#jaws stranger things

[where-is-francis]

Steve harrington x male reader fluff where steve is dating a flim nerd and they work together but in the breakroom they make out

𝙁𝙞𝙧𝙨𝙩 𝙎𝙝𝙞𝙛𝙩

𝙎𝙩𝙚𝙫𝙚 𝙃𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙩𝙤𝙣 𝙭 𝙈𝙖𝙡𝙚!𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

Before You Interact - Rules Of My Blog

𝙋𝙧𝙤𝙢𝙥𝙩: Clumsy beginnings can lead to happy endings. Even for a former-douchebag like Steve Harrington.

𝙋𝙧𝙤𝙣𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙨: He/Him (fem aligned DNI, you have plenty of stuff)

𝙎𝙩𝙮𝙡𝙚: Literally all fluff.

𝘼/𝙉: IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK AGES I NEVER CHECK MY DRAFTS AND I FORGOT JFC but I had this idea for meeting Steve for the first time (bc my first impressions are always awful) and decided I had to write it like this. So it’s not exactly like the request but still.

𝙏𝙒: Throwback to when Steve got drugged by the Russians, mentions of weed (he tries to convince you he doesn’t smoke/it was a one time thing), no use of Y/N, I think that’s it.

The mention of Steve Harrington’s name would’ve earned no reaction from you at one point. He wasn’t anybody special, just another name and face in the school hallway. You never really had any classes together, and the end of high school solidified the difference in interests. You’d be lying, however, if you said it didn’t surprise you to see the brunette sporting a gaudy sailor suit and taking employment at Starcourt.

It wasn’t unusual for you to be at the mall. You and a few friends would normally meet up to go see whatever was playing in the theater as an excuse to hang out. It was a mutually loved experience — though you’d lost count of how many popcorn kernel shells had gotten stuck in your teeth that summer. If you weren’t at the theater, you were probably at the video store. Your life revolved around movies.

Naturally, it wasn’t surprising that the theater was where Steve met you on a very specific night. But his first impression was anything but perfect. In actuality, you’d forgotten all about it until a few weeks after when he came in for his first shift during late August. It was surprising, to say the least — considering how Keith despised him — but the brunette seemed pretty happy to swap the ‘Ahoy!’ printed hat for an equally ugly green vest.

It was early on a Thursday when he had his first shift with you. In his mind, he had been dreading and simultaneously looking forward to the shift. It was inevitable that your schedules would line up, but it still seemed too soon. The most you’d seen of each other was in passing or payday, casual interactions that left the (taller/shorter) male silently thinking about you for the rest of the evening.

You dreaded the shift a bit as well. Not for any big reason, but Keith said Steve had a shitty taste in movies. And it would’ve broken your heart, just the tiniest bit, to see the look on his face when you shot down his trashy recommendation to fill the lobby.

Even for only being there a few weeks, he caught on quickly, but had to redo his work most of the time considering how clumsy he was when flirting — both verbally and literally. While attempting to woo a really nice brunette girl, his stack of returns fell and scattered along the floor. You watched, amused, as the two picked the tapes up.

She left without getting anything other than a laugh.

Steve glanced at one of the hanging clocks, squinting a bit to make out the time.

“Break time?”

Your (e/c) hues caught the time and you nodded, motioning towards the back room. Nobody was likely to come in, but you left the break room door propped open just in case. Steve walked over to the fridge and pulled out the leftover pasta you had stowed away. The beige walls and cheap folding furniture didn’t do much to add comfort to the room, but your smile definitely did. He moved slightly, giving you space to use the small microwave.

Since that night at the mall, something about you had the (taller/shorter) male hooked. He remembered knocking the drink into your chest and muttering apologies, before staring at you in his drugged haze. You weren’t mad and began laughing it off immediately, instead becoming concerned about the blood and bruises that hid his features. Something about the way those fluorescent lights in a multitude of colors made you look ethereal and otherworldly. He had never seen a guy like you.

With the pasta finished warming up, you made your way to the small table while Steve tried to hide how he looked at you. He grabbed a half-empty can of Pringles and moved to lean against the wall. The loud climactic score of Terminator rang through the empty lobby and provided ample ambience for you two.

