#stranger things preferences

[the-witty-pen-name]

When he realizes he's in love with you...

(Stranger Things Edition)

A/N: thank you @punkrockmlchael for bouncing ideas back and forth with me for this one! you are the best <3 please follow roz if you don't already she's the best

Warnings: substance use (smoking weed); fluff

Characters: Steve, Eddie, Gareth, Jonathan, Argyle & Billy

Steve: It's a really simple moment. You're with everyone just gathered at Steve's house for a movie night. Steve is sharing the couch with you, and he'd been doing a good job of ignoring that fact until your head rests on his shoulder with a gentle thud. You fell asleep and you curl up by his side. He's terrified to move, not wanting to disturb and risk ending this moment. He tries to remain completely still, except when he lifts his arm to wrap around your shoulder- of course you sleep through it. Having you so close to him, knowing you feel safe and comfortable enough around him to fall asleep- he's a goner.

Eddie: You match his energy, and you aren't afraid to argue with him. Heated debates about literally anything- usually something pointless. You don't stand down either, no matter how ridiculous it gets. He even just likes to get you riled up so he can get a reaction out of you- he loved seeing you so fired up. One night, the movie you both watching is paused because Eddie made a bogus claim the actor was in another movie- he wasn't. You're arguing, talking with your hands frantically to prove your point and you don't even catch on that he's stopped caring and he's just watching you with a smirk on his lips. He just loved you so much.

Gareth: You'd been dating for a couple of months. After dinner together, you end up walking into the record store. You're in the next row across from him- just mindlessly looking through the selection. He watches your eyes light up when you find a record you already own, but love- just happy to stumble across it out and about. It makes his heart skip, and he realizes that he wants you to share things you love with him all the time- for the rest of his life.

Jonathan: When you aren't paying attention, Jonathan loves to take candid photos of you. There's a time you're both at Lover's Lake and you're skipping rocks. Looking at you through his camera, it kind of just hits him all at once. You look over and smile for the photo and it's his favorite photo he's ever taken. After that, you can tell something changed between the two of you. He finally confesses his feelings after months of pining and you start dating immediately afterwards.

Argyle: You're sitting with him in the back of the delivery van after your shift. There's already a large cloud of smoke that has engulfed the two of you. Through the haze that has pleasantly taken over his brain, he watches you- your skillful hands rolling another joint for the two of you to share. His mouth hangs open slightly watching as you bring it to your lips, your mouth opening just enough to poke your tongue out so you can seal it. It's probably the hottest thing he's ever seen and he immediately just falls for you in that moment.

Billy: You're laying on your stomach on his unmade bed. You're flipping through one of your notebooks, trying to study. He's laying on his side, kissing your shoulder and rubbing your back- wanting your attention and pouting he needs to compete with your homework. He observes you read behind those beautiful lashes of his, and he loves the way you face looks when you're concentrating and focused. Despite that, he still wants to toss the book on the floor and kiss you stupid, but he'll wait because he knows it's important to you to do well on this test. His resolve doesn't last long, but he does try to be good- because he loves you.

TAGLIST: @sunshinepeachx @downbear @fanlifeaamt @exploding-bonbon @losingmygrasponreality @skiddypiddy @andvys @djodirt @moonlightsolo @kyga01 @sheisjoeschateau @melaninjhs @v3lv3tf0x @purpleeyeswithgoldensparkles @sunshine-mrk @danymunsonharrington @mrsjellymunson @fanficfantik @the-unforgivenn @punkrockmlchael @supersecretsamm

[iveseenstrangerthings]

you’re not sleeping on the floor - steve harrington imagine

summary: reader spends the night at Nancy’s after a party and gets an uexpected guest at bedtime... no warnings as such in this one :)

word count: 2.3k

notes: yikes it’s been a while, this has been in my drafts for TIIIIIME. Anyway, enjoy :) here’s the link to my masterlist if you’re interested !

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You take the spare room, (y/n).” Nancy chirps in her deliriously drunken state as she flings open the Wheeler’s spare room. You’re met with a double bed, neatly made with plush pillows and a crochet throw to decorate. It looks sweet, and happily undisturbed, unlike the rest of the house following the party, which you’ve already promised to help clear away in the morning. 

Nancy swiftly places a small kiss on your cheek before turning on her heels, “Sleep well, no snoring, I’m only down the hall!” With a roll of your eyes, you saunter down the hall to the bathroom where you flick the light on and close the door softly. 

In the bathroom, you place your overnight bag on the counter and fish around for your toothbrush. Upon finding it, with a yawn, you twist the lid from your toothpaste and place a sloppy dot of mint infused gel to the head and start to brush. As you’re brushing, you tune into the sounds of people calming down for the night in the rest of the house. Doors closing, slow footsteps tracing back and forth in the hall and up and down the stairs, hushed voices and drunken giggles permeate the house and you smile. Still, you’re left wondering about someone in particular. Someone who seemed to disappear part way through the night, much to your sheer disappointment. You’re pondering where Steve went. He was supposed to be staying too, but you did see him chatting to Paige, so you figure he’s left with her. Before the thought could get too overwhelming and add a downer to your otherwise fun evening, you spit into the sink and get yourself ready for bed. 

After you change into your pyjamas, you unlock the bathroom door and head back across to the spare room, closing the door softly behind you. The sheets are cool against your warmed skin as you pull them back and get comfortable before knocking the light off and shuffling further down into the bed. Within minutes, you feel yourself on the edge of a sound slumber, slowly drifting into a dreamlike state as your head swims as the effects of the alcohol wear off. You’re unaware of how much time has passed before you’re abruptly snapped back into consciousness. The bed dips and you hear a heavy sigh from next to you, someone’s made their way in here... As soon as your brain registers this, you quickly gasp loudly and shoot up, sitting bolt upright searching around for the lamp on the bedside table. As your fingers fumble around under the lampshade for the small switch, you feel the weight shuffle around again, paired with the ruffle of the duvet as it’s thrown back, as the person stands up from the bed. 

Click. 

The room is bathed in light as your eyes squint at the sudden brightness, a harsh contrast from the darkness that previously cloaked the room. You turn to the side of the bed and then your eyes meet the figure stood next to it, a palm covering their eyes from the sudden brightness.

“Steve?! What the hell are you doing?! You almost gave me a heart attack.” You harshly whisper at him as he stands squinting back at you.

“Shit, I’m sorry!” He whispers back, “I didn’t realise anyone was in here. All the couches are taken, and I didn’t know where else to go.” His hand rakes through his hair as he shifts from foot to foot. 

An irritable huff escapes your lips, “I thought you left with Paige?” Your intonation pitches to make it sound like a question, and Steve’s features soften. 

With a shake of his head, he runs his fingers over his mouth, “God no.” He’s still whispering, “I thought you left too, I was trying to find you.” 

He was? He was... hm. Interesting. “Well you’ve found me, and woken me up.” You laugh slightly at the harsh whispers the pair of you are passing back and forth. Slyly, you catch Steve’s eyes wander down your front at your pyjama top before back up to meet your eyes and you could swear there’s a tinge of pink decorating his cheeks. 

“I’m just gonna...” He starts, taking the two unused pillows from the bed and placing them on the floor, starting to lie down. 

“Wait Steve,” you start, realising he’s willing to sleep on the floor. Although the pair of you have been friends for a while and have on nights like this shared some drunken feelings with one another, it’s a thing that just keeps getting passed over as time goes on. But now, knowing he’s going to sleep on the floor, you feel a rush of warmth and confidence fill you. “You can’t sleep on the floor.” You state simply. 

His head pops up over the side of the bed as you pull the comforter closer to you. “Why not? You’ll want that nice big bed to yourself. I’ll be fine here.” He shrugs.

You answer by simply pulling the comforter back on the other side of the bed. “Come on, get in so I can turn the damn light off and go back to sleep.” 

“You sure you’re okay with sharing a bed?” 

“Yes!” Your harsh whispers return as your tired impatience builds and he quickly stands up, places the pillows back and stands still, as if someone has an invisible iron grip on him. “Steve, c’mon.” You tut as he maintains eye contact and you watch as his chest rises and falls quickly. “I get you’re being respectful, but you don’t need to do that,” you say as you turn back to the light and knock the switch off before sliding back down in the bed and getting comfortable. You hear him drop his jacket onto the floor and slide out of his jeans before pulling back the comforter and letting himself sink down into the mattress. 

The pair of you lie in silence for a few minutes, and judging by Steve’s now steady breathing, you’re assuming he’s fallen asleep. But for you, the opposite. The feeling of impending sleep that was flooding your body moments ago has gone and you feel hypersensitive to every noise that your ears register. With a small huff, you turn over onto your back and cross your arms over your chest atop the covers. 

“You good?” His voice startles you through the dark and you turn your head slightly, trying to make out his position in the bed next to you. 

“Can’t sleep.” Your voice comes out tired and impatient, you’re already recognising how tired and cranky you’ll be tomorrow because of your lack of sleep. 

Before too long, you feel the bed shift again and Steve’s weight comes slightly closer as you still lie on your back. “Did you have a good night?” His voice remains calm and quiet.

You nod at him through the dark, but then realise he won’t really be able to see your reply. “Yeah, I did. It was fun.” Your head is still turned to face Steve and your eyes are gradually getting used to the dark and his shape is becoming clearer, and it is much closer than before. “Did you?” 

He takes in a deep breath before exhaling, “Sort of.” His apparent drunkenness he entered the room with seems to have settled.

“Sort of?” You question before turning onto your side to face him, the arm you’re lying on bends upwards to come under your pillow, a position you’ve always found comfortable since being younger. 

“Yeah, I guess. Don’t get me wrong I did have a good time. I just wish I’d spent a bit more time with someone.” 

In the darkness, your eyebrows furrow, “Really? Who was it?” You are completely ignorant to his hints, and he loves that about you.

“She just looked amazing.” He starts and your stomach drops a little, disappointed that he’s going to spend the time now describing someone else to you. “I kept looking over at her laughing and joking around with her friends.” He stops and takes a deep inhale; your body feels heavy at the thought of him admiring someone from afar. He continues, “She had a beautiful, like orange satin-y dress on,” suddenly your breath hitches and your mouth feels dry. You think of your overnight bag, at the bottom of the bed, with that very dress folded up in. “There’d be times where we’d make eye contact, you know, and I’d just totally freeze and feel like an asshole.” You swallow quietly, trying so hard to make your mouth feel like anything but sandpaper. “Seeing her tonight made me realise that I’ve been wasting my time getting to know the wrong people. When really, she’s been right in front of me all along.” You daren’t breathe in case you miss what he’s saying, you almost can’t believe it. In your mind, doubts unfurl like mist curling along the edge of a lake, but all you can do is listen for more. “I think I’ve always just been scared that she doesn’t feel the same, you know?”  

Silence. Nobody says anything else, and he’s so worried that he’s just fucked it up. Surely you’ve realised he’s speaking about you, or so he hopes you’ve realised. “...Steve,” you start, surely this is all too good to be true? “She does.” 

“Hm?” He replies quicker than you expected.

You clear your throat as a signal of finality almost, “She does feel the same, idiot.” A giggle punctuates the end of your sentence like a period and your cheeks flush. 

In the darkness, his figure is still indistinguishable, but the bed shifts to let you know he’s moving closer. Only a slight outline is visible and your heart picks up speed dramatically, throbbing in your chest. Gently, you lift your hand up and bump into Steve’s arm, making you realise he’s much closer than you thought. With a deep breath, you slowly move your hand up his arm, tracing your fingernails lightly over his bare arm before you reach the end of his t-shirt sleeve. At his shoulder, you move your hand along, gliding across his collarbone that peeks out from the neck of his shirt before you finally place your fingers at the base of his neck. Ever so slightly, you can feel the slight of his pulse beating underneath the tips of your fingers as they gently rest on his neck. With one final, wilful urge, your hand moves up to rest on his cheek, your thumb swiping across it, hoping that you’re not about to poke him in the eye. Your own skin is now covered with goosebumps that have risen in anticipation of the proximity you both now share. Whilst your hand made your way to its current position, you felt yourself shift even closer to him. Underneath the cover, his hand confidently finds your waist and he tightens his grip, pulling you close to finally close the gap between you both. His hand glides down to the side of your thigh where he pulls your leg up to rest over his hip, once it’s resting comfortably, he traces his hand over places he could only have ever dreamed of touching. Your heart now hammers wildly in your chest and your skin feels like it’s on fire from his touch. 

“You’re so beautiful.” He whispers, his breath lightly fanning over your lips, again reminding you just how close you both are.

Your fingers trail down to the collar of his shirt where you give it a soft pull, inching him agonisingly closer. “You can’t even see me.” Teasingly, you brush your lips against his and you feel his grip tighten on your hips, he hadn’t expected you to feel the same, but he is absolutely not complaining. 

“I don’t need to see you to know.” And before you know it, his hand leaves your hips and comes up to hold your jaw, his thumb placing itself right underneath your bottom lip, pulling it down slightly before you feel his lips on yours. You both lose yourselves within each other as he kisses you slowly, meaningfully, like months of pent-up emotions are seeping through his kiss and you feel as if you’re melting into him, his grip staying strong on your jaw. 

In synchronisation, your lips move together effortlessly, and you feel at ease together, like it’s the most natural thing to have happened between the pair of you. After what felt like an eternity, but was no longer than half a minute, you slowly pull away from one another. His thumb grazes over your chin and you tip your chin into his hand, enjoying the feeling of support that he’s offering you. 

“Wear that dress again for me sometime, hm?” His voice is low, raspy with the fog of worn off alcohol and lust. 

That one sentence, those eight simple words, send your heart into eruptions of excitement and thank God it’s dark because your cheeks tinge the colour of fresh beets. The whirlwind of feelings leaves you unable to communicate with efficiency, so you place another small kiss upon his lips with a brief nod, one you’re sure he will feel due to the proximity of you both. A roar fills your ears as your cheeks tighten with a smile and you shift down, moulding to the shape of his body as you tuck your head into the crevice between his neck and shoulder. If anyone were to walk in, it would look as if you were both used to doing this, they would think it was the most natural thing in the world. Happily, the thought brings you a sense of pride and calm that you hadn’t experienced for so long.  

[pleasantlycrazyworld]

Losing your pet.

Triggers: pet loss; talks of depression.

Author note: I had to put my cat to sleep at the beginning of the month, he was my baby so things have been really rough lately. I'm hoping writing this will help with grieving and it may be posted it may not be. If it is I hope it helps anyone who is also experiencing something like this.

Eddie:

You call him when you were freaking out about what to do. You were awoken by your animal crying out and knew they needed a vet but it's so early in the morning you don't know where to go.

When he got the call he was instantly worried for you. He knew how much having your animal helped you cope with your depression and he didn't know how losing them would make you react.

He rushed over and took you two to the 24 hour vet.

He was there to hold you as you cry, he talked to the vet for you, he called the place to make arrangements for the remains

He'd offer to have you either stay at the trailer or for him to stay at your house. He thought being in a quiet house would make you feel worse and since it happened in your room he knew you wouldn't be able to sleep in your actual bed for a while.

The two of you slept on your couch for a week after everything happened.

He would set even more reminders to help remind the both of you that you need to take your medicine

I think he would have you come and sit in on a DnD session to give you entertainment and take your mind off of things, he'd feel pretty prideful when it works

He wouldn't rush you to do anything. There is still a box of litter, still a collar, still toys on the floor oh thats fine! We can get rid of it whenever you are ready to. You want to get a new pet great! Let's get into the van! You don't even want to be around animals that's fine too!

