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#it's always here's all the times Mike hurt Will and El's feelings and never here's all the times Will and El hurt Mike's feelings

undreaming-fanfiction · 1 year

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Imagine pretty boy Steve trapped in a mirror for his vanity.

Except he grows as a person so much that his sole purpose becomes boosting self-esteem of everyone looking into the mirror (unless they're being an asshole in which case, bye any semblance of personal worth).

"Looking great, Dustin, go and get them! Oh wait, move your tie slightly to the left, that's it, good job buddy, go go go!"

"Seriously Robin, there's no way your lady isn't all over you the moment you step in that restaurant. Did you wear smudge-proof lipstick? Time to test it."

"No, Nance, it's not weird to ask your ex-boyfriend if you look presentable, I mean, who else is better qualified? Good choice of dress for the interview, you're going to ace it."

"El, it doesn't matter how long your hair is. Yeah, it was so pretty, but it will grow back. But you know what else? You have gorgeous eyes, a wonderful smile and the way you say "mouth-breather" is everything. As long as you have that smile you'll be the prettiest girl around, so don't you dare worry about it."

"Mike, stop looking like someone stepped in your birthday cake, you're a handsome young man and Will is going to love the new haircut. If I'm wrong, feel free to come back and spread mustard all over my frame, but I've yet to be wrong. Yeah, you're a bit of an asshole too, now go and get your boy!"

"Joyce, you're as beautiful as always, but from what I know about Hopper, he'd think you're the most beautiful person alive if you were wearing a potato sack. But this dress is perfect and you look so happy. I wish you all the best on your date!"

"Yeah Jason, looks aren't the issue here...nothing I can do to help you all the ugly stuff on the inside buddy. Sure, smash the mirror if you want - good luck by the way, it's fucking cursed for a reason - but that won't make the truth hurt less, huh?"

And then Eddie accidentally steps in front of him and Steve has never seen anyone so unaware of his own beauty. And Eddie seems to be the only one apart from Robin who realizes how lonely he sometimes gets so he often takes Steve with him no matter where he goes (the big van is handy) and Steve makes sure to shower him with compliments, gradually finding exactly the right doses and right words to make Eddie understand how special he is, how radiant his smile looks, how he's so animated when he talks about things he loves-

And on the day when Eddie looks into the mirror and finally sees himself just as Steve sees him, the mirror cracks and Steve falls out, disoriented and kind of terrified, what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck-?!

But Eddie just smiles at him and hugs him, the first human touch in such a long time it makes Steve tear up. "Finally!" exclaims Eddie and pulls him even closer. "No shame at all Stevie, but that frame was fucking heavy!"

#steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie drabble #steddie au #stranger things #stranger things au

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mc-i-r · 9 months

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Disposable Heroes

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

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

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

———

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey, um… can we talk for a sec?”

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

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

“Um.. what do you mean?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey, is Hellfire still going on?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Eddie. He wants Eddie.

A voice interrupts his thoughts.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How did you-“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I really should be going, sorry.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So he walks.

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

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

Eddie. Eddie.

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

It doesn’t. Steve steps back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Steve walks out the door.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maybe this will fix him.

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

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

Would it really be so bad if he just disappeared?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh. Chrissy. Fuck.

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

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

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

“What the fuck is this?”

Shit.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay.”

Eddie’s smile grows.

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

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

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

It’s terrifying.

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

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

Shit. He’s so gone for this man.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Max. Dark. Waits. Dark. Runs.

Robin. Dark. Waits. Dark. Runs.

His house. Light.

They’re safe. He collapses.

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

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

The bat finds a new home in his trunk.

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

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

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

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hippielittlemetalhead · 4 months

Text

Part 3 (One of Us) of 'Never Took The Time (To Forget)' previously known as 'Hopper Adopts Steve But Make It Sad'

Part 1 (Hop fucks up), Part 2 (Pride and Prejudices: Joyce Edition)

Here's a bit more for you filthy animals 😘

Much like he's come to expect from the small soldiers these children have fashioned themselves into he's not surprised when they come pouring out of whichever of the twins' rooms they shoved themselves in like codependent sardines. He's not surprised by the looks of anger and disappointment and confusion. Claudia Henderson's kid -Dustin- looks on the edge of tears with a grim set to his mouth that reminds him of when the kid's mom is beyond words in her slow-burning fury. El and Will have matching looks of disappointed confusion.

What he's not expecting is the way Mike and the younger (usually more volatile) Sinclair are holding onto an incensed looking Lucas. Lucas who has always been the polite one when it came to addressing adults and the one to preach caution and thinking plans through. Lucas who has been quiet and withdrawn since Hop came back, spending his days at the edge of Party affairs when not helping in the rebuilding efforts around town or sitting at Max's bedside.

"What the fuck, Hopper?" The kid spits out and that seems to snap the rest of The Party into action. Will goes to join the two holding Sinclair back but Dustin starts near incoherently yelling in that screechy pitch only that kid seemed to be able to hit about bullshit cops and useless adults and to let Lucas go. "He idolized you, man! Would tell us all the time that you were 'one of the good ones' that if we ever needed anyone and he wasn't there, to find you. That you would take care of us because that's just what you did for people. Because you were good!"

"Lucas, chill out man." Mike pants though he's also glaring daggers at Hop.

This is where Joyce (god bless her) decides to step in. "Lucas, honey-" She says with her soft voice and big wet eyes and that warmth she seems to infuse into everything she touched. "It's complicated. There's some things you just don't understand and-"

"No! You two don't understand! Steve is GOOD. He's good and he cares and he takes care of everyone else and he always kept us safe." The kid seems to be losing some of his steam, pulling at his friends less and resigned to shaking in barely contained fury. "He gets hurt and he gets back up and he apologizes for taking a fall in the first place! He's just Good."

"I know he's been good to you kids and I appreciate that, I really do Lucas." Joyce says, her voice a little stronger, that steadiness returning. "Sometimes people in our lives can do bad things to others and we don't see it because we care about them and that's not always a bad thing. But we have to remember that the people who were wronged are allowed to be upset and that's normal to feel and-"

"You mean like Jonathan?" The room goes quiet. Will looks resigned but not surprised by Lucas' question but the rest of the kids look just as confused as him and Joyce. "Did you really think Steve broke his camera -in the school parking lot of all places- for the hell of it? Did you seriously never question it?"

Hop feels something twist in his gut. He had been so caught up in the search for Will and wrangling a frantic Joyce that he hadn't paid any attention to small-town squabbles like two teenagers having it out in the school parking lot, the destruction of personal property or what might have triggered it. He looks over the kids' heads to see Jonathan and his stoner buddy standing just outside his door. The friend looks confused but Jon is looking at his mom who hasn't noticed him yet like a man preparing himself for the gallows.

"Mom." Joyce's eyes snap from where they were locked on Lucas up to her oldest son. "Mom, I-"

"What are they talking about Jon?" It's quiet. Quiet and scared because everyone in the room knows that whatever secret reason Lucas (and maybe Will?) seems to be the only one to know Steve had for picking a fight isn't going to be good. Jonathan's mouth opens like he's going to say something but no words come out. "Honey, what did you do?"

"He took pictures of Steve and his friends the night Barbara Holland disappeared."

"Will?" all eyes except Lucas' (who is still glaring daggers at Hop) are on the two brothers. One scared and almost pleading the other disappointed and resolved.

"He hid in the bushes and took pictures of Steve and his friends with Nancy and Barbara. There were pictures of Barbara at the Harrington place before she died and he never told anyone. But there were also-" He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes like he can't look at his older brother who has hung his shaggy head under everyone's heavy gaze. "There were pictures of just Steve and Nancy. Alone together. In Steve's room."

There's a sharp gasp that he thinks came from Joyce but he's too busy watching the young man he's come to consider a son. His head is still lowered and his shoulders are curving in on themselves as he shakes off the hand his long-haired friend tries to place on his shoulder.

"Oh baby," Joyce's voice is wet again. A tone of horrified disappointment to it that Hop has only heard her use when talking to or about one other person. "Tell me you didn't."

"Then he-" Will clears his throat like this one is what gives him pause. "He was caught developing the pictures in the school's darkroom. All of the pictures. And he had zoomed in on Steve's window. Nancy was the center of the shot." The kid's eyes flit over to Mike (who is now turning an interesting shade of red as he glares at Jonathan) before he blushes and looks at the ground, "She uh-"

Lucas does not seem to share Will's newfound hesitance in the face of an enraged Mike Wheeler. "Most of the upperclassmen argue if she had a bra or not but they all seem to agree she didn't have a top."

"Oh my god." Everyone was frozen as Joyce began to crumble. "Oh my god." He reached out to catch her, her nails digging into his arm through his shirt sleeve as she stared unseeing at her oldest son.

Jonathan started forward. "Mom, I-" a hand in the middle of his chest stopped him. "Will, please, I need to-"

"Just stop, man." Lucas sighs. "You started this shit, you gotta deal with it before you hurt someone else besides Steve."

"I didn't mean to hurt Steve."

Hops feels himself frozen to the spot in a way he's not used to anymore these days. His mind is working overtime picking out all of the charges that could have been pressed even against a boy of 15/16 if any of the kids in Harrington's inner circle had told an actual adult about the situation. The veritable legal hell that would have been brought down on Joyce while searching for a son legally assumed dead.

"Is that what you told yourself when you helped Nancy cheat?" And it just kept getting worse.

Joyce gives off a whimper and the kids gathered make varied sounds of shock and disgust.

"They were broken up."

"Were they? Cause everybody at school and half the town seems to all know about you and Nancy disappearing together when Steve was still calling her his girlfriend and then you all showed back up to school, Steve beat to hell again and Nancy hanging all over you. The basketball team STILL talk about it."

He's heard enough. "Alright, that's it!" He yells out over the children yelling and Joyce demanding answers and Jonathan's friend trying to say something about there being some sort of explanation. "This doesn't help us help Steve."

Lucas shakes off the loose hold Erica and Mike still had on him and crosses his arms as he rolls back his shoulders and tilts his jaw up to fix him with a glare. The kid's stance is almost arrogant but Hop can't help but notice the way he rests his weight on his off side, his shoulders back and his posture straight without his chest puffing out ridiculously like Hop is used to from teenage boys gearing for a fight.

"I think you've helped enough, Hopper." It's quiet and biting and he lets himself have a moment of grief for the childhood these kids lost, and the fact that he's almost positive Lucas didn't pick up this easy confidence from anyone else in their monster fighting club but Steve. "You and Mrs. Byers want to play nice now cause you feel guilty and that's all well and good but what happens when Steve does something else you don't agree with without explanation? Or he and Jonathan or Nancy get in another fight? When we finally get rid of Vecna and the Upside Down for good? What happens when you don't feel guilty anymore?"

"I can't make any sort of promise you lot will believe. And lord knows I'm pretty shit at keeping them anyways. I just want to be able to try."

"He mourned you, you know. When we were told you didn't make it." That weight is back in his chest. "He held himself together around us but there were- there were moments we could tell. He and El really bonded over that. Over you. Over losing you."

