her thumbs.

“I-I didn’t know you- I’m sorry, I don’t-“ Steve stutters out, but Joyce shushes him.

“You don’t have to apologize, Steve, it’s alright,” she insists. Her thin arms pull him into another hug and he buries his face in her shoulder. The angle is a little awkward, but it’s a comfort Steve hasn’t had in ages so he stays. “It’s gonna be alright.”

Her small hands rub up and down his back as he holds back tears. He regulates his breathing, taking in deep breaths and letting them out slowly, until he’s sure he won’t cry. He pulls back from the hug and wipes at his eyes, sure that they're red-rimmed and a little puffy, but Joyce only smiles that warm smile and pats his cheek again. Steve smiles at her, the first genuine smile he thinks he’s had in awhile, and it feels good. To smile and know it's real.

Joyce turns to the counter behind her and picks up a plate, handing it to Steve. His brows furrow, and he hesitantly takes the offered crockery.

“How did you-“

“I had a feeling,” she interrupts him with a wink. “Now go on before Hop burns the yard down.”

Steve smiles and goes back outside, handing the plate to Hop and ignoring his grumble of “took ya long enough”, before picking his beer back up and taking a much needed swig. A few minutes later, they’re all eating. Eddie has joined Dustin and Lucas in their rambling, all three of them loudly talking over one another. Steve watches them; wishing, wanting, yearning. Joyce bumps her shoulder into his, making him swivel his head to look down at her. She smiles, almost knowingly, and Steve blushes. He clears his throat and looks away, focusing on fixing his burger rather than whatever the fuck that was.

He sits alone away from the group, catching occasional glances from Joyce, Dustin, and Hopper. Joyce is concerned, he can tell that much, and part of her almost looks sad. Dustin looks conflicted, like he can’t decide if he wants to be mad from a distance or just come right up to Steve and say it to his face. Steve wouldn’t be surprised if he did the latter. Hopper, to Steve’s complete unsurprise, looks uninterested and, frankly, fed up with this whole situation. Steve doesn’t blame him, he is too.

After the food is gone, and dessert is served, Steve heads inside to help clean up. He washes dishes quietly with Joyce, while she dries them and puts them away. As he finishes up the last plate, Will comes into the kitchen.

“Hey, Mom? The party wanted to play some board games, is that okay?” He requests, and Steve can feel Joyce soften beside him. She smiles.

“Of course, honey. Make sure you ask the girls what they want to play, too, okay?” Will rolls his eyes and smiles, a mannerism Steve notes he definitely got from Mike.

“Got it, Mom,” he replies, and runs off. Steve turns back to the sink, realizing he’s been scrubbing the plate well past the point of clean, and rinses it off.

“I um.. I think I’m going to head out, Ms. Byers,” he begins. He hands the plate to her. “I’ve got a shift tomorrow and uh… I don’t want to intrude or anything.”

He doesn’t mention that he doesn’t want to repeat the last game night, where everyone kept glancing at him like he was a bomb set to explode at any moment. He doesn’t say that he can’t handle their stares for any longer than he already has.

“Oh, are you sure? You’re welcome to stay here as long as you want to,” Joyce offers, but Steve shakes his head.

“I really should be going, sorry.”

“Alright, dear. Let me walk you out,” she insists, moving to take off her apron.

“I’ll walk him out, Joyce, don’t worry about it,” Hopper's gruff voice interrupts from the doorway. Steve swallows and nods, drying his hands off on a towel. He looks at Joyce, seeing her share a glance and a smile with Hopper before looking back at him. He smiles, finally beginning to think that maybe… maybe things will be okay.

“Thank you, Ms. Byers. For everything,” he expresses. He leans down to give her a hug, her arms quickly hugging him back.

“It’s alright, dear. You come to me if you ever want to talk, you hear?” Steve pulls away from the hug.

“I will, promise,” he hesitates. Steve looks down at his hands, shaking from where they’re clutching each other, and takes a breath. “I… I love you too.”

He looks up right as Joyce pulls him into another hug. He laughs a little, and she pats his back before pulling away with a “be safe”. Hopper clears his throat from the door and Steve takes a step back, nods to Joyce, and follows the other man outside.

They step out on the front porch together, and Steve is prepared to continue walking to his car when Hop places a hand on his shoulder. He stops, and turns to find the man looking at him seriously.

“Son, I want you to promise me something,” he grumbles, and Steve begins to feel a strange sense of deja vu. While Joyce’s tone was soft, Hopper’s is deep and leaves no room for hesitation. He vaguely has a thought that this is what his father would have been like if things were different. If he were different. Steve nods.

“Promise me you’ll fix our shit, alright? I don’t wanna get in the middle of… whatever the hell this is but promise you’ll be better, okay?” He commands, and all the thoughts Steve had earlier about thinking things would be okay fly out the window.

“Y-yes, sir,” he stutters out. Hop claps his shoulder, mumbles a “get home safe”, before pulling a pack of smokes out his pocket and lighting one up. Steve turns, shoves his shaking hands in his pockets, and walks to his car.

Getting in his car is a blur of unconscious actions. He’s driving down a barely lit backroad when he registers that his eyes are stinging, and something warm and wet is dripping down his cheeks. He pulls over on the side of the road, shifting his car into park, and he sits there. He reaches up with a shaky hand and wipes his cheek, his hand coming back wet and shining in the faint glow of the moon. The sight breaks him, and an ugly sob rips its way out his throat. He chokes on an inhale as tears fight their way out, and he hugs his arms around himself as a sad semblance of comfort. His forehead finds purchase on the steering wheel, and his tears stain the leather before dripping on his lap.

He cries because he knows he’s the problem, that he’s the one fucking up. He cries because everyone thinks so, everyone knows. The kids know. Eddie knows. Joyce knows, but she’s just too kind to say it to his face. Hell, even Hopper knows. He cries because he doesn’t know what he did wrong. He cries because he doesn’t think anyone really wants him to fix it.

It’s the second time on a drive home from the Byers-Hopper house that he has to pull over and cry.

He struggles to inhale a deep breath and sits up, harshly wiping his tears away with his hand, uncaring that it rubs his skin raw and red. Sniffling, he puts his car in drive and goes home. Toeing his shoes off at the door is the only thing he thinks to do before he stumbles his way upstairs and collapses on his bed, snuggling into the thin comforter and falling into a fitful sleep.

After a slow shift at Family Video the next day, Steve returns to the darkness of his home with a plan. He can still be useful. They may not have to know, but he can still do something to help. To try and save them before they need to be saved. He can be a preventative measure for them, can stop them from getting hurt before they even know they’re in danger.

He shrugs off his work vest, throwing it on his desk chair as he searches his closet for an old sweatshirt. He finds one, the front adorned with white block letters that read ‘Tigers Swim Team’ and tugs it on. His nail bat finds purchase in his hand as he tucks a flashlight in his back pocket. The walkie Dustin gave him is hooked in his belt loop, just in case. He leaves all the lights on in the house and shuts the door, skirting around his house to begin his walk in the woods.

After four bouts with the Upside Down, he doubts that they’re in the clear, that it’s finally over. He thought it was the first time, then the second, and by the third he was skeptical. Now, though, he doesn’t know what to think. He wouldn’t be surprised if there was a round five, or six, or seven. Hell, he wouldn’t be surprised if it never stopped. But each and every time, they were unprepared. They were surprised, and it nearly cost them every time. But if Steve could prevent that surprise, give them all a heads up before it becomes a big problem, then maybe— just maybe— it’ll come in handy. He’ll come in handy. He’ll be useful again.

So, he walks the woods of Hawkins. His feet crunch the dead leaves piled underneath trees as he trudges through the woods. The flashlight shines long shadows on the ground in front of him, lighting up the pale gray bark of trees and making the eyes of rodents and raccoons shine amber and red.

A rustle sounds a few feet away and he jumps at the noise. He pauses and stands still, listening for the shrill chittering of demodogs or the heavy, thudding footsteps of a demogorgon. He waits, and his flashlight reveals a small fox walking out from behind a tree. He lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and continues walking.

His feet carry him to Lover’s Lake, the water lapping lazily at the shore with the warm summer breeze. Out here, the lights from town are distant, making the stars shine brightly and reflect in the water. Steve stands there, watches as the artificial light of his flashlight reveals the small ripples on the surface of the water, and waits.

He waits for a lumbering figure to emerge out of the murky depths, to claw its way onto the shore and stalk off into the woods. He waits for chirps muffled by water and splashing to sound in his ears as four-legged creatures swim to the beaches. He waits for the screeches of demonic bats to echo off the trees around him as they fly out of the water and take to the sky. He waits, but it never comes. The lake stays silent.

So he walks.

He follows the road leading to the lake out, letting it take him to the highway that leads out of town. His feet stop as they come across a crack in the road, the crack he took in the other world to get Eddie home safely. The crack that is closed over with black tar, leaving a dark line on the ashen gray asphalt. He remembers clawing his way out of that crack, Eddie’s lifeless body over his shoulders as he slowly bled out.

Nancy had driven her station wagon over, opening the back so he could lay Eddie down as they rode to the hospital. She had asked Steve to drive so she could patch him up, but he refused. He couldn’t leave Eddie, not when he finally got him out. Not when he was barely hanging on. So she threw the first aid kit she had stashed in her car at him and drove to the hospital. Steve had done his best to stop the bleeding, the stark white cloth immediately turning red when he pressed it to Eddie’s skin. They almost lost him. But they didn’t. He’s alive.

Eddie. Eddie.

His head swivels to the forest next to him, the one that leads straight to the trailer park, and he runs. He jumps over fallen trees, feet thudding against the dry earth and leaves as his breath picks up. Orange street lights shine through branches as he draws nearer, and he only slows his pace when he breaks out from the line of trees. His feet swiftly take him to the sight of Eddie’s old trailer, the vacant lot standing out against the fullness of the park. The wooden front steps are still there, partially broken and shifted. The grass has yet to grow in fully, bare spots of dirt showing through the green. His shoes crunch on the gravel as he takes a step closer, inspecting the ground and poking at it with his bat as if it would move. As if the gate would open up just by him being here.

It doesn’t. Steve steps back.

He turns to leave the park, eyes wandering and finding a familiar cream-colored van parked at a trailer a few rows away. Eddie and his Uncle were granted a new trailer for their trouble, really the bare minimum they deserve after all the shit they went through, but they took it in stride. Eddie and Wayne spent the first few weeks after spring break making it into their new home once Eddie was released from the hospital, and Steve had done his best to help them out. But he knew they needed time alone, time to heal, so he let them be. He hasn’t been back there since then.

He kicks a stray piece of gravel, watching as it tumbles a few feet away and disappears into the grass, as he makes his way out of Forest Hills. Houses blur by as he walks the residential streets, only stopping when his own comes into view. Steve sighs, and walks up the concrete driveway, through the large wooden doors, and into the silence of his house. He doesn’t bother taking off his shoes, reveling a little in the dirty footprints he leaves behind on his mothers’ ornate runner that covers the length of the hallway. The analog on the stove tells him it's a little past three in the morning, and he sighs. Grabbing a glass from the cabinet, he fills it up with water before shuffling out of the kitchen. He flops on the couch, sips his water, and waits.