He will map out the store trips to make sure you do not have to even walk by the pet supply aisle if you can't handle it

Steve:

He paid for everything. He knows money doesn't fix much but he didn't want you to be worried about paying for anything.

He never had a pet but he knew how close you were with your pet and he knew you were going to take it hard.

He would make sure you ate and took your medicines, he isn't the best cook but he can do basics so it was about a week of mac and cheese before you started cooking again.

He had you stay at his house, he would worry about you being alone so he made a plea deal and convinced you to stay with him. It's already pretty big and there is more than enough room for the both of you

He would try and get you a new pet better soon after everything happened

I think he would try and get you to talk about your feelings, either by making you therapy appointments or getting you stuff to journal he doesn't want you to keep things bottled up

He tends to treat it as any other heartbreak. There will be days where you two just eat junk food and watch sad movies and when that happens he doesn't mind holding you as the both of you cry into your bowls.

Billy:

Alot of people would probably say Billy wouldn't be that helpful.

I think he would struggle with knowing what to do, he could tell you were struggling but he freezes when he doesn't know what to do.

He would make some sort of comment that made you start crying and that is when he realized how serious this situation was. "It was just a cat/dog/bird/lizard/etc. get over it." Seeing you break down in front of him was his wake up call.

He would bring take out everytime he came over, he'd act like it wasn't a big deal but he knew how much it meant to you.

I think if you were to journal it would be because of Max and if/when Billy tried to make fun of the new habit you both would give him a look that made it clear to back off and he took the warning loud and clear.

I think the next time he sees a stray he would pull over and try and take it home for you. He either comes home with the animal successfully or he comes home covered in scratches and is refusing to speak about what happened.

[billyhargrovesslut]

Henry Creel

Imagines

All I Want Is To Protect

Stick Together ( + Eleven)

Oneshots

Short Series

Preferences

[anniebass]

a bit obsessed with doing these, it's the most fun I've had with trad art in a while

get A4/8x10 originals here, free shipping ✨

traditional art commissions

[glittersumn]

Seeing them interact is a NEED.

[ihni]

From a chat on discord. Billy has no time for bullshit.

[morganbritton132]

Thank you for feeding us with the Steve Has Older Siblings AU. God tier level of characterization I gotta say.

How do the older siblings handle the “Eddie Munson Problem”? I would imagine they actually do try to get rid of him at first given Eddie’s reputation but then realize he treats Steve better than any of them ever have.

Well, there is cash incentive.

Richard Harrington still has aspirations of going into local politics one days and he is not going let Al Munson’s son kill that dream. Or kill their son. Richard waves a dismissive hand in his wife’s direction because, “Of course. Of course. Or that.”

Whoever makes that boy disappear gets five thousand dollars.

(1.)

Claire takes a direct approach. She corners Steve and tells him that Eddie is a drug dealer and a drug user. She tells him about all the scary things that showed up on his toxicology report in the hospital and Steve replied flatly with, “Wow. Crazy. I had no idea.”

“I’m serious,” She says. “You could get hurt with someone like that. Do you know how that would make us feel if something happened to you?

“I fractured my ankle at a track meet once and Dad made me walk to the car afterwards,” Steve replies. “I think you guys will be fine.”

“I’m serious.”

“You know, Claire,” Steve nods to himself because, yeah. Sure. Let’s do it. “How have you felt the last three years? Or, I don’t know. The last two concussions? You have no idea what I’ve been dealing with for years now and – and you’ve never cared so why now? What’s Dad giving you to ruin my life because-“

He shakes his head, “This is not worth it. Like how picking up the phone when the mall caught on fire with me inside it wasn’t worth the effort. Tell Dad you tried really hard, but no. I’m not going to get rid of one of the few people in my life that actually like me.”

(2.)

Jason takes a different – dumber – approach. He goes in with no plan and no intentions, just took the opportunity when he saw Eddie’s van pulled off on the side of a backroad. He bangs his fist against the side and is delighted that he caught Eddie and Steve.

He threatens to beat Eddie up which is bold to say to an accused murderer in the woods, but okay.

Then he turns around and threatens Steve that he’s going to tell their dad that he was getting high in the woods if he doesn’t keep away from trailer trash, but Jason is fucking idiot because they were decidedly not getting high in the woods. He leaves with an eighth of marijuana and  no closer to five thousand dollars because Steve had just shrugged like, “Okay? Go ahead. Tell him.”

(3.)

Richie does not participate in this because he actually wants to improve his relationship with his little brother and he was the first person Steve went to after they got Eddie, barely breathing, to the hospital. He saw how shaken up he was and he also saw the bruising around Steve’s neck.

He knows what the bruising looks like. He knows how people gets bruises like that. And he knows that he’s a coward because he could not bring himself to ask a question he did not want the answer to. And he knows Eddie Munson.

Eddie is harmless.

All you have to do is have one conversation with the kid and you’ll see that he couldn't hurt a fly. Richie, however, had many conversations with him when Harrington & Associates took his case on pro bono so he knows just how harmless Eddie is.

He also knows that Eddie spends a lot of time trying to make Steve laugh. Richie has spent enough time in his life making his brother miserable. He's not doing anymore.

[patchworkgargoyle]

Steve would be an absolute menace (pun intended) with the fake, clunky, plastic lightsabers that start being sold when the Star Wars prequels come out.

He doesn't get one for himself, he steals one of Eddie's or Dustin's and twirls it in his hand before he whacks someone with it. The only people free from his viscous lightsaber attacks are Max and Erica.

Yes, this does devolve into Steve, Eddie, and the Party having giant lightsaber battles in somebody's backyard. Eddie has Darth Maul's double-ended one and smacks himself in the face with it more than he hits anyone else.

[baddiewiththebook]

ONE OF THE BOYS

-> While you pine hopelessly over your best friend, Eddie Munson. You hear the sentiment 'one of the boys' one too many times and you've decided to change that. All in the name of the one boy who won't even look at you, or so you think.

-> eddie munson x you (she/her)

-> friends to lovers, slow burn, angst

-> warnings - strong language and suggestive themes [no smut]

-> a/n originally a one-shot, but I couldn’t help myself and wrote some more!

Part 1 [Part 2]

-> <-

Your heart sinks into the deepest pits of your chest. The tiny inconspicuous hole where no one would ever look. Your spirit lies under the earth, while Eddie lies bricks instead of dirt across your corpse. A quite violent death you have taken on.

“Are you still with us?” Gareth waves a hand in front of your face. Grease slips between his fingers from his two day old burger that your school pretends was freshly slapped on a grill that morning.

You squirm. “Sorry, what was that?”

“Eddie says you could come to practice,” he throws his hand up. “You’re one of the boys!”

Right.

Like someone had thrown water across your face, you slide theatrically to the floor in a puddle of you. Theatrically speaking - of course.

The lunchroom chatter dies in the back of your head like you just did a moment ago. You excuse yourself from the group, while claiming that you have forgotten your exam in the next class period and you should really put in at least a few moments of study time.

Your few moments are actually spent stowing yourself away in the ladies room.

“Oh my God, I can’t believe he asked you out!” A girl squeals. “What are you going to wear? Tell me everything!”

You had stopped your self doubting and your eternally ill fading romantic imaginations you came up with while you stare at the dull gaze in your eye behind the dirty spotted bathroom mirror. You should focus on your studies anyway. Failing your senior year of high school, again, was not on your list of to-do's.

Then again, the two girls gossiping were very pretty. You took notes. Hair full and down to her chest in length. The kind of hair Texas wishes they had. Cheeks were plump, and dusted pink with some powder of sorts. Full lips covered in sweet strawberry gloss. You can smell their gloss from just a sink away. That, or perhaps that was their perfume. Sweet and feminine.

“I'm sorry,” one of them notices you staring, while she applies a thick coat of her lip-gloss. 'Strawberry Dream' is what the little label on the tube reads. “Are we being loud?”

“No, no,” you shake your head.

“Okay,” she sings awkwardly, before continuing the conversation her friend had started. “Anyway, Josie, I think we should go shopping for a new outfit. Oh! I - so - need a new gloss. Something sexy!”

“Sexy?” You accidentally slip the words, before you could stop yourself.

The girl cocks her head. “Do you usually eavesdrop?”

Not that they weren’t talking in front of her.

“My bad,” you tug at the ends of your t-shirt. “Erm- you’re trying to impress this boy?”

“Yes,” she says simply. “Do you have some sort of advice?”

Looking you up and down, she spots the stains from your lunch at your chest. Trying not to snort and jeer at your expense, she waits for you to respond. Her cocky tight lipped smile says enough.

“Actually,” you reply. “I- Why don’t you try being yourself? He clearly likes you to ask you out, so maybe you could tone it down?”

“Tone it down?” She frowns. “Like you? Tell me er- girl of some sort- how many dates have you gotten with that fresh out of bed look you wear every single day. You look like a shy boy. Yeah, I see you around. You’re small like a shrimp. You need to be shark in these waters or your going to get your head bitten off. Put on a bra. A low cut top. And, maybe some blush to hide that dead corpse face you wear-,”

“It’s my skin-,”

“When you get a date, then you get an opinion. Got it?”

“Got it,” you zip your lips. What a bitch.

-> <-

Practice, as the group of men slamming poorly synchronized chords together, is held at Gareth’s garage promptly after school. You did not participate in the noise, but rather you sit in a lawn chair onlooking. Fanning yourself with your hands, sweat glistens across your skin like armor.

Your friends finish their set. Eyes on you, you cheer for their noise that will surely draw eyes from the neighborhood. Someone will be by soon to tell the boys to quiet their racket, and to perhaps indulge themselves in a new activity like reading a book. The Book, perhaps.

“You’re getting better,” you propose promisingly.

Eddie nudges your shoulder with a fist on his way to the cooler to grab a cold soda. You pretend like your heart didn’t just stop inside of your chest.

“I told you, guys,” Eddie has been raving to his band mates (and occasional D&D players) that you, his B.F.F., wasn’t going to ruin practice. That just because you might have a new rack and hips hidden underneath this t-shirt wasn’t going to change any dynamic within the group.

They all agreed about this while staring at your ever growing chest and hips. You cover your chest again, before speaking out of turn.

“Are you ever going to preform these songs?” You ask the group.

Eddie’s plush lips touch the bottle his soda came in. Condensation from the glass dripped across his chin and down his neck to the exposed flesh of his chest.

And, they were so worried about you “developing.” Here you are, eyeballing your best friend like you haven’t ever seen him before. Suddenly, you woke up one morning and you were obsessed with him!

It isn’t like that at all. You didn’t know when you began having feelings for your best friend. Somewhere between living next to each other in the trailer park. Sneaking out after your curfew to splash in Lovers Lake (Eddie’s favorite way to wash off his worries). And, the times you tripped over your own clumsiness when Eddie was the first to rescue you. You might have just fallen into his eyes you stared at them so long. Maybe- maybe that’s when something changed.

No more boys and girls - there are men and women. High school changes us - all of us. There’s science behind it all, you suppose. You took health courses, but no scientific explanation could bring you to figure out how you were completely enamored by your best friend.

Your best friend, who is sweating underneath the heat of the garage. Finding himself without options, he strips his shirt.

“Hold this for me,” he says like there’s no issue. Because there was no issue for him, you’re alone in your feelings. Classic.

“Sure,” you fold his shirt up in your lap, while resisting the urge to inhale his scent like a trained dog trying to find a missing person. Or, like an addict getting their fix for the first time in days.

“And, yes,” Eddie announces, before slamming down a new chord. “Come watch us at the Hideout!”

“Really?!”

“Sure,” Gareth speaks for his friend. “If you want.”

“I’ll come,” you ask, “What time?”

“We’ll start setting up around six in the evening, but we’re not set to play until seven,” Eddie explains to you. “Friday.”

You nod. “I’ll be there!”

“Oh, Eddie!” Gareth grabs his attention. “You gonna bring Roxie?”

Roxie Martin? Now, she’s a hot pair of tits in a mini skirt. Full scarlet lips, Rockin’ Roxie, as some people called her, was a She Devil in human skin. Sinking her teeth into her pray, she poisons them with feminine venom. She doesn’t even have to sing them a tune, for men will follow her into the depths of the vast blue ocean without question.

Some just thought she was a slut in heels, though.

Whatever story floats.

Eddie strums a sour note.

“Dude, I’m just teasing,” his friend snickers.

Eddie scolds his friend, then the group of boys begin to slam on their instruments some more.

You sat there for hours watching Eddie slobber over his guitar. Sweat glistened down across his skin. His fingers striking each chord by heart as he did every night. Touching the strings expertly with the tips of his cherry red fingers. He begun feeling sore towards the end of the night, and the guys agree that it would probably be a good opportunity to turn in for the night.

Practice would resume tomorrow.

And you were forever and eternally frustrated.

-> <-

“Robin,” you slouched over the clear candy bowl labeled ‘Free.’ “I need to be a girl.”

Robin jabs away at the keypad of the store computer that is clearly frozen. While she might be renting out videos to people, Robin’s shit with technology.

That gave her more time to ignore her responsibilities, however, and acknowledges to your moping. With an arched brow, she sucks in her lips and she lets them go with a loud pop.

“You are a girl,” she states the obvious, while appearing to look down at your chest. “Or- so I think.”

“That’s not what I meant,” you stuff more candy into your mouth like a starved squirrel just coming out from hibernation. Squirrels hibernate, don’t they? Whatever.

“What ever could you possibly mean?” She props herself up onto her elbows.

There was a time when you were a child that a mean boy kicked dirt on you at the playground. Swooping in like your knight in shining armor, Eddie came to you to brush the dirt from your clothes and to wipe the tears from your cheeks. Feeling outcasted, Eddie surrounded himself in the weaker kids. The kids that enjoy recess sitting on the brick wall of their school, or close by the door to wait for your teachers to let you back inside.

You read books with him during quiet reading because he didn’t know how to keep the letters from mixing together. Eddie would apologize for his hair being frizzy, and all over the place. You thought he was funny looking like that.

Sometimes you wish you could go back to the good old days where your heart didn’t sing in your chest whenever your childhood best friend was near. You wish the aching in your bones would sooth itself instead of feeling fuzzy every time Eddie greeted you at a whisper from behind. That his strong hand touching you like a doll would become friendly again, and less like you want to shove him against the lockers to kiss his pretty face.

You knew better.

Yet, here you are.

Say it had something to do with what happened yesterday. Roxie’s sexy. You want her sexy. Not her. But, just the sexy. And, whoever was in the bathroom was right. You’re much more than a baggy t-shirt and a pair of denim on your legs. You grew up during the summer, and so what if you want to show off a bit. You earned your assets.

“I can’t tell you,” you put out there for Robin to read. “You’ll blab to Steve, and Steve will tell- doesn’t matter.”

You wait for her to speak, but Robin never does. She blinks at you.

“There’s this boy-,”

“A boy?!” Her voice echoes against the furthest most walls.

You wave your hands. “Robin!”

“Go on!”

“I just - I want to grow up a little.”

The jangle of the front door opening broke their conversation apart. There was nothing elegant about Eddie Munson. He slammed his jacket into the stand of desperately rentable tapes. The display wobbled. Swiveled. And, slammed into the floor. The video tapes splattered.

“Dude!” Robin huffs. “I just put those up!”

Eddie scrambles to rescue the mess. “My bad, Robs. You know? You might not want to put these right in front of the walkway. ‘Could get knocked over - see?”

Robin knew Eddie from class. Smart mouth guy with a lot to say about literature. He held a lot in his head, but once he got to a piece of paper, he could just go.