"I didn't know."

"Of course you didn't. You didn't want to know."

"There's no way I can make you believe me. That I want to fix this."

"We want to, Hopper." Dustin butts in, placing a hand on Lucas' shoulder and limping up next to the other boy. "But from what you and Mrs. Byers were talking about... There's just a lot that makes a lot more sense and it doesn't inspire a lot of faith in either of you."

"We need to discuss this as a Party."

"Okay."

"That means letting us take care of it. Steve's one of us and you hurt him."

"I understand."

"So you and Mrs. Byers have got to wait till we say you can talk to Steve. That he's ready for it."

"Now, kids-"

"No they're right, Joyce. We fucked it up on our own and- and he trusts these little shits more than he trusts us right now. We've gotta do the same."

Joyce sighs, "Fine."

She's not happy about it and honestly neither is he. But if the last few years and his stint in a Russian gulag and the subsequent escape taught him anything it's maybe he needs to trust his people to do what they need to do.

The kids scurry back to whichever of the Twins' room they came from, led by a newly determined and involved Lucas and a furiously muttering Dustin. Jonathan and Joyce make their way to the kitchen and Hopper decides he's going to let them have that conversation in as much privacy as they can with a house as full as theirs.

Hopper sits in the living room, runs his hands through his hair that's finally growing out and pulls them down his face before resting his chin on steepled fingers. He hates sitting and waiting and relying on someone else for the next steps. But all he can think about is the sound Steve made. The look in his eyes. The pride in his voice the last time he heard him say, "My Hop."

That's it!

He stands up so fast his bad ankle protests and his knees pop. He limps to the front door, yelling out to the house that he has to go, has something to do. Calls out he has his walkie and that El needs to be ready on time. Then he's out the door.

Part 4.1

More coming soon! Hopefully! Work went from an active team of about 12 to 5, not including the managers we lost ssssooo... Yeah fun times. 🙃

So here's a tag-list, hope I didn't miss anyone. Feel free to yell at/with me in the comments or ask box. If you see your old tag in my list tell me your new one so I can fix it.

@thelittleclare @jackiemonroe5512 @0body0disphoria0 @strangersteddierthings @lingeringmirth @dead-cherry-bitch @irethsune @ink777 @the-daydreamer-in-the-corner @ledleaf @pansexuality-activated @paintsplatteredandimperfect @kinryuuki @katdeerly @yikes-a-bee @altocumulustranslucidus @ohimamarigold @child-of-cthulhu @samsoble @sensationalsunburst @xxbottlecapx @y4r3luv @rocochen20 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @flustratedcas @rootbeerandmusic @vinteraltus

#Never Took The Time (To Forget)#nttttf verse #hopper adopts steve #but make it sad #rambler writes #stranger things fic #hopper pov #lucas sinclair #The Party loves Steve

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augustjustice · 4 months

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Children Behave (That's What They Say When We're Together), 1/2

AO3

It’s just after 10 pm on a Saturday night when the Party find themselves standing out on the edge of the forest surrounding Lover’s Lake, summoned by the “Code Red” Dustin had sent out half an hour before on their walkies.

“Dustin, seriously…what are we even doing out here?” Max demands with an exasperated flap of her arms as she hops off the back of Lucas’s bike, the pair of them stopping a few feet from the two others already dropped into the grass.

They approach the figures at the treeline quickly, the silhouette of one of Dustin’s many rotating ballcaps and Mike’s black curls–grown out so long they nearly brush his shoulders now–easy to recognize, even in nothing but moonlight.

It’s just the four of them these days, at least until the Byers manage to pack up their house in Lenora and move the family back to Hawkins. The party has been impatiently waiting out the days until summer begins as a collective, Dustin even rigging up a countdown clock that he updates them on every morning before school.

“Yeah, I really wish I knew,” Mike mutters in answer to Max’s question, the pair of them sharing an equally exasperated look, a rare show of solidarity.

“Reconnaissance,” Dustin interrupts, simple and curt, pointing from his position squatted down amongst the greenery. “Look.”

As one, Lucas and Max turn to follow the direction of his finger–where Steve’s familiar maroon BMW sits, about a stone's throw from Reefer Rick’s place.

“That’s…weird,” Lucas admits. “What’s Steve doing out here?”

“That’s what I’m trying to find out,” Dustin explains. “Steve wasn’t answering his walkie. He always picks up, he knows the Rule of Law.”

“How’d you even know to look for him out here, then?” Max asks, brow furrowed in confusion.

“Through the powers of deduction, my dear Mayfield,” Dustin replies, voice purposefully affected. “Something’s afoot. Of the Upside Down variety.”

Even the mere suggestion is enough to make the other three teens stiffen, casting wary glances at the darkened forest around them.

“Vecna’s dead,” Mike says, voice threaded through with sudden tension.

“And El closed all the rifts in Hawkins,” Lucas insists.

“She did,” Max agrees immediately, coming to the defense of both Lucas and El simultaneously.

“How many times have we said that before?” Dustin asks.

Max, Lucas, and Mike all share a cowed, anxious look.

“I’m just saying, it never hurts to stay hypervigilant. Especially around here. Don’t forget, Steve and the others tried to leave us behind, in this very spot, the last time.”

“Yeah, but…it wasn’t like we didn’t know what was going on then,” Lucas says defensively. “They would tell us, if Vecna was back.”

“That’s because we,” Dustin gestures emphatically between himself and Max, “were the ones to figure it out in the first place!”

“Come on, Dustin, he’s probably just…with some girl.” Mike’s face twists in a way that makes it clear exactly what he thinks of that. “I mean, it is Steve.”

“He’s not on a date, Mike,” Dustin rolls his eyes, his snippy tone implying the very suggestion is absurd. “Because if he was on a date, he would have told me. You think he would have missed the opportunity to brag about some hot Saturday night out he had planned? No. Besides, Steve tells me everything.”

“And yet…” Lucas holds up a finger, with the gravitas of someone interjecting in a court of law, “you still continue to insist he and Robin are dating, despite the fact that Steve’s told you a thousand times they’re not.”

“That’s not the same thing. It’s not my fault Steve’s too emotionally stunted he can’t recognize his own feelings for what they are,” Dustin waves a hand dismissively.

“They’re definitely not dating, dude,” Max says with a certainty that makes the boys’ heads swivel in unison to look at her, like she possesses some secret knowledge none of the rest are privy to yet. She ignores them, instead taking the binoculars from Dustin without so much as a question.

“It’s called Lover’s Lake,” Mike points out petulantly, “it’s literally a make out spot!”

“And the exact location of a former gate,” Dustin argues with just as much fervor. “Which Steve knows. Why would he be out here if it wasn’t because of something connected with the Upside Down?”

“I hate to break it to you,” Max interrupts, still peering through the binoculars, a slight smirk unfurling across her face, “but it looks like Steve’s definitely on a date.”

“What the fuck?!” Dustin squawks. “Let me see!”

As Max and Dustin begin a spirited game of keepaway with the binoculars, Lucas cranes his neck curiously.

“Ew,” Mike’s face screws up in exaggerated disgust.

“What?!” Lucas’s shoulders scrunch up towards his ears, defensive. “Don’t act like you don’t wanna know.”

“I definitely don’t, dude.”

“Admit it. You’re just mad because he didn’t tell you.” As she continues taunting Dustin, the corner of Max’s mouth tilts into a teasing grin. “Busybody.”

“Listen to what your boyfriend is saying, Max, and see reason. We need to find out if Steve and Robin finally got their shit together!”

“I already told you, they are so not dating,” Max rolls her eyes. “Besides, whoever he’s got in there with him? Has dark, curly hair. That sound like Robin to you?”

“Curly?” Lucas’s eyebrows shoot up. “Wait, you don’t think it’s–”

“Nancy?!” Mike gasps, completely scandalized.

“No, but I thought–Jonathan,” Dustin darts a confused look at Mike. “Unless…I was right, and they’re out here investigating something! I mean, come on, it’s Steve and Nancy. That sounds exactly like the kind of guns blazing thing that they would do.”

“It didn’t look like they were investigating,” Max mutters, “at least…not anything that wasn’t already inside the car.”

Whether it’s that last comment that sets him off is unclear, but from one blink to the next, Mike is suddenly charging out of the woods towards the car.

“Wait a second, Mike!” Max shouts, on his heels immediately.

One fleeting look between Dustin and Lucas is all it takes to send them rushing after the pair.

None of them is fast enough to catch up to his gangly gait, however, especially not with Mike Wheeler on a mission. In moments, he’s right on top of the Beemer, slapping an open palm impatiently against the window.

“Steve? Nancy?!” he shouts in petulant, disbelieving teenage outrage as the two figures inside spring apart. “Holy shit, is that you? Open the door!”

The question is followed by the sound of muffled cursing, and, apparently deciding the pair isn’t moving fast enough, Mike yanks repeatedly at the handle on the passenger side.

He’s nearly knocked backwards into Lucas, the other three having caught up, when the door finally pushes open under his hand.

"Nancy?!" he repeats in a screech to rival even Dustin’s loudest as the dark, disheveled curly hair they'd already spotted comes more clearly into view.

"Uh…" a deep, familiar voice pipes up, "sorry to disappoint, but–I'm definitely not Wheeler."

"Oh my God, you guys have gotta be fucking kidding me," Steve’s voice pipes up, and then he lets out a full-bodied groan, leaning across the console and pinning them all under his glare.

He's wearing his 'seriously pissed off' face, which is about two shades more intense than his 'pretending to be pissed off for the sake of saving face and riling them up' face. And at his side sits none other than…

Eddie Munson, who blinks over at them with wide brown eyes.