He waits for the sun to peek over the trees in the backyard, casting long shadows on the curtains that cover the windows and glass doors. He waits for the warm rays to shine through the large window in the living room, the one that faces the road, and light up the rug that rests under the coffee table in soft hues of yellow. He sits his empty glass on the table. He waits. And he gets up.

He goes upstairs, changes his shirt, and grabs his vest. Steve slips the walkie off his belt loop and places it on his desk, the flashlight landing right beside it. He props the bat next to his chair, and Steve looks at it, looks at the bent nails sticking haphazardly out of the wood and how it splintered in places from too much force. How some of the nails are covered in dried, blackened goop and dirt. How it's sharp and dangerous, a weapon. How it’s chosen to protect.

At this moment, Steve feels like the bat. The rough wood is his exterior, the splinters through it are the cracks. The holes in his facade. The places where people got too close, where people hurt him. The nails are what makes him strong. They’re the kids, Joyce and Hop, Eddie and Robin. They’re his family. They mold him into a weapon meant to protect, to keep them safe.

But just like Steve, the bat isn’t needed until it’s necessary. Until the world is ending. But until that time comes, the bat is left out of sight. It’s hidden away, moved from place to place just in case, but never used. Never wanted.

Steve walks out the door.

His shift at Family Video passes by like every other day, slow and full of know-it-all customers that never seem to understand that he can’t magically summon movies out of his ass whenever they ask. Robin comes in around lunchtime, and they spend the rest of their joint shift making fun of the ridiculous movie covers that adorn various romcoms. He goes home alone, sheds his vest, and once again walks the town of Hawkins.

He does it again the next night. And the night after that. And the night after that. Until it’s been a week and Steve hasn’t slept for more than a couple hours a night. He doesn’t mind, just means there’s less nightmares to wake him up before sunrise.

Less nights where chittering and the thuds of heavy footsteps strike fear down to his core. Less nights where the chill of fog and night air pierce his skin, warring with his senses against the hot breath hitting the back of his neck from deadly flower-shaped mouths. Less nights where the harsh scraping of monstrous nails against rusted metal and the echoey bangs of heavy, meaty bodies against solid bus walls fill his ears. Less nights where he can feel the thick, choking air of the tunnels, can feel the wispy particles filling his lungs and coating the inside of his mouth.

Less nights filled with muffled Russian echoing in his ears, the harsh texture of rope around his wrists, arms, and chest. Less nights where the sickening crunch of fists against bone and the metallic taste of blood in his mouth linger for hours after he’s awoken, shallowly breathing and pleading to be let go. Less nights where he can feel the blood in his teeth, coating his tongue and dripping down the back of his throat, and he has to run to the bathroom to puke the phantom feeling away.

Less nights he wakes up alone, empty house hollow around him. Less nights he cries to himself in the silence of his room, wishing, hoping, yearning for something. For something to happen, to change. For something to get better. For him to get better.

On the eighth night, he finds his feet have taken him to the edge of Hawkins. The brown road sign reads ‘Leaving Hawkins! Come Again Soon!’, and it stares at him from a few feet away. He looks past the sign at the stretch of road that disappears around a curve, trees following the line of asphalt and distant street lights lighting up their leaves with an orange glow.

He thinks about what it would be like to leave Hawkins, to pack up his clothes in his car and leave town. To follow the road and go around that curve, to not worry about ever coming back. No one needs him here, not anymore, so what’s holding him back?

Maybe this will fix him.

Robin might miss him for a bit, probably curse him and his whole family when she figures it out, but she’ll move on. She’ll find someone better. Hell, she’ll probably go to Eddie too. They already have some sort of secret friendship thing going on between them anyway. Really, he wouldn’t blame her.

Eddie probably wouldn’t care. Shit, he might even throw a party celebrating the fact that he’s gone. Steve snorts at the thought, closing his eyes and taking a breath.

Would it really be so bad if he just disappeared?

But then there’s the kids, left behind with no one to protect them. Sure, Robin and Eddie and Nancy are here, but Nancy is off to Emerson in the fall, Robin surely bound to follow in similar footsteps, and Eddie has made it well-known that he’s getting the hell out of here. If everyone is gone, who will be here to protect them when it comes back?

He rakes a hand harshly through his hair, pulling a bit at the ends and hating how greasy it feels on his fingertips. He can’t think like that, he’ll just worry himself into a panic and that’s the last thing he needs right now; a panic attack on the side of the road. He turns around, walking back towards town as the sky fades into light. He gets home right when sunlight begins burning the tops of the trees and collapses on the couch, sleeping until his noon shift.

He’s exhausted when he gets home, having to close up Family Video after a ten hour shift by himself, but he knows he can’t sleep. Not now. So he does what he usually does now when he gets home and grabs his essentials for his rounds, something that’s become routine for him.

He shrugs off his work clothes, replacing it with what has become his patrol outfit; the old swim team sweatshirt and a faded, ripped pair of light blue jeans. The sweatshirt is filled with holes, the baggy sleeves having caught on briars and branches alike, that allow the white of his shirt to show through. The jeans share a similar fate, the knees scraped up and the denim fraying from the unhemmed edges.

His white Nikes are stained a gray-ish brown from the nightly treks through the woods, small bits of leaves and debris sticking to the laces and in the grooves of the tread. The flashlight finds its place in his back left pocket, an extra pair of batteries landing in his front pocket after an incident a few nights ago where his flashlight died on him out in the middle of nowhere— he was forced to stumble through the woods until the sun began to rise and he was able to find his way back home. He didn’t sleep that night.

The nail bat is crusted with dried bits of mud sticking to the slowly rusting metal, shredded bits of leaves and undergrowth tangled in a green and brown mass. Clumps of dirt litter the floor under the bat, and likely mark a line in the hallway from his room down to the front door. Steve hopes it's still there if his parents come home.

It’s dark outside, only the street light at the end of the driveway illuminates the concrete and stepping stone pathway to the front door. Steve steps out on the front stoop, taking a deep breath of cool summer night air, and starts walking.

He walks out onto the street, uncaring at this point if anyone sees him or not. What does he have to lose? Hopper would probably tell him he’s stupid— something he’s well aware of at this point— and tell him to go inside. Or maybe he would drive him home, take the bat, and leave.

A small, traitorous part of Steve wants Hop to find him. Wants him to ask what the hell he’s doing walking around at night alone in the dark. Wants him to coax him in his old beat up truck and take him back to the Byers’ house. Wants some of Joyce’s hot chocolate as he sits on the couch and explains what he’s been doing, what’s been going on. Ask, desperately, why everyone hates him. Wants them to tell him he’s wrong, that no one hates him. That it’s just a misunderstanding.

But it doesn’t happen. All of that is a lie.

It’s a lie Steve has secretly been telling himself under the cover of darkness alone in his bed, lying awake and exhausted but unable to sleep. It’s a lie he tells himself when he sees any of the kids so he can act normal, act okay. It’s a lie he tells himself when Eddie grins at him, wide and gleaming, eyes sparkling with the afternoon sun beaming in from the storefront windows.

It’s those grins, those looks Eddie gives him sometimes that almost convinces him the lie is fake. Like Eddie is sharing an inside joke with him, only Steve doesn’t know what it is. Eddie doesn’t come around often but when he does… god, it’s like he’s the only one in the room.

Eddie looks at him with his whole body, always focusing on him so wholly and touching in some way. A hand on his bicep, an arm slung around his shoulder, even his arms wrapped around his waist one time. He was friendly, they were friends, until he wasn’t. Until Steve did something stupid that he still can’t figure out and Eddie is avoiding him.

The crunch of gravel under his sole brings him back into his head a little. He looks up, finding the pale orange glow of a lamp through a trailer window, and curses. His feet have brought him to where his mind always seems to go these days: Eddie.

He stands outside of the trailer, watching the way the little bits of weeds around the base shift and sway in the wind. The sky is filled with patches of clouds, light gray ripples standing out against the black sky from the glow of the moon. Steve isn’t completely sure how he got here, only that he started walking and didn’t really… stop.

Wayne’s truck is gone, leaving only Eddie’s cream-colored van among the gravel and grass. Which means Eddie is home and, judging by the light in the window, awake. Steve has a fleeting thought that he should turn around, walk back home, and try to forget he ever came here. Try to forget that he didn’t mean to, that his head and his heart are traitorous beings that have conspired against him to bring his body to the one place— one person— where he isn’t welcome. He tries to move, to will his legs and his feet to catch up with his brain and the urge to run. But they don’t. They stay frozen to the ground, rooted in place as if they belong here. As if he belongs here.

A voice cuts his thoughts off, one that he could pick out in a crowd full of people. His eyes snap to the front door of the trailer, now open and spilling warm light onto the wooden steps that lead down to the gravel drive. A figure grows near, tall and lanky and Steve feels like he’s trapped. His thoughts get louder, yelling and screaming at him to run run ruN RUN RUN-

Hands on his shoulders. Eddie’s face in front of him.

Eddie looks panicked, his dark eyes wide and dancing around as if searching Steve's face for… something. He must not find it, because the two little lines between his brows appear and his mouth starts moving. It’s all muffled, like he’s trying to talk through glass. Steve blinks.

“-ington? Steve,” Eddie’s pleading voice finds his ears as he shakes his shoulders, the fog in his head dissipating as the strained way his name falls from his lips. Steve hums. He blinks again.

“Oh,” he breathes out, voice barely louder than a whisper. Eddie is here. He’s in front of him. He can see him. He’s here and he can see and Steve shouldn’t be here he needs to go-

“Stevie, are you okay?” The fear in Eddie’s voice cuts off his train of thought— something that seems to happen a lot nowadays— and Steve feels every sensation return to his body. The heavy hands on his shoulders, soft and warm and missing their signature rings. The distant chill of the night air on his exposed bits of skin seeping away at the small amount of space between them. The faint puff of air on his face from the man before him. The fact that all of those things are from Eddie.

Steve clears his throat, swallows. Tries to focus his eyes on Eddie’s face.

“I’m fine, Eddie. I um.. sorry,” he trails off. He tries to smile, at least give something to reassure him, to keep him from asking questions. Steve doesn’t think he could answer them.

To his surprise, Eddie lets out a breath of relief, the fear dissipating from his eyes as they clench shut and his head drops. His shoulders move with his lungs as he takes a breath before looking back up at him.

“Jesus H. Christ, you scared the shit outta me, Steve. Thought…” he trails off. His voice wavers. “Thought you were gone. Like… like her.”

Oh. Chrissy. Fuck.

“Shit- sorry, Eds, I didn’t even realize- fuck, I’m so sorry,” Steve pleads. He takes in his surroundings, realizes he’s been standing out here, alone, for who knows how long. He needs to leave. “I-I should go.”

Eddie’s brows furrow, and he tilts his head. “You don’t have to leave, Stevie, it’s fi-“ he cuts himself off.

Steve looks up at that, unsure of when he stopped looking at Eddie, and takes in his pinched expression. The one that’s trained to the ground. The one that’s trained towards-

“What the fuck is this?”

Shit.