“The usual, Eddie?”

Oh, and he also rented out the same tape once a week for the past three weeks. It was a Rated R film that had a single one minute scene of a nude woman on top of a man she was suffocating. Not with her boobs- with his belt.

Robin snaps back into reality.

“Eh, looking for something new,” he fixed the display, before joining the girls at the register. “Suggestions?”

Robin slams her palm against the monitor. “Stupid thing is still frozen. Oh! Did you hear your little pal has a crush on a boy?”

“Robin!” You cringe. Turning into the wallpaper sounds really nice right about now. Hell, you’ll fix that computer if it gets Robin off the topic of you.

Anyone, she can blab to anyone, but Eddie. Where was Steve when you needed him? Oh, you are so screwed!

“What? It’s just Eddie!”

Just Eddie - yeah, Robin, that’s the problem.

“A crush? On who?” Eddie scoffs out loud.

Your jaw goes agape. “Are you saying I can’t have a crush on someone?”

“No, I just- you’re one of the guys!”

“She can’t be one of the guys forever,” Robin defends you. Perhaps she saw you twitch. “She’s a girl underneath those stains.”

You brush your dirty t-shirt.

“Robin-,”

“What? Whoever this boy is, he’s shit out of luck if he doesn’t see what we all see,” your friend continues.

Eddie teeters his balance back and forth on each foot.

“I’m going to go look for a movie,” he says.

Robin ignores him shuffling into the isles. “I’m just saying if he doesn’t like you back that is his loss. Right?”

You peak around for any sight of Eddie. His frizzy mane is locked onto a movie in the farthest isle.

“Oh my god,” Robin follows your gaze. “Oh my god! This is big- no, huge- I can’t believe before my eyes your friends to lovers trope-,”

“Robin! Hush!” You whisper at a much louder volume than you anticipate.

Yet, here comes Eddie back to the counter without a film in hand. Robin shoots you a glance that screams that she’s about to burst like a toddler who has to pee, but they can’t get their overalls off.

“Can’t find anything?” Robin intertwined her fingers in front of her.

“Maybe tomorrow,” Eddie sighs.

The sound that came from Robin’s lips could have been the earth splitting in two, and trying to suck her in or the angels above calling her back to heaven. She’s a bit eccentric.

Oh, God, you think she’s plotting.

“Actually,” she settles. “I have a film back here that we haven’t set out on shelves yet.”

“Is it a romance?” He guesses purely based on the actors gazing longingly on the front cover. “Robin, I don’t do romance.”

“Obviously,” she says as a matter-of-fact. “Anyway, this is a mystery. Hm? You know? Like clues and shit.”

“Clues and shit?”

“Maybe,” you signal ‘no’ to Robin, but she blatantly ignores you, “you two can watch it together. Hm? Solve the mystery, before the show ends? Let me know what you think!”

“Robin-,” Eddie begins, but Robin is already scanning the tape to rent out.

“It’ll be fun!”

You pinch the bridge of your nose.

“I’ll see you around six for a movie night like old times?”

You mask your embarrassment. Nodding in a set agreement, Eddie left with the film still eyeing the cover like it had just insulted him.

“How could you do that?” You shame her.

Robin shrugs her shoulders, while dancing behind the counter like a relationship fairy.

“Oh! You’ll need something to wear by then!” She shouts to her coworker. “Steve! I’m not feeling well! Will you be okay for the rest of the day?!”

“Ah ha,” Steve appears like he’s been waiting for permission to enter the conversation. “You’re not leaving me here by myself!”

“What was that? I can’t hear you,” she points to her ear, as she’s setting her jacket over her shoulders. “Ear ache.”

“Robin!”

“Huh? Oh, thank you!” She shuffles herself and you out the front door.

Warm air meets you outside. Although you wished to take off another layer, you felt practically naked as is. Cotton blend shirts were thick in these spring days. The same could be said for your denim jeans.

“Won’t he be mad?” You ask.

Robin snorts. “Steve? No.”

No explanation given - no explanation necessary. Robin and Steve were like a pair of siblings at most times. Although, knowing Steve had a thing for Robin at some point made the analogy much creepier than it should have been.

You drive yourself and Robin back to your home where your family was not. They’re out of town for the whole week doing an anniversary trip. Figuring your of the age to take care of yourself, they’ve left you by yourself with only the responsibility of keeping the home clean.

“What are we looking for?” You sit on your made bed hugging one of your pillows to your chest, while Robin riffles through your closet.

Robin shoves another dress across the hanger to the disapproved pile. Her grunts and sighs are discouraging as is, but rather her blatant disregard that you like some of those clothes is hurting even more. Or, maybe you like those clothes. You haven’t gone shopping in a while.

“Do you own anything that isn’t from Forever 40?” She jokes heartily.

You tilt your head to one side. “I like my clothes.”

“Well, we don’t have time for shopping,” she scans around your room for something. Jostling your clean laundry, your papers across your desk and the drawers under them - she finally lets out an, “Ah, ha!”

You groan. “Are you going to clean your mess?”

Clearly ignoring you, Robin holds up a sharpened pair of scissors like a magic wand. Holding one of your plain shirts in the air, she begins slicing away at every angle.

“Hey!” You protest.

She pauses. “Right, put it on.”

“Rob, that’s my favorite shirt!”

“I’ll buy you another one,” she shoves your head through the hole, and continues sniping at the edges. Fondling your chest, she measures where the top of your breast lies. “Hey! Your the first woman to let me touch their boobs. Congrats!”

You laugh at this. “Robin, as your friend, you can touch my boobs any time you need a fix.”

“Don’t tease me with a good time,” she jokes back. With one more snip, she steps away from you. “You have any skirts? No, of course you don’t. Jeans will have to do.”

You couldn’t hear Robin’s tangent. In the standing mirror hung on your wall, you saw someone new. Surely, she moves when you move. Her chest bounces while she breathes. That tan from the summer on the beach is touching her skin in a most devilish manor. You hold your chin a bit higher seeing what a few snips from craft scissors will do.

“Makeup!” Robin insists.

Pink rouge presses into your cheekbones. Those cheekbones you earned from your grandmother. That’s always the compliment your mother spoke. And, mascara coated thickly across your eyelashes. Your lashes are rather short, but with that black mascara you were seeing yourself glow with confidence.

Lip gloss that tasted like honey-

“In case you’re kissing any boys tonight,” she clicks the tube together with the wand. “My dear, you’re ready.”

You take a spin in the mirror.

“I hardly recognize myself,” you touch your hair.

Robin slaps your hand away. “Don’t mess that up, before Eddie gets here. Oh! And, look at the time, I should go.”

You’re left by yourself for another hour. Twiddling your thumbs, and checking your makeup by the minute. Eventually, you pop popcorn in the microwave and place the bowl in the center of the coffee table in the living room. You twist the bowl around, so you can’t see the chip on the side from when you dropped the bowl a few years ago.

Tapping your foot against the plush carpet beneath your feet, you travel between worlds where you feel ridiculous for dressing up like this, but you also feel hot.

Denim cuts at your waist, and you begin to doubt wearing jeans instead of pajamas. You never wore jeans after you got home. Eddie will surely know what’s up.

You have no time to change your mind because the doorbell rings through the quiet house. Stillness - as if moving would threaten your life somehow. Then, again, the doorbell sings.

You drag the sweat from your hands onto the back of your jeans. Jeans that you should have changed to shorts. He’ll see right through your ruse!

You settle your nerves with one more glance over in the mirror in your little entryway. When you open the front door, Eddie’s tickling the lavender your mom set out on the front porch last week.

“What? Your shirt go through a lawnmower?” Was the first thing he says.

You knew it.

“Erm-,”

“I brought the movie, and beer,” he held up the movie and a six pack he snaked off of his uncle. “Come on, I’m freezing out here.”

Eddie doesn’t ask where anything is. He’s been here so many times before, birthdays, holidays and any time your mother has just come back from the supermarket with “the good snacks.”

You knew each other for some time, which is probably why he’s never going to see you as someone other than his best friend. Why would you think about that? You had a shot, right?

“I popped popcorn,” you pointed in the living room.

“Sick,” he drops down into your couch. “We can go ahead and start the movie - the guys will be here soon.”

“The guys?” You blurt.

“Well, yeah,” Eddie says. “Like old times?”

“Right,” the light in your eye fades, and you just hope Eddie can’t sense the hesitance in your tone.

In the next hour, your quiet date night that had been set up by your overly optimistic friend, swirls in the direction that it is always meant to be. You squish into the couch arm rest, while Gareth battles Eddie over the movie choice. Although, this time the boys came to an agreement that this was not an action movie like Robin promised Eddie earlier.

“Where’s the gore?!” Gareth flings popcorn at the television screen. “Throw her off the ledge!”

“You want to see an innocent woman flung to her death?” You snap at him.

A piece of popcorn drops from Gareth’s mouth, and into his awaiting lap. You didn’t come to raising your tone with the boys unless something truly bothers you. Clearly, by the tightness in your chest, some of the anger spills over the edge. Quite like the woman dangling the man’s waist.

“Never mind,” you stand. “I’m going to make more popcorn.”

Taking the bowl from Eddie, you stow away in the comfort of your kitchen. Before your mother left for her trip, a folded note stacked on the island told you to not bring anyone over. But, if you are going to have boys over, she asks that you use protection. She has a wild imagination if she thinks her daughter has a sex life.

She must have passed this onto you. You toss yourself at someone, who obviously holds no similar feelings as you do. This whole night was a bust. Your eyes itch from the mascara. Your lips bled from when you chewed on them like they’re your last meal. At least the color matches with your lip gloss that you reapplied many times in the bathroom when you need a break from the crowd in your living room. And, you can’t feel your waist anymore. Tingling below the belt - and for all the wrong reasons.

“You okay?” Gareth’s voice startles you.

You spin around, and he’s there standing where the carpet meets the linoleum.

A yell from the living room suggests something mortifying must have happened in the film like the boy finally kissing the girl, or perhaps saying something romantic.

“Yeah,” you blink. “Just- making more popcorn.”

Gareth doesn’t say anything about the popcorn bags sitting on the counter next to him, but the room reads itself. You scamper over to the bag, before ripping the plastic and the bag apart by accident sending kernels across the floor. Gareth meets you at the floor below.

“Shit,” you sniff. “I’ll get the broom.”

“Hey,” he grabs your arm, before you can run off again. “What’s going on?”

You sit next to the mess on the floor letting out a gust of air from your lungs that you’ve been holding onto for dear life.

“It’s stupid,” you tell him.

Gareth moves a piece of your hair from in front of your face. “What?”

You look at him for the first time. Between you two, you didn’t have to say a word he didn’t already know. Because while you’re chasing Eddie, Gareth’s warm heart is following after you. You’re blind to him before.

“Eddie’s not going to like me back, is he?” You whisper at an almost inaudible volume. Dabbing at your eye, you wipe the single tear threatening to break the damn.

Gareth sits next to you with his arms wrapped around his knees.

“I don’t know,” he says honestly. “I think he just hasn’t woken up yet. He does talk about you a lot when your not around.”

“Really?”

“You scare him,” Gareth lets out a breathy laugh. “In a good way. He- he’s never had someone to rely on in his life besides his uncle. And, if what Eddie says is true, you’ll never truly change to please anyone. You’re loyal, and your funny. You’re beyond beautiful. The Goddesses shrivel in your light-.”

Your cheeks heat up.

“Okay, I might have added that last part,” he admits. “But, you never know if you don’t try.”

You reach out for his hand. “Thank you, Gareth.”

He squeezes your hand. “Anytime.”

You say. “And I- I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“Erm- you know.”

“I guess I do,” he looks away. “I’ll be fine.”

You toss a popcorn kernel Gareth’s direction hoping to lighten the mood. Gareth snorts and tosses one back.

“We should clean up,” you tell him.

Gareth agrees. “Oh, and - when I said you don’t change, I meant it.”

You pull at your half shirt. “Yeah, I don’t think this is me. Everyone just kept telling me to stop dressing like a boy.”

“Trust me,” Gareth suggests. “You do not look like a boy.”

“Oh, shut up,” you gather yourself on your own two feet. “I don’t know - I kind of like the look, but maybe tone it down a bit?”

“I’ll get the broom,” Gareth says leaving your question unanswered. "Oh, and I promise to keep myself and the guys out of your way the next time Eddie suggests we all have a 'movie night'" at your house."

"You caught onto that?"

"It's a classic move," he sweeps. "I can't say I wasn't going to try it on you some day."

"Well, I'm sorry that it won’t work out between us," you assure him.

"I'll survive," he won’t really look at you now, only at the task at hand. "Besides, I know how great of a guy Eddie is. If you do go out with him, there’s no hard feelings."

Gareth sweeps every last kernel from the floor, then uses the dust pan to scoop them up and finally tosses them into the bin. By the time he's done scoping out every inch of your floor, you're done popping a new bag of popcorn.

The movie night continues without a hitch (aside from the merciless damning of the film coming from each of the boys in your home). Your eye on the one man, who could never look at you the way you do him. But, you don't know that for sure.

Because, as soon as you look away, Eddie's full attention is on you.

[pappydaddy]

made for loving you (s.h.)

a/n: we are just pretending that they had the ability to remotely check their voicemail systems in 1985, okay lovelies? awesome!

tv show/movie: stranger things | pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

requested by the lovely @echos-scomplink (ily lovely!)

synopsis: steve fears his chance with y/n is ruined leading to breathless proclamations in the rain. based on i was made for loving you by kiss.

taglist: @the-weeping-author | @lilypad-55449 | @popeheywardssecretgf | @smarie7547 | @eichenhouseproperty | @slytherinambitious | @k-k0129 | @ihatepeanutss | @moralina |  @poppet05 | @rottenstyx | @boxofsilentwords | @badass-yn |  @lexi-2004 |@i-always-come-back-xoxo | @rootbeerfaygo |  @savagemickey03 *line through your user means i could not tag you lovelies!

warnings: depictions of being beat up | blood mentioned | fluff

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____

  King Steve never believed in the whole soulmate idea. He found it certifiably insane for someone to think that someone was made specifically for one person, it was baffling to him. Not only did the idea of commitment send a shockwave akin to the eight-point-zero magnitude earthquake through his body, but the idea of committing to one person blew his feeble little mind. How could someone become so in love with one person? Was it just that it is actually just socially acceptable to have affairs and simply never talk about it? He didn’t understand it. He couldn’t comprehend the rhotic lacing romance novels and movies. How could someone be so obsessed with someone that they devote their whole life to this one person? How could someone be so obsessed with someone that can be happy spending their whole life around someone? Because, certainly, his parents are not happy spending their whole lives together.

  It all fell into place like puzzle pieces in the Summer 1985 when he first laid eyes on Y/N L/N. She worked in the Ladies’ Speciality store on the same floor as Scoops Ahoy. He would see her going to the food court, passing by the Parlour on her way to her shift or leaving for the day. He hadn’t even talked to her and he was infatuated. Not a word was spoken to him from her lips and he was being driven mad by the thought. It wasn’t until Y/N came in to get some ice cream with Robin (the two forming a friendship from working so close together) on her day off before they headed to the community pool that he spoke his first words to her. 

  From there, he was entranced. It all made sense to him. Every poem ever written about the obsession of love. Every line of literature that oozed with the sense of pining. He knew that he was made solely for her. To love her. To hold her. To simply be with her. It was his higher purpose. His calling. He was simply there to be hers. Despite his fumbling attempts at talking to her, Y/N found his dorkiness endearing enough to take a chance on him by making the first move - asking him to call her.  