Part 2

#stranger things #steddie #dustin henderson #max mayfield #lucas sinclair #mike wheeler #steve harrington #eddie munson #brotp: babysitter's club #my writing #my stuff #my things #have something silly #fair warning: the party are meddling in this and everyone bickers constantly #but that's their love language #no beta we die like my braincells since i'm writing this while sick lol

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byerseason · 19 days

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my personal opinions on byler & mike’s character

most people believe mike is clueless or at least he just suspects will’s feelings. well, sometimes i agree with that but in general i think mike knows. actually he always knew. let’s look at everything from the beginning.

both mike and will always lived in a small town full of homophobia. we know will personally experienced homophobia from his dad and other people in hawkins. mike and will are friends since kindergarten and mike obviously witnessed all of these homophobia will went through. maybe mike experienced it too, we know ted said “see what happens?” for a reason. especially with lonnie, mike witnessed everything he did to will, we all know will shares everything with mike. so from their point of view, this thing called “homosexuality” is something really bad and all it causes is harm and hate. it’s something forbidden.

now let’s see what happened in all seasons. in season 1, a cool girl magically comes into mike’s life and shows interest in him. “you’re blind, because a girl is not grossed out by you” now mike has a chance to be normal like people expect him to be. and he’s a child, it’s not that deep. he can try. no deep feelings, no love, just be normal.

in season 2 this chance is taken away from mike leaving a trauma to him. after all, el was special and he cares for her so much. and the fact that she sacrificed herself just to save him and his friends is not something we can overlook. and adding to this trauma, something really bad is happening to will and they don’t even know what is it and how to fix it. he does his best, he never leaves his side because it’s something a good friend would do right? it wasn’t that forbidden thing the adults get angry about and it shouldn’t be. after el’s return and will being safe, mike had this chance again. el was here, she was incredible, a superhero who saved will and the world, and she was ready to be in a relationship with him. snowball scene was mike telling will “i’m moving on, you should move on too or we will get hurt by this.” because you know, these things always hurt will and nothing else.

in season 3, mike continues to this “moving on” as we can clearly see. this time a little bit grown up, or at least trying to grow up. distancing himself from will and all his friends, focusing on el all the time and for some reason not being able to maintain a friendship with will while dating el. this speaks volumes actually. it’s both him trying to be normal as expected and distancing himself from will to make sure he is normal too. to me that’s all the “it’s not my fault you don’t like girls.” scene. while mike is fighting back, will makes it harder for both of them without realizing it. i think -like everyone- the ending of season 3 was mike realizing it’s not working and it’s getting serious. he’s growing up, they’re growing up and everything is becoming clearer.

will and el moving to california was a new chance for mike. he ignored will, well at least he tried even though it’s clear he felt his absence especially in school, he didn’t reach out to him thinking maybe this is the chance for both of them to move on. and then el’s letter happened. mike thought will really did it, he moved on, he was able to move on while mike isn’t. if we think deeper, he is even working on a painting for her, something he used to do with mike. so yeah, will is normal, it worked for will, while mike is still dealing with this. when they reunite i think it was much more than just jealousy. disappointment, anger maybe? especially after he saw he brought the painting to the airport. apparently will wasn’t planning on giving all his attention to mike, who was visiting him after months, but he was planning to give the painting to the girl he likes, it was probably the reason of his excitement, not mike. so this is what makes mike want to focus on el more and ignore will during rinkomania scenes. when el mentions angela and will gives a reaction to this, mike is sure he was right and this day is about angela for will.

but he finds out he was wrong. well, the painting is still for a girl but at least he was wrong about angela. will was just upset because mike was being lied to, and he was hurt by mike being distant from him. this is what leads mike to sincerely apologize to will, as always. he always does that, if will says “where is dustin right now?” mike realizes his mistake and tries to fix it. if will says “we used to be best friends” mike realizes his mistake and offers to be best friends again. that’s all their dynamic about.

after mike and el’s fight, mike comes and explains what happened to will but it’s more like he is asking for an advice, he wants will to understand him. “it was a fight that you can’t come back from.” he wants will to agree but he doesn’t, this is when we start to understand mike’s inner struggles. he brings up this topic to will three times. none of these conversations are like two best friends giving each other relationship advices because mike never tells will what is the problem. for some reason he doesn’t want will to know he can’t tell her girlfriend that he loves her. we all know will and mike are sincere enough to tell these things to each other, they always do. but if he can’t, there must be a reason. maybe mike himself doesn’t know the answer either, maybe he doesn’t want will to understand his situation because he thinks will successfully moved on, who knows?

in the desert scene, he brings the topic up again, without mentioning what is “that thing”, but this time will seems like he understands. “sometimes, i think it’s just scary to open up like that, to say how you really feel, especially to the people you care about the most.” mike never mentioned he is struggling to say how he feels but will understand, he always did. this conversation would continue with mike opening up to will if it wasn’t interrupted, so mike brings it up once again for the third time, in the van scene.

this time he is being more open but he is still struggling to say one thing, which will completes for him “you’re scared of losing her.” well, mike was wrong. will wasn’t getting it until.. the painting scene. mike is not stupid, he knows will spent days working on it. he knows eleven doesn’t know about what this painting is about. he knows he doesn’t make el feel like “she is not a mistake at all” especially after their fight, remember that line from the script “she’s already beginning to understand she doesn’t need me, i saw it in her eyes” he knows el doesn’t need him, he knows will well enough to understand he is lying. the way he looks at will admiringly is him thinking “he didn’t move on, we’re still the same.” and also him being aware of what will is doing for him, breaking his own heart and sacrificing himself just to make mike feel better. also, he notices will is sobbing, he looks at him and even if he didn’t how could he not? he had tears in his eyes during all the monologue and he was sobbing right next to him. so is there any reason for mike to not say anything to his best friend sobbing next to him if he didn’t know the reason? the mike i know would immediately ask what was wrong if he was clueless. he knows why will is crying but he doesn’t know what to do about it. mike’s situation is pretty sad when you think about it, he probably feels like he’s stuck.

then we have the desert reunion scene. this time we clearly can see how stuck he feels between el and will, he doesn’t know how to get out of this without hurting any of them, and also himself. the way he looks at them looks like also him being afraid of damaging their bond.

then the monologue scene.. this scene may mean lots of different things, i am not sure either.

it may be mike being aware of what will is doing, how he is sacrificing himself once again, how mike is gonna have to lie and hurt everyone in the end, how the things are gonna be way more complicated or mike realizing he was wrong about thinking will has feelings for him.

my season 5 expectation is seeing a mike wheeler who stops fighting back and embraces his feelings, without hurting both of them.

that’s my point of view that changes almost everyday lol. i don’t know if there are many people who believes mike isn’t clueless so i wanted to share my thoughts. 💛

#byler #mike wheeler #will byers #byler endgame #byler analysis

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talesofliia · 2 months

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"Will's love towards Mike is a really beautiful thing." – Finn Wolfhard

And he is absolutely right. Throughout the whole series, the "Stranger Things" creators have made it clear to the audience how special Will and Mike's bond is and how much Mike truly means to Will. They have consistently highlighted the depth of Will's feelings towards Mike, and his love has saved the day quite a few times already. ❤️

Will's love for Mike is sincere, pure, quiet and completely unconditional. It's a love unspoken, yet expressed a million times through his actions. Will couldn't keep the truth from Mike in S1, even though it was just a small detail related to D&D. Despite being possessed, Will drew strength from Mike's presence and care, as if Mike was his beacon of light in the darkness. Mike's heartfelt monologue to Will about how asking him to be his friend was "the best thing he's ever done" reached Will's soul thanks to the love he felt, and that helped them all to stop the Mind Flayer in S2. In that same season, Mike was the one who Will was able to recognize after his possession because of how strong his feelings for the boy were.

We also saw the tender and emotional moments between Will and Mike in S3 and S4. Will's heartbreaking confession of "not going to fall in love" when he was (probably) already aware of his romantic feelings for his childhood best friend hits even harder when you think about it. Despite the times Mike unintentionally hurt Will, Will's love for him has remained too strong for him to simply forget and move on. There is just no way Will could ever get that boy out of his heart.

Because that's the thing – Mike is his heart, and Will hinted at it himself (albeit in a veiled form). Will's unconditional love for Mike is what led this sweet, sensitive and traumatized kid to set aside his own desires and pain just to ensure the happiness of the boy he loves. Even if Mike's happiness lies with his girlfriend (who also happens to be Will's new sister). Even if it means Mike is happy without him. But Will has long accepted this because he's inherently selfless and caring. He prioritizes the happiness of his loved ones over his own.

Will promised Mike he'd never be replaced and stayed fiercely loyal, as we saw in that unforgettable "Not possible" moment in S3 and later on in the show. Will was always there for Mike in S4 when he needed support and encouragement. He tried his best to patch things up between Mike and El, thinking it was what Mike wanted. Will even pushed Mike to open up to El, reminding him of his irreplaceable role in the party. Through it all, Will did everything he could to lift Mike's spirits, making sure he felt needed, valued and loved (even if it was indirectly through others).

And to prove, once again, how beautiful Will's love towards Mike is, I want to remind you of his monologue in the van scene where he was expressing his feelings for Mike by disguising them as Eleven's (slightly adapted to fit the purpose):

“Anyway, my point is, see how you're leading us here? You're guiding the whole party, inspiring us. That… That's what you do. And see your coat of arms here? It's a heart. And I know it's sort of on the nose, but that's what holds this party together. Heart. Because, I mean, without heart, we'd all fall apart. Even [me]. Especially [me]. These past few months, [I've] been so lost without you. It's just, [I'm] so different from other people, and… when you're… when you're different, sometimes… you feel like a mistake. But you make [me] feel like [I'm] not a mistake at all. Like [I'm] better for being different. And that gives [me] the courage to fight on. If [I] was mean to you or [I] seemed like [I] was pushing you away, it's because [I'm] scared of losing you, like you're scared of losing [El]. And if [I] was going to lose you, I… I think [I'd] rather just get it over with quick. Like ripping off a Band-Aid. So, yeah, [I] need you, Mike. And [I] always will.”

If Will's love for Mike isn't beautiful, then I don't know what is. Because "Stranger Things" shows us the true power of love and how it can change the world for the better. I find it truly inspiring. ❤️‍🩹

#byler #byler tumblr #byler nation #will byers x mike wheeler #will x mike #will and mike #will byers #mike wheeler #stranger things

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blushweddinggowns · 8 months

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It had started as a rough few weeks. A rough few weeks that turned into a rough few months. It was weird, because in all honesty when it came to social standings, Will was doing a lot better here than he ever did in Hawkins. There were no Zombie Boy stories following him here, and he even managed to get a few girls to have a crush on him. He…still wasn’t quite clear how that worked out and he really wasn’t a fan of it. But they were also the only people he could talk to at school. He was way too paranoid of getting close to any guys. God forbid he got another crush on a friend, having none of them just seemed like the better course of action.

It didn’t help that Mike had basically stopped acknowledging that he existed after they moved. He didn’t write to him, he didn’t call him, and it felt like the only time he heard his voice was when he politely asked for El over the phone. And it hurt. It hurt a lot. Especially when he still put in so much effort to get ahold of El all the time. He’d resent her for it if he could, but the only one who was having a worse time than him with the move was her. Maybe Mike was a shitty friend to him, but at least she had someone to talk to.

But whatever. Lucas and Dustin cared, and so did Eddie and Steve. And when Jonathan wasn’t busy being high as hell, he had him too. Even Max called him more often than Mike did. Even when she was just trying to get ahold of El she’d take the time to ask him how he was, a courtesy that his best friend from freaking kindergarten couldn’t even offer anymore.

So maybe Will didn’t have many friends in California yet, but he didn’t feel very lonely.

Just a little heartbroken.

But he could get past it. Especially when some of his favorite people were only one phone call away. Sometimes it made him feel a little guilty, that Steve and Eddie were his go to for talking about his problems. Especially since Jonathan was always trying to get him to open up. Even when he was zoinked out of his gourd he never failed to ask Will how his day was. Though…he did have a hard time following the plot when Will told him.

But that didn’t change the fact that Jonathan always wanted to help. But what could Will say? I’m depressed because I’m in love with my best friend who doesn’t care about me? And oh yeah, I’m gay? Yeah, no. That wasn’t going to happen. If Jonathan of all people hated him for that…he’s not sure he could recover. But that doesn’t mean he didn’t think about it.