“I-it’s not what it looks like, I swear!” He begs, voice sounding unfamiliar even to his own ears. It’s raspy and breaks after a few words. When was the last time he really spoke to anyone today?

“I don’t wanna hurt you, Eds, I really don’t- please, believe me,” he pleads. “It’s just for protection! I don’t-“

“Why are you covered in mud, Steve?” Eddie cuts him off, voice strange and cautious and his hands tighten their grip on his shoulders. Steve knows he doesn’t look the best, knows that his clothes are dirty, but he looks down at himself anyway. His eyes focus on a leaf stuck to his shoelace. He shrugs.

Eddie moves in front of him, a quick thing that Steve suspects is him shaking his head. He mumbles something he can’t hear, voice only a rumble in his throat but Steve knows enough to know that people only talk under their breath when they’re mad. When he’s done something wrong.

He pulls away. Eddie’s hands drop off his shoulders.

“I-I should go. Sorry for bothering you, an-… and keeping you awake,” Steve stutters out, clearing his throat when his voice breaks. He chances a look at him, finding concern written on Eddie’s face. It softens when they make eye contact, and Eddie shakes his head.

“I wasn’t asleep, Stevie. Don’t really, uh.. sleep much, these days. I usually just wait around for Wayne to get home to catch a couple hours. Doesn’t feel safe here by myself, you know?” Eddie confesses, mouth turned upwards in a small, sardonic smile. Steve nods. He does know, he’s never felt safe in his home. With or without people. He’s been going through it for years, long before the events of ‘83. He doesn’t say any of that though, doesn’t think he has the right to.

Eddie steps towards him, closing the bit of distance Steve made between the two, and rests his hand on the arm holding the bat.

“Come inside, Steve,” Eddie requests, voice low and soft. Eddie’s smiling at him. It’s that soft, small, Eddie smile. One that Steve has only seen a handful of times. It’s asking him to say yes, and Steve… he’s weak. So, so weak.

“Okay.”

Eddie’s smile grows.

His hand wraps further around his arm, tugging him towards the open trailer door and Steve feels betrayed that now is when his feet decide to move. He follows Eddie, watching the way he’s glancing at him the entire time. Eddie pauses at the doorway.

“Steve,” he whispers, and Steve looks at him. His hand travels down his arm, causing goosebumps in its wake despite the layer of fabric between their skin. It pauses over the hand still gripping the bat, thumb brushing along his knuckles. “Let it go.”

Steve looks at him, searches those dark brown eyes for fear or hate or anger but finds none. He only finds care. Concern. Love.

It’s terrifying.

He loosens his grip and Eddie takes it from him, the comforting weight of the bat replaced with the warmth of Eddie’s hand. He props it just inside the door to the trailer and leads him over the threshold by the grip on his hand. He’s led over to the couch where a hand on his back urges him to sit down. Steve does, and instantly sinks into the well-worn cushions.

“I’ll be right back, okay? Just gonna get you some water,” Eddie informs him, squeezing his hand briefly before releasing his grip and turning the corner to venture into the kitchen. Steve watches him go, the way the baggy and worn band shirt hangs off his frame. The way his sweatpants are bunched up at the ankle as if they’re too big for him. The way his hair is pulled into a messy bun at the back of his head that swings a little when he walks away. Even now, he’s beautiful.

Shit. He’s so gone for this man.

Eddie returns with a glass of water and flops down on the couch beside him, pressing the cool surface of the cup into his palm. He takes it with a shaky hand, his other joining it to help stabilize the glass. It doesn’t work.

He takes a small sip of water, the liquid feeling like heaven against his dry throat. They sit in silence until Steve finishes half the glass. Then, Eddie speaks.

“Why were you outside at two in the morning, Stevie?” His voice is gentle, and it makes Steve want to cry. He swallows.

“I- I don’t know,” he deflects, lies. Anything to not talk about it.

The harsh sound of a mock game show buzzer startles him, and he turns to find Eddie with his hands cupped around his mouth. Steve grins and lets his head drop, and Eddie nudges his shoulder. He takes a deep breath, focusing on the surface of the water in his hands.

“I have to keep them safe, Eddie,” he confesses. Eddie stays silent, hand gently rubbing his forearm. “It’s what I need to do. What I have to do.”

Silence stretches between them, then, “who, Steve? Who do you have to keep safe?”

‘You,’ he wants to say. ‘You almost died. It’s never been that close before, not in the four years this shit has been going on. You and Max almost died, and I wasn’t there to protect you. I wasn’t with you and Dustin to keep you both safe, to help fight off the bats and urge you through the gate. I wasn’t with Max and Lucas and Erica, wasn’t there to fight off Carver and save Max just a little bit earlier. I wasn’t there, but I should have been. Carver should have beat me to pieces, not Lucas. It should have been me the bats got to, not you. It should have been me, it should have been me, it should have been me.’

Hands fall over his as Eddie takes the glass from him. He didn’t realize his hands were shaking that bad in his revere, causing the water to spill over the sides and onto the brown carpet below them. The glass thunks on the coffee table before Eddie rests his hands over Steve’s, stills their shaking.

“Hey, talk to me, Stevie,” he practically begs. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

Steve looks at him, sees the worry in his eyes, and wets his lips with his tongue. Doesn’t miss the way Eddie’s eyes flicker down at the movement. He clenches his fists.

“Please don’t tell Robin,” he pleads. If she found out about this, if she knew, he wouldn’t be allowed outside alone ever again. She would worry about him, keep him under lock and key to make sure he wouldn’t do anything stupid. She would stay with him during the night, insert herself firmly by his side until she was sure he was okay. She would make him sleep in his own bed, trapped between his own walls. Trapped in his own house. He can’t stand that place, can’t handle the echoey walls and empty rooms. Can’t stand not being able to do anything for anyone. Can’t stand to be useless.

He’s just wasting time right now. He shouldn’t be here, talking to Eddie, when he could be checking the gates. He should be out there trying to save people, not himself. He should be trying to save his family. He could already be too late. It might have already come back while he was distracted and they could all be gone. It could have been waiting until he was occupied, waiting for an opening to strike. They could be in danger right now. They could be dead.

“Alright, I can do that. I won’t tell her but… Steve, why-“ Steve cuts him off by standing up on shaky legs, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. “Steve?”

“I need to go, Eddie, I need to- they could- I need to go,” the words tumble out of his mouth, words he isn’t quite sure even make sense but he doesn’t care. He just needs to get out.

Steve walks over to the door, eyes locking on the bat propped there, before he hears Eddie stand up behind him. He turns to find Eddie holding his hands out in front of him like he’s trying to placate a wild animal and, at this moment, he kinda feels like one. His heart is beating too fast and he can feel his breathing quicken. His throat closes up as panic claws its way upwards and clouds his vision, muffling his hearing. Eddie’s mouth moves but Steve can’t hear it through the cotton in his ears. He backs towards the door, hating the fear in Eddie’s eyes as he does so.

His back hits the wall next to the door and he turns, hand finding the rough wood of the bat almost instantly, before he runs out the door. The small “sorry” he lets out is an afterthought, thrown over his shoulder right before the trailer door slams shut behind him and his feet crunch on gravel as he runs towards town.

His blind panic takes him to Dustin’s house first, finding all the lights turned off save for the faint glow of the hall night light through sheer curtains. He stays there for a minute or two, waiting for the sign of flickering lights. Nothing comes.

A couple streets over, he stops in front of Lucas’s house, finds the same thing. Dark. He stands there and waits. No flickering. He runs.

The Wheelers. Dark. He waits, no flickering. He runs.

The Byers-Hoppers. Dark. Waits. No flickering. Runs.

Max. Dark. Waits. Dark. Runs.

Robin. Dark. Waits. Dark. Runs.

His house. Light.

They’re safe. He collapses.

He sits heavily on the front stoop, bat falling to the ground and knocking against the concrete with a thud. His knees come up to his chest and his arms wrap tightly around them as he rasps for breath, the air coming in short, quick bursts. His fingers dig into the soft flesh of his calves, hard enough to leave bruises. His forehead rests heavily on his knees and his eyes sting, welling with tears as the fear slowly fades away.

He sits outside, struggling for breath until the sun begins to rise, and waits. When the sun finds its way over the trees, he makes his way inside to get ready for his opening shift.

The bat finds a new home in his trunk.

Taglist: @tea-beloved @starry-eyedlune @hyperfixationgoddess @zerokrox-blog @nicovania @invisibleflame812 @chaoticvictorianspirit @justforthedead89 @dacremontgomeryay @vhelt @adhdsummer @nerd-and-nervous @i-have-three-feelings @mimicori @remuslupinisthevoiceofgod @solliesolesito @romanticdestruction @vanillatwist @bowl-o-queerios @grimmfitzz

(If you want to be added or removed please let me know!)

#steddie #stranger things #pre steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things fillet #stranger things drabble #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #things get better for Steve i promise #hes just having his angsty time right now #robins part is next tho so stay tuned for that #disposable heroes

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steddiealltheway · 2 years

Text

Imagine the whole scrunchie thing becomes super popular where people wear their partner’s scrunchies (idk how to phrase/explain it. Hear me out.)

Steve witnesses it emerge among the kids when Max buys a matching plaid trio set for her, El, and Lucas. She tries to shrug it off as not being a big deal but Lucas and El are SO excited to wear them.

Dustin comes to Steve for advice on the perfect scrunchie to send to Suzie. They settle on one that has lyrics from “A Never Ending Story” sewn into it.

Mike steals one from Nancy making some bullshit excuse about how his hair is too long and he needs to put it up. It “magically” appears on Will’s wrist later that day. Max jokes that people are going to think that Will is dating Nancy which sends Mike into a full spiral, and he gives in and uses the little amount of money he has to buy Will a yellow and blue one.

Robin comes running to Steve one day talking a mile a minute about how Nancy gave her one of her scrunchies, and she doesn’t know if it means something or if she wanted Robin to put her hair up. Steve calmly tells her that Nancy definitely was making a move. Robin absolutely has an excited breakdown.

Even Hopper has a plain brown scrunchie that appears on his wrist one day that Joyce usually wears in her hair.

Then, it happens to Steve. One day, he’s hanging out with Eddie in his backyard who casually asks him to hold his black scrunchie with little silver bats on it. Steve slips it on his wrist as Eddie winks and immediately dives into his pool.

Steve doesn’t even flinch as Eddie belly flops. As Eddie breaks the surface, Steve yells out, “What did we say about your impulse control?”

“It’s a bad influence if I don’t control it around the kids. But I don’t see them anywhere,” Eddie says floating on his back, clothes clinging to his body.

“Practice makes perfect,” Steve says, then sighs. “I’ll get you some clothes.”

It’s not until Eddie leaves later that night in Steve’s borrowed clothes that Steve realizes Eddie forgot his scrunchie.

He doesn’t think it’s a big deal until he’s around Nancy, Robin, and the kids. Will is the first one who spots the scrunchie and points it out.

Dustin immediately recognizes it and starts screaming, “You’re dating Eddie?!”

All the other kids start joining in on yelling, but to Steve’s surprise, all of them are yelling some form of “congratulations” or “finally!”

When Steve wordlessly makes his way to Nancy and Robin, Nancy smiles and says, “I’m really glad Eddie finally told you how he felt.”