  Unfortunately, that’s as far as Steve got before getting trapped in a storage room and plummeting into a Russian Underground Base. Her phone number in his passenger seat and the suggestive words of a date hanging in the air of his car from where she uttered them two nights ago. If he hadn’t been trapped and, consequently, kidnapped by Russians, there would be no way in hell Y/N would be at the Fourth of July party with some jock who didn’t even know her favourite ice cream flavour. 

  “I’m sorry,” Steve blinked, a dumb look on his face as he looked at Robin. Robin cocked her head to the side with a roll of her eyes, waiting for Steve to speak as she still held the payphone receiver in the air. “I must have heard you wrong,” He continued, speaking with a chuckle, hoping she was wrong. “‘Cause it sounded like you said that Y/N left you a voicemail saying she was going out on a date tonight-”

  “It’s ‘cause of the giant flesh spider running rampant through Hawkins, isn’t it?” Dustin nodded as if he understood why Steve was so pale after hearing this news. Baffled, Steve and Robin both looked at him as he stood there, sweat staining through his graphic shirt. 

  Opening and closing his mouth like a fish, Steve shot a panicked look between Dustin and Robin. The three of them were off to the side, away from the rest of the scheming groups as Robin checked her voicemail, hoping to hear anything from Y/N to make sure she was okay. “No,” Steve nearly yelled, his voice impossibly high. “Well, now I’m worried about that.” 

  Robin, finally hanging up the phone, sighed. “She said he was taking her to the carnival,” Dread filled Steve. Obviously, Robin noticed since she continued on. “According to Hopper and Joyce, the carnival was untouched by the giant flesh spider-” She gave Dustin a pointed look for wording it that way. “And if this flesh spider is looking for this El girl, Y/N should be safe.” 

  “Again, not what I’m worried about,” Steve stressed, a hand coming up to run through his matted and grimy hair. Blood, sweat, and product weighed his normally fluffy hair down. “I’m more concerned about the fact that she’s out on a date with another guy because I was just trapped in a Russian Base for like three days!”

  Dustin scoffed, causing Steve’s eyes to point angrily at him. “Calm down, Drama Queen. It was like 48 hours,” Dustin looked between Steve and Robin, shrinking slightly as he took in the context of the situation. “Which clearly felt like three days and jeopardised Steve’s chances with Y/N. I can clearly see that now.” 

  Silence enclosed around the three as they stood there. Robin ran the voicemail over in her head, trying to decipher how her new friend felt about this date knowing her feelings for the floppy haired new graduate that currently stood across from her. Dustin, trying to gauge the situation, looked between Robin and Steve before slowly starting to back up in an attempt to remove himself. 

  Steve. Steve was a ball of anxiety. So much so that this made Robin realise that Steve had actually changed. King Steve wouldn’t have cared. King Steve would have just shrugged it off and went off to find his new conquest. She could actually see the doubts and insecurities bubbling to the surface of his mind. “Wow. Nancy Wheeler ruined you, didn’t she?” Robin whispered, but she wasn’t one-hundred percent sure that the words met Steve’s ears. His mind seemed to be screaming too loud for him to hear anything else. 

  “I should’ve just manned up and asked her out,” Steve was beating himself up. Literally. Robin watched, a look of pure shock and bafflement on her freckled face, as he beat a closed fist into an opened hand. Just enough for his already swollen, bruised, and cut face to wince but not enough for it to attract anyone’s attention. “Now, she’s probably having the time of her life with this quarterback who will get a full ride to the University of Alabama or something-” He muttered to himself, the punches continuing, concerning Robin slightly. 

  “Woah, woah, woah,” Robin’s voice cracked slightly as she lunged forward. Gently, her hands grasped Steve’s wrists, keeping him from hitting his hand again. Steve, eyes watering in sheer insecurity, looked at her. Her heart broke for both her new found friends. She knew Y/N wasn’t having the time of her life. A, she hated stereotypical jocks and, if memory serves Robin right, this guy was the quintessential quarterback. B, she wasn’t with Steve - her long-standing crush. Something she admitted to Robin drunkenly. “Go to her.” 

  “What?” Steve’s voice was wobbly. It was soft. 

  “Go to her, Steve. You remember where she lives, you dropped her off that one time when her car wouldn’t start,” She started to explain. “Go to her, tell her how you feel. Lay it all at her feet.” 

  “W-what about everyone else?” He stammered, wide eyes looking towards the cluster of people. Robin waved her hand dismissively, making him look back at her. Her blue eyes were so confident and sure. They were compelling him to listen to her. Confirming that everything will be okay if he just listened to her. 

  They stared at each other, locked in a kind of communication only people destined to be best friends could achieve. “We can survive. We will survive.” She urged him despite the fact that she didn’t believe those words one bit. Swallowing thickly, Steve slowly nodded. Brown eyes casting over the cluster of people. Some he fought side-by-side with for the past two years, some who just joined the battle. They were all probably more capable than Steve at everything. At least, that’s what he tells himself. 

  Squaring his shoulders, he stood to his full height. “I’m going,” He spoke with a firm nod. The kind of nod that sealed some of the best and worst plans in history. “I’m going to her.” Just as the rubber sole of his converse slapped the pristine tile as he started to move towards the exit, unsure of how he’s going to get to Y/N’s place with no car, Hopper’s sharp whistle of his lips stopped him. 

  Seeing a Walkie-Talkie flying through the air, landing right in the scrambling hands of a nervous Dustin, disappointment and dread filled him. He wasn’t going to be able to slip away that easily. He barely listened as Hopper, Dustin, and Erica bickered about how it was best for them to communicate, hoping that whatever the solution was could spare him. His body buzzed with the need to tell Y/N everything. The need to bare his soul to her. The need to be near her - nay. To be hers. 

  The jingle of keys brought him from his locked in zone, letting him catch the keys Hopper was throwing him in time. “Steve’s in charge.” Those words weighted Steve’s soul down to the depths of the bowls of Hell for he knew this night was far from over. 

  “Come on,” Steve gruffed, his drive zeroing in. His sole focus was simply on beating this shit for another time and getting to Y/N as fast as he could. “Let’s kill these bastards.” 

____

  By the time it all fell silent again, rain was pelting down. Once the paramedic’s gave Steve the okay to leave and the firefighters were able to retrieve one of his keys from the Scoops backroom (thank god for cold rooms), he didn’t waste any time speeding off. He knew he should probably change his clothes from something that bore his blood, sweat, and tears, but he simply couldn’t waste another moment. That’s how, after a bout of reckless driving and a few near-misses, Steve was parking on the street, peering into the darkened driveway of Y/N L/N’s house. 

  A moment of hesitation fluttered through him. One thought was about the possibility of her not being home. The other one being the very likely possibility of her being asleep given the late hour. Another thought was about her parents not appreciating a beaten and bloody person professing their love for their daughter. However, a warm glow emitting from an upstairs window and her car being the only one parked in the driveway reassured him enough for him to muster the courage back up to get out of the car. 

  “You just survived two days in a Russian base and an interdimensional creature made of human flesh. You can do this.” He breathed, pumping himself up. Shaking his limbs out, his eyes zeroed in on the front door of her house. Just like a magnet, his body started to be pulled towards her, almost as if it were sure that it was meant to be around her. With a determination greater than the determination he felt to get out of the Russian base, he started to move quicker up her driveway until he was practically running up the rather long driveway, rain pelting his shirt and hair. 

  Standing there, his chest heaved as his back tingled with a mix of excitement and nerves. Before his consciousness could catch up, his finger was jabbing the doorbell repeatedly - much to his own horror. Despite not wanting to continuously ring the doorbell, his finger couldn’t seem to leave it alone until she pulled the door open. It was like his eyes were desperate to see her and his body was doing everything in its power to do just that. 

  “I’m coming, I’m coming.” Even with the muffled voice barely making it through the wooden front door and the sound of socked feet rushing down the stairs, his finger never ceased to stop pushing the doorbell. Part of him hoped that if the Jock did accompany her back to her place, his incessant doorbell ringing was annoying him. The large majority of him, however, was mortified that he couldn’t seem to stop ringing the damn doorbell. Suddenly, the door was pulled open, the burst of air from the movement making her hair wisp back from her face perfectly and Steve was stunned into a stupor, finger pressing on the button. 

  “Steve,” A look of shock crossed her face before it deepened once she caught the sight of his face in the glow of the entryway light. “Oh, my god, Steve!” She breathed out, concern lacing her voice as her hand came up to delicately cover her mouth as she took in his nearly swollen shut eye. 

  He couldn’t muster up any words. Hell, he couldn’t even take his finger off the doorbell. Hesitantly, Y/N reached out. He wasn’t sure if she was scared of him or scared to hurt him, but once her slightly cold fingers met the wet skin of his wrist, he blinked out of the trace he had been lulled into. “I needed to come see you,” His voice was much more hoarse than what it had been earlier. His throat was dry from the lack of water, but his body was becoming more and more exhausted as the seconds ticked by, but he felt energy shooting through him now that he stood in her presence. “Robin told me about your date with the Jock tonight and I couldn’t lose you just because I was kidnapped by Russians for two days.” 

  “You were what,” Y/N blinked, expression dropping from shocked to horrified. “Steve! You need to go to the hospital or the police station! Not to my house! This is serious-” She started fretting, her hands coming up, looking like they were going to lay on his face. His skin tingled in anticipation of her touch on him and his chest heaved as he tried to control his breathing, his eyes darkening, but her hands stilled halfway there. “Does it hurt?” She breathed, hands slightly shaking as her own adrenaline coursed through her.

  Steve, with another surge of confidence, reached his own hands out to grab her wrists gently. Suddenly, as his fingers wrapped around the softness of her skin, he was all too aware that he hadn’t had a shower in two days and probably smelled horrible. On top of it, he was very much aware of the level of grime on his skin. But Y/N didn’t seem to care as her wrists seemed to sink into his hands, relief washing over her at the feel of his touch. “I’m fine. I got checked over by the paramedics, the Feds were there. I am fine,” He reassured her, noting the worry that still swam within the depths of her eyes. “But I needed to come see you. I would have ran here the second I escaped, but I was stopped.” 

  “Probably the paramedics stopped you because you were kidnapped, Steve,” She blinked and in a split second, guilt consumed him for not being able to tell her more. He was sure he would eventually tell her everything, but he didn’t want to scare her off. “But why did you need to see me so badly, you must be exhausted.” She furrowed her eyebrows, eyes flicking over his face. 

  “I needed to tell you how I feel, Y/N. Hearing that you were out with the Jock tonight, I-” He cut himself off, his throat swelling with emotion. “I couldn’t lose you. I couldn’t lose the person I was made for,” His words were like drops of blood dripping from his bleeding heart. “I can’t get enough of you, Y/N. I need to be around you and I’ve never understood the concept of soulmates until I saw you,” Shock crashed against Y/N like a tidal wave. Staring at the beaten and bruised boy, she could only manage to blink her eyes slowly as his words bleed with passion. “Y/N, there is no doubt in my mind that I was made solely to love you.” 

  Those words hung in the air like an anvil ready to squash Steve as his eyes burned into her shell-shocked ones. Her mouth hung open slightly as he could see her brain processing the words her ears just heard. Suddenly, she snapped back to reality, her jaw softly closing as she stood up, eyes as soft as a plush bed - making Steve want to lay within them for the rest of his life. “Oh Steve,” She breathed out, seemingly overwhelmed with the proclamation. Steve’s heart lurched, the anvil dropping an inch. An equally as soft smile as her eyes graced her lips, but it did little to ease Steve’s anxiety. “I thought you were never going to make a move. I thought you didn’t like me like that-” 

  Her words were cut off as Steve grabbed her face in his blood stained and, truthfully, grimy hands. In one motion, his lips nearly jumped on hers, kicking off a feverish kiss. His lips moved against her stunned ones as if she were the water he was so deprived of for two days. As if she were the thing he was derived from for so long. As if she were the air he needed in order to live. 

  He could feel the gentle touch of her fingertips ever so lightly touching his forearms as her lips seemed to match his speed, her body coming to life after falling into the shock of the sudden kiss. Goosebumps marked the trail of her fingertips as they made their way up to his hands. Soon, the warmth of her hands rested over his, just sitting there. Almost as if she was using them to tell if this was real or just a dream. Steve was worried about the same thing but the coldness of the pouring rain hitting his back as the wind blew it under the cover of her porch told him it was all reality.

  Their lungs ached, Steve’s bruised ribs pulsed from his lungs beating against them, begging for air, not realising the lips he was attached to were (in fact) his air. Their chests swelled with warmth, both from their hearts becoming electrified with love and from the burning of their chests screaming from the lack of air. Lips became feverish in desperation as they both realised that, soon, they would have to pull away. Steve hated himself as he reluctantly pulled his lips back ever so slightly, just enough for both of them to suck in air, chests heaving - panting as if they had just ran a marathon. 

  Neither of them opened their eyes, feeling the laboured puffs of breath against their swollen lips as shockwaves of tingles shot through their bodies as if they were still kissing. “Nope,” Steve shook his head. “Not enough yet.” Y/N’s eyes fluttered open out of an act of confusion just in time for Steve’s lips to pounce back onto hers, this time her feet stumbling back from the force, his body crashing flush against hers. A squeak left her lips as she felt like she was going to fall backwards but his hands immediately left her cheeks, flying to her waist to pull her against him even more. 

  “Steve-” She pulled her mouth back slightly, words muffled by his lips still, but the risk of biting either of their tongues lowered, but he shushed her, ready to let his lungs explode if that meant he could keep kissing her. “Steve-” She tried again with a giggle, hands coming up to his chest to hold him back slightly. Finally opening their eyes, Y/N was stunned for a moment as she saw Steve. His lip now swollen, the cut on his lip re-opened and bleeding slightly. His eyes (or the eye that wasn’t swollen shut) nearly blown out as if he were high. Regaining her thoughts, she cocked her head to the side, eyes softening from the heated pools they were seconds ago. “Do you need a place to stay tonight?” She asked, having only caught enough information about his home life to know his parents were barely around and when they were, they barely met the standards of parents, let alone supportive and kind parents.

  Suddenly, and if Steve wasn’t already sure, he knew he had finally found the place in the world he was looking for. He found the purpose of his life. He found the thing he would live and breathe. He found the thing he would even die for. “Actually, yeah.” He said almost sheepishly, realising his house key was on the set of keys the Russians took from him and his parents were away (shockingly). He felt scared, worried that she would think he came here and professed false feelings just so that he could have a place to sleep for the night. 

  His worries were eased with that soft smile slipping upon her swollen lips as she stepped back, Steve’s hands reluctantly letting go of her waist. “Come on in. I’ll even let you shower and sleep in my bed.” She winked, a giggle gracing the dimly lit entryway as she backed up, Steve following immediately - almost like she was luring him into a trance like state just with her beauty. In that moment, he knew he would never get enough of her and he will live everyday trying to give his everything to her.

[captainkirkk]

✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩

It's accidentally been 3 months since I posted my last fic round up, so this post contains months worth of reading and so is much longer than normal. If you're curious, this round up includes the following fandoms (in this order):

ATLA

DC (Batman) & Danny Phantom Crossover

DC (Batman)

Star Wars (Prequels)

The Goblin Emperor

The Sunshine Court (AFTG series)

James Bond

Marvel (Spider-Man)

Red, White & Blue

Stranger Things

King Falls AM (Podcast)

ATLA

Academic Excerpts and the Mortifying Ordeal of Being Studied by Scholars Who Make It Their Full Time Job by Vinces

Zuko and Aang conspired early to keep the Firelord’s identity as the Blue Spirit a secret. Zuko unmasked would only make his spot on the Dragon Throne more tenuous during a time of upheaval in the post-war Fire Nation.