It was kind of pathetic, but he’d fantasize about it sometimes. Coming out to his family, everyone smiling and saying they’d love him anyway, no matter what. And if he was being honest with himself, it was technically possible, right? His brother had never said a bad word about Steve and Eddie. His mom never failed to shut the homophobic crap down when his crappy sperm donor had still been around. But it was different when it was your own kid, right? Will wasn’t quite sure. But he did know that he couldn’t stop thinking about it.

So he called who he always did when he had a problem. It only took a few rings before someone was picking up, Steve’s familiar voice on the other end, “Hello?”

“Hey, it’s me,” Will sighed, flopping face first into his bed, the phone pressed to his ear.

He could hear the smile in Steve’s voice, “Hey kiddo, what’s up?”

God, he was such a dad. Will wouldn’t be shocked if he started wearing socks with sandals by the time he hit twenty-three. He went straight to the point, “Do you think that living happily ever after is like a real thing? For people like us?”

Steve laughed, “It better fucking be after all the shit we’ve seen.”

“I don’t mean the Upside Down stuff,” Will sighed, “I mean like…y’know. The gay.”

Steve snorted, “The gay? I’m going to have to tell Eddie that one.”

Will rolled his eyes at the redundant statement. He had learned a long time ago that telling Steve something meant telling Eddie something, and vice versa. He sighed a tiny smile on his face, “Oh what, like he’s not already next to you listening in?”

“...touché.”

Will laughed, turning over to stare at the ceiling, “I’m serious though. Like…is it even possible? It’s not like everyone gets to magically find their soulmate at eight.”

“Is that such a bad thing though?” Steve asked, “Because no offense dude but honestly? I think you could do a lot better than Mike-”

“Be nice,” Will interrupted, torn between being defensive for Mike’s sake and amused at Steve never failing to find a way to come at him.

“I will when he starts being nice to me.”

“Well that’s just not going to happen,” Will laughed, “I’m starting to think Eddie’s right to call you a brat.”

Steve gasped, loud and scandalized. He’d been hanging out with Robin too much, “Me?! Never!”

Will could barely hear it over the receiver, but he could hear Eddie’s faint voice coming through, Yes he is!

And it was making him laugh even harder. Will missed this, so much. He missed having a place where he could just say whatever he wanted, with no worries. Even now he was looking over his shoulder, anxious at the chance that his mom or a sibling could come bursting in at any moment to catch him in the act of being comfortable. It was a confusing and weird feeling, and probably a little unfair to assume they’d prefer him to be sad and quiet over happy and queer. But he still did.

But for now he was safe. And he might as well take the chance to speak on all the things he couldn’t with anyone else, “But what if I don’t want to do better than Mike? Like…it’s stupid but do you think that um, I would ever have a chance?”

The answer was a strong no, but sometimes Will just needed a reality check from someone else’s mouth.

Steve sighed, “I think the odds are pretty low bud. All jokes aside, even if he was playing for our team, I’m not sure if he’s the type who could even accept it. Y’know?”

Will did know, unfortunately. And if he’d never met Eddie and Steve there was a solid chance he’d be that guy. The truth stung a bit, but it was necessary, “I know, I know. But…do you think he would accept me? If he ever found out?”

“He fucking better. Otherwise I’ll-”

Will heard a shuffle on the other end, paired with something that sounded suspiciously like whining before he heard Eddie’s voice, “Will? You there? Sorry about that. I had to take the phone away before he started talking about beating up a child.”

Will grinned, happy to hear Eddie’s voice, “You made the right call. Do you think they’ll ever get along?”

“Not in this lifetime,” Eddie sighed, “And I know Mike’s not perfect, but if he’s okay with us why wouldn’t he be with you?”

“But it’s different when it’s a friend, isn’t it?” Will asked, “I’m not even sure if my mom would accept it, let alone him.”

“Well first of all, you don’t have to tell anyone shit, okay? But I can promise you that Joyce would be fine with it. And so would Jonathan for that matter. And I don’t even know if El is aware of what homophobia even is.”

It all sounded a lot more believable out of Eddie’s mouth than what was going on in his own head. But still… “What if they don’t though? What if I tell them and they kick me out or something? Or make me go to therapy?”

“Okay, on the off, off chance that you tell them and Joyce suddenly became a monster overnight, we’ll go to plan B. Steve and I will drive up there to kidnap you and you can live in Indy with us.”

Will grinned. He could live with that, “Can’t we just make that Plan A?”

“No, because your family loves you, as they should by the way. And this won’t bother them, I swear. Plus, telling them on your own terms is a lot less awkward than getting caught in the act.”

Will didn’t even want to know what Eddie was alluding to with that one. Poor Wayne, “But what if we’re wrong?”

He wanted to believe him, he really did, but stranger things had happened outside of gay people being disowned.

“Will, listen to me,” Eddie said, his voice confident enough to make Will perk up, “I swear on Steve’s life, okay? There is no way in hell anyone in that house is gonna reject you for this.”

Will blinked, a little shocked at just how much faith he had in his family. More than he did, “Really?”

“Really. Trust me on this man, you’re going to be fine.”

They hung up pretty soon after that, mostly because El started knocking on his door for the phone. The conversation made him feel a bit better, but also…nervous. Could he really tell them? Would it all just work out? Just like that? Will wasn’t so sure.

He decided against doing it right away despite Eddie’s own confidence. But he did start to drop a few feelers. He started with Jonathan, waiting until he was high enough for him to forget the conversation if it didn’t go well. And that wasn’t a long wait.

He found him and his new friend sprawled out in his room, Fast Times playing in the background as they both stared into space. Though Will wasn’t quite sure he could count what Argyle was doing as staring. He’s eyes were barely open, and Will was 90 percent sure he was passed out. But that was good for him, now was as good a time as any.

Jonathan smiled at him as he wandered in, his words kind but slurring, “Hey! What’s up? You never come in here. You wanna watch something or…?”

Will shook his head, his heart aching a little at the way it made his brother frown. Maybe he really had been neglecting him, too caught up in his own head to spend time with the closest thing he had to a Dad.

It made him feel a little bad, but that wasn’t what he was here for, “No thanks. I just wanted to ask you something.”

“Sure!” Jonathan said, way too excited at the prospect of a simple question, but maybe that was the weed, “What’s up?”

Will shrugged, casually leaning against the door. Or at least he hoped it looked casual, because his heart was beating a mile per minute, “Steve said that his and Eddie’s anniversary is coming up soon. Do you think I should send them something?”

Jonathan tilted his head up to look at him, his eyes bloodshot with a tiny smile on his face, “That’s like…so nice dude. You’re always so nice. How are you so nice?”

“You don’t think it’s weird?” Will pressed, hope fluttering in his chest, “To be, y’know, celebrating them like that?”

Jonathan shook his head, “Nah man. It’s like…romance. Y’know? It’s sweet.”

“Yeah dude, gay guys are cool,” Argyle agreed out of nowhere, his eyes still closed, “Good for Stu and Eggie. Gay people got like, the best hair.”

Will didn’t really know what to do with that one. But Jonathan was impressed. He jerked his head back to stare at Argyle, his voice in awe, “How’d you know he had good hair? I never told you he had good hair.”

“I bet they both have good hair,” Argyle sighed, “They alway do.”

“Are you like, psychic?” Jonathan asked, like that made any sense at all.

“Shit, you think I could be?”

Will watched as the two of them started to debate the idea, his brow raised. God, weed sure was a hell of a drug. He left them to it after that, deciding to slowly back out of the room. But he was going to chalk it up as a positive.

preview for the next chapter (kind of) of this fic

#steddie #stranger things #will byers #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steve harrington #eddie munson #the universe trapped in your skin #she's coming along #so fucking slowly #but she's coming #just a little preivew to prove she still exists

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kennahjune · 5 months

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the moment mike accepted steve into the party

he didn’t get it. what was so good about steve harrington?

yeah, he was good looking and strong. but other than that? nothing. in mike’s eyes, he was still the asshole rando that dated his sister. and he didn’t plan on that changing.

until march of 1985.

mike had been held back after class for falling asleep. it wasn’t his fault. he couldn’t ever sleep unless someone else was with him. and there was no way in hell he was gonna cuddle with nancy. besides, he was good at the class— so no need to pay attention really.

at least miss noelle didn’t call his mom.

dustin, lucas, and will were waiting for him in the hall. oh, and max, cause she was actually kind of cool.

“what was up with miss noelle?” lucas asked as they walked down the hall.

“pissed i fell asleep in class,” mike said dejectedly. max snorted from beside him.

“maybe just don’t fall asleep?” she asked rhetorically.

mike huffed and flipped her off. “you sound like my dad.”

dustin shuddered from his other side. “ew. not cool man.”

mike rolled his eyes. “it’s true! my dads always like ‘just don’t this’ and ‘just don’t do that’ instead of actually helping! It’s so annoying.”

will came up and bumped arms with him while they finally left the school. classes were done and they were finally left to do what they wanted.

“uh oh.” came from lucas. mike sighed, catching sight of what— or who— lucas was “uh oh-ing” about.

“just don’t look at them,” max said under her breath while she averted her eyes to the ground.

“that never works,” retorted lucas.

“you have any better ideas? just keep walking.”

great. the one day nancy or jonathan aren’t picking them up and they run into noah and joey.

in 1983, el had gotten troy and james to back off— even scaring them into moving. but el’s not here right now, so she can’t help with noah and joey— the party’s most recent tormentors.

will stepped closer to mike and mike nudged his hand with his. everyone pulled in closer to each other in hopes of concealing themselves and the others. of course, it didn’t work.

“hey hey! look man, it’s the circus!” mike saw noah nudge joey beside him.

“shit,” dustin cursed.

and ‘shit’ was right. no one wanted to deal with noah and joey. especially with the mood mike was currently in after being held up.

“seriously what hell is it, tanner?” mike addressed noah directly.

joey whistled lowly and took a sharp step forward. will and dustin both flinched pretty hard. max gave a twitch but lucas and mike held their ground for the most part. noah and joey got a kick laughing at dustin and will.

“awwww they’re scared, joey! like a bunch of babies!”

mike forgot how stupid kids sound most of the time. they could call him a baby all they wanted— nothing will ever compare to watching will get possessed and then watching bob die.

mike still reached out and grabbed someone’s hand. he thinks it was lucas’.

joey and noah were both a good bit taller than mike, which meant they were also a good bit taller than everyone else in the party. they liked to use their height to their advantage but mike had dealt with monsters twice his height. it wasn’t scary, just annoying at this point.

still didn’t help the fact that they didn’t want to deal with this.

mike had zoned out, because next thing he knew he was being shoved to the ground. it probably wouldn’t have hurt too bad if they weren’t outside in the parking lot. mike felt his chin bust on the pavement in a sickening repeat of ‘83 with troy and james.

will was there in a second with dustin, helping him up off the ground and dusting him off. dustin held his hands while Will held his face, frantic over the now gushing blood that he could feel running down his neck. he was trembling. why was he trembling?

he faintly heard yelling and assumed lucas and max were arguing with joey and noah.