“Me too, I could barely stand it!” Robin says, “I’ve been keeping this crush a secret for weeks, Steve, weeks.”

Steve nods expressionless.

“You okay?” Nancy questions.

“I just need some air,” Steve says immediately heading up the basement steps. He makes his way to the front door which swings open, and Steve suddenly has an armful of Eddie.

“I’m so sorry- Steve? Sorry, man,” Eddie apologizes and then really looks at him. “You okay?”

“You like me?” Steve asks.

“I- what?” Eddie replies, blood draining from his face.

Steve holds up his scrunchie clad wrist. “You left this, and then the kids assumed we were dating. Then, uh, Nancy may have told me you had - or have - feelings for me.”

Eddie stares at Steve for a few seconds before stalking over to sit on the couch, putting his head in his hands. “This is not good, this is not good, this is not good…” Eddie mumbles to himself.

Steve closes the front door and makes his way over to where Eddie is sitting. “Is it true?”

Eddie sits up and pushes the hair away from his face. He looks Steve in the eye and says, “Yes.”

Steve nods and takes it in. Eddie likes him. Eddie likes him.

Eddie’s holds his hand out in front of Steve as if asking for Steve to give him something.

“What’s this for?” Steve asks.

“I’d like my scrunchie back, please,” Eddie says tensely.

“But what if I don’t want to give it back?” Steve rushes out.

Eddie blinks. “What?”

“What if…” Steve trails off and takes a deep breath, “What if I like you, too?”

Eddie freezes. “Huh?”

“What if I liked you, too, and what if I didn’t correct anyone about us dating?”

Eddie looks down at the scrunchie and says, “But what if I really like that scrunchie?”

Steve bursts out laughing. “That’s your issue?”

“It’s a custom made scrunchie, Steve! It has little bats on it!” Eddie replies.

Steve continues to laugh which encourages Eddie to join him.

After the laughter dies down, Eddie asks, “You really like me?”

“Yes.”

Eddie takes Steve’s hand in his and dramatically says, “Then, I guess you can keep this for now.”

“For now?”

“I told you I really like that one!” Eddie exclaims, tugging jealously at the band around Steve’s wrist.

“You’re really something, you know that?”

“Something? I thought I was your boyfriend,” Eddie says with a cheesy smile.

Steve rolls his eyes and huffs, “I’m going to regret accidentally keeping this, aren’t I?”

“Absolutely,” Eddie promises with a big smile.

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie ficlet #slight ronance #slight byler #slight elumax #slight jopper

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fourtyforever · 29 days

Text

Get in losers were making a fic rec masterlist

Hi y’all it’s me, your local multishipper, and I’m about to be the change I wish to see in the world by putting all the best f1 fics in one place.

Maxiel

cool things to say to your soulmate by @powerful-owl (E, 14k)

A collection of shorter soulmate stories by the great em powerfulowl. Essentially the maxiel thesis as far as I’m concerned. If you ever catch me talking about the goose fic, this is what I’m talking about. Fun story: this was actually the first F1 rpf I ever read and I blame it for why my standards are so fantastically high.

Thursday girl by @boxboxlewis (M, 3k)

Max is outed by the press. Shocking emotional impact to word ratio and off the charts tenderness. Short and sweet and low key a comfort read to me.

the being unknown by anonymous (E, 12k)

Body swap with really unique and emotional vibes. Ngl this one hurt me (in the best way). A fantastic and heart-wrenching take on the horrors of 2022.

Charlos

win or lose (it’s how you play the game) by @f1-stuff (E, 18k)

Hickey bet between charles and carlos. Cannot get over this fic for as long as I live: the silliness is off the charts, the vibes are literally the most perfectly balanced tenderhorny I’ve ever read and the writing is just really that good. I think about this fic minimum once a day.

last night by venerat (E, 24k)

College au. Ngl this one is just especially spicy, but also very very funny and fully captivating top to bottom (see what I did there? haha). Also a great ensemble cast here, which I always love.

Once more (before we die) by @f1-stuff (M, 6k)

Fantasy AU where charlos are princes of warring kingdoms. I love this AU and I love the tenderness between Charles and Carlos that we get out of it. I’m usually not really an AU type of gal but this one really did change my mind.

Playing games by @vegasgrandprix (T, 4K)

Gay chicken. WIP, but I can already tell so clearly exactly where this is going and that is delightful to me. Honestly this really is how they act like 90% of the time already.

Yukierre

match made in heaven by venerat (T, 4K)

Pierre is yuki’s matchmaker. this one is just so sweet and sooooo silly. Comfort read 100%

Loscar

Are they gay or European? (the answer is both) by periwinkle_bumper_cars (T, 30k)

Logan keeps walking in on other drivers in compromising positions. 100% balls to the wall silliness from beginning to end and just completely delightful the whole time. Background carlando, kmag/hulkenberg, brocedes, maxiel, and honestly the ensemble cast is what takes this one from great to top tier.

Landoscar

By a thread by @mctwinkdom (E, 32k)

The classic Australian thongs misunderstanding (gone sexual). Incredibly silly, amazingly hot and honestly a top-tier character study of both Oscar and Lando. A great study in unreliable narration as well (probably part of what accounts for my previous point).

carried away by orphan account (E, 22k)

Fake dating. Honestly this one got me in my feels so much more than I expected from the premise. Sweet and a little bit angsty and just a delightful read all the way down.

Strollonso

green light, red wine (and I don’t feel fine) by @vicsy (E, 19k)

Mafia AU where lance is the son of Fernando’s arch nemesis. THEE strollonso fic of all time I tell you. Unparalleled characterization on the part of both nando and lance, fantastic ensemble cast, FANTASTIC writing, and off the charts unreal spiciness. If you haven’t read this yet then what are you doing

El dick plan by @waddlingpenguin (E, 800)

Lance says ‘daddy,’ both Fernando and Lawrence answer. Short, sweet and SILLY.

camera roll by @penaltyboxboxbox (E, 5k)

Sexting/sex tapes. Overall nice and spicy and just fantastic characterization. Also absolutely crucial is the companion art also by dave penaltyboxboxbox which is literally like the ice cream on top of the cake for such a wonderful fic

silver platter by @wewentcarracing (E, 10k)

getting together fic featuring long suffering estie bestie. Honestly the fic is amazing and spicy and just so well written but Esteban’s ever growing dismay is lowkey my favorite part. Works as a pretty great lance character study as well.

Brocedes

Roseberg’s vs haminkton by @jean----ralphio (E, 16k)

Tattoo artist versus flower shop, except they’re rivals. This is like…just how they are honestly. Absolutely stunning ensemble cast and absolutely hilarious buildup to lewis and Nico finally getting together. Side order of seb just being a massive shit stirrer which honestly I think is the role he belongs in

The real reason nico rosberg retired by periwinkle_bumper_cars (G, 3k)

Secret Santa (gone horribly wrong). This is…..also just how they are unfortunately. The rancidest of vibes but also screeching-out-loud funny.

will be updating this on the reg so stay tuned for more good fics. also maybe if I am very lucky someday I will have my own fics to add to the list. definitely I need to become slightly more insane before I can start writing for this fandom but believe you me I’m well on my way.

#fic rec #f1 fic rec #maxiel #charlos #yukierre #loscar #landoscar #twinklaren #strollonso #brocedes #hope you all enjoy :P

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ladykailitha · 3 months

Text

The Harrington Pattern Part 4

I know I said I was going to wait on posting this one, but it's got the most backlogged chapters so I figured I can at least put out this one for you.

It's extra long, like amount 1000 words longer than my usual. But I didn't want to stop half way through a specific section.

An elf gets his ears, Robin freaks out a bit, and everyone gets a little called out about their pre-conceived notions, but especially Mike.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

****

The day had arrived and Claudia had offered to help get them all there, as Eddie’s van was full and Robin still didn’t have her license. She was in driver’s ed right now, thankfully. Her parents didn’t want her going to college without knowing how.

So Dustin, Will, El, and Mike went with Claudia and Robin, Max, and Lucas went with Steve.

Dustin had wanted to go with Steve, but it didn’t make sense as his mom was the other driver. So he pouted all the way to pick up his friends, but by the time Claudia had picked up Mike Dustin was vibrating in the front seat.

Lucas was picked up last.

He still didn’t have his ears so he looked crestfallen when he answered the door. He was wearing the pirate outfit he had told Steve he had.

“He’s being a piss baby,” Erica muttered. “Something about ears.”

“Erica Jean!” Mrs. Sinclair hissed. “We do not talk about your brother that way.”

Erica crossed her arms and pouted.

“Actually, Mrs. Sinclair,” Steve said with a smile. “I have a solution, but I’m going to need your help.”

Both Lucas and Erica perked up at that. Steve patted his pocket with a wink.

“Of course!” Mrs. Sinclair beamed. “I told you Steve and Eddie were going to come through for you, didn’t I?”

Lucas blushed. “Yes, Mom.”

“Where do we need to be, Steve?” she asked.

“The bathroom would be the best place.”

She nodded and led the way, Lucas in the middle and Steve bringing up the rear.

Steve sat Lucas on the toilet seat and pulled out the thin box Eddie had given him. He opened it up so Mrs. Sinclair could see it first.

“Ooh!” she cooed. “I know just what we need. I’ll be right back.”

Steve turned around so Lucas could see them.

Lucas gasped. “Holy shit! What are they made of?”

“Silicone.”

“Do we need anything to affix the ears, Steve?” Mrs. Sinclair asked from her bedroom. “I have makeup glue if we need.”

“That’s fine, Mrs. Sinclair,” Steve called back. “I have spirit gum.”

She peaked around the corner. “Oh that’s even better!” She had her makeup bag in her hands.

“Actually Lucas,” Steve said eyeing the makeup bag. “Go change into your costume. I don’t want to smear makeup on your costume or accidentally knock off one of the ears and have to start all over.”

Lucas leapt to his feet and dashed out of the room.

“It was really nice of you to do all this for him,” Mrs. Sinclair told Steve in the wake of her son’s cartoon speed cloud. “It’s really made him feel special. To stand out in a way that feels good for a change.”

Steve smiled back at her. “He’s a good kid. It was great that I got to do something nice for him.”

Lucas came back a few minutes later, a blanket covering his costume. When his mom and Steve raised an eyebrow at him he blushed.

“I was worried about the makeup getting on the costume,” he admitted shyly.

Steve patted his shoulder. “I would have put a towel over it. A mom approved towel. I don’t think she’s going to approve that blanket.”

“Absolutely not!” She took off the blanket and handed them a ratty old towel to drape over Lucas’s shoulders.

“Thanks Mrs. S.,” Steve murmured and got to work. He applied the ears and then swapped with Mrs. Sinclair.

She applied makeup to the silicone to blend them to Lucas’s ears.

“All done!” she said triumphantly.

Steve whipped off the towel and pulled Lucas to his feet. He closed the door so that they could use the full length mirror that was on the back. He put his hands over Lucas’s eyes and gently steered him toward the door.

“You ready?” he asked softly.

“Yeah,” Lucas croaked.

Steve uncovered his eyes.

Lucas stared in the mirror for a moment or two.