Nevertheless, the post-war academics are on it. Who was the Blue Spirit?

Aang and Zuko try their best to play it cool.

Aang’s pretty successful…

Zuko? Well, he’s trying his best. -- Or where two-thirds of the story is historical “articles” set in and referencing the world of Avatar and one third is Zuko (and Aang) navigating a world where there are academic papers speculating about the prison breakout they did together.

In Utter Hones-tea by agooseinhiding

The Jasmine Dragon has been formally invited to join the Earth King's retinue as he takes the monumental first step onto Fire Nation soil since the start of the Hundred-Year War! Truly, an honor.

Unfortunately, "The Jasmine Dragon" includes Li, the owner's grumpy nephew with an outrageously bad haircut and a wardrobe that's solely green, who knows way too much about the Avatar and his teachers, and who swears on his honor that he's totally, definitely not the Fire Lord.

Somehow, the other tea servers don't believe him. But they've never gotten a chance to prove it (or disprove it, in some cases) until now.

The Jasmine Dragon is going to the Fire Nation, and Hua Ming is going to show once and for all that shop-famous enigma Li is Lord Zuko himself, or she's going to die trying.

(She is going to die on this trip.)

Ft.: General Iroh playing the biggest prank in Fire Nation history, a five thousand yuan bet, and the Jasmine Dragon tea servers.

Taking a Break (In) by Duckduck_Scribblerswan (Caellie_E_and_Vaye_R)

Part 1 of a little bit of monicker in my life (Zuko has too many secret identi-teas)

After a few agonizingly slow seconds of exhausted, confused pondering, Zuko decided there was only one logical conclusion. “You’re right," he told the assassins, "I’m here to help you kill the Fire Lord.” Like a genius.

Caldera City is holding a festival to celebrate finally having enough funds to hold a festival! Although Zuko originally deemed himself too busy to go, Sokka managed to cajol him into attending his own party, in a knock-off Blue Spirit disguise for security purposes. Zuko sneaks back into the palace right in time to catch a group of assassins sneaking out. They failed to find the Fire Lord and assume he's reinforcements.

Zuko needs to find who ordered a strike on him before they do something stupid, like order a second one. Obviously, the most reasonable thing to do is join the assassins and hope they don’t figure out who he actually is. Obviously. There’s literally no other option.

Feat. Zuko's only two coping mechanisms (mortal peril and improv theater), the world's most incompetent hit team, and another knock-off Blue Spirit who's determined to prove this "Li" isn't who he says he is.

Kindred Spirits (sent from my iphone) by Duckduck_Scribblerswan (Caellie_E_and_Vaye_R)

Part 2 of a little bit of monicker in my life (Zuko has too many secret identi-teas)

Zuko just wanted to take a breather after a stressful political summit in the Earth Kingdom. Unfortunately, some passerby with good eyesight spotted him entering an apartment through the door as Li and leaving through the window as the Blue Spirit, right before he left for the Fire Nation. The Earth Kingdom puts two and two together and, appropriately, gets four: the Blue Spirit has kidnapped Li, and presumably the other Fire Nation refugees who have been disappearing across Ba Sing Se. They must save Li and bring the Blue Spirit to justice!

Unwilling to reveal himself as either the Blue Spirit, wanted in both the Fire Nation and Earth Kingdom for treason and petty larceny, or Li, who'll draw attention to his uncle's teahouse, Zuko does the next most reasonable thing: he panics.

Meanwhile, Mai, Suki, and Toph are busy investigating who's really at fault for the disappearances of these refugees, King Kuei has realized he can get away with some truly ridiculous antics as king, and the newspapers are getting suspicious of how protective Fire Lord Zuko is of these two random people he apparently picked up in Ba Sing Se. What's up with that, anyway?

Relieved, with honors by redrobin1989

A Fire Lord’s duty is to his people; Zuko seeks out the last Fire Nation soldiers of the Hundred Year War to send them home.

ASYLUM by asfearlessasamango 

If Zuko was Azula, trapped in a golden palace with no family but Fire Lord Ozai for years. If Zuko was Azula, now trapped in a marble asylum with no way out that he can see. If Sokka visited. And the complications of a whole world followed.

DC/ Danny Phantom Crossover

Wanted: Dead and Alive by Astereae

“Hey, I do I... Do I know you?” Danny asks, a hand coming up to brush something off Tim’s cheek. “No,” Tim says. “We haven’t met.” “Oh, no, I do.” Danny says, and he smiles, teeth white and sharp. “You’re that guy who rearranged my guts!” Rearranged his- Tim glances at the knotted scars on the boy’s abdomen. He can see the shine and shadow of haphazard stitches that weren’t meant to hold forever, that tore and healed over. His- This- “WHAT!?” Nightwing shouts, equal parts confused and delighted. Tim’s fucked.

OR: Danny Fenton's been in GIW captivity for 4 months.

Tim Drake gets kidnapped by the GIW one Tuesday evening in May.

Considering how many of the Bats and the Birds have died and come back to life, it was only a matter of time for some people interested in the afterlife to come poking around. The detectives can't seem to uncover any information about the mysterious white vans, however.

And they keep losing the mysterious boy who seems to be the one person in Gotham to know anything at all.

DC

it's a long climb up the dusty mountain by whitegeraniums (puertoricansuperman) 

"The mission went," Dick echoes, a faint smile on his face. He's still in Bruce's arms, though he could easily escape if he wanted to. Something warm kindles deep, deep in Bruce's chest. Then he thinks of the other Dick, tense as a wire in his arms, shuddering at his touch.

"He had children." He says it without thinking. Dick's expression darkens. He knows where Bruce went tonight, and Bruce watches him piece together the implications of alternate dimension and evil Batman and children.

Or: When you've hit rock bottom, the only place left to go is up.

Star Wars

Misunderstanding Master by bgyeetusthefetus

“A beer please,” Obi-Wan said, his voice barely rising above the din. He placed the credits on the bar, his fingers shaking slightly as he did so./

The bartender looked down at him with a frown, his brows furrowing as he took in Obi-Wan's thin frame. “How old are you, kid?”

Obi-Wan shifted uneasily, suddenly aware of the attention he was drawing from the patrons around him. “It’s not for me,” he replied quickly, his voice steady despite the tremor in his fingers. “I’m just fetching it for my Master.”

Master is a bit of a loaded word in the wider galaxy.

The Goblin Emperor

Date With The Night by DontStopHerNow

Csethiro and Csevet conspire to give Maia a night outside the Alcethmeret.

Unfortunately, when Beshelar finds out, they have a lot of explaining to do.

queen of peace by astardanced

Csethiro broke abruptly free of the pack and came sweeping towards him with hands outstretched, probably hoping to do damage control.

“Serenity,” she said, ignoring her father, who seemed to be wanting to prompt her like a conductor. “We are honoured to have you here.”

Maia had very little experience with the specific social mortifications of an embarrassing family— his own having simply chosen to forget he existed— and it wouldn’t have been fair to make a judgement, but there was already an undeniable tinge of the ridiculous to the entire affair.

(Awkward dinners are part and parcel of the Emperor's role... but the Ceredada really are spectacularly embarrassing.)

The Sunshine Court (AFTG series)

i'm not the same as i was by perchancetosleep

The imminent return to Evermore has him jumping at shadows, and he is already at the end of his rope. Every ounce of energy every single day goes to pretending to be what is required of him—he has to override years of training (away, not towards) to perform adequately on the court, to uphold the Trojan standard, and he has to pretend that while he does it he is a functioning human and not simply a discarded toy too broken to be played with anymore.

It’s why he spent his time in Palmetto when he could walk watching every single Trojans interview and game he could, so he could memorize their speeches and their strategies and their game play so that he would not be a burden. Jean knows what he owes his new masters. And he will not fail.

(Or, Jean tries to fake it until he makes it at USC)

oh i was raised on little light by perchancetosleep

On the third Thursday of every month, Jean walks seven miles across town to visit his sister.

This is the deal that he’s struck with his sister’s foster—no, adoptive now—family. They used to claim that he could visit whenever he wanted, and it used to be Jean’s ability to sneak out of the Moriyama’s home that limited the frequency, but of course the Master had figured out where he was going, and now for years they’ve had him in their ear, telling them how Jean is unstable and disruptive and getting into fights and doing drugs, and of course they don’t want Elodie around that. She’s had a hard enough life as it is, and her good-for-nothing brother is just going to bring trouble and pain. But that won’t stop Jean from showing up, and so this is the deal that he had to make.

Jean will take whatever time he can get.

please i've been on my knees, change the prophecy by perchancetosleep

He can almost pretend, sitting in a warm house at the tiny kitchen table listening to Elodie talk about her dance lessons, that everything is normal. He can pretend that he can stay, that Elodie and him were never separated, and that everything is normal and he is good and he will get to keep this. But Jean had died in that fucking basement years ago, and he’s getting tired of forcing his body to keep going. Sure, Kevin had found a way out and made it to college and made a life, but he had a father waiting for him on the outside.

All Jean has waiting for him at home is a set of guardians that are going to be pissed off that he’s failing chemistry and that he didn’t do his chores and that he’s alive.

James Bond

Begin Again by Snoweylily

M held out the file in her hand and Q automatically took it. “It needs the new Quartermaster’s signature”. The reminder of the Major’s death, the kindly old beta who saw him for him, brought tears to his eyes, and he desperately hoped that the smoke would hide it. “... Okay. Who do I give it to?” “It’s quite a few years ahead of schedule, and quite frankly I’m not even sure if it’s going to work, but Boothroyd always spoke highly of you and you are one of the very few TSS workers still remaining. I’ve spoken to R, the only survivor with seniority over you, and she is quite adamant to remain in her current position with your approval... Which leaves you”. M held out a pen. “Quartermaster”.

Or, “I don’t just have one alpha”. Q grinned, bloody and feral. “I have nine. They’re called the double-0 program; perhaps you’ve heard of them?”

Red, White & Blue

darling, be gentle by SkyGem

In the time that he’s been dating Henry, Alex has been on the receiving end of no less than four shovel talks.

Or.

Okay.

That number may vary, depending on what exactly counts as a shovel talk.

Marvel

Intentions by MellarkandArt

“You’re just- you’re a really great kid and-“

“Mr. Stark,” Peter whispered, suddenly feeling very, very sick.

“Mhm?” Mr. Stark hummed, patting his knee.

“I- I don’t think I can do this. I’ve tried really hard to m-make myself want it, b-but I just don’t. I know you- but I can’t. I just can’t.”

Mr. Stark removed his hand and looked at Peter questioningly. “What are you talking about?”

Peter drew in a shaky breath, feeling the burn as tears fell down his cheeks. “I know you want me to be your- your- I don’t know, but I just can’t be that for someone again, it’s so- so much, and you’re married, you have a daughter, and it’s- I’m sorry. It’s just, it’s too- and I don’t even like you like that, I- I’m sorry.”

Now he’d done it, now Mr. Stark would be looking at him with a heartbroken expression, hurt and betrayed and…

Peter looked up at the man only to see nothing but shock and confusion on his features.

“Peter… Do you think that I have… romantic feelings for you?”

OR: Sometimes people’s intentions aren’t always clear, and Peter has been burnt often enough to know not to play with fire. Irondad, NOT ST*RKER, I promise!!

Stranger Things

Shovel Talks by unkreativstermensch (+ podfic)

“Oh,” Steve says. Then again, “oh,” a little quieter. His expression changes; from confusion to something pained almost. “Mr Munson, I don’t…” he takes a deep breath, his voice a little shaky as he continues. “I don’t think he…I don’t think he likes me like that.”

He doesn’t say “it’s not like that.” Neither does he say “I’m not like that.”

That’s the first thing Wayne notices.

or: Wayne decides to give Steve the shovel talk, only to realize he might not be the one needing one

King Falls AM

i can tell that we are gonna be friends by ace8013, flashsideways 

Part 1 of when the radio lights came on (This entire series would be on this round up if it wasn't so damn long)

“I’m graduating this week and I know this is weird and that I met you like a few days ago but… They like, give you tickets? And I don’t know who to invite.” Sammy blinks. “Oh,” he says. “Is this- are you inviting me to your high-school graduation?”

or, Ben graduates from college on May 13, 2015.

to a given standard of normal by neversaydie

Part 5 of cock it and pull it (This series too!!)

The first couple of weeks are… difficult.

Some things are the same. The Jack Sammy remembers sitting across the desk from him in their dingy college radio studio, rambling about the possibility that the math building was haunted; the guy who pushed him into any risky broom closet or empty office he could find to make out, because he was always an adrenaline junkie even if it gave Sammy a heart attack; the Jack who roasted Sammy for his dad jokes even though his were quantifiably worse - he's still there. Mostly intact.

Other things… other things have changed.

[Jack and Sammy start building a life after the void]

the only hoax i believe in by taizi 

“Sammy,” Ben says. “You gotta eat.”

Sammy opens his eyes. He isn’t hungry, but he pushes himself upright anyway. 

“You better not have tried cooking again,” he says, aiming for light-hearted, angling for a smile. 

He nails it. Ben’s eyes go bright and he scoots off the bed with a grin. Not so much fooled as willing to play along, grateful for the semblance of normalcy. 

Fake it till you break it, Sammy thinks with the same grim determination that got him through all of high school, and all of college, and every second of every miserable day without Jack and before Ben. 

He gets out of bed. 

Wish You All The Best by FoxGlade

“This is gonna sound like a stupid question,” Ben says suddenly, “but what year is it?”

Well, Ben has said stupider things. “2018,” Sammy answers. Ben looks to Jack, who looks to Emily, who narrows her mouth into a thin line.

“That’s… maybe a problem,” she says.

(The Christmas magic of King Falls strikes again, giving Sammy a firsthand account of his own future.)

for a higher love by helloearthlings (everything this author writes would also be in this round up if I could)

“Supreme Court legalized same sex marriage this morning, 5-4.”

Ron could tell in an instant that Sammy already knew; something about him crumpled when Ron said it out loud.

God, the guy was – sad about this? Ron’s quiet suspicion about which way Sammy swung was absolutely confirmed – the straight and narrow of King Falls might be all woe is me over the fact that they didn’t have a monopoly on marriage anymore, but no one looked this wrecked if the decision didn’t affect them personally. The question was why this had put Sammy in some sort of drunken stupor.

[Ron, Sammy, and Pride in King Falls.]

[iveseenstrangerthings]

more than friends - a steve harrington imagine

summary: a real fluffy imagine after writing angst for the past few, best friends turns to lovers. Reader is teased about their close relationship with Steve by a jocky asshole, so Steve decides to do something about his feelings. both are obviously pining for each other but just don’t know how to do something about it!!

word count: 3.3k

warnings: really cringe asshole male talk about female character (inappropriate sexual remarks) & swearing.

thanks @urfriendlywriter for the friends to lovers confession prompt!!! <3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Alrighty class, notes for the biological study are on the blackboard, you have the full hour to complete this. I expect everyone to have the practical experiment done, and their write up started by the bell. Am I clear with that?” Mrs Peters stands with her hands on top of her blooming belly, slightly leaning against the desk with her hip. 

The class grumble a response and Mrs Peters smiles, nodding. “I’ll float until my ankles hurt,” She starts, hinting to her swollen pregnancy ankles and gets a murmur of laughter in response, “Off you go!” 