“just fuck off, murphy!” he heard max yell at joey. “we’ve literally done nothing to either of you and yet you make us hate our fucking lives!”

“aww, noah, she thinks we actually care! isn’t that cute?”

mike stood up with the help up dustin and will. but that only served to turn noah and joey’s attention onto him. well. better on him than on max.

“so whatcha gonna do, wheeler? gonna push me like troy? gonna wimp out and go cry to mommy and daddy?”

mike actually considered pushing joey. but that’d probably just make thing worse. if el hadn’t been there last year to save his ass from troy mike would’ve gotten pummeled.

but it was a serious option he considered.

dustin stepped in front of mike and shoved joey back. mike didn’t even realize how close he’d gotten. wow. he was really out of it today, huh?

“back off murphy.”

mike wanted to hug dustin, but at the same time he wanted to smack him upside the head for putting himself in the way. it’s easier when they target mike. just let them target him. he doesn’t care at this point.

dustin stayed arguing with joey and stopped only when there were multiple shouts from max, will and lucas.

noah had pulled max’s hair and in return was shoved to the ground by lucas. but noah had taken will down with him and now will struggled with lucas and max to get noah off.

mike saw red, and in a moments notice had noah off of will and on the ground. he was vaguely aware of dustin and max cheering him on with dustin and will watching.

it didn’t last very long until noah shoved mike hard enough that he fell backwards and busted his head on the ground. again.

at this point he was working himself towards a concussion. just like steve, he thought deliriously. and speak of the devil.

“aye!”

mike, dustin, lucas, will, and max all looked up, startled by the familiar voice and claps.

“what the fuck are you shits doing, huh?”

steve fucking harrington was suddenly right next to mike on the ground, kneeling and helping him sit up.

“shit, you ok mike? that’s a nasty scrape you got there. i have bandaids in the car, let’s go get you one, yeah?”

mike just nodded. he really wanted to know what the fuck steve was doing there and why he seemed to intent on helping.

“who the fuck are you?”

steve stood with mike halfway to the car, the rest of the group following, mike noticed. joey and noah stood idly in the parking lot, seeming put out by steve’s sudden appearance.

steve’s eye twitched and mike watched him bite the inside of his cheek. mike watched in real time as steve recognized joey and noah and seemed to piece together exactly what happened. he scoffed. not what mike was expecting.

steve gently nudged mike towards the car and knocked his knuckles on dustin’s hat. “you kids go get in the car. max you can toss your board in the trunk.”

dustin seemed to want to protest but even he could see how pissed steve was. even max was keeping quiet. lucas and will were quick to follow instructions and headed to the car. mike was right behind them.

lucas tried the back door (knowing mike got shotgun for the bandaids and possible concussion) but the handle only wiggled. “locked.”

“did he give one of you the keys?” asked will.

they all shook their heads. they didn’t have to wait long until steve was back with them at the car.

“why aren’t you guys in the car yet?”

“locked.” informed will.

“ohhhh. oops.” steve unlocked the car and helped max put her skate board in the trunk. when he hopped into the drivers side dustin and lucas were hounding him with questions.

“why are you here?”

“I thought we were walking home?”

“what the hell was that?”

“what did you do to noah and joey?”

“settle down and shut up, would you? nancy mentioned you guys were walking home so I came to grab you. you’d think that after everything they’d be a little more cautious. and also, language, henderson. I am so not taking the blame when you end up slipping in front of your mom.”

“awww you were worried steve.” max teased.

steve scoffed. “‘course I was, red. and it turned out I had every right to be. anybody wanna explain what that was?”

suddenly the car was quiet.

steve clicked his tongue.

“fine. guess you’re all coming to my house, huh?”

there was a sudden uproar in questions and “what the hell?”s.

“listen! i’m not letting any of you shits go home until I one; know for sure mike doesn’t have a concussion—“ steve eyed mike and he felt himself flinch. “—and two; before I get the whole story.”

there was a bunch of grumbling from the backseat, but mike himself stayed quiet throughout the rest of the ride.

“oh! and mike—“ mike looked at steve briefly and barely caught the box of tissues tossed at him. “—put that on the scrape for now, yeah? I’ll clean it properly when we get to the house.”

mike nodded and held a wad of tissues to his chin.

when they pulled up to the harrington house, everyone was inside quickly. everyone went to use the phone in the living room to call their parents and when mike went to follow he was grabbed gently on the shoulder.

“can you head to the kitchen and grab out the med-kit? I need to make sure they don’t drive my bill up.”

mike knew it was meant to be used as a distraction. but he’d take it. so he headed to the kitchen before realizing he didn’t know where the med-kit was. he rifled around in the cabinets for a bit before finding it stored away under the sink.

mike pulled it out and waited at the kitchen island. he noticed that it was a pretty heavy kit. and it seemed to be used a lot judging by the lack of dust and how it had a couple of bandages peeking from the crease.

everyone piled into the kitchen, book bags dumped in the living room and shoes discarded by the door. will sat on a stool next to mike and dustin and max hopped on the counter. lucas took a seat on the other side of mike.

“ooookay. ah! there it is.” steve opened the kit and grabbed out a brown bottle and a few cotton balls. mike noted how he seemed to know where everything in the med-kit was as if he used it on a daily. he filed the information away for later.

“what’s that supposed to be?” mike eyed the bottle with weariness.

“just peroxide. it’s meant to clean the cut. I know for a fact that that parking lot is fucking filthy and I’m not risking an infection due to gunk in the wound.”

steve put a cotton ball to the open top of the bottle and tipped the bottle over. “i’m not going to lie and say it doesn’t hurt, cause it does sting a bit. but it also definitely helps in the long run.” steve held up the cotton ball as if in question.

mike nodded and looked up, giving steve more room to see the scrape. mike gripped will’s hand and hissed when the cotton ball first dabbed, but the pain soon subsided.

“now this part isn’t too fun either but it’s kind of needed. how attached to that shirt are you?”

mike looked down at that faded, off-white with blue stripes shirt he was wearing. “not very. why?”

“ok, good. this won’t ruin the shirt but you might have to change is all i’m saying. I need to pour the peroxide directly on the scrape to clean it out properly. “

(I know that hydrogen peroxide actually tends to damage tissue and delay healing but they didn’t really know that in the 80s so bare with me.)

mike shuddered at the thought. “I don’t have clothes to change into.”

“I have an extra shirt in my bag.” offered lucas. “I had gym today.” he clarified when he got off looks.

“that’d be perfect, thanks sinclair.”

lucas jumped up to get the shirt and came back in with a white t-shirt with red sleeves. he set it on the counter for afterwards. lucas wordlessly took mike’s hand that will wasn’t holding.

it wasn’t long before the scrape was clean and steve was putting away the kit. while everyone else ran into the living room to watch movies and raid steve’s snacks, mike took the shirt and went to the bathroom to change.

when he came back out (after looking at the funny bandage on his chin— because seriously, what kind 17 year old just had dinosaur bandaids in their med-kit?) mike was quick to join everyone in the living room before steve could pull him aside again.

honestly? fuck that guy.

(but when mike sat between will and max on the couch he couldn’t stop thinking about how soft steve was when taking care of the scrape. he couldn’t stop himself from thinking about how old he was when he last felt that gentleness.

the answer was 7. mike was 7 when his mom deemed him old enough to deal with his own cuts and bruises.)

steve eventually held out on his promise of getting information. and after their first movie he forced them all onto the couches while he stood in front of them.

“so am I actually going to get an answer this time?” he stood with his hands on his hips and a dish towel thrown over his shoulder. mike remembered this same stance from not even a year ago, when they were trying to talk him into going in the tunnels.

steve almost reminded mike of his mom for a moment. but mike doubted his mom would go this far if she ever found out about the bullying. (mike refused to admit that he liked the idea of steve fretting over them like this. the idea made him almost sick to his stomach.)

everyone refused to look at him. max looked dead ahead at the wall, lucas kept his eyes trained on the floor, will was messing with his jacket sleeves and dustin was paying extra attention to the ceiling.

mike chewed the inside of his cheek.

“what the hell do you wanna hear from us, steve?” he asked. “that we’re being bullied? that they picked a fight with us first? that we’re nerds and freaks and weirdos?”

will, dustin and lucas flinched with each insult. max refused to look at anything other than what mike assumed was the odd spot on the wall. mike saw steve’s left eye twitch— the one he was always getting punched in.

“that what they told you?”

mike scoffed. “that’s what everyone told us. we’re the school circus!” his voice raised at the end and will flinched violently next to him.

“mike..” dustin uttered from beside max.

“sorry.” he mumbled, finally letting his gaze drop from steve to the coffee table in front of them.

steve sighed quietly.

“noah tanner and joey murphy, right? they both have older siblings, noah an older brother and joey an older sister.”

that made head snap to him.

“what—“ lucas started.

“mitchel tanner and annie murphy are their names. mitch is on the swim team, annie on the cheer team. they’re both barely passing their classes and aren’t exactly the kindest either— in fact I watched mitch shove freshman into a door yesterday.” steve continued, his voice soft as if he was simply talking to himself.

dustin’s and lucas’ jaws were on the floor, max and will were looking at him as if he were insane.

“so— wait—“

“you know their older siblings?”

“what the hell does that have to do with anything?”

steve smirked. and mike was /scared/. he’d seen steve smirk before, when he was dating nancy, when he said something particularly bitchy.

but this. this smirk was plain /mean/.

“would be a real shame if.. I dunno, their coaches suddenly find out about the poor sophomores they make do their homework. or worse— principal higgins finds out. who are mitch and annie gonna blame then, huh?”

dustin sputtered, “you! they’d just blame you, wouldn’t they?”

steve shrugged. “sure. but then they’d know why I did it. their brothers fucking with my kids.”

he said it so calmly. as if it was just the plain truth. as if he wasn’t scared to admit it.

if this is how he’s treated, being of steve’s “kids”, then shit. he may not be all that mad after all.

steve pulled the towel off his shoulder and walked back into the kitchen, a call over his shoulder about ham and cheese sliders and chips for dinner.

but none of the kids were listening.

lucas turned dustin who turned to max who turned to mike who turned to will who looked back at all of them with the biggest grin mike’s ever seen on his face.

ok. so maybe mike gets the hype the steve harrington.

(and if the next week of school went by with no issues, with noah and joey looking at them in /fear/? well. mike had steve to thank.)

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therainscene · 1 year

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I’m obsessed with @wheelersboy’s theory that Mike thinks Will is in love with El. It’s one of those takes that’s so simple, yet so perfectly explains every odd little detail you couldn’t quite account for before, that you know you’re on to a winner.

I always thought it was bizarre that the Willel reunion at NINA was framed in blatant love triangle imagery:

If this was supposed to be yet another reminder that the sad widdle gay boy has fee-fees for his best friend, we’d expect him to be gazing at Mike or otherwise looking conflicted at both of them. But he isn’t. His steady, adoring gaze is for El only. Yes, he loves her, but that love is strictly fraternal, so why the romance symbolism?