Steve’s sneaker tapped anxiously in tune to the music, leaving him to figure out what to say.

“Hey, I just — wanted to apologize? For, like, when we first met and everything.”

You looked up and met his eyes. He was expecting a confused look or for you to be mad, but you rolled your eyes instead. “Oh please, don’t even worry about that.”

He took this as an invitation to pull up the chair across the table and offer you a chip — to which you declined — before he continued.

“You actually remember that?”

“Uh, how could I not? I was seeing Back To The Future on the Fourth of July and you ran into me so hard I spilled my Coke. Not to mention I’ve never seen anybody’s pupils so wide — what did you do that night?”

Steve groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose with embarrassment, but smiled underneath his palm. Something about the way his bushy brows furrowed was unexpectedly cute and endearing in your eyes.

Nobody could deny that Steve Harrington was attractive. No, he definitely was. But especially now — not being shadowed by Tommy or Carol or any of the other stuck-up assholes from school. Now he was best friends with an awkward band girl and gaggle of dorky freshman. He was different. Still handsome and confident, but more authentic.

Steve leaned back a bit in the folding chair. “Oh man. That was a trip, for sure. I had a, uh, special brownie after work and was going to meet somebody to see a movie. I definitely overdid it, though.”

A smile formed over your features as you leaned closer to keep the conversation quiet. Keith wasn’t supposed to come in, but if anybody found out about Steve and the brownie, the nerd would definitely use it to fire him.

“Holy shit. Did it kick in during the movie? Wait — what happened to your face? You were all… bloody and fucked up.”

The brunette laughed and tried to think of a convincing lie. You wouldn’t believe he was drugged by Russians, of course, but it wasn’t a good idea to blurt that out. He leaned back and stretched a bit, giving you a good view of his toned arms that perfectly filled out his striped shirt.

“It kicked in before the movie even started. But Billy had been messing with Max — stepsister, friends with Dustin — and I tried to get him to just go home. Needless to say, he wasn’t happy about it.”

“So you fought him again and lost?”

He somewhat faked offense. “Uh, no. I didn’t lose. For your information, he had a date and left. But I’m assuming you knew about the first time?”

Steve watched as you poked and prodded the lukewarm noodles in the Tupperware container. It was evident that you were enjoying the story, anybody could tell with how your eyes glinted mischievously in the humming light of the break room.

“Of course. Everybody knew. I mean, I always thought it was pretty cool how you watched out for Henderson and stuff. Even if it did mean getting your ass kicked.” You wiggled your eyebrows at him.

He couldn’t be mad. In all honesty, it made him giddy — the idea of you thinking he was cool or something. The titles and admiration from peers began to matter less and less since graduation, they were nothing more than grains of sand. You, however, were different. You didn’t have to try to be anything — it came naturally.

Steve’s eyes wandered over every detail of your appearance as you focused on the pasta. It was like he was back in the theater, staring wide eyed at some (h/c) haired God.

Though you couldn’t see it, you felt the warmth of his gaze. “You’re staring again, Harrington.”

A hint of red dusted over his freckled cheeks. In an attempt to avoid saying something stupid, he resorted to eating again. The silence wasn’t tense, but it wasn’t very comfortable either. You wanted to ask about that night at the mall, as well as why he still seemed to look at you like you were the most beautiful thing the world had to offer. At first, the mall situation could’ve been a fluke. He was high out of his mind — it would make perfect sense.

But now? He looked at you in the exact same way, nearly a year later, completely sober.

You rested your chin into the palm of your hand and met his gaze again. “I bet the movie was totally amazing in that state.”

Steve nodded and flashed you a grin. It reminded you of that night and how his smile still seemed perfect, even with his perfect white teeth contrasting greatly to the dried blood that had covered his face.

“It was… something, that’s for sure. Felt like my mind was just gonna—” he gestured and made a cheesy explosion noise, “—yannow?”

“And was that from the brownie, or the movie?”

The brunette laughed nervously and shifted in his seat. Your voice was enough to drive him insane in the best possible way; sweet, caring, but still teasing enough to keep him going. Robin had been telling him to just go for it — he didn’t want to get his hopes up at first, but she insisted her superpower was having ‘gaydar’. That, and you’d not so subtly flirted with a few guys that came into the store.