The equipment is already lain out for you and your lab partner, Brad. He stands awfully close to you as you sort through the different brightly coloured flowers scattering your table. You have a feeling you’ll end up doing all the work, with Brad copying everything down in the last ten minutes. 

“Jheez.” Brad whistles under his breath as the class volume raises to the sound of students discussing their impending flower dissections. “Wonder who the lucky bastard is that gets a ride on her.” You turn to face him, your insides screaming with utter disgust, he motions his head to Mrs Peters and slides his eyebrows up and down. 

“You’re disgusting.” You say to the white peony that you’ve set out for your first dissection. Brad hears, and just laughs to you. He takes that as a joke, as a compliment, and it disgusts you even more. “Can you start to take the petals off those,” your eyes flit to the five other flowers laid out in a neat, colourful row, “and make notes on their type of pollination?” A tinge of annoyance already lacing your voice.

“Their type’ah what now?” He sits picking the petals off roughly, not following any of Mrs Peters prior instructions, and that fills you with rage. As someone who excels in school and wants to do well, your lab partner pairing feels like someone, somewhere, wants to torture you. You realise that it’s going to be easier, and less painful, if you just do it. Just crack on with the lab practical and let Brad sit there and sniff the pretty petals. “Can you get high on this stuff?” He says, his nose dotted with a tiny bit of pollen from where he dug it into the centre of the flower.

You widen your eyes and nod enthusiastically, “High as a kite.” You confirm, sarcastically, and his eyes glow back at you. Jesus...

Time passes and you’re in your element, investigating stigmas and anthers up close under the microscope, adding to your quick diagrams of each part with brief, but helpful, notes. Ones that Brad will no doubt copy from in due course. He’s sitting, like an impatient child, folding and tearing the petals he picked off earlier. The only time he’s made an effort so far is when Mrs Peters made her rounds and he came to stand by you and ‘make notes’ on your observations, only to sit back down again and scribble in the margin of his notebook when she slunk back away.

“Harrington shown you a good time yet, huh?” Brad’s voice breaks the silence between the two of you and your cheeks flush a deep red as you squint through the lens of the microscope. A thick glob of saliva forms under your tongue which you swiftly swallow back. “Come on, we’re in biology... can we not discuss things like that?” 

You lift your head from the lens and look at him. His face is expectant, expectant of your response, hoping for a bite back, and he calmly crosses his arms over his chest. Your cheeks are still firing up, your vision goes slightly blurry for a short while as white-hot anger burns up inside you. After glaring at him for some time, you return to your position at the microscope.

Before you could realise, he’s bumping your arm with his and leaning down to speak to you, not even the beautifully intricate flower beneath you is giving you any sanity. “If he’s too much of a pussy to do it, let me show you what a good time is really like.” He’s so close you can feel his breath warm your ear and send shivers down your spine, feeling like it’s hitting every vertebrate on the way down. 

“Steve and I are just friends.” The more uninterested you seem, the more likely he is to give up on his pursuit and just shut the fuck up. Or so you’re hoping. 

He scoffs, “Pfft.” His tongue creeps from his mouth and licks his bottom lip, “Friends with benefits? C’mon. I ain’t stupid.” He goes quiet then you feel a soft tickle forming down your spine, Brad’s finger. Then, his breath back in your ear, “Bet he doesn’t know your sweet spots.” 

You shoot back from Brad, holding your hands up, like you’ve been scolded with a hot iron, “Okay. That’s it.” You charge from your station down to the front where Mrs Peters sits, grading papers. “Mrs Peters.” You say, quietly now that you’re down here, not wanting anyone to hear your conversation. In your hands, your fingers tremble slightly with the adrenaline of the conversation you just had. “I would like to request a change of lab partner.” Your voice comes out strong and confident but your face paints a different picture. “Please.”

Mrs Peters looks behind you, at your now half empty desk, and to Brad who sits and moves stems and petals around the table into a phallic shape. He grabs the attention of the pair in front, who seem displeased at the childish distraction. She raises her brows in his direction, when he meets her glare, his cheeks flush a light pink, and he rearranges the flowers into the muddle they were before. 

“Say no more, sweet pea.” She says with an exasperated sigh, shuffling papers to pull out her seating plan. You look over as she pulls a pencil from her pot and pats her lip with the eraser. “Eleanor’s in need of a partner.” She says, tracing over the spare seat on her plan, “That sound good?” Mrs Peter’s kind eyes meet your own and she offers you a sincere smile. 

“That would be great.” Your heart leaps with relief. 

“Finish up there for today, you can move on Monday. He can stay with me.” As you make your way back to your desk, Mrs Peters calls out from hers. “Brad Norton.” The class falls silent, her usual sing-song voice has turned cold, stern. “I don’t recall asking you to make penises with your pretty little flowers. You can stay and do your lab work, tho-rough-ly,” she sounds out each syllable in the word, the veins in her neck protruding with distaste at her student, “with me in detention.” 

The classroom remains quiet as you find your seat and complete your notes. “Bitch.” Is muttered venomously from next to you and you’re unsure if it’s directed at you or Mrs Peters, but you’re past caring. 

                                                          ✦ ✦ ✦

On Friday nights, you and Steve like to walk from school to the diner which flickers welcomingly in the dark winter light as you approach. As usual, you take to your table which is located in the corner of the diner. It is cosy. You love coming here, especially with Steve. It’s a time that you can spend together, just the two of you, have a burger, have a milkshake, and just catch up on the week. You adore your Friday nights with Steve. 

Now, you’re leaning against the comfy backing of the squishy diner chair, the fabric crinkling awkwardly as you get yourself comfortable. You’ve both cleared your plates, smears of ketchup and dustings of salt lie in remnant of what was two full plates of burgers and fries. Gluttonously, as your stomach feels heavy with the greasy food that you adore, you continue to gulp your milkshake. 

“I heard Brad Norton got a detention today in bio.” Steve finishes dragging his last fry through a dreg of ketchup before placing it into his mouth, laughing at the new conversation topic. You simply roll your eyes and let the milkshake freeze your back teeth before swallowing. 

“He’s an asshole.” You retort, swirling your straw around in the thick, creamy drink. Your eyes stay fixed on the pink substance in your glass, watching the small particles of ice slowly melt the more you stir. “I’ve switched partners, finally. I asked Mrs Peters to move.” 

“Really?” 

You nod, your brows furrowing. “Uh, yeah. I don’t fancy sitting and getting creepy back strokes from him for the rest of the year.” 

Steve sits back against the seat, “He did what?” A surge of jealousy, and anger flits through him and you can see it flash across his eyes, a change so subtle you feel proud you noticed. He knows that would’ve made you uncomfortable and he knows where Brad usually goes on a Friday night, he runs over the possibility of going there and beating the shit out of him, but quickly decides that would be a terrible idea. “Is that what he got his detention for? Being a creep?” 

You laugh slightly, “Close.” You take another gulp of milkshake. “He was making dicks out of the flowers.” You realise you’re talking to your milkshake and not to Steve, he’s noticed too and realises there’s more to this story than you’re letting on. He knows you too well. 

“You sure that’s all he did?” He knows not to push things with you, but the feeling is bubbling up inside of him. 

You toy with the idea for a moment. Tell Steve, let Steve get angry and potentially make your favourite night of the week awkward? Or, don’t tell Steve, enjoy each other’s company and go from there? 

You’ve both been close to sharing your feelings with each other on multiple occasions, sat in this very booth. The diner must have an aura that allows you to become content with your feelings with one another, almost becoming more than friends. The diner is where you’ve shared feelings, ranted about shitty weeks, shitty dates; cried into milkshakes over the clear downfall of Hawkins. But it’s also where you’ve brushed hands as you reach for napkins, letting your fingertips linger a little longer than is necessary. It’s where you’ve held eye contact as you talk about things that interest you, the other listening with intent adoration. His eyes glisten as he listens to you discuss another biological theory that you love talking about with him, his lips curling as he listens intently and marvels at your passion and drive for science. You return the active listening as he discusses the trips to the Upside Down, watch little pieces of him break apart as he cracks open his memories of things he tries so hard to supress, but keep creeping back into his consciousness. 

So, with all that in mind, you decide to tell him. “He quizzed me on whether you show me a good time.” You blurt out, placing your milkshake down and folding your arms onto the table. “said he would show me a good time, said he knew my sweet spots. Basically, he spent the lesson trying to get into my pants.” 

His face is a picture of disgust, his eyebrows furrowing so deep you think they’ll knit together. “I promise you; he is one of a kind.” He holds his hands up in defence, “We are not all sex crazed lunatics who like making people feel uncomfortable.” His features soften and he looks over to you, taking in your features as he likes to here. They look softer in the glow of the luminous light that hangs above their window, the streetlights casting a yellow tinge into the corner where you sit tucked away. “I’m sorry he made you feel like that.” His voice is sincere.

You shake it off with a whip of a hand, “Shall we get out of here?” 

He nods, leaving the money on the table. “Come back to mine? We can watch a movie.” 

As you stand to straighten yourself up, you smile back at him warmly, nodding gently at his offer. 

                                                         ✦ ✦ ✦

Warm waves of air circulate out of the heater placed by your feet as you sit in Steve’s basement on the couch, watching a new film Steve rented out. You haven’t really been paying attention, you’ve been more interested in gradually moving your limbs inch by inch closer to Steve’s, your breath hitching as you feel him doing the same. Soon enough, you’re sat with your arms pressed against one another and your leg is resting comfortably against his. 

“Can’t stop thinking about what that asshole said to you.” His voice sounds weird after not talking for so long, the only sound being the grumbling heater and the soundtrack of the film playing out in front of you.

You rub his arm gently, sighing, “Stop thinking about it Steve, he’s not worth it.” 

“No, I know.” He’s quiet for a while again, the flickers of vibrant colours on the screen lighting up his features and your eyes travel around them all. He feels your eyes on him and leans to pause the TV, the sudden cut of sound making the room feel too quiet. Your breathing slows, waiting for him to start the conversation again. Sheepishly, you slowly pull your hand from his arm, suddenly feeling awkward having left it there for so long. He turns his body so he’s facing you and you scoot back a touch, propping your arm up on the back of the couch and leaning your head against your palm.

“Penny for your thoughts?” You probe delicately, you can tell he has something whirlpooling in his mind. 

He shakes his head, smiling coyly. “Just thinking.” 

“About...” Your hands tumble over one another, hinting for him to go on. 

“You.” His bluntness makes your stomach squeeze tight, as if you’ve just dropped from one of those free-fall rides at the amusement park. His face remains unchanged, his eyes studying yours. “Thinking about you.” 

Slowly, you take a deep breath in. Unaware you were holding it in the first place. “Why me?” Annoyingly, your voice comes out as quiet as the hum of the heater, almost inaudible to someone who wasn’t trained in on the conversation. Suddenly the room feels warm, and you realise this could be the time to have the conversation you’ve been longing to have.

“’Cause I think about you all the time.”

You’d hoped all this time that he does just that.

And he does, he thinks of you when you aren’t there, when he’s lonely, when he feels sad, when he lies awake at night wishing he could turn over and feel the warmth of your skin against this. Wishing he could spend the night with you in a blur of heavy breathing, lustful kisses and soft moans. Wishing he could tell you how much you mean to him afterwards, holding you close whilst you both catch your breath and settle into the sheets in a dream-like state. He’s realising now how close he is to having all of this. To having you. If you want him, that is. 

“I know you feel what I feel.” His voice is low and his hand travels to rest just in between the two of you, like he wanted to commit to holding you but got scared half-way and changed his mind. 

A speckle of heat rests on your cheeks. “What is it that you feel?” Again, your voice is quiet, and you feel the pulse thick and fast, the heat rising up your neck from your chest. 

He clears his throat. “I know we both enjoy the time we spend together, as friends. But I don’t wanna be just friends anymore.” Silence settles over the pair of you, but you know that he’s not done yet, so you wait patiently for him to continue. “You make me feel so comfortable and you always know how to cheer me up, when to give me space, when to distract me from whatever’s going on...”

Hairs on the back of your neck prickle as the tingling sensation of adrenaline courses through your body. He continues, “I hate the fact that even assholes like Brad know there is something between us.” He sighs softly but carries on, “The fact that we haven’t even done as much as discussed how we feel, yet he’s happy to make degrading sexual comments to you about us.” 

You nod along in agreement. “I know.” Suddenly, your whole body feels drawn to him and you slide back along the couch, shuffling down into his side and placing your head in the crook of his neck, resting your arm over his stomach. This feels right, you think to yourself happily. “I love spending time with you, too. I have loved growing close to you these past few months and I-”

He lets his arm fall around your shoulders and he cuts you off, “Wait.” He insists as you feel his other hand come to rest gently against your neck, his thumb resting lightly against your jaw. “Look at me when you say it.” With his hand still resting on your neck, he gradually guides your face up so that it’s inches away from his own. His eyes travelling lazily over your features he’s grown to know so well before locking in with your own. 

Inside your chest, your heart is hammering wildly. Never have you been this close. Never this intimate. “I want to be with you, Steve.” You quietly admit, although it’s not much of a shocker. A smile forms on his lips, which have now moved ever so close to your own. Impatient and running on adrenaline, you close the gap between the pair of you and bring your lips together. His hand stays firmly on your neck, his fingertips gradually gripping the hair at the nape of your neck as your fist grasps his t-shirt as the kiss intensifies. 

The months of longing are finally coming to a head here and now as you are both desperate for each other. Not just in a sexual longing, but an emotional and physical intimacy longing, too. You can feel yourself getting lulled further into the kiss as his tongue searches for your own. 

After a few moments have passed, you both pull away gently, chests slightly heaving as you both work to catch some of your breath back. You rest your forehead against his and brush your nose past his, moving back to give him a small kiss on the corner of his mouth. “What do you say then?” You can see the happiness radiating across his face, the creases by his eyes and the soft pink glow gives it all away. His thumb traces across your cheek, “You wanna give us a shot?” He says.

Nodding, you reflect the same happiness glow that Steven is portraying. “I wanna give us the best shot.” 

Satisfied, he takes his hand back from your face and you feel how hot your cheek has been under his touch. He holds you close to him as he reaches back down to play the movie. A couple minutes later, he clears his throat. “And, if ‘Brad’” He uses air-quotes around his name, “Or any of his asshole friends wanna make any comments to you again, I’ll drop those motherfuckers.” He point blank says as his eyes follow along with the scene playing out in the movie before you.

The sudden threat from Steve brings a laugh out from you and it fills the room. Your shoulders shake as your laugh intensifies; he gestures his hands towards the TV. “Hey, do you mind keeping it down? Trying to watch a movie here.” He tuts and shakes his head playfully before resting it on top of your own, tracing his fingertips over your arm so that tiny goosebumps raise on your skin. A couple of minutes later, you find your breathing rising and falling at the same time as Steve’s, your eyes fall softly closed as you’re lulled into a light sleep, cocooned under the blankets and Steve’s arms. 

[choerypetal]

Love at first Sight / Steve Harrington x Winchester!Sister

Summary: The reader, as the younger sister of the Winchesters, moves to Hawkins to investigate a hunt after losing contact with their father, John. Unbeknownst to them, Hawkins harbors dark secrets, particularly when a certain boy rescues them from the monsters.

ps: This is my longest story to date, and I had so much fun writing it. I hope you enjoy it just as much! Since English isn't my first language, I apologize for any minor grammar errors.

word count; 6ks.

tag list ; @figurantedefilme

“Father, hasn’t come back.” 