Is it straight-bait? This scene comes after his thinly-veiled love confession to Mike (in the same episode, no less), and the Duffers and Noah both made a point of confirming that Will was gay in post-vol.2 interviews, so making the audience think that Will is in love with El clearly wasn’t the intention here.

The Willel romance-coding isn’t for the audience -- it’s for Mike.

We often joke about Mike being crushed that Will didn’t laugh at his vomit green socks, but follow Will’s gaze -- it’s a little hard to see in the still image, but he’s staring at El, checking to see if she’s going to heed his advice. Mike's discomfort isn’t because he’s upset that Will didn’t like his joke, it’s because he doesn’t understand the weird tension between these two and is frustrated that his attempt to lighten the mood didn’t dispel it.

Mike’s smart enough to correctly connect the dots by the time Will starts sobbing in the van though: Will is destroying himself in his efforts to be supportive of the relationship between his best friend and the person he’s in love with.

But heteronormativity and a severe inferiority complex lead him to draw the wrong conclusion -- he thinks he’s the best friend and El is the one Will’s in love with, and that gets confirmed in his mind when he catches them making goo-goo eyes at each other at NINA.

And not once, after figuring it out, does he get jealous about it -- he guides El into Will’s arms at NINA, he looks conflicted as hell during the “I love you” monologue as Will hovers over his shoulder -- he just wants them to be happy and is prepared to put his own feelings aside to make it happen, even though it would hurt him terribly to do so. Exactly the same fucking thing Will is doing. It’s utterly farcical. I love this theory so much.

I’d like to springboard off this by taking a look at what it implies about S5.

Between Will’s history with Vecna and the Wonder Twins foreshadowing--

--it’s looking pretty likely that Will and El are going to be spending a significant amount of time together next season.

So we can already see that conditions are perfect for Mike to go through a similar arc as Will did in S4: being a third wheel between his best friend and the person he’s in love with and feeling like he can never truly be more than a third wheel, leading him to sacrifice himself in an effort to support what he thinks they have together.

Mike is very much at risk of doing something stupidly self-harming in S5 -- this is the same kid who jumped off a cliff to protect Dustin’s baby teeth, after all. He feels like he has no value if he isn’t needed by Superman. And there’s a goddamn mind-reading despair demon stalking his friend group.

Of course, it’ll all work out in the end. He’ll be saved at the last moment, the truth will be tearfully revealed, and we’ll finally get that big, dramatic, affirming kiss for our OTP.

You might have noticed that everything I’ve said in this analysis so far is consistent with either Byler or Milevn being endgame.

Many Milevns and GA members don’t just believe that Milevn will triumph over Byler -- they believe there isn’t any conflict between Milevn and Byler in the first place. The lack of evidence that Mike isn’t into boys is meaningless to the heteronormative mindset -- he’s the protagonist and dating a girl, therefore he’s straight, therefore Will’s hopes are dead in the water, therefore Mike has no romantic dilemma to solve.

By introducing a misunderstanding in which Mike imagines that his best friend is competing for his girlfriend -- couching his dilemma in relatable heterosexual terms -- the audience will be forced to accept that Mike is experiencing a distressing internal conflict involving Will and romance that won’t be resolved until the queer truth comes out.

The GA felt bad for Will in S4 because they assumed there was nothing he could do about it, but they’ll be tearing their hair out with frustration at Mike in S5 -- “you’re wrongly assuming he’s straight, you idiot! Just talk to him and this will all be cleared up!!”

It would be an absolutely genius way of getting the audience to question heteronormativity without them even realizing they’re questioning heteronormativity.

Once Mike’s queerness is revealed, the parallels between his arc and Will’s will suddenly become clear, and the audience will realize that, despite his straight-passing invisibility, Mike was just the other side of the same gay coin Will was on all along.

[Part 2]

#stranger things #willelmike #byler #willel #elmike #mike wheeler #will byers #el hopper #my analysis

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space-invading-pigeon · 1 year

Text

One Two Three

Vecna is incensed when Pelor returns, and not because he'd been on his own. "You left them alive!" Vecna snarls, the exposed muscles of his face and neck pulled taut in his frustration. "The were right there! You could have finished them!" "They are children, Vecna, perhaps we could-" "They are a threat!" "Children!" "You need to get rid of them-" "Mind your tone, Vecna, I am not to be disrespected," Pelor growls; he can feel his eyes flashing dangerously, can feel the air grow hot with his anger. Vecna falls silent, his eyes sharp with displeasure. "I don't think we need to kill them. We can convince them to turn, they're children." "... How do you propose we do that, lord?" Vecna's response is strained, tight. Steve- er, Pelor- relaxes a bit. "They seem to be reminded of a fallen comrade when they speak to me," he announces. "I think I can show them the truth. Fighting will be futile, they'll see that if I just speak to them."

*****

"Dustin, he's gone, there's no way that he's still Steve in there, he attacked Jonathan," Mike argued, smacking his fist against the table. They'd reconvened at the Byers' home, as always; Robin and Eddie stayed with the kids, while Nancy, Hop, and Joyce took Jonathan to the hospital.

"That's not fair, Mike, you never gave up on Eddie!" Dustin shouted, shoving himself back to stand from the table.

"Eddie never tried to kill one of us!"

"Actually, I did," Eddie interrupted softly. "Twice." Mike wilted a little, leaning closer to Will.

"Well- well you never hurt us!" He tried to argue, but Eddie shook his head.

"I did, Mike. Remember? I broke Lucas's wrist, and I almost killed Dustin. If it hadn't been for Steve and El, neither of them would be here." Eddie tugged on one of his curls, expression absent. El nodded from the couch, holding up the 'rock on' gesture that Eddie had recently taught her.

"But-"

"Dude, can you chill? We know you don't like Steve, but he's one of us," Lucas admonished, making Mike blush.

"He hurt Jonathan!"

"No, Vecna hurt Steve. Steve doesn't know that he knows us, remember? When Dustin and Eddie tried his song, he stopped fighting. He ran away," Will piped up, voice soft but firm. "And when he attacked us before, he ran away as soon as he saw Jonathan. He was hurt, and Steve freaked out. He's still in there, Mike."

Mike didn't say anything for a moment, floundering for an argument. It was possibly the closest they'd seen Mike to tears since 1984. "Well- well he's still a piece of shit!" He finally snapped, storming out of the dining room and down the hall.

Silence reigned for a few minutes after Mike's departure. This time, Robin was the one to break it.

"So... I still can't tell if Mike hates Steve or has a crush on him," she noted quietly, making the kids snort (not laugh- they were all much too jaded to laugh at the moment.).

"Crush, definitely," Max decided immediately.

******

Will, Max, Lucas, Mike, and El had fallen asleep sometime during the movie Robin put on. Robin stayed in with them, waiting by the phone for any update on Jonathan.

Dustin and Eddie stepped out around midnight. They didn't go anywhere, just on the porch, while Eddie smoked a cigarette. Gods, he needed it; two Steve sightings in a week after almost a year of nothing, and both times Steve hadn't really come home. Dustin was just as exhausted, leaning forward on his knees as he watched the sky.

"We'll get him back, right, Eddie?" Dustin asked weakly. Eddie had to nod, despite his own growing doubts.

"He can't leave us, Henderson," he consoled. "He's- he's lost. Vecna's got him all turned around, but we can get him back. His song, remember?"

"His stupid, thirty-year-old Elvis song," Dustin snorted, wiping his nose on his sleeve. Eddie chuckled softly, using his whole body to nudge Dustin.

"Don't talk shit about the King, Henderson, this is the only thing we can't make fun of Steve for."

"It's a love song, Eddie."

"It's a good song, Dustin!" Eddie smiled a little wider when Dustin made a noise that could almost be called a laugh, proud to have brought Dustin out of his melancholic mood.

As Dustin calmed, his mood sank a little more. "Eddie... If he's not- not Steve, right now, than who is he?"

"Is that some kind of riddle I'm supposed to solve?"

"No, numbnuts, I mean, like, when you weren't you, you were Kas. Vecna's general. But Steve's not like you were, it's almost like- almost like he's being influenced, but not controlled." Eddie hummed at this, nodding slowly. "So who is he?"

"Just looking at him, he looks more like a general than I ever did-"

"Eddie, whatever they did to you, you still have fangs-"

"-but he's also not as... dark. Not as cold either; have you noticed he glows?" Eddie shook his head. "Anyway. The glowing, the warmth, the way that things grow around him, which is way different than them dying like things usually do from the Upside Down.... I'd say he's Pelor."

"Pelor? But Pelor is benign, what's he doing fighting us?"

"That's where Vecna's influence must come in. He tried to-to corrupt Steve, and he couldn't, so he just... confused him." Eddie drummed his fingers together, thinking hard. "It's like- like Vecna's cast Confusion on him. We just have to break the spell."

"But if he's never here long enough for us to use the song- he ran away last time, if we can't keep him around, how can we break the curse?" Dustin asked, face furrowed in thought. "How do we get him back if every time we try, he disappears?"

"We make it so he can't disappear," Eddie supplied. "We need to convince him that he's safe with us, like a feral cat- yeah, exactly like a cat! Baby steps, we make sure he knows he's safe with us, and we can get him back."

∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆

I think maybe one or two more parts and this will be over???

Tags: @amoris-no-smut-allowed @swimmingbirdrunningrock

#villain steve #pelor steve harrington #kas eddie munson #ex-villain eddie #the party #stranger things headcanons #steve harrington #tadaaaa

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starbylers · 1 year

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Mike ‘rejecting but accepting’ Will cannot co-exist with Will getting a happy ending

Even when I try to genuinely picture a scenario in which we get an ‘I accept you’ ending to Byler (it’s not happening this is just a thought exercise lol) I just…can’t? It's impossible to do without sounding like someone who's never read or written a story in their life:

Mike says 'You'll always be my best friend but I'm straight and I love my girlfriend sorry' and then what? They just never talk about it again? Ignore the elephant in the room every time they're together? Mike can't do anything to help Will with this, other than distance himself to make it easier but it's practically confirmed they will be a team next season so that's not happening. Will is not a robot, he won't just stop loving Mike because Mike says he's straight. Will already believes Mike is straight and in love with El, and yet his feelings are strong as ever. They won't just disappear, it would take time and active effort.

So if this 'rejection' happens early in the season (giving Will actual time to feasibly move on), if his arc was really to 'get over Mike', is he just going to hang around the rest of the season feeling sad but trying to forget about it? So it's just another season of Will being in unnecessary emotional turmoil...and then one day he just kind of does forget about it and the storyline fizzles out? What even is that. Like try and picture how this would actually play out on screen, it's ridiculous to even consider.

The only solid place Will's acceptance story could go after confessing to Mike is coming out to his family (and hopefully the party) which we obviously all want for him and I hope they get a really beautiful scene, but the problem is the audience knows everyone will love Will no matter what (he might not know, but we do and we are the target audience here) so there's no stakes. The only real stakes in Will's coming out from a storytelling perspective is how Mike will react (it’s the only uncertain variable), and if we get this very early on in the season (giving Will time for a believable 'moving on' arc) his storyline would be incredibly anti-climactic, it would have peaked and have nowhere else to go. It's not like he's going to date someone else.