Unbeknownst to you, Steve’s heart picked up in pace like it was about to pop out of the confines of his chest. It almost beat in time to the ending credits of the long forgotten movie that played in the lobby, and left a rhythmic pulse going through his body. He shrugged a bit, trying — and failing — to stop the words before they could come out.

“It was the movie at first, but something changed. I just remember looking at the lights then I ran into you.”

You laughed. “You looked at me like a deer in the headlights. I was tempted to call an ambulance, if I’m being honest.”

“I don’t blame you. I feel like I stared for hours or something — you just looked really hot. I mean, besides being covered in Coke. Pretty sure I told Robin you were a Greek God, or an angel, or something. At first I thought it was just the drugs, but then I saw you again and just… it’s the same thing.” He rambled.

And there it was, out in the open, before he could even realize what he was doing. Steve’s motion came to a blunt pause while he registered what he just said aloud. The pace of his heartbeat picked up until its thumping was the only thing he could hear.

The words came out of his mouth so quickly, and clumsily, like they weren’t a combination of the most genuine thoughts and that anybody had ever had about you. It was like an earthquake had just spawned out of nowhere, and once the rumbling stopped, your mind was racing as fast as your heart.

Steve took the silence as a very polite rejection. Once his own earthquake settled, he would try and apologize — ask you to forget about it — and he, too, would try. Every word was genuine, but the timing was off. Even then, he didn’t want to look across the white plastic table and meet the disgust in your eyes.

It would’ve killed him.

You sat with Steve in the stillness for what felt like too long. When his pleading gaze finally met yours, clearly working out what to say, he was met with a smile. Red heat filled the high points of your cheeks and spread into a dusting at the tips of your ears; it wasn’t hot, just warm.

“Holy shit… that’s, like, the nicest thing anybody’s ever said about me. Do you mean it?” The words came out ever so breathy.

Just like that, the former king of Hawkins High let the rest of his composure slip. It was like being exposed for the first time in a while; he wasn’t some arrogant rich boy with his pick of the school. The boy in front of you was as clumsy as he was gorgeous.

“I mean, yeah.” A nervous laugh worked through his body. “This isn’t exactly how I pictured our first shift together — just so you know.”

You grinned at him from across the table. “Me either. But I wouldn’t change a thing.”

There was no rush, but the brunette still felt like he should say something. No words of substance circled his mind, however, so he sat in silence with you in the dull room. Everything about the (accidental) confession had him feeling giddy and like he would melt into a puddle at any moment. With your lunch finished, you put the lid back on and moved it out of the way. At the sound of the bell from the counter, you maneuvered out of the room, sending Steve one last smile before attending to the customer.

A few hours had passed until the moon replaced the sun in a navy blue sky. And though the confession wasn’t what he had planned, not in the slightest, Steve was just glad that you’d been willing to give him a chance. For the rest of the shift, he would inevitably try to think of a nice date for you two. Unfortunately, he didn’t know much of your other interests at the moment — would it be too cheesy to go to the movies? Hawkins wasn’t exactly known for its creative date spots.

Your not-so-secret admirer leaned on his elbows across the counter as you worked on shutting down the computers for the night. It was silent in the door, now filled with a bit of darkness, save for the clacking of keys and the slinky that Steve messed with. The computer screen finally dulled in color and fizzed a bit as it turned off. The brunette followed as you moved towards the door to lock up, trying desperately to figure out how to word things. He hovered beside you like a shadow while you spun the open sign around and tugged the door closed.

“Whatever you’re thinking, the answer is yes.” You eyed him carefully with a smug grin.

“Really?”

“Of course. On one condition, though.” Steve nodded a bit nervously as you began to trap him between your body and the window, “If it involves movies, I’m picking. You may be pretty, but your taste is… in need of work.”

He smiled again. The (taller/shorter) male moved his hand to yours, not quite holding it, just gently running a thumb over your lower knuckles. Such a small gesture, but one that had you weak in the knees again.

“I think I can live with that.”

Reblogs over likes — it helps other people find my stuff. More male & enby reader content on my blog. ST requests still open!

#x male reader #stranger things x male reader #jaws stranger things #steve harrington x male reader #steve harrington x reader

[hothammies]

are friends electric?