Dean’s words reiterate in your mind as you sat in the passenger seat. Sam, your twin, understood the potential consequences of bringing you along. You vividly recalled his argument about the test you had the next morning, how he had done everything possible to support your decision not to get involved. The thought of dragging their little sister, on the brink of graduating high school, into family matters made him troubled. "And where exactly is the location?" he asked, struggling to conceal his irritation while casting worried glances in your direction. 

Dean understood he had no alternative. If given the opportunity, there was no doubt he would have ventured alone. However, giving John's unequivocal instructions left no room for debate on the matter. When family, particularly your father, was concerned, it was imperative for everyone to participate, regardless of their preferences. Dean's grasp on the steering wheel tightened as he disclosed the destination you were bound for.

 “Hawkins.” 

Hawkins was nothing like Kansas. After an eight-hour drive with multiple stops, your brothers took turns at the wheel. For once, you all agreed that your father should be immensely grateful when you finally rescued him, especially given the uncertainty about where to start. It wasn't until you checked into a motel near Hawkins that the research on the haunting began in earnest.

Dean had gone to buy some food while Sam and you continued your search. The sun had set, giving way to the shimmering stars of the night. One of the things you couldn't help but admire about Hawkins was the luminous presence of its own scenery. You were stargazing from your motel window when you heard the door creak open and Sam's voice, poised to relay any information about your father's whereabouts. But it was Dean who spoke first, interrupting Sam's rambling about anything he could find useful. "So, you're telling me there are no official records, just a stupid student article about the incident that happened, what, a year ago? When it all started with a boy going missing?"

"Maybe we should ask for the chief," you suggested, recalling the man around your father's age whom your brothers had seen at the gas station an hour earlier. One who could definitely be a source of information. However, your brothers dismissed the notion, unwilling to involve others. "No, no, no," Dean said, pulling food from the plastic bag and placing it on the table. Sam, still engrossed in his laptop, grabbed the first item his hand found. "The one thing we definitely can't do is involve the cops, especially the sheriff."

And he was right, much as you hated to admit it. Dealing with the cops had never been your brother's strongest suits. Recalling numerous arrests, all tied to their hunting activities, with your father or Bobby often being the one to bail them out.

"I think I found something," Sam said, capturing your attention. Dean snatching the laptop from him, causing Sam to roll his eyes and start munching on his sandwich. "Demogorgon, really?" Dean said, almost offended by the article. What struck him, though, was how off the situation felt with the missing boy and the lab in Hawkins.

"I don't know, man. Don't look at me like that. Just read further," Sam insisted as Dean tried to process the information. Despite their extensive hunting experience, from Wendigo's to the King of Hell, Dean was on the verge of dismissing the student article entirely. This seemed like a stretch even for them.

"And you're telling me Dad went missing because of a half-man, half-creature that feeds on human powers?" Dean asked incredulously. Sam chuckled at his brother's disbelief and nodded. "That's what the article says," he confirmed, though Dean remained unconvinced. He needed more evidence, which meant by morning they will have to start questioning anyone around Hawkins. "Tomorrow, first thing. If the rumors are true, and as much as I hate to admit. Dad might be the creature's next snack anytime soon."

The next morning in Hawkins, you and your brothers headed to the nearest diner. Unlike other places you'd visited, Hawkins had a surprising calmness to it. You were particularly excited to visit the DVD store that had caught your eye, likely the only other place of interest besides the arcade. You always made a point to bring something back from each mission—a habit your brothers found odd yet endearing.

"Please," you begged Dean as the three of you walked into the diner. He rolled his eyes as you all sat down and ordered the usual breakfast: two coffees and an orange juice for you. "What do you even need at a DVD store?" he asked. "Maybe it could also be a good excuse for you and Sam to investigate," you replied with a hint of amusement. Your brothers exchanged a glance and thanked the waitress as she brought the food. "She isn't wrong, you know," Sam agreed, seeing the potential in the idea. "And if it makes Y/N feel at home..." 

"Fine," Dean finally conceded with a sigh. "But after that, we're heading to the trailer park." He insisted, knowing it was one of the areas where the creature had reportedly lingered and the last place your father was apparently seen.

"Robin, I told you, the last time I flirted with a woman, I couldn't even avoid making her cringe," Steve sighed as he brought the DVD tray to restock returns. Behind the counter, Robin mentally tallied her best friend's countless failures, a smile playing on her lips. “I call dibs on the next client.” As she noticed three silhouettes entering the store, her attention shifted entirely to them. "Welcome!" she greeted them, her tone ambiguous enough to make it unclear whether she enjoyed her job or not. "May I help you?"

Your brother wore an expression of determination. Sam, ever the polite one, smiled first and quickly refocused on their primary mission: finding your father. "We just need a few pieces of information," he said, presenting their fake FBI cards. You leaned forward, peeking between your brothers. Immediately catching Steve's attention. Outside, Max and Billy, being new in town, added to the unusual sight of newcomers, especially at this time of year. Steve couldn't help but admire this in awe. "I'll go look for a souvenir. Don't wait for me," you said, glancing at them one last time before heading off. 

"Alright, Chipmunk, just don't take long," Dean replied, prompting you to roll your eyes. Steve noted the nickname, remembering it all too well. As you made your way toward the shelves of tapes, Steve remained with your brothers, soon summoned by Robin.

"It's about their father," Robin had filled Steve in on the situation. Wherever their father was, it didn't sound promising, especially with everything happening—the Demogorgon, Vecna—anything could be connected. Observing Dean's expression shift from annoyance to complete shock, as Sam realized that dismissing the student article might have been their first mistake.

"So... you're saying you fought one of them?" Sam directed his question to Steve. Usually, Steve couldn't resist a bit of ego-boosting, but the serious expression on Dean's face and his repeated glances in your direction, ensuring you wouldn't make a mess, made Steve reconsider. Perhaps setting aside the flirting was the wisest choice. Thus, he simply nodded. "Yes, thanks to Dustin, who obtained the information initially. Even the police are clueless about what's truly occurring."

The Winchester brothers exchanged glances. "Dustin?" they asked simultaneously. Steve nodded in confirmation. "Yes, and not just Dustin. We also have El, who possesses superpowers. She's been instrumental, but given your father's disappearance, someone would have found his body by now or—" Steve hesitated, unwilling to entertain darker possibilities, especially after their experience in the Upside Down. He shared a concerned look with Robin, who shrugged, considering various scenarios. "Wait—let me just process all of this," Dean interjected, taking a step back. Robin offered him a seat at the counter, which he gratefully accepted as he attempted to piece everything together.

"So, let me get this straight: first, this kid Will goes missing, then you guys run into some Demo-whatever-the-hell-it's-called, and now there's this girl with random powers who was held captive in a lab by some Vecna creep?" Dean recalled how vague his father had been on the phone the previous night, mentioning he'd be at some sort of lab. The thought worried him, prompting Sam to give his brother a concerned look. "Are you okay?" Sam inquired. Dean hummed a yes and locked eyes with Steve, who swallowed nervously. Despite only meeting briefly that day, something about your older brother made Steve fidgety. Dean paused momentarily, then retrieved an article from his back pocket and placed it on the counter. Steve immediately recognized Nancy's handwriting.

"Not to sound arrogant, but that's your source?" Steve gestured towards the paper, blinking twice. While Nancy's article was informative, she had to simplify and spice it up to attract readers for her publication, not to mention keep the whole Upside Down ordeal a secret. Steve distinctly recalled her mentioning that. However, he hadn't anticipated it would attract a group of hunters brandishing fake FBI badges. Despite his reservations, he refrained from commenting on it. "Also," he added, indicating their badges, "this whole fake badge charade doesn't fool us. We've already dealt with the Russians trying that stunt," he remarked smugly. Just as you arrived with a stack of DVDs, you couldn't help but laugh. "See? I told you those FBI badges were outdated."

Sam's lips curved into a playful smile as he observed your reaction. Despite disliking that you were traveling with them and missing out on a normal life outside of hunting, it was gratifying to see you interacting with people your age. Your formal demeanor while conversing with Steve, who nodded in response to your comment, was refreshing, as were the small interactions you shared with Robin. "Cash?" Steve inquired next, prompting an eager nod from you as Dean stepped in to pay. "But I have enough!" you protested, pouting adorably—a sight that Steve found strangely endearing. He snapped back to reality as your brother impatiently waited for him to retrieve the cash. "Want-Want the receipt?" Steve asked stuttering slightly, to which your brother shook his head. As the three of you prepared to leave the store, thanking the two employees one last time, Dean paused, causing Sam and you to exchange a curious glance. Dean clearly had something in mind.

"Can we arrange a meeting spot?" he inquired. Steve and Robin shared a glance, aware that the next day they would be assisting Dustin in searching for his friend Eddie. It appeared to be an ideal opportunity, particularly since your brothers intended to explore Hawkins' forest as well. "Skull Rock?" the younger boy proposed. Neither your brothers nor you were aware that you would have more company than anticipated. Dean hesitated, but upon seeing your radiant expression as you held the stack of DVDs you had purchased, you spoke up on their behalf before he could respond. "We'll be there!"

Steve's prediction proved accurate. The following morning arrived, and he remained uncertain whether you would indeed appear, let alone bring your brothers along. The previous night, after interviewing numerous locals, you had practically pleaded with them to join, convinced it was an excellent idea. Considering your father's tendencies, initiating the search in the forest seemed logical. "If this is because of that Steve boy again," Dean interjected with disdain evident in his tone, prompting you to roll your eyes. "It has nothing to do with him! Besides, he's taken down one of these creatures before. I'd sooner trust a DVD seller than a random sheriff at this point." You made a valid argument, and upon witnessing the resolve in your expression, Sam concurred, "She's got a point." With a sigh, Dean drummed his fingers on the steering wheel before starting the engine without another word and directing the car toward Skull Rock.

"So who are we waiting for exactly?" Dustin inquired impatiently, observing Steve's restless pacing. "And what's with the sudden nerves?" Robin teased with a smirk. "It's Y/N." "Y/N?" Steve spoke your name, almost offended. "Oh, so you know her name?" Robin enjoyed Steve's irritation and couldn't resist teasing him further. "She mentioned it before they departed, in case you were paying attention, lover boy."

"They?" Dustin regarded the two adults before him, clearly perplexed by the situation and the strangers they had involved. "Her father vanished, and her brothers, who are apparently hunters, were dispatched here. We're just hoping we don't stumble upon their father's lifeless body along the way," Steve explained. He hadn't intended to sound so severe, but his nerves had taken over, leading him to adopt a touch of sarcasm. His confidence faltered as he heard your brother's voice drawing nearer. "Y/N, this is nonsense. We should've contacted Castiel."

"Yes, but remember, Castiel's at the hospital right now. He needs the rest," you reminded them, recalling the events of the last hunt. "Come on, grumpy old man," you added, grabbing Dean's arm, eliciting a whine from him, while Sam chuckled, enjoying the moment. As your eyes met Robin’s, you waved at her. "Robin!"

Robin was the first to notice your arrival and approached you with a hug. You were introduced to Dustin, whom they described as the clever one, and who had some knowledge about the creatures and your father's potential whereabouts. Lucky for him, he had mentioned about seeing a man whose description bore a striking resemblance to your father's, which he promptly relayed to Dean. "So, that's how you stumbled upon this entire Russian trap?" you inquired. They all nodded in agreement, but their conversation was interrupted as Eddie emerged from his hiding spot, causing you to startle slightly.

"Dustin, you rascal," Eddie's voice reverberated in your thoughts. Amidst the chaos of your missing father and the onslaught of curses from Max and Eddie, whom you had only just met, Eddie extended his hand to shake yours, his fingers lightly brushing against yours as he flashed a smile. "Haven't seen you around before, sweets," he remarked, managing to find humor in the situation despite its gravity, prompting a slight cringe from Steve, who had been the first to encounter you. Yet, you couldn't deny that Eddie exuded a certain charm of his own. "We've been sent on a mission. My father disappeared around here a few days ago, and my brothers, who are hunters, insisted I come," you explained, introducing Dean and Sam to everyone present, including Lucas, Max, and Nancy, all of whom reciprocated with their own introductions.

"And I assume you're familiar with me," the metalhead sighed at his presence, wishing for a more auspicious introduction. You shook your head, seeking confirmation from Robin and then Steve. "Eddie," Steve answered, somewhat irritated. "The 'supposed boy' who was involved in the cheerleader's death?" your brother recited from a news article. But quickly flinched and groaned in discomfort as you took the crumpled article and hit it against his chest. "Good Lord, Y/N, what was that for?" he protested as you gave him a knowing glance. 

"Do you get a serial killer vibe from him?" you questioned, coming to Eddie's defense. “It’s alright, Y/N, there’s no need…” Observing the unfolding scene, Steve couldn't help but wish he were in Eddie's position, but circumstances had changed since your meeting with him the day before. Determined to contribute, he spoke up. "Shouldn't we be, you know, taking action instead of just standing around? Especially for their father, Dustin, and everything?" 

Dustin briefly glanced at Steve, recognizing that familiar look of jealousy. First, it was with Nancy, and now it seemed directed toward a complete stranger. Amused, Dustin couldn't resist teasing him and feigned ignorance, only serving to make Steve's jealousy even more evident. Meanwhile, you were completely absorbed in Eddie's presence, oblivious to Steve's inner turmoil. Dean, always the vigilant brother, interjected, "Come on, lover boy, no time to waste," playfully tousling your hair as he noticed Steve's uneasy glance. You muttered a few choice words before smoothing down your hair. It was endearing to witness the two men vying for your attention, but it also put Dean, the protective brother, on edge. "Sammy?" he called out, turning to Sam, who was already assisting Dustin in plotting the next course of action. "Ready?"

You, on the other hand, gave a final glance to Eddie, who appeared ready. "Lead the way, sweetheart," you encouraged. The walk proved lengthier than anticipated, and as the sun began to set, the sky revealed the first twinkling stars, a sight you never failed to appreciate. Steve made a point to remain by your side throughout. "Look!" you exclaimed, prompting Steve to recall the way your smile lit up your face. Your observation caused everyone, including your brothers, to pause in their tracks. "The stars seem larger tonight," you remarked in awe. "Are you a fan of astrology?" Eddie inquired, leaning closer to you, and you turned to regard him. "And you?" you countered. He shrugged. "Not particularly, but now that you mention it, Hawkins nights do hold a certain allure, don't they, Steve?"

"Indeed," Steve responded, the faint edge of irritation apparent in his tone. Eddie noticed, recognizing the signs of infatuation, and chose not to press the matter further. "Perhaps," he suggested, "rather than discussing stars, we should direct our attention to..."

An interruption broke the silence—a familiar screech that caused Dustin to halt abruptly, prompting everyone to freeze in place. He listened intently, ensuring it wasn't merely his imagination. "Do you all hear that?" he whispered, the sound growing louder. Your brothers remained nearby, while Steve stood steadfastly by your side. You could have sworn you felt his fingers graze yours, prompting you, out of habit, to reach for his hand and give it a reassuring squeeze. In that moment, he was your knight in shining armor.

Dean swiftly seized the flashlight, his actions quickened by a piercing scream resonating through the air. As you turned to confront the creature lurking in the shadows, a chill of fear gripped you, compounded by the sight of blood dripping from its jaw. Paralyzed, you sensed its menacing presence drawing nearer with each passing second. In the blink of an eye, it lunged towards you. "Y/N!" Steve's urgent voice reverberated in your mind as Dean barked orders at Sam to take the first shot. Yet, the gunfire proved futile against the relentless creature. "Steve!" Robin's frantic shout pierced through the chaos as she tossed him the bat. Everything unfolded too swiftly to comprehend.