“Baby?” Mrs. Sinclair asked. “Do you like it?”

Tears streamed down his face as he nodded. “I’m an elf, Mom...”

She hugged him tightly. “Yes you are, sweetie. And the best looking elf at the fair, no doubt.”

He nodded and then wiped his tears.

“How did you do this?” he asked Steve.

Steve smiled. “Jeff makes them.”

Lucas’s jaw dropped. “Oh.”

Mrs. Sinclair cocked her head to the side. “Who’s Jeff?”

“Mom!” Lucas hissed. “I like talk about him all the time! He’s the other black member of Hellfire!”

“Ah,” she said with a smile. “You talk about so many of those boys, I get them mixed up sometimes. But I’m happy he was able to help my baby out.”

Lucas rushed out to show the girls who gasped and oohed over Lucas’s outfit.

“How much did you have to pay for those, Steve?” she asked gently. “They can’t have been cheap.”

Steve shook his head. “Jeff did them for free because he knew what it was like to be told no just because of the color of his skin. So don’t worry about it, okay?”

She nodded and the two of them wandered out into the front room.

“Steve!!” Erica screeched. “I didn’t know you could sew like this!” She waved at Lucas. “What the hell?”

Steve threw back his head and laughed. “You could have come, and maybe would have gotten a cool outfit too. Too late now.”

Erica gasped, wide-eyed that Steve would call her out like this.

Mrs. Sinclair patted her daughter on the head. “You’re the one that wanted to sleep over at Tina’s this weekend, sweetie. Maybe next year.”

Erica couldn’t deny her mother’s logic and was forced to concede. “Fine, but just know I’m going to be grumpy about it.”

Mrs. Sinclair kissed the top of her daughter’s head. “I know, dear.”

“Come on,” Max said, “we’ve admired Lucas long enough, I want to go to this fair, please.”

Lucas and Steve shared a glance. “Uh-oh. She said please, we better go before she gets really mad.”

Max rolled her eyes. “Fuck off.”

Mrs. Sinclair bit her lip as she struggled not to tell the girl off for her language.

Max and Lucas piled into the backseat while Robin and Steve slid upfront.

The closer they got to the where the Renaissance Fair was being held, the more nervous Robin got.

“Steve?” she questioned. “Why are we heading to the burned down mall?”

Steve grinned. “We aren’t.”

Robin bit her lip. “No,” she mumbled. “I rode my bike on this road every day to get to work. This is the way to Starcourt.”

Lucas and Max leaned forward to see the road ahead of them.

“I think she’s right,” Max concluded. “This is the way to Starcourt.”

They pulled into the makeshift parking lot of the fair. It was pretty much a dust field with people in medieval getups directing traffic.

Steve pulled in where he was directed and they all piled out of the Bimmer.

They stood looking out at the field where Starcourt once stood, but was now a bustling center of outdoor activity.

“What the hell?” Robin gasped. “Where is the mall?”

Steve grinned. “This piece of land was always used for passing carnivals and the Renaissance Fair every year. When the mayor sold it to the Russians to build the mall it put a stop to a lot of summer activities the town once enjoyed. So after the earthquake they bulldozed the area and put back the way it was.”

“What did they do with the underground bunker?” Max asked, vaguely interested.

Steve scratched his cheek. “Filled it with uh, cement.”

Lucas and Max shared an appreciative glance and even Robin nodded.

Steve was the first to spot the rest of their group. Dustin, Mike, Will and El were waiting in neat little cluster for them.

Lucas tugged on the hem of his gambeson and ducked his head. Max looked over at him and rolled her eyes.

“They aren’t going to care,” she hissed.

Steve glared at her. “There has been evidence to the contrary regarding this very thing, so zip it.” He mimed zipping his mouth closed.

Max stared at him wide-eyed in shock. Robin tugged on her sleeve.

“Come on,” she told the younger girl. “Let’s got meet up with the others.”

Max huffed but did as she was told without protest.

Steve put his hands on Lucas’s shoulders and looked him in the eye. “Look, I don’t know how you feel. I can never know how you feel, but let me tell you something that those buttheads will probably never understand because they aren’t like you and me.”

Lucas nodded.

“Being a ‘nerd’ as they call it is not the be all end all of existence,” Steve said. “You can have interests outside of theirs. I know they gave you shit for joining the basketball team, but you are a good player, maybe even a great one if you keep at it. You won’t have the same experiences that they will and that’s okay.”

“But what if we stop being friends?” Lucas asked, his voice breaking.

“It’s going to suck for awhile,” Steve confirmed. “It won’t be easy and it will hurt sometimes when you least expect it, but you’ll make new friends with your same interests as long as you continue to be you.”

Lucas took in a deep breath and let out slow. “You’re friends were assholes though.”

Steve laughed. “And Mike isn’t?”

A small sunny smile peeked out from under Lucas’s cloud of worry. “Yeah, all right.”

They started walking toward the group with Steve’s arm slung over Lucas’s shoulder.

“Take a deep breath,” Steve told him as they got close. “And know I will kick his ass if he says anything.”

Lucas huffed out a laugh. “Thanks, Steve.”

They reached the crowd of their friends and waited for their reaction.

“Holy shit!” Will said. “That is an epic costume!”

And then Lucas fully reached the group and ears could be seen.

“What are you supposed to be?” Mike asked with a sneer. “There aren’t any black characters with pointy ears.”

Dustin scoffed. “He could be a Vulcan. There was a black Vulcan in ‘Search for Spock’!”

“That movie was so bad, dude,” Mike huffed. “It doesn’t count.”

“It totally counts,” Dustin protested. “It’s considered canon, therefore it counts.”

“I’m not a Vulcan,” Lucas said proudly, sticking out his chest, “I’m an elf ranger.”

“Are you a Drow then?” Mike asked. “You do know Drows are evil right?”

Dustin and Will’s jaws drop in shock and outrage.

“Dude!” Will hissed. “His skin isn’t literally black!”

Steve leaned over to the girls. “Does anyone know what a draw or whatever is?”

Lucas turned to Steve. “It’s a race of elves that live in the underdark, deep below where even the dwarves dare to delve. They’re straight up evil and very matriarchal.”

“Well that’s sexist,” Robin said putting her hands on her hips.

Mike rolled his eyes turned back to Lucas. “Well you can’t be Silvain elf, because they’re pale skinned and beautiful.”

“I’m a wood elf,” Lucas said, “my skin matches the woods around me, so I can blend in easier.”

Mike crossed his arms. “Show me one other dark skinned elf that isn’t you and maybe I’ll allow it.”

Just then a large van pulled up to the entrance in a skid, blaring metal music.

The four men got out and everyone was looking at them in stunned silence.

Eddie was dressed as a minstrel, wine dark puffy sleeves and leggings with a black tunic and boots. Gareth was a magic user in long, flowing purple robes that stopped two inches from the ground and beautifully carved wizard’s rod with a deep purple crystal in its grasp. Brian was a fighter with a metal sword at his hip and dressed in actual leather armor. Then the Party saw Jeff. He was dressed all in black with tight leggings, a short tunic and a black silk shirt that was covered by a short cloak. He had two silver daggers tucked into the tops of his thigh high boots.

He dropped the hood on his cloak to reveal that yes, Mike, he too had elf ears.

Jeff spotted Lucas and threw out his arms. “My kinsman! I greet you!”

Lucas turned and bowed low and Steve was forced to turn away to hide the smile at Mike’s stunned expression.

“Lord Kelnic,” Lucas greeted. “I understand these were a gift from you?” He rubbed the tip of one of the ears.

Jeff ran up to him. “Dude! How did you get them to match so well? I’ve tried every kind of glue to make them look like actual ears.”

Lucas blushed. “My mom used her makeup kit to blend the two.”

Jeff turned to the rest of Corroded Coffin. “And why didn’t we think of that?”

Gareth and Brian just shrugged.

Eddie on the other hand looked sheepish. “Because I thought makeup was just for girls?”

Jeff rolled his eyes and turned back to Lucas. “I’ll borrow my sister’s makeup for tomorrow. Can’t have shoddy looking ears next to my ranger kinsman.”

Lucas laughed.

Brian nudged Gareth in the ribs. “What’s Mike’s problem?”

Corroded Coffin all turned as one to see that Mike was standing there between El and Will looking like a rug had been pulled out from under him.

El patted Mike on the shoulder. “My mom says that people who judge someone by anything other than the content of their character are either too young to know better, or are immature. Grow better.”

She turned and started for the line that would grant them entrance to the Fair.

Lucas looked over at Steve and the two of them tried not to laugh at the absolute gobsmacked expression on Mike’s face.

“I’m not being racist!” he huffed and crossed his arms. “I’m not!” He looked around at all his friends, but none of them looked even remotely like they agreed with him. “He’s black so he should be black characters!”

Brian reared his head back. “Dude, how is that not racist?”

Mike looked around again panicked. “It just isn’t!”

Jeff walked up to him and looked him straight in the eye. A feat that was a little hard for most of his friends these days with how tall he’d gotten.

“There’s this thing, Mike,” he said, his voice low and menacing, “called casual racism. It’s where all your upbringing and prejudices come out in casual ways instead of saying things like nigger and that blacks should be separate from whites. It’s oh he can’t play that character, the character is white. He can’t be an elf, elves are white. That’s casual racism and you better check it before it ruins a damn good friendship.”

Jeff stared him down until Mike was nodding his agreement. He turned to Will and Dustin.

“I wasn’t here at the start of this conversation,” he said, “but you two need to be better at calling out Mike’s bullshit. Because a few years on, he should be better not worse.”

Dustin and Will gave confused glances at each other.

Jeff scoffed. “Lucas told me all about the lovely little Ghostbusters incident. He straight up told you he wasn’t going to be Winston, but Mike here assumed he wasn’t going to be anyway because he’s black. So the fact that here we are and he’s still being a racist asshole?”

“We do call him out,” Will said. “And I wasn’t here for almost a year, I don’t know what happened in that year, but yeah he got worse.”

Dustin shrugged. “I don’t know either, man. Don’t look at me.”

Steve stepped forward. “I think you do know, Dustin and I was really disappointed when I heard about it.”

Dustin looked up at him in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“After all, what’s a little casual racism when Lucas ‘betrayed’ you by joining the basketball team?” Steve said, crossing his arms over his chest.

The older members of The Hellfire Club looked chastised. Because they had all given Lucas shit for that.

“You still have time to course correct,” Steve said. “But make no mistake, any kind of bullying, is still bullying. Whether it’s about the color of their skin, the games they play, or the type of school subject they like.”

He pointed at Robin. “Band and orchestra is still people getting together and playing instruments like a metal band.” Eddie winced hard and shoved a lock of his hair in front of his face.

“Playing a sport is no different than DnD, planning, keeping track of stats, and working together are hallmarks of both.” Dustin and Mike shared a grimace and even Gareth and Brian looked uncomfortable.

“Being a genius at math or science doesn’t make you better than someone who is a genius at history or literature.”

To which everyone but Robin and Max looked at their feet. Because they had all made that mistake with Steve before this all started.

“I think we will all need to unpack some pretty garbage baggage,” Steve concluded. “But!”

All the heads shot up.