And if we don't get the 'rejection' early on, Will won't have time to feasibly get over it (especially since we already established that being rejected and moving on would not be an automatic process for someone as unconditionally in love as Will is with Mike), and he would inevitably end the season unhappy. But we know that's not happening so...

And no him getting over it during the time-skip is still not logical or good storytelling, it would be a cop-out and an unsatisfying plot device. Like Will confesses and is rejected by the boy he loves then it’s the next episode and he just doesn’t care anymore and the whole storyline is dropped? If it was an early season time-skip, then he’d have no real personal arc for the rest of (majority of) the season. If it was a mid-late season time skip, we’d still have him either pining or trying to move on (which is a painful and hard process for anyone) for the whole pre-skip, depending on when exactly the rejection occurs.

It's not that Bylers think Will couldn’t ever be happy without Mike but it's that the narrative as it's set up is not going to accomodate that whilst also adhering to basic storytelling principles (and without the writers letting a gay character constantly suffer with no pay off). He will either end up with Mike, spend the season hurting/pining/struggling again but by the end it just sort of fades into nothing (‘moving on’), OR they will drag his unrequited love to the final episodes guaranteeing his unhappy ending. Anything else would be nonsensical and unrealistic aka him just being fine and happy and completely over it right after he's rejected. Or them completely forgetting about the build up of this storyline with the excuse of a time jump, cutting short his personal arc and leaving the character with nowhere to go. These are literally the only options for the end of Will's story, and the only one that is happy and is objectively the better-written story is Byler.

#byler #I wrote this during an exam help

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howtobecomeadragon · 10 months

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okay okay okay so SURE mike was having little fluttery feelings in his stomach every time will brushed him or touched elbows with him or his arm gently rested on mike's wrist as he pointed at the heart on the painting. SURE. he got a little giddy, distressingly distracted, and a wee bit scared about how strongly it all felt.

BUT what about will?? will had been left in a mess of heartbreak and longing and missing mike so hard his chest hurt for five months. he missed his friend, he missed his best friend since they were five years old. they'd always walked close enough to brush shoulders and tapped each other to get the other's attention and sat next to each other and held hands when the big things in life felt too large and too frightening. things had changed since el, but the wide majority of their friendship had been composed of gentle, sweet touches and will missed it so much it hurt. he liked the little reassurances that mike brought with just a carefully placed hand: the comfort of the one he trusted more than anyone just inches away, shoulder to shoulder.

mike didn't lean in for a hug at the airport and it left will off kilter and missing it more than ever. but then mike leaned his knee on will's as they put on their skates and will felt confused. it felt like maybe mike was saying "i'm sorry, i'm still here." so will went ahead and ahead and ahead. he poked mike hard when they fought bc he was angry, angry about more than he could say, about more than mike could surely understand. they walk shoulder to shoulder after they fight, angry still, angry and hurt but mike was still there and will didn't dream of putting more distance. mike was taller now. but he was still mike.

after el is taken away mike is hurting and scared and so will sits next to him, close on the bed. mike doesn't move away. will hopes it provides just a little bit of comfort. they haven't made up yet but that's okay. they make up, and they squeeze together when guns are firing in his house, and will can barely breathe from the fear of it all, but mike keeps him safe. he holds him back from running after jonathan, he hides will's body when he can.

they run away and will finds himself grabbing his own wrist, fiddling with his watch to stop from reaching out bc mike is a mess and will doesn't know how much is too much and what would be too obvious anymore. will leans in while looking at the computer and mike leans away, so will does too.

when mike needs it, will gives him the painting and rests his arm across mike's wrist to point out the heart on mike's shield. his own heart is thudding too hard at what he's saying, weighing every word just right, changing each pronoun to fit el, always el, never him. he doesn't notice the way mike's eye snags there at their overlapping arms. he's too busy trying to keep his voice steady. the touch helps him though. it's a reminder of all their calming touches before.

at the gas station, will leans in again, and his arm brushes mike's shirt. it's not enough but el is there. will is scared and being this close is good enough. it's better than nothing. when el is in the bath, they're pressed elbow to elbow and it helps the fear coursing in his veins for his sister.

mike tells el that he loves her and will knew that he did, of course mike loves el. it still hurt to hear. his heart felt weary of all of the hurt. he puts some distance between them ans instead of squeezing into the backseat with the two of them, he sat up front. mike hugs everyone but him apparently, and el leans on mike for comfort at the hospital. will looked at mike and mike came closer though. their hands were so close that will could feel warmth of them. he didn't understand how max could be gone. right in front of them but still gone. he wanted someone to put a hand on his shoulder or pull him in closer or hold his hand. he wanted it all from mike. he wanted to be looked after and cared for. he supposed he wouldn't ever be the one to lean his head on mike. maybe they were too old now. maybe he loved too much and too obviously.

mike seemed uncertain about el's silence and so will gave again, a simple touch to nudge mike to tear his eyes from el's bedroom door. he always gave love, and he hoped he might get some back someday. mike listened to him on the couch and as he admitted what he felt as soon as they returned to hawkins. he could feel vecna, could feel him like he'd felt him before and it made him cold and like a long lost horror had secreted itself away inside his head and might not ever come out. he wanted to feel something else, anything else, and suddenly he did. mike's hand on his shoulder was warm and his grip was tight, like he was anchoring will down to stay with him there on the couch. it helped.

will takes what he can get for now. it's not a lot, but it's a reminder of the comfort from before. at least it's something. at least it's mike. maybe he'll ask for more someday. it seems unthinking to ask for more, but the want seems too big to fit in his chest sometimes. sometimes it feels like it's creeping down his arm and into his hand, and he'll reach out for mike's hand to hold before he can stop himself. maybe that would be okay. maybe mike would hold his hand.

#byler #will byers yearning hours

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chloe-skywalker · 10 months

Text

Door Open (Part 2) - Billy Hargrove

Part 2

Billy x Fem!reader Hopper

Warnings: mentions of abuse

Word count: 1,647

Summary: Neil went to far this time and Y/n wants Billy out.

Authors Note: Here’s Part 2! So this is only 2 parts but maybe I’ll make more if you all like it and would like more.

Masterlist

Stranger Things Masterlist

Part 1

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

It had been months since the dinner and things were good. They didn’t have to hide anymore. Billy had been over practically every day since. And to surprise everyone, Hopper didn’t mind. He actually grew to like the boy and his daughter turned out to be right. He was very different behind closed doors. But Hopper had sensed something off with him and he just wished he could figure it out. Although he might find out soon.

It was around midnight when Y/n heard the sound of tapping against her window. She turned her head and out the dark window was her boyfriend. Y/n got up and opened her window, helping him into her room.

When Y/n looked up at Billy once he was fully standing to the best of his ability at the moment. She was shocked, he had never looked this bad before. And that was saying something. “Oh God- Billy.”

“Yeah, I know.” Billy let out a huffed laugh even though it really hurt. He was pretty sure he had some cracked ribs. “It’s bad this time.”

Y/n looked him over with wide extremely concerned eyes. There were bruises everywhere old and new but the new were really nasty looking, and they weren’t even done developing yet. “No kidding.”

Y/n was glad that her door was shut right now so no questions would be raised. Y/n grabbed all her medical stuff she stored in her room, with the upside down crap and her boyfriend it came in handy. As she cleaned the cuts Billy occasionally hissed. “Sorry.”

Billy shook his head. “It’s fine. Doesn’t hurt as bad right now.”

Y/n let out a sigh knowing what needed to be done. She’d have to convince him though. “I can’t let you live there anymore, Billy.”

With a sigh of his own Billy answered sadly. “There’s nothing you can do about it, Y/n/n.”

“We could tell my dad.” y/n told him, her dad was the sheriff after all. She knew he could do something. “He could help.”

“Hopper already barely tolerates me. Why would he help me?” Billy knew him and Hopper seemed to be on good terms but it always felt like the other shoe would drop at any time. Billy never felt safe around adults, for good reasons.

Y/n reached for his hands and monevered on herself to also sit on her bed, looking him in the eyes. “He’d do it for me. Because as you said he is tolerating you- well he’s doing that for me. Plus my father doesn’t think kindly about people who abuse their children or any person abusing one. Look at El and her situation.”

Billy sat there thinking about her words for a moment before asking. “You think he’d really help me?”

Y/n nodded. “I do. Even if we weren’t together, hell even if we weren’t even friends. He’d still help you.”

Billy knew it was time, he had to agree with Y/n. He couldn’t live under Neil anymore. “Okay.”

“Really? I know how you feel about telling people anything personal, let alone this.” Y/n asked, wanting to make sure he was sure.

“Yeah. I think its time. I need out and I can’t do it on my own. Plus I don’t want anything like this to also happen to Max. She may be a brat but no one deserves what he’s capable of.” Billy nodded looking Y/n in the eyes. It needed to be done.

^ ^ ^

“Hey, dad?” Y/n spoke, poking her head out her door. Not opening in enough for anymore to see into her room. She didn’t want El and Mike seeing Billy’s state or asking questions. This needed to be between the 3 of them only.

“Hmmm?” Hopper hummed, shifting his eyes off El and Mike and to his oldest daughter.

“Can you come to my room for a sec?” She nodded back towards her door with raised brows, giving her dad a look to tell him it was private and serious.

“Sure.” Hopper nodded, getting up and heading to Y/n’s room.

“Thanks.” Y/n thanked him before pulling him into her room.

Upon entering her room Hopper saw Billy and he could feel his blood boiling. But upon a longer second look his more pressing question became ‘what happened to his oldest’s boyfriend?’ Billy wasn’t known to lose a fight. More than half the time he walked away with barely any bruises or scratches. But right now, Billy was sporting a black eye forming, a cut on his head, split lip, bruises old and new, and his shirt was completely unbuttoned showing off a really nasty almost black bruise across his ribs. Meaning to Hopper that his ribs were either extremely bruised, cracked but most likely a few were broken.

“What’s?” He glanced down at his daughter. “What’s going on?”

Y/n walked around him to pull out her desk chair gesturing for her dad to sit. “Can you sit down? Billy, has something he wants to tell you.”

Hopper did as he asked as Y/n went and sat down next to Billy, grabbing his hand in hers for what Hopper preserved was reassurance. “What’s wrong, kid?”

With that Billy went on to explain to Hopper all about Niels abuse. Every detail and for how long it had been going on for. He told the older man everything, with Y/n’s support.

Hopper noticed when some things got hard for Billy to talk about he either looked to Y/n or she would squeeze his hand. He came to the conclusion that his daughter had become Billy’s safety blanket.

And he was proud of her for being there for the boy who had been through things that no child ever should go through.

“And I didn’t want to tell anyone or let anyone know because back in California no one seemed to notice or care so. . . My plan was just wait it out- till ya know, I turned 18.” Billy told the sheriff nervously bouncing his leg.

“But…” Y/n encouraged him to continue. He needed to get it out, she knew that.

“But, now he’s worse and the worse he gets I worry about him with Max now. He wouldn’t do anything before because of Susan, but he’s getting sloppy.” Billy appreciated more than he could ever put into words Y/n’s support. Everything she’s ever done for him, including loving him.