#byler #byler fanart #mike wheeler #will byers #stranger things #i always imagine their first kiss in s5 being in the basement for them idk ab yall #endgame couples got all their first kisses in dimly lit rooms w a lamp in btwn them or to the side ik thats right #also i headcanon will giving mike the jaws poster and mike giving him the thing poster that is all #sammi's art

[steddieas-shegoes]

cw: mentions of scarring, canon-typical violence, flashback (not graphic), minor body horror (again, not graphic, mostly just emotional feelings about scars)

♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️

Everyone gave him weird looks when they walked in, quickly schooling their features when they noticed he was awake and watching them.

He didn’t know exactly what that was about.

They had him on a lot of good drugs.

But eventually he got weaned off them, and he noticed the pull of bandages on his side, and his arm, and his neck, and his face.

He was still unable to get out of bed. Still couldn’t even reach his arms above his chest for more than a few seconds.

But he damn sure reached up to feel the cloth and plastic surrounding his cheek. How had he not noticed for days? How had no one bothered him about it?

Maybe they had and he just didn’t notice. The morphine was one hell of a drug.

Wayne was soft, patient with him. Saw him touching it, saw the way his eyes filled with tears. He’d never been particularly vain, hadn’t cared much about what he looked like to others, but this felt bigger than that. This felt like he was changed in a way that everyone could see.

Add it to the list of things people could bully him for.

He cried himself to sleep, Wayne’s hand in his, silently comforting in the way he’d always done.

When he woke up again the next morning, he was alone.

It was the first time he’d been alone since the boathouse.

He could swear he heard bats outside his door, screams coming from the attached bathroom, flashes of someone dying on the ceiling.

He felt the sharp sting of teeth puncturing his skin.

He felt hopelessness creep into his bones as he gave in.

Maybe this time they would finish the job.

“Eddie!”

Steve Harrington’s voice broke through the thoughts, panicked enough to bring Eddie back to his hospital bed within a second of hearing it.

“Shit, are you okay?” He continued, hand brushing against Eddie’s bandaged cheek.

Eddie nodded once, closed his eyes, leaned into the touch.

He could blame it on any number of things if Steve felt weird about it. The morphine, the flashback, the loneliness.

“You’re okay, Eddie. I promise. Won’t let anything happen to you,” Steve whispered.

Eddie believed him.

He fell back asleep with Steve’s hand gently cupping the mangled side of his face.

If Steve could still touch him there, then maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️

Steve came by every day, sometimes in the early morning, before visiting hours officially started, sometimes well after Wayne had left to get some sleep. He always smiled when he walked in, a genuine one, not the one everyone else gave that was so fully of pity and pain he couldn’t bear to make eye contact. He sat down on the side of the bed, not the chair like everyone else, not scared to be close.

And every single day, without fail, he would run his finger along the edge of Eddie’s bandage on his face, watching his own movements and cataloging any changes.

Eddie sat quietly, still, scared to put words to anything happening. Scared to tell Steve what it meant to him to have someone acknowledge his pain in this way. Scared to think Steve could mean anything by it.

It was easy to pretend Steve was doing this because he cared.

Maybe he did care.

But he didn’t care the way Eddie wanted him to, needed him to.

So he stayed quiet, still.

He watched.

He fell asleep while Steve talked about his day, the kids, what Joyce made Hopper do around the house.

He woke up alone most days, but that was okay, because Steve would be there eventually.

♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️

“You ready to get that thing off?” Wayne asked, gesturing to the bandage.

“Oh. Today?” Eddie suddenly didn’t want to ever be without the bandage. Removing it meant he’d see what was under it.

It meant seeing how much that place had ruined him.

The pull of the stitches hadn’t been as obvious with the pull of the bandage masking it.

But now it’s all he felt.

The nurse smiled at him as she put some antibiotic cream over the area, saying he would probably still have to keep it extra clean for the next week or so while the stitches did their job.

Wayne smiled at him in the way that meant he didn’t really want to smile at all, but knew Eddie needed him to.

Steve didn’t come.

Eddie didn’t sleep.

♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️

He woke up with panic in his chest and a silent scream in his throat.