Overwhelmed by the sheer presence of the creature, you found your knees giving way, sending you tumbling to the ground. In a swift response, Eddie rushed to your side, offering reassurance in a soothing tone. "It's alright, it's gone," he repeated, his words a steady anchor amidst the chaos. With trembling hands, you instinctively shielded your face, attempting to suppress the rising tide of screams threatening to escape.

Unbeknownst to the group, your father had been silently observing from the shadows all along. With keen interest, he monitored the actions of his two sons and daughter, though the sight of you among them caught him off guard. This situation served as a test, one that Dean might soon recall—it was designed to assess whether the two boys were prepared to tackle cases beyond their usual scope. However, your involvement was an unexpected twist, not part of the original plan. Little did John know, another version of himself had been lurking much closer than anticipated.

Sam was the first to discern John's presence. His disbelief was palpable, tinged with a hint of revulsion at the sight of his father seemingly unscathed, contrary to the myriad theories the three Winchesters had fervently debated in recent days. "Dad? Dad?" Dean's puzzled expression mirrored Sam's confusion, just as Steve swiftly dispatched the Demogorgon with a well-timed blow. 

"Boys," John greeted with a smile that felt forced. Max, sensing an underlying unease, found herself growing suspicious. Though not intimately acquainted with the Winchesters' father, her own encounters with flayed individuals had honed her instincts. "Guys," she interjected, attempting to capture Steve's attention, "I have my doubts about him." Steve, casting a brief glance at Hargrove, immediately redirected his focus upon hearing your faint cries, ensuring your well-being as he knelt beside Eddie. Meanwhile, your brothers stood frozen in astonishment at the sight of their impostor father.

"Dean?" Max's voice reverberated in your brother's mind, prompting him to turn towards her. "Yes?" he replied, noting the concern etched on her features. An instinctual feeling swept over him, suggesting that the figure before them wasn't their father. With Sam in close proximity, Dean couldn't resist beckoning him over, yet there was no response. "I don't believe it's your father," Max murmured softly, her words carrying a weight of conviction. "And what leads you to that conclusion?" Dean inquired, though inwardly he harbored similar suspicions. Despite clinging to a glimmer of hope, he remained open to Max's insight. "Do you notice any discrepancies?" Bingo. Dean scrutinized the man masquerading as their father, discerning subtle nuances in his smile, his gaze, and the feigned affection. It became increasingly apparent that whatever entity had taken control was failing miserably at replicating their father's mannerisms.

"I'm relieved to find you all here. I was growing concerned," the voice emanated, its tone unsettling. Max's intuition proved correct. Sensing trouble, Sam moved closer while Dean hastened towards him, their actions synchronized with the abrupt sound of another gunshot. The bullet found its mark, striking the impostor masquerading as John. A sickly green fluid oozed from his mouth, portending imminent danger. His once-human eyes now glowed an eerie white. In a stroke of luck, John had managed to discharge a bullet into his counterfeit form. Sam's eyes widened in horror as he cried out for his father.

Dean's grip tightened on his firearm, grappling with the uncertainty of the situation, questioning the authenticity of the figure before him. John's eyes met yours, a silent challenge conveyed through his gaze. Despite the tension, you managed to steady your breathing, feeling the weight of the moment. With Steve's presence lending you reassurance, you stood your ground, determined to maintain composure amidst the uncertainty.

"Bringing Y/N along, really?" Your father's tone dripped with a mix of disgust and shame, causing Sam to sense the weight of the situation. Understanding the pressure you were under, he rose to stand by your side. Meanwhile, Eddie and Steve, recognizing the need for composure, subtly suggested maintaining distance, hinting at the gravity of family matters. Despite their advice, you clung to their shirts, silently pleading for their support. "Please," your eyes implored. Thus, you, Sam, Eddie, Steve, Max, Lucas, Dustin, Robin, and Nancy maintained a respectful distance, observing the unfolding events.

Dean harbored discontent towards his father's stance on involving you in the discussion. While it had been acknowledged that reaching a certain age would inevitably draw you into the hunting lifestyle, akin to Sam's trajectory, Dean remained disheartened by the prospect. He often cited Sam's own journey, pointing out how it led him to abandon Stanford and commit to hunting full-time. Unlike Dean, Sam advocated for a conventional life for you, one filled with relationships and camaraderie. The time spent in Hawkins only solidified this perspective for you. "She's prepared," Dean asserted, though John's skepticism was evident.

"Y/N, return to the car," your father's voice rang out, commanding attention as all eyes turned towards where you knelt, shaking your head in defiance. "I said, return to the vehicle," he reiterated, employing the same authoritative tone he used on Sam during the vampire hunt. Just as you were about to interject, Sam's figure materialized beside you. Sensing the escalating tension, Steve cautiously ushered Eddie away, allowing space for Sam to intervene.

 He knelt beside you, meeting your gaze with familiarity, recognizing the turmoil reflected in your eyes—a familiar sight during conflicts between your father and himself. Understanding the need to address the situation decisively, not only for his own sake but for yours as well, he inquired, "Do you want me to speak to him, instead?"

A silent sob and a nod conveyed everything. "No, Dad," Sam's voice, grave and resonant, shattered the stillness. He reserved that tone for moments of utmost gravity. Dean attempted to interject, "Sam!" but his words fell on deaf ears; Sam had already approached their father. "She's not prepared," Sam asserted, his gaze penetrating the darkness of the night. Towering slightly over their father, he leaned in, exuding an air of palpable tension. "You are the reason she departed in the first place. In any case."

"What did you just say?" John's voice carried the weight of authority, now laced with a menacing undertone aimed at both his son and daughter for their insubordination. "You heard me," Sam retorted unwaveringly, his gaze hovering dangerously close to his father's collar, poised for confrontation. Yet, he refrained from physical action, mindful of the precarious situation in Hawkins. The tension between the two men simmered, with Dean positioned between them, striving to defuse the escalating conflict. "Yes, you left when your brother and I needed you. You chose her over us! Sam! You—"

"And let's not forget, Dad, you're the one who said, 'Don't come back.' You slammed that door shut on her, not me! You were just angry because you couldn't control her anymore!" Dean interjected, seizing his brother's collar to preempt any potential altercation. John, their father, fixed his gaze on you. Sam's accusation hit home. Despite your love for him, the scars from his domineering nature and the dangers of the hunt still haunted you. Was it all to prove a point about strength? Even now, the memories of that day haunted your dreams. 

"We're all exhausted," Dean interjected, attempting to diffuse the tension. "Now that we've found you, maybe we can head back to the motel." Sam's expression betrayed his reluctance, but it seemed like the most prudent course of action. With their father located, the Winchesters knew their business in Hawkins was concluded. However, your intentions were different. You had someone else in mind: Steve.

Steve observed the scene with mounting fury. The family conflict played out before him, and seeing you curled up, trying to hide your distress, fueled his anger. He was furious at your father for forcing you into a life you hadn't chosen, for making you feel trapped by the family legacy. Watching your brother stand up for you only deepened his ire. Later that night, while your brothers tried to calm your father. From how you would see him gently caressed your cheek, wiping away any lingering tears, and let you collapse into his arms. Murmuring soothing words such as, "Hey, it’s going to be alright. I’m here." And he meant it. He stayed with you all night, knowing that by tomorrow, you might be gone. Or so he thought.

The following night, you faintly recalled your brothers arguing, their voices rising until they stepped outside to avoid waking you. The hunt had left you drained, but your father's harsh words lingered in your mind. With your eyes closed, feigning sleep, you heard the front door of the motel room creak open. Your father entered and knelt beside you, gently brushing the hair from your face. The look on his face, one you couldn't forget, made you wonder if Sam had managed to get through to him. "I am so sorry..." he murmured softly.

His voice was hoarse from crying. Whatever they had discussed was more significant than you had imagined, affecting not just you but Sam as well. As his twin, you had always stood by his side, through thick and thin. Your father, recognizing this bond, finally broke the silence, "If you want to go to college," he said, his voice laden with emotion, "then you can. I love you."

He hadn't wanted to wake you, but his genuine words stirred you. You couldn't help but lean in and wrap your arm around his waist just as he was about to leave. Initially thinking you were asleep, his eyes widened in surprise, then softened as he smiled and returned your embrace. When your brothers returned with food, Sam smiled but refrained from teasing, not wanting to embarrass you. "Dinner?" he asked simply, the warmth of the moment lingering in the air.

Your father glanced at you as you wiped away the last of your dried tears. Nodding, you joined the three men at the dinner table. As you ate, your thoughts drifted to Steve and the longing to see him one last time. "I know we're leaving tomorrow, but..." you began, cheeks flushing. Dean, catching on immediately, spoke through a mouthful of sandwich, "The lover boy?" He raised an eyebrow. Both Sam and your father chuckled, with your father raising an eyebrow in mock confusion. "Who?" he asked, though he clearly knew. "Steve," you murmured, so softly that your family made you repeat it. "Who?" they echoed, smirking. "Steve! Alright, jeez. Anyway, I have to return my DVDs anyway."

Dean rolled his eyes, even though he was notoriously inept when it came to romance. Seeing you with someone, especially someone like Steve, was undeniably endearing. He knew Steve was a good guy—after all, he had helped a complete stranger in the woods, which had led to more than just uncovering their father's disappearance. Now they knew their dad had been flayed. While Dean hated the idea of leaving so soon, he understood that helping Hawkins was necessary. And if it meant you could spend a little more time with Steve, he didn’t mind at all. "You know," he said in a suggestive tone, "I talked with this Dustin kid..."

You met your brother's gaze, eyebrows furrowed, sensing he was onto something significant. "Spill," Sam demanded.

"Well, I also talked to Dad," Dean began. "We discovered something more sinister lurking beneath Hawkins. They need all the help they can get, so I offered our assistance. We’ll be staying a few days to start our search." Your eyes widened in shock and joy as you processed your brother's words. This meant you might be staying for weeks, even months, given the seriousness of the Upside Down situation. And it also meant more time with Steve. “So, we’re staying?” you asked, excitement evident in your voice. Dean nodded with a smile, ruffling your hair. "Don't get too excited, Chipmunk. But yes, and Dad is joining in."

You couldn't be more grateful, and as the three of you settled into bed that night, only one thought occupied your mind: Steve.

The next morning, your brothers and father decided to eat at the nearest café in Hawkins. Over breakfast, you managed to gather more information: one piece related to Max's curse and another concerning Eddie's possible connection to Chrissy's murder, a name you learned only afterward. “And I thought vampires were bad,” you quipped, eliciting chuckles from your brothers. Given your extensive hunting records and those of your brothers and father, it was evident that this situation in Hawkins was unlike anything you had faced before.

After breakfast, while your family was investigating with Dustin's help, you decided to visit the store. Steve was nowhere to be found, so you gently placed the DVDs on the counter and waited. As time passed, your patience waned. With a sigh, you left the DVDs and some cash on the table, resigning yourself to the thought that Steve might already be thinking of someone else, perhaps even kissing another girl. Just as you were about to leave, a familiar voice called out, “Y/N! So sorry, it was my break shift. I didn’t–”

Your face brightened at his presence, a wave of relief washing over you for not considering his break earlier. You watched him clumsily put on his vest and walk toward you for a hug. “You okay?” he asked, releasing you and focusing entirely on you, his eyes filled with affection. You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips. “Yes, we finally managed to talk it out with my father,” you murmured, still processing the emotional weight of the conversation.

Steve's concern was palpable, but relief washed over his face as you spoke. “Also,” he added, a smile spreading across his lips, “I heard you’ll be staying here for a while, huh?” His teasing tone made you roll your eyes, but you couldn’t help but smile, nodding your head and murmuring a soft, “Mhm.”

"Yep, my brothers insisted on helping as much as they can," you said, appreciating their unwavering support, even in the gravest situations. It was one of the many reasons you wanted to join their hunts; balancing college and hunting didn't seem so daunting after all. "This means seeing your face all day," you added with a teasing pout, trying to feign offense. Steve's chuckle and eye roll, however, told you he saw right through your playful act.

"Ouch, I am hurt," he said sarcastically, stepping closer. It was now or never, he thought. If he waited another day, another week, who knew when he'd get another chance to express his feelings. "You know," his voice became slightly hoarse as his eyes roamed over your face and body. His fingers gently brushed your chin, lifting your gaze to meet his. Up close, you realized how striking Steve's eyes were—something you'd have to get used to. "I don't have anything planned for tonight," he purred, making you tilt your head in feigned innocence. You knew Steve had something in mind, even if he wasn't saying it outright.

"I was thinking of inviting you over for a movie night at my place. I'll cover the pizza," he offered, his words causing your cheeks to warm. While you felt the urge to inform your brothers, you decided to wait until later, until you were at Steve's house. "Alright, lover boy," you said, using the nickname your brother had coined for him. Steve grunted and rolled his eyes, dismissing the teasing. "So, tonight at 8, Chipmunk?" he added with a smirk, to which you responded with a playful glare.

"Eight o'clock it is," you agreed. Just as you felt the warmth of Steve's proximity, the door swung open. In walked Dustin, Max, Eddie, and your brothers. Dean, unable to resist, was the first to comment. "Alright, lovebirds, we've got some research to do. If you want my sister by eight, we need to get started immediately."

"Dean!" you protested, turning to face your brother with a glare. He smirked and followed Dustin to the DVD computer, while Steve protested for more carefulness. As everyone crowded around the screen, Sam approached you, leaving the two of you momentarily alone. "You know," he said with a genuine smile, "if you want to go to college—" You shook your head. Despite your father’s agreement, you couldn’t leave your family behind; you loved them too much. "No, I really think I'm ready," you replied. Sam raised an eyebrow, taken aback but relieved, and wrapped one arm around you in a quick hug.

"Then let’s kill this thing," Sam said, and you nodded, following him. Who would have thought that a place you initially hoped would hold clues about your father's whereabouts would also be where you'd find friends and someone to count on—Steve Harrington. "You okay?" Steve murmured as you joined him, noticing your brief discussion with Sam. "Yes, I am," you replied with a smile, feeling his hand gently squeeze yours. "I just can’t wait for tonight as well," you confessed, and you could have sworn you saw Steve's cheeks warm at your comment, which you found adorably endearing. He leaned in to press a kiss on your cheek, returning the favor.

"I am too," he said.

[billyhargrovesslut]

Robin Buckley

Imagines

Icecream For My Sunshine

Opened Eyes

My Little Sailors ( + Steve Harrington)

Oneshots

Short Series

Preferences

[euryleli]

I genuinely don't think Will's love for Mike is THAT obvious and I kind of hate it when it's presented like that in fanfics...

Mike is always so oblivious and it feels out of character too, maybe I'm just annoying but it makes me insane to see another piece of text where Mike is just this idiotic airheaded boy who's not even in the denial phase - he's portrayed as completely clueless regarding his feelings and identity which sounds dumb to me I'm so sorry

You could argue Mike knows something's up since s1 and s2 (subconsciously at the very least) but after that ending in s3?? When he talks to Will and then El kisses him (while his eyes are wide open and he then proceeds to space out in front of Will's closet looking so confused and weirded out and honestly kind of panicked??)

That boy KNOWS!! What he doesn't know are Will's feelings and their reciprocity. I really dislike fanfics situated right after s4 or hell, a few years down the line maybe, where Mike still doesn't seem to have even an inkling of his identity figured out.

Because that's not what the show is telling us.

Is he confused? Yes.

Is he frightened? Absolutely.

Is he dealing with crippling amounts of internalized homophobia? Of course!

Is he a dumbass? Yes (affectionate), but still... he's not that bad guys please let's be serious for a sec