Y/n turned her attention to her dad with hopeful and nervous eyes. “Can you do anything to help?”

Hopper nodded, hell even if he couldn’t legally he’d find a way to get rid of that piece of shit. Niel Hargrove. “Yeah, I can help.”

Y/n nudged Billy shoulder to shoulder with a smile. “I told you.”

“Yeah, you did.” Billy nodded with a small smile on his lips as well.

“But for now you can’t let him or Susan know that anything is out of the ordinary.” Hopper spoke up, leaning back in the chair.

Billy looked back at Hopper confused. “Out of the ordinary?”

“What do you mean dad?” Y/n asked as well, confused like Billy.

“We have an extra room. I want you to slowly start moving your stuff into it. And I want Max to slowly start moving her stuff here too, into El’s room. I’m sure they’ll love becoming roommates.” he scoffed thinking of how that was going to go. And how he and Billy will be outnumbered.

“The sleepover that never ends.” Y/n laughed, shaking her head happily at the thought.

“Exactly.” Hopper smiled, letting out a huff of air.

“I’m still confused.” Billy stated with a furrowed brow looking between the father and daughter confused.

Y/n squeezed his hand and gently pulled him closer, if that was even possible. Smiling at him, she was very happy at this new found situation. “You and Max are moving in. Here. With us.”

“I-” Billy was speechless looking at Hopper in shock. But Hopper could see the hint of relief in the young man's eyes.

“Son.” Hopper felt bad for the boy. This had obviously been going on for a long time and it had affected Billy more than he showed or let on. No wonder he starters fights, Hopper thought, he needs a cover for the bruises and a way to vent out his anger about his father. “Once things are all ready to go and in motion, things are gonna move fast. And I'm not going to have you or Max in that house or anywhere near it when it happens. Max I consider already like a daughter, she’s over enough to be one. And you Billy. I like you more than I would care to admit. You're like a son to me, I think you need to know that.”

Billy could only sit and look at his girlfriend's dad in complete shock. He could never find the words to tell Hopper how much this and what he said meant to him. Billy was very appreciative for what he was willing to do to help him. “Thank you, sir.”

Hopper stood up and placed his hand on Billy’s shoulder and squeezed. “Son, you can call me Hopper.”

Billy nodded. “Thanks Hopper.”

“No problem. I’ll get you a shirt to sleep in. You are not going back to that house tonight.” Hopper stated exiting the room to do as he said. This was a night where the closed door rule for the couple wouldn’t apply. Hopper wasn’t going to split them up tonight.

“He called me son. More than once.” Billy’s voice cracked and his eyes held happy tears as he looked to Y/n with a watery smile.

“Yeah, he did.” Y/n smiled at him, things were going to be okay now.

taglist: @gruffle1 @padawancat97 @starkleila

#y/n #imagine #imagines #billy #hargrove #billy hargrove x hopper reader #billy hargrove x hopper!reader #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove imagine #billy hagrove imagines #x reader #stranger things #stranger #things #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #stranger things imagines #netflix

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devilfic · 2 years

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❝love languages❞

pairing: eddie munson x gn!reader. cw: brief mention of drug use. words: 1.2k.

I think eddie has three love languages: gift giving/receiving, quality time, and physical touch

as eddie is someone who didn’t grow up with a lot, he and his uncle often had to make do with what they had. whether it meant packing school lunches with what little was left in the fridge or sewing up the holes in eddie’s jacket with scraps from old bed sheets, eddie grew up understanding the value of doing what you can for another person out of love

which makes eddie an excellent gift-giver

eddie almost always has something to give you whenever he sees you

on your very first anniversary, eddie thrifted some fancy spoons and turned the handles into matching rings for you both, presenting yours to you at lover’s lake with a flourishing bow. he wears his damn near everywhere, he never takes it off

he also insisted on making each other’s lunches for valentine’s day and came to school with a PB&J cut (very badly) into the shape of a heart

he’s so surprisingly romantic that the hellfire club can’t even make fun of him for being so smitten with you. it’s just too cute ;-;

(and mike absolutely takes notes for el)

actually, dustin isn’t above teasing him. eddie may flay him on the track field for everyone to see but it’s worth it for the bit

eddie is also a FIRM believer in matching clothes

you bet your ass he’ll show up to school with a fresh new jean jacket under his arm for you

“I’ll even help you spruce it up! could put your favorite band on here, or rainbows and ponies, whatever the hell you want”

and he loves seeing you in it. he feels this insane pride when, even on a hot day, you’ve got it tied around your waist because you just wanna show off the cool jacket your boyfriend got you

eddie, in return, doesn’t want anything fancy

as I said before, he’s used to making do with what he has, but he always appreciates when you do go out of your way to get him something

even if you pick some flowers off the side of the road and present it to him at the door to his trailer on movie night, he’ll act like you’ve just given him a dozen red roses and keep them in a vase on his window sill until they start to die

and even then he’ll just dry them out and put them back in the vase afkdjfsdf

also pls give him new patches for his jacket

literally every single thing you’ve given him is displayed somewhere in his room or kept in a shoebox in his closet for safekeeping

he never wants to lose a thing. he’s 100% the type to keep things from his loved ones for as long as possible

also.... if ur into it.... I think he’d really like to get matching piercings with you

it would be a spur of the moment kinda thing? and probably something small in case you might get in trouble

you hold each other’s hands when you get them done and he’s got the biggest smile on his face when you’re all done

even if you don’t end up getting a piercing, he’ll really appreciate you being there. he’ll even pretend the piercing really hurts (it’s like his fifth one) so you’ll comfort him with kisses afterwards

speaking of which,, eddie is such a sucker for physical comfort

eddie is a big fan of casual touch so it shouldn’t be a surprise

before you start dating, eddie would grab you by the shoulders or tackle you in the hallway on the way to class

you get very used to feeling his hands on you whenever the two of you were in the same vicinity

if you had an issue with this, he’d of course back off because he’s a Gentleman, but if you’re fine with it, he’s just all over you all the time

it’s kind of what gives it away that he has feelings for you before he confesses

as those feelings deepen, the touches become a lot less casual

instead of jerking you around by the shoulders, he squeezes them gently between his big hands, sometimes bold enough to let his fingers graze your collarbone just to see you shiver

he’d come in for big hugs and tuck his face into your neck, mouth SUSPICIOUSLY close to the skin there

(the closer and more comfortable you are, the more likely he is to plant a sneaky little kiss there. so faint, you spend the rest of the day in a daze wondering if it actually happened)

he comes up behind you very often and the heat of him at your back as he taunts you in a low voice damn near sends your eyes rolling into the back of your head-

I’m getting carried away

now, these gestures are easy for him because they’re often not openly sensual. you could pass it off as him just playing around, trying to tease you

but when you’re dating and he’s off the deep end? even the slightest touch can have him melting

you’re sitting behind him on his mattress while he plays guitar and you start braiding his hair? skdjfasfkjfsf

you wipe his face clean after getting messy cooking in his kitchen? AKSFJAKSJFfh

you’re goofing around and blow some smoke into his mouth in lieu of a kiss? just like. kill him already

he’s sos daksjfkafsfaddfadgsd\

AHHHHHHH

god,,, you turn him into the biggest simp

you’re the morticia to his gomez, he fucking worships you

and finally, he loves spending time with you

he absolutely ropes you into the hellfire club, and whether you play or just like to watch, he’s always looking over his dm screen to steal glimpses of you

he’s especially elated if you’re following along with the story every week if you’re not playing

and if you are playing, he tries very hard not to give you extra special treatment because the boys would tear him limb from limb

he loves playing guitar for you as well

because you come over so often, he often plays you songs that his band is working on and love songs that he’s had on repeat since he first met you

he gets a little twitchy and nervous when you watch him so intently but the way your eyes light up during his performance is like. he could die right then and there and have no regrets other than not getting to spend the rest of his life with you

when he gets really riled up over jason being a dickhead, you’ll take him into the woods behind school where he’ll vent and then scream it out together with you until you’re both laughing and spent

and every single time, no matter what, he’s so thankful that you gave him a chance

he just loves you a lot. you make the shitty parts of life feel less shitty

you know that quote from everything, everywhere, all at once? the one that’s like “in another life, I would’ve really liked just doing laundry and taxes with you”? eddie feels that way for you

even if everything else sucks, he really does believe having you to come back to would make it all worth it

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson scenarios #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson #stranger things x reader #stranger things scenarios #stranger things imagines #stranger things headcanons #stranger things #mjwrites

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messrsbyler · 1 year

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today i’m thinking about mike’s face when will yelled “FORGET IT, MIKE!” because they’ve never talked to each other like that. they’ve never had to yell at each other, it’s just not them. mike has to yell a lot so other people listen to him; with his parents and sister at dinner when will was lost and they wouldn’t listen to him, with lucas and dustin when they wouldn’t listen about el, with el when she wouldn’t understand how much she hurt him when they pulled will’s fake body out of the water, with hopper when he was being an overprotective asshole (affectionate).

but mike has never had to raise his voice with will to be heard. with will a whisper is enough, sometimes not even that. sometimes a simple look is all it takes for will to just listen and see him. and the same goes for will. quiet and shy will that only shows his true colors when mike is around, that gets loud not because he’s frustrated he’s not being heard but because he feels safe enough to not care who hears and who doesn’t.

will has never had to raise his voice because mike has always listened to him at all times. but this time, he didn’t. he was so preoccupied with the girls he stopped listening to will and made him feel frustrated the way mike feels at the dinner table with his parents, invisible enough and unheard enough, frustrated enough that will felt the need to snap and yell to be heard because mike wouldn’t listen to what he had to say. thinking about how shocked mike was, first at will’s reaction because it had never happened before and then to himself because in which moment did he stop listening to will?

also thinking about how will felt, how for the past few weeks he’s been feeling like mike, the one constant in his life, has been slipping through his fingers and how he put together this campaign in a desperate attempt to get his friends back, but his grip is still to weak and mike keeps slipping away and will panics because this can’t happen. mike is his. mike is his person. mike chose him at the swings he can’t now toss him aside because he found a new person? someone he can make out with and take on dates and do many things he can’t do with will? el can’t come out of nowhere and take mike from him. but the problem here isn’t el, the problem is mike because he keeps letting it happen as if it didn’t matter, as if will didn’t matter anymore because he wasn’t lost anymore he wasn’t possessed either and he wasn’t a girl so what did he have to hold mike’s attention? to make mike listen to him? why won’t mike just listen to him? so will snapped at mike, he yelled and stormed out and… and they’ve never been like this, not with each other. will isn’t the type of person that lets his feelings get the best of him, the one that yells and pushes people out of the way and storms out of a room. that’s what lonnie does. will has seen him do it many times before. it isn’t something will does, especially not with mike.

so what happened? how the hell did they get to this point?

anyway thinking many thoughts

#byler #byler tumblr #mike wheeler #will byers #stranger things #byler endgame #mike x will #mike wheeler analysis #mike wheeler’s mental health

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