“We are here for a good time,” Steve said holding up his hand, “and as long as Mike apologizes to Jeff and Lucas I think we can move past this and enjoy ourselves today. Agreed?”

Everyone murmured their agreement, punctuated with nods. Mike looked down at his feet and kicked at a pebble.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered. “I wasn’t trying to be racist. I’ll try to be better.”

Steve looked over at Jeff and Lucas and they both gave him a thumbs up.

“Great!” Steve said cheerfully. “Now let’s get this show on the road!”

“Dirt path maybe,” Robin grumbled. “It’s like an old western out here. I swear to god Steve if I see a tumbleweed I am out of here.”

Steve laughed as they all met El in line.

Now that the heavy stuff was out of the way, it was time for some good fun.

****

My favorite line was El's "...Grow better." Because there is nothing more stinging then your girlfriend telling you to stop being an ass.

Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @danili666 @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @thespaceantwhowrites @paintgonewrong @mogami13 @beelze-the-bubkiss @croatoan-like-its-hot @retro-vagabond @dolphincliffs @child-of-cthulhu @sani-86

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #steve is a history nerd

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asbealthgn · 2 years

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originally posted this goofy lil steddie fic on ao3 but uhhhh you can have it

Max does not have a crush on Steve.

She knows this because she knows exactly how crushes feel. For the past couple years she’s been in a cycle of crushing on Lucas, dating Lucas, pissed at Lucas, breaking up with Lucas, realizing that Lucas is actually pretty adorable, rinse, repeat. She also had a brief period of crushing on El that she absolutely does not talk about because they are way better off as friends.

So Max knows how crushes feel and she doesn’t have one on Steve. She does, however, have a healthy appreciation for how hot he is.

On the one hand, gross, he’s like four years older than her. But on the other hand, Michael J. Fox is like six years older than him, and he’s hot too. On the other other hand, gross, Steve is like a brother to her. But on the other other other hand, she doesn’t have a crush on him so it’s not weird.

Max is running out of hands and the whole point is that she’s not going to stop herself from finding Steve hot, and she’s not going to stop herself from looking at him every once in a while.

That’s how she makes her discovery on an afternoon that can’t seem to decide if it still wants to hang on to summer or if it’s ready to slip off into fall. She’s out on Ventura, which she kind of hates because it reminds her of Those Days, but it’s a good street for skateboarding. She’s on her own, having turned down Lucas’ offer to get shakes, and El’s offer to watch a movie, and Dustin’s offer to study for their math test tomorrow (like she was ever going to say yes to that).

She’s sort of halfway on a mission today. Jonathan gifted her a camera on her last birthday, a Polaroid, and has been showing her the ropes of photography. She’s determined to get better at it. Most of her pictures so far have come out blurry or too dark or too overexposed or just completely boring to look at. She has the camera slung around her neck now, and she’s scanning the side of the road for anything interesting to photograph.

Max has just stepped off her board to inspect a rusted out watering can in the grass that might make a cool photo when she hears a car door slam up the street. She’s partially concealed on the other side of a scraggly bush and watches from behind it as Steve swings his keys around his pointer finger before pocketing them as he approaches the woods. He glances around once he hits the trees and Max ducks down to avoid being seen. By the time she pokes her head back up, Steve has disappeared.

That’s suspicious. Why would Steve be all the way out here? What’s he trying to hide?

Like Max isn’t gonna follow. She stashes her board in the bush and takes off after him, trying to pick up the trail from the place Steve disappeared from. Once she’s in the trees, she can hear his movement, well up ahead of her. Honestly, for a guy trying to be sneaky, he’s making a shit ton of noise. All she has to do is hang back far enough that there’s no chance to be seen and she can keep up after the sound of branches breaking and leaves rustling and birds taking off.

Max pauses when the noise stops. It’s replaced by the sound of voices, too far away for Max to tell what they’re saying. Then that stops too and she creeps forward out of curiosity, going until she finally does see Steve.

He’s kissing someone.

Max isn’t sure who, exactly, because they’re pretty obstructed. Apparently, there’s a tree fort back here that she never knew about. It’s not high up, maybe only five feet off the ground, and the walls aren’t exactly watertight. Through the window and the gaps in the wall, she can see Steve pretty clearly and someone, some girl with curly dark hair. Max can’t see her well enough to make out anything else about her other than that. But it’s not like Max is not going to try to figure it out.

For that she’ll need evidence.

She lifts her camera, lines up the shot in the little window, and snaps a picture. But shit, flashes are a thing that exist. Bright light bounces off the trees and Steve lifts his head. Max drops, concealing herself in the undergrowth.

“What was that?” she hears Steve ask, and she doesn’t stick around long enough for them to start investigating. She slithers off as quickly and as quietly as she can, making it back out to her skateboard in record time. She skates away, making sure to get two streets over before checking the photo that has now developed.

Steve and the mystery girl, dark hair spilling out. Yep, Max is definitely going to use this.

“Steve has a girlfriend,” Max announces in first period the next day, swinging into her seat right as the first bell rings.

“So?” Mike asks at the same time that Dustin says, “He can’t!”

“What do you mean, so?” Max asks at the same time Lucas says, “Why can’t he?”

“I mean, why am I supposed to care?” Mike says at the same time Dustin says, “Because he tells me everything.”

“Hey, that’s our friend,” Will says at the same time Lucas says, “He doesn’t tell you everything.”

“Okay, can we please stop having two conversations at the same time?” Max asks as Mike and Dustin both open their mouths. Mike snaps his shut, but Dustin barrels on.

“Steve does tell me everything,” he says, “If he had a girlfriend, I’d know about it.”

“What makes you so sure, anyway?” Mike asks Max. She crosses her arm.

“I saw them,” she says, “In the woods off Ventura. I have evidence.” She rifles through her backpack and produces the Polaroid of Steve and the mystery girl.

“What were you even doing in the woods?” Lucas asks as everyone leans in to inspect the photo.

Max frowns. “What are you, a cop? Mind your own business.”

Lucas lifts his hands. “Geez, okay.”

Mike settles back in his seat, waving dismissively. “That doesn’t mean anything,” he says, “Steve makes out with girls, like, all the time.”

“Yeah, like Nancy,” Dustin sings, drawing out her name into a taunt.

“Ew, gross!”

“He kind of has a point,” Will says, “Steve kissing a girl in the woods doesn’t really mean anything.”

Max rolls her eyes. “Okay, then you guys aren’t paying attention,” she says, “At movie night last month, did he or did he not say that he was done with casual hookups and he wasn’t kissing anyone until it was ‘the one’ or whatever?”

Dustin nods. “He did say that. He said it to me again last week, because I hang out with him and he tells me everything.”

Lucas rolls his eyes as the warning bell rings. “Alright, if you know everything,” he says, snatching the Polaroid off Max’s desk and smacking it onto Dustin’s. “Who’s he kissing?”

“How should I know?”

“Oh, really? Guess you don’t know Steve as well as you thought.”

“Shut up!” Dustin says, “Yeah, I do! Just cause I don’t know—”

“Let me see,” Mike says, taking the picture. He studies it. “She looks kind of familiar, right? I’ve definitely seen that hair somewhere.”

“Well, she’s someone from Hawkins, so probably,” Max says.

Mike passes the photo to El. “What do you think? Do you know her?”

El takes the picture and looks at it, then shrugs. “I do not think so.”

That gives Max an idea. “Hey, El, do you think you could find her? Like when you found Heather from her picture?”

El looks back at the photo. “I am not sure. It is hard to see her.” She gives Max a tiny smile as the bell rings. “But I will try.”

That afternoon, after school, Max and the rest crowd onto El’s bed at the cabin while El sits cross-legged on the floor, blindfold over her eyes. The photo is on the ground in front of her with the radio tuned to static. Max watches in anticipation as a drop of blood slowly trickles from El’s nostril. After a few minutes, she pulls the blindfold off.

“It is no good,” she says, “I am only finding Steve.”

“Really?” Dustin asks. “Are you sure? Was anyone else with him?”

“I think he is at work,” El says, “He was with Robin and Eddie, but no girl.”

“Robin’s a girl,” Mike says.

“But not the girl,” Max says, “The hair’s all wrong.”

“Maybe she was in a wig,” Dustin says.

“Why would she be in a wig?” Lucas asks. Dustin shrugs and makes an I don’t know sound.

“It’s not Robin in a wig,” Will says, leaning off the bed and picking up the photo. “It’s someone else.”

They pass it around again, everyone staring hard at the girl like maybe they’ll find some other clue. All they can really make out is that she’s in a black shirt, but that could still be anyone. Eventually, they give up, and the boys get bored and go back to Lucas’ to play Nintendo, and Max sticks around to watch movies with El.

El convinces Hopper to let Max stay the night, since it’s Friday, and they try finding the girl one more time. El gives up after only a minute this time, shaking her head.

“It is not working,” she says, “This time, I only saw Eddie.”

“Eddie?” Max asks, “Why would you see him?”

El shrugs. “I do not know,” she says, “It seemed like he is at a concert.”

Max picks up the picture and frowns at it. “Maybe the girl’s there too, but you just can’t see her for some reason? Like, ‘cause the picture isn’t clear? And maybe you’re seeing Eddie clearly ‘cause you know him?”

“Maybe,” El says, looking skeptical.

Max doesn’t blame her. She knows she’s grasping at straws here. But this is so damn confusing. She’s never had reason to doubt El’s abilities before, so why would they be failing? They give it a rest for the night and go to bed, but Max isn’t letting this go.

She’s going to figure out who this girl is.

Max takes the strategic route and goes straight to the source.

Well, sort of to the left of the source. As close to the source as she can get without actually going to the source. Basically, she asks Robin.

It’s another movie night at Steve’s, and Max waits until Steve has disappeared into the kitchen to pop another bowl of popcorn before getting up and wedging her way in between Robin and Eddie on the couch.

“Do you know who Steve’s girlfriend is?” she asks. The others all whirl around, knowing exactly what she’s getting at. Robin’s eyes widen.

“What?” she asks, “What do you mean?”

Max narrows her eyes. “I know you know,” she says, “Steve tells you everything.”

“Hey, he tells me everything,” Dustin chimes in.

“Not helping,” Max says, pulling the polaroid out of her pocket and showing it to Robin. Eddie leans in so he can see too, then jerks back, laughing. “What’s so funny?” Max asks him.

“How’d you get that picture, Red?” he asks, not exactly answering the question.

“I took it,” Max says, “I saw them, and I wanted to know who she is.” She turns back to Robin, who is still looking at the photo. “Well? Do you know her?”

Robin shakes her head quickly. “Nope! Sorry, never seen her before in my life.”

She is so clearly lying. Max is about to call her on it, but then Steve is coming back into the room, so Max shoves the picture back in her pocket and hops off the couch to give him his spot back.

“Stevie, how come you never told me you have a girlfriend?” Eddie asks, still sort of laughing as Steve settles in next to him.

Steve’s eyebrows furrow. “What do you mean?”

“I can’t believe this!” Dustin shouts, “How could you not tell me!”

“Not tell you what, man?” Steve asks.

“Show him the picture,” Dustin says, tugging Max’s sleeve.

“I’m not showing him the picture,” Max says.