He woke up with Steve’s hand on his face.

Gentle, soft, but a strong comfort.

“Promise I washed them first. They said we have to be careful about germs,” Steve said quietly.

“You don’t have to. I know it’s…it’s gross. It’s ugly. I’m ugly.”

Steve shook his head. “No. Not gross. Not ugly. Alive.”

“Steve-“

“You’re alive, Eddie. You could have your entire face held together by staples and you would still be a miracle. You’d still be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

Well, Steve’s charm wasn’t an exaggeration, was it?

He wasn’t even sure if the skin barely pulled together could blush anymore, or if the heat that should be on his cheek was burning on the outside the way it felt like it was on the inside.

“It’s gonna be awful when it heals. I saw it in the mirror.” Eddie could feel every stitch in his jaw, the few that spread across the corner of his mouth and bottom lip, the ones that were nearly up to his ear. “I’ll always have a crooked face. The scar will always be huge. It’s all anyone will see.”

“Then they aren’t looking.”

Eddie bit his lip, eyes searching Steve’s. “But you are.”

“No. I’m seeing. There’s a difference. I see you. I see what you’ve survived. I see the mark it left on you. I know it wasn’t just the scars that cover your skin.” Steve leaned his head down, touching Eddie’s forehead with his own. “We all have them. And we’re all still here. Your heart’s beating. That’s all that matters to me.”

“Who knew you were so good with words?” Eddie smiled sadly.

“Robin says I’m just good at not having a filter.”

“She’s right as always.” Eddie wrapped his fingers around Steve’s wrist, turning as slowly as he could to kiss his palm. “You’re not scared of it.”

“No. Are you?”

“I’m scared that you’ll change your mind when it’s always there as a reminder of what happened.”

Steve kissed his nose, making him smile for the first time in what felt like years.

“I’ll have the reminder that I got you out of there. That no matter what, the bats couldn’t finish the job. That you were stronger and you made it.” Steve let his hand drop, but quickly laced his fingers with Eddie’s. “I know it’s a lot to ask of you to trust me, but will you? For today?”

“Just today?”

“I’ll ask again tomorrow.”

“And what? Every day after that?”

Steve smirked.

His eyes were glistening with tears, but Eddie could tell it wasn’t sadness or fear.

“If that’s what I have to do.”

They hadn’t even talked about feelings, not really. Nothing that made any sense to Eddie, nothing that they could define. A part of Eddie was still convinced he was in a coma and dreaming this entire conversation up.

But even the nurse had noticed the way Steve watched him, how he touched him, how he fought for him. She said he’d been a firecracker from the moment he carried him into the hospital, dripping blood on the tile, staining the halls with his demands for help.

Wayne said he barely left his side the first day, only doing so when the doctors had told him they would call the cops if he didn’t.

Erica even noticed how things had changed between them, stating that she refused to watch her babysitter and the only DM she had respect for make out.

But Steve held Eddie, made him feel like he could get out of the hospital bed and live a life that wouldn’t keep him running. Steve was there.

Steve might even love him. If not now, then some day.

And Eddie could trust him today.

He could probably trust him tomorrow.

“Kiss me?” Eddie probably shouldn’t. The stitches tugged when he talked, and another mouth anywhere near his wounds was just asking for an infection.

But Steve would be careful. He knew what Eddie could handle.

It was barely a kiss. A graze of the lips at most.

But it was the best kiss Eddie had ever had.

At least until tomorrow.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #drabble #yall I am having thoughts about Eddie with a very large face scar and it led to this #I know people have drawn stuff before but I’m #I mean like what I am thinking is from his bottom lip across his entire jaw #to his ear and then down his neck #and it’s not remotely even or straight #very jagged when it heals because they weren’t really aiming for stitching it straight they just wanted to get it closed #also a firm believer that Steve has no filter at all and is SO GOOD at romantic declarations because of it #like he doesn’t edit anything #if he loves you you’ll know because he says I love you in all words except those at first #anyways wrote this during dessert for my besties birthday dinner so #not checking for typos hope there aren’t any lmao #if my phone autocorrected she’s probably wrong

[lighthouseas]

will holding mike's face when they kiss and mike holding will's neck when they kiss. that is all

#something something mike getting