“Ah, go on, Red, show him,” Eddie says, looking like he’s barely holding back another laughing fit.

Maybe a little apprehensively, ‘cause she’s kind of showing her ass here, Max pulls the Polaroid out and passes it to Steve. He looks at it for a long moment, everyone except Eddie and Robin on the edge of their seat waiting to hear what he has to say.

“Huh.”

“That’s it?” Mike says, “Huh?”

Steve shrugs.

“So?” Lucas asks, “Who is she?”

Steve grins. “Ah, you wouldn’t know her,” he says, “She goes to a different school.”

That makes Eddie howl in laughter while everyone else speaks over each other, trying to figure out what that means. Something like the beginnings of an idea is occurring to Max, but she’s not sure exactly what yet. She turns over the pieces in her head as they finish the movie, analyzing Steve’s answer, gauging Robin and Eddie’s reactions, and it feels like something is starting to come together that has yet to fully reveal itself.

After the movie’s over, Eddie gives her a ride home since they’re right across the street from each other.

“I gotta say, Red,” Eddie says as he rolls past the sign for Forest Hills, “It’s a little voyeuristic to be snapping pictures of people in the woods.”

Max rolls her eyes. “I wasn’t trying to be creepy,” she says, “I was just curious.”

“Hey, I’m all about encouraging curious minds,” he says as they pull up in front of Max’s trailer. He grins at her. “Just be careful what you find out.”

That’s cryptic as shit, but Max just brushes it off as she pushes open the passenger door and gets out. She’s climbing the steps to her front door when the rest of the pieces clunk into place—something about familiar curly brown hair, and El only finding Eddie, and Eddie’s tears of laughter at everyone trying to put it together.

Max whirls around and looks at Eddie hopping up the steps to his own trailer, curly hair bouncing on his shoulders. “Eddie,” she yells. He stops and looks at her. “You motherfucker!”

He cackles and throws open his front door. “Knew you’d get there eventually!”

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #max mayfield #stranger things #this is what happens when you learn photography from jonathan

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r-is-typing · 2 years

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mr. clingy | s.h

summary: in which steve crashes girls night

requested?: yes! requested by anon!

request: Can you write a Steve harrington imagine where his girlfriend is having a girls night with Robin, Max and El but Steve crashes girls night cause he misses her?

pairing: steve harrington x reader

category: tooth-rotting fluff

content warnings: mentions of sex

word count: 1k

authors note: hi, anon! thank you so much for the request, i absolutely loved this idea <33 and the idea of clingy!steve has my heart in pieces ahh

hope you enjoy!

Steve Harrington was a clingy boyfriend.

He was so clingy (or what he called ‘super in love’) that he and Y/N had sleepovers almost every day. Y/N’s parents had known Steve as long as Y/N had, since the two were in diapers. So, sleepovers at Steve’s didn’t phase them.

Steve preferred having sleepovers at his house rather than hers because they could be alone, just the two of them, pretending like they lived in their own house, with no one to bother them.

Because of this clinginess, it wasn’t very often that Y/N hung out with the girls. El, Max, and Robin begged her for weeks to just ask Steve if she could go, basically telling her that she didn’t have to, she could just go.

Of course this was true, but Steve and her had an understanding. She knew Steve would be sad if she just up and left, so she waited until he got home — Steve’s house — to ask him.

“Stevie, baby?”

Steve looked up from the book he was pretending to read. “What’s up, sweet girl?” He smiled widely, pulling her onto his lap. Y/N trailed her fingers down his chest, a soft smile playing across her features.

“Do y’think you could drop me off at Hopper’s? The girls want to have a sleepover, but you know none of us drive.”

Steve lets out a whine, kissing the underside of her jaw. “Do you have to?” This makes Y/N giggle. She hated to admit it, especially to the girls, but she loved when Steve got like this.

She just loved the feeling of being wanted and loved, especially by Steve.

“Please, Stevie?”

Y/N pouts, jutting out her bottom lip, knowing Steve wouldn’t be able to resist her then. “I’ll make it up to you…” She pressed a kiss to his ear, whispering making Steve grip her waist tighter.

“Alright, fine, go get ready.”

He pats her butt and she squeals, running upstairs to the bedroom and packing a bag.

Twenty minutes later, they arrive at Hopper's cabin, the girls running out to greet her. “You finally let her out of the house, Harrington?” Robin smirks and Y/N pushes her shoulder.

The three go inside after saying goodbye to Steve.

The four spent the next three hours taking tween magazine quizzes, doing facemasks, sharing secrets, and laughing.

“So, tell us. Is he good?”

Y/N looks up from the cheesy magazine she’s reading in confusion. “I’m sorry?” Robin rolls her eyes, not getting how Y/N didn’t understand. Max continues, “Steve! Is he good in bed?”

Y/N chokes on the water she was drinking.

“I’m not talking about it. You’re both too young, and even if you weren’t, that’s still none of your business. Mine and Steve’s sex life have nothing to do with any of you, only Steve and I.”

The two youngest girls giggle loudly, Robin covering her ears. “But, I’ll say this. As far as anyone is concerned, he’s at the top of my list.”

A knock on the door startled them. “Oh, it’s probably the pizza!” El smiled widely, and Max gets up, leaving the room to go and answer the door. The room becomes silent as they wait for the delectable food they had been dreaming of all day.

“Y/N wins.” Max says, swinging the door open as she walks in, a smiling Steve Harrington behind her. “Baby!” His smile got surprisingly wider as his eyes landed on his girlfriend who looked back at him in confusion.

“What are you doing here?”

Y/N giggled as Steve buried his head into her neck, scattering kisses across the smooth skin. “Missed you, love.” She rolls her eyes.

“Well, ladies. If Stevie wants to join our little party, I think we should let him.”

Robin shares a smirk that the other three reciprocate. Steve peeks his head up. “What does that mean?” El holds up a face mask and nail polish as she giggles.

“Oh no. No chance in hell, you three. Baby, c’mon. You won’t let them do that to me, will you?”

Y/N looked up at her boyfriend, smiling sheepishly. “Sorry, m’love. Rules are rules.” She pulled Steve to the floor, beginning to apply the face mask across his face, smoothing it around his eyes and his nose.

“You look…. pretty, Harrington.”

Max giggles, hiding behind Eleven as Steve glares at her. “You really do, baby.” Y/N smiles, patting his chest with her newly manicured hand.

“So, Max, El, how are your relationships going?”

Y/N smiles softly, leaning against Steve. The girls all go back into their, what Steve called ‘gossip mode’. Steve trailed his fingers up and down her arm, a soothing feeling coursing through Y/N as she sat there, listening to what the girls were telling her.

“Wait, hold on a minute.”

The girls looked at Steve. “What did you mean when you said ‘Y/N wins’, Mayfield?” Y/N’s eyes widened and they all began to giggle.

“What’s so funny? I don’t understand!”

Y/N looked up at Steve and shrugged. “Oh, just tell him, Y/N. We all bet how long it would be until you showed up here, Mr. Clingy.”

“I bet two hours.” Max shrugged.

“I bet four.” El looked at the couple, smiling.

“I bet half an hour.” Robin smirked.

Steve looked down at the girl in his arms. “And you, pretty girl?” Y/N smiled sheepishly. “I bet three and a half. Sorry, baby.” Well, good thing Y/N knew her boyfriend so well that she was able to time it perfectly and win the bet.

“To think you had more faith in me!”

Steve hides his head into her neck once more. “It’s not my fault, baby. I’m sorry.” The girls, minus Robin who rolled her eyes, smiled.

“Yeah, Harrington. It’s not your girlfriends fault that you’re Mr. Clingy.”

Y/N kisses his lips softly, tracing the details of his face with her fingers. “My clingy boy.” Steve looked lovingly at her. “Oh, how I love you so, sweetheart.”

“Ugh, gross.” Robin groans, but shares a smile with Max and El as they watch one of, if not, the cutest couple in Hawkins share an intimate moment together.

Maybe it was a good thing that Steve was so clingy after all.

#steve harrington x you #stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington blurb #requests open #reqs open #request #r-is-typing

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starbylers · 8 months

Text

Rambling about things that’ve been said a million times but like…character’s final scenes in each season foreshadow what will be going on with them in the next season right? We’ve seen this. So by that logic we literally know what’s going to happen in s5. (In terms of character’s journeys, not talking about plot). Like we know for certain. They’re barely even theories to me anymore it’s just canon waiting to happen 😭. A huge amount of my Byler confidence comes from this tbh so if you need a little boost maybe this will help.

Dustin’s scene shows he is going to be grieving Eddie (we’ve already had confirmation of this I think so we know the pattern follows for s4 that final scenes are foreshadowing)

Lucas’ scene shows he will obviously be doing everything possible to care for and help Max

El’s scene shows she’s going to be focused on 1) saving Max & defeating Henry and 2) her family and having the support of her dad back

Caleb literally mentioned that Lucas & El’s relationship will be explored and we know Max is the thing that ties them together (the boyfriend and the best friend) so that’s another piece of evidence of s4 final scenes being foreshadowing

So it has to follow that Will & Mike’s scene shows they are definitely going to be working as a team

And if we take symbolism into account…

Their final one-on-one in s3 lingered on a shot of a blue telephone on yellow wallpaper & we know all about their s4 communication issues so yeah we’re absolutely taking symbolism into account

…that red flipped couch? They’re going to be in the upside down. Together. In the season where Will is going to have an emotional arc which will ‘tie the entire series together’. (Although even if the couch stuff was somehow incorrect the team part still stands).

To me the chances of M*leven being endgame in this scenario are so tiny they’re almost nonexistent? If next season was about showing how strong of a couple and how in love they are (which is basically the only place their story could really go atp if the intention was for them to be endgame), they would’ve had their final scene together! El would be sitting in Will’s place on the couch! Mike would be reaching into the light and grabbing El’s shoulder, symbolising that he’s choosing her.

The meaning behind this shot is so clear it’s almost funny like it literally looks like some magical celestial beam of light from heaven is shining down on where they’re connected

They wouldn’t be spending the season with their stories primarily focused on & tied to other people (“other people” being Mike’s literal other love interest!!!) if the show was trying to tell a story of them being this alleged central power couple working together and growing together in a loving, healthy, mature, supportive relationship. It’s completely illogical.

I feel like it’s so obvious that Mike and Will are at least going to be working together next season, and it’s incredibly weird to me that people even try and argue us on that point. Is it denial? Is it the fact that deep down, they are actually aware of how foreshadowing and logical story structure work and they’re scared that if they admit Mike and Will are going to be paired up, they’ll have to admit where the story is inevitably leading…?

#byler #anti mileven #and I’m sure it’s not just the Byler scene that involves symbolism I mean the story Lucas was reading Max is definitely an Easter egg #I haven’t looked into it but someone on here must have #and then there’s the final scene obviously #this isn’t a super thoughtful analysis sorry I have a bunch of stuff in drafts I’m just too tired to work on it atm 😭

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first-edition · 1 year

Text

Attention

Billy Hargrove x Fem! Reader

sum- You’re annoyed with the lack of attention, your boyfriend, billy has given you after an absolutely amazing night. You do everything in you power to provoke him and lord have mercy, does it work, a little too well.

CW- dom!billy, cussing, name calling, ass slapping, pinv, sex, Smut, mention of drug use, mention of alcohol, oral male recovering, noncon-con, dub-con, 18+ minors dni, nicknames, kinfe kink if you squint.

Thank you so much for this request

THIS IS AN NSFW WRITING MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

Billy had taken you into his bedroom to show you his new digs. He’d finally moved outta his parents and into his own huge mobile home with Max to keep her safe. The moment Max spent the night with el, billy swept you away from school.

On his new bed was where he fucked you for a straight 4 hours. He fucked you with his fingers, he fucked you with his tongue, he fucked you with his cock. He drew six orgasams from you until you were pleading for mercy, overly sensitive with tears running down your face, and hair messed up. Your body deliciously bruised.

The only thing he wanted to do was show you how good you’ve been to him the past 9 months you’ve been together. But that was 2 weeks ago. You haven’t seen or talked to Billy in 3 days and he’s been distant for the rest. You’ve asked Max about him and she always says he’s busy.

You knew that there were many ways to get your boyfriend's attention. Sending him lewd pics, showing up at his place, or telling him where you’d be for the night and he would always show up and act like he was “just passing through.”

But one way that would absolutely get you in trouble was the way you were going to be at the party. Cheyenne Gibson hosting a senior school party and being best friends with her gave you a front row seat to see the invitation list. Many of the horny jocks of the swim, and football team were going to be there and of course so was billy.

You walk down the stairs of your house wearing a tiny, tight, black dress and matching heels. Your hair is up in a ponytail and you’ve straightened your hair. You’re phone dings looking at seeing a text from billy asking if your going to Cheyenne’s party and if you need a ride.

Rolling your eyes you close your phone and leave your house.

Walking into the party you already see drunk girls dancing up on other girls' boyfriends and people doing lines off bitches ass’s.

“Y/n!!” Chyenne squeals hugging you.

“Hey! Ohh you look so good.” You smile.

“No bitch you look hot as fuck did billy let you leave like that?” She asks

“He doesn't know and I don't care.” You laugh as she does as well and hands you a solo cup absolutely full of spiked punch. Your first drink of the night but certainly not your last.

Since you’d turned your phone off you couldn’t know that Billy had been calling for over 2 hours.

“Y/n! Y/n!” Chyenne catches you on the dance floor.

“Someone special just arrived.” She giggles over the loud music. Looking over at the place she gestures you see Billy walking through the crowd as some other guys greet him.

You smile at her and nod she shimmies off and you walk to the bathroom down the hall and around the corner seeing a line, you don't actually need to go, you just know that other guys hang around waiting to talk to girls who are waiting.

“Hey.” A voice says you turn to see Jake, captain of the football team.

“Hey, how are you?” You ask

“Chill.” He says handing you a blunt you take it and inhale the smoke before handing it back to him blowing out the smoke in perfect O rings. He chuckles at your talent.

“You alone tonight?” He asks you to nod.

“Good you gotta go or you just hanging around?” He asks you shake your head

“Just standing here…wanna dance?” You ask if he looks you up and down and nods, taking your hands leading you back out.

Dancing with your back against his chest your ass rubs against his crotch giving him the most obvious boner his hands are all over your body and face in your neck inhaling your strawberry and cream scent as you let your hair down.

Another guy comes and joins and you gladly dance with him pretty soon you're surrounded by people touching up on you and dancing, smoking and drinking. Through the vibration and lights you see Billy across the room spotting his face immediately drop in anger, his eyes dark as he lights a cigarette watching you.

You smirk and purposely bend forward the guy behind you gripping your hips grinding against your ass, your small dress riding up. You stand again wrapping your arms around the boys watching as billy boils.

You turn away from Billy facing the other guys. But before you know it another set of hands are gripped tightly around your hips.

“Miss me that much hmm?” Billy’s voice hits your ears, you giggle, resting your head against his shoulder.

“Fucking slut.” He growls his hand wrapping around your throat. Making you gasp.

“I've been calling you…you ignoring me?” He ask.

You pull back from him,

“you’re one to talk bill.” You turn away to walk off but he grabs you putting you over his shoulder and walks outta the party. He walks to his car opening the door and puts you in the seat then shuts the door walking around the side getting into his driver's seat.

“You asshole my car is here!” You exclaim.

“Sit the fuck down!” He barks at you and you sit back in the seat crossing your arms. He screeches off at his place.

He gets out of the car and you do as well but he picks you up again over his shoulder.

“I can fucking walk billy!” You whine.

“Shut up!” He slaps your ass making you squeal. He opens the door.

You see max, will, and el all playing a board game sitting on the floor.

“Hey y/n!” She exclaims, always happy to see you. You move your hair out of your face and smile.

“Hey!” You smile

“You alright?” She asks as Billy walks past them, still over his shoulder.

“We’ll see.” You giggle as Billy takes you out of her sight down the hall to his room, shutting the door and putting you on the bed.

“Nice to see you too.” You huff taking your heels off.

“What?! Why are you so fucking desperate today huh?” Billy yells at you as you sit on his bed, your legs crossed, you don't make eye contact with him.

“You’ve been throwing yourself out at everyone except me, your fucking boyfriend, tits out, ass flashing, your cunt is out for the world your not wearing a dress youre wearing a fucking napkin and a shoe string to cover your fucking clit for fucksake.” He says angrily

“You left me alone after! For 2 fucking weeks I haven’t seen you in three da-“ billy grabs your face.

“Take that language with me and see what happens.” He says. You look up at him.

“B-Billy..” you say, your big eyes shining. A growl rumbles in his throat.

“I know what’s wrong hmm..i fucking know princess.” He says pushing his hair back letting go of you before unclasping his belt. You shift in your seat now sitting on your heels, your legs tucked under you.

“This what you want hmm?” He says unbuttoning his pants just enough. The patch of matching colored hair on his groin is exposed as he pulls his pants and boxer front down enough to expose his cock that you've had in you so many times.

“Was it not enough last time hm, not enough that I fucked you for 4 hours, gave you 6 orgasams huh?” He says stroking his already hardened cock from your trickery earlier. You don't say anything and look down.

“No, you fucking slut, look at me.” He grabs you by your chin standing above you.

“Mm.” You whine biting your lip.

“Since your gonna act like a sleeve ill fuck you like one huh?! HUH!” He snaps at you. Your eyes look up at such a beautiful sight you are so close to his dick that your breath makes him twitch.

“Open your mouth.” He says you obey by sticking your tongue out. Slapping his heavy tip on top of it strings of saliva follow before you close your lips around him and take him. He hisses at the movement.

“Put your arms behind your back.” He says you listen, grabbing your wrist.

“Suck.” He orders you once again to obey and do so, sucking him off by bobbing your head.

He groans watching you take him in your mouth.

“I don’t know if i made myself clear before hand about how to get attention, they surely wasn’t fucking it” he says.

“Mmm.” You reply.

He nods and grabs your head pushes his dick down your throat making your moan the vibration causing him to twitch.

He continues to drool on your face, spilling from your mouth. The lewd sounds of sloshing and light gagging he pulls out you lean over inhaling the much needed oxygen wiping your mouth before you can look back up at him he pushes you back against the bed. The click of a switchblade and the shine of a blade close to your skin as he tears the dress from your body and removes your thong. Removing his pants and shirt he pulls his belt from the pants and makes cuffs attaching your wrists to them and hooking it to the post of his bed.

He pushes your legs apart and without hesitation enters you. No foreplay, for prep.

“Ah-!” You scream out he fucks you already over-stimulating you.

“You liked rubbing up on those guys hm?” He asks, gripping your breast in hand.

His mother comes up lightly, slapping your cheek.

“Answer me.” He huffs.

“Y-yes.” You answer he grips your neck shoving himself lathe way in making you clench around him letting out a loud moan.

“Fuckin look me!” He yells that you look up to him over you.

You see his expression on his face anger but mostly hurt. His dark eyes are glazed over. You thought making billy jealousy would be fun but now it just hurts you too see him like this only wanting you to show you something to teach you a lesson.

You lunge forward your lips connecting with his. If he were actually punishing you he’d pull away but no this time he kisses you back with passion. His tongue pushes its ways into your mouth making you moan.

You pull back as he kisses down your neck removing his hand.

“I'm sorry. I'm so sorry billy!” You say choking back your tears as he brushes your body with nips and sucks.

He pulls his lips back and reaches up, removing your hands from the cuffs. Your arms immediately wrap around him pushing him off you so you're on top. You sink back into him riding him. Groans leave his throat as his hands grips your waist.

“Fuck-“ he curses and your grind against him.

You just wanted his attention, his love. You wanted him to notice you as if you were back in freshman year seeing him walk around.

Hr thrusts up into you moans and breathes leave your body. His thumb circles your clit making your clench around him, your nails clawing at his chest. The over whelming situation of him fucking your tightens the knot in your stomach.

“B—billy fuck..please” you moan out.

“You gonna cum baby?! Hm” he asks you to nod breathlessly.

He pushes you off him and turns you around your back facing him. You wiggle your ass making him chuckle as he smacks his hand down on your cheek before squeezing and soothing the mark with a kiss.

“Arch baby.” He instructs you to listen , arching slightly; he rubs his tip against your strip before entering you again, the new angle making you tight as ever.

He sucks in a breath gripping your ass.

“Shit- those fucker you were dancing with wish they had your little pussy around thier dicks.” He chuckles as he thrusts into you. Your arms hug the pillow to your face as it muffles your moans.

"Such a good girl," Billy praised as he snapped his hips forward harder. Clawing at your waist, forcing you against him harder and you were more than happy to oblige. Another slap coming down on your ass each making you gasp into the pillow.

Billy grabs your hair pulling you up into him.

“You're mine. You got that. Fucking mine. In every way.” He says roughly thrusting up into you.

“Y-yes s-sir.” You manage out before clamping down around his cock cumming hard. Your eyes rolling back as he reaches down rubbing your clit making you squirm in his grasp.

He lets you go and with a few more sloppy thrusts Billy is cumming deep into you. You feel him twitching growing as he cums.

You pant putting your hand on your stomach feeling the budget of your boyfriends dick still settling in you. It's gone as he pulls out leaving a trail of kisses down your shoulders as he gets up disappearing in the bathroom he’s got in his room for a minute before coming back grabbing a shirt from his drawer he pulls on his boxers and walks back over to you.

He runs the cold damp cloth along your body cleaning you off before chucking it into the clothes hamper.

“Come here baby.” He says pulling you up into his arms as you sit up.

“Let me see.” He says looking at your top oversees the hickies scattered along your body as well as the prominent mark around your neck.

“I'm sorry honey.” He says kissing your neck lightly. You shake your head, not placing your hands on his face, pressing your lips softly against him.

“Don't be.” You smile. He puts the shirt over over body pulling the covers back as you get in under.

“Stay here for the night okay.” He says you nod holding your arms out to him he joins up as you cuddle up next to him.

(Hello to my amazing readers im officially open fro requests, smut, angst, fluff, almost everything your heart could wish for, shoot me a dm or an anonymous message and I’ll be back to you!!!!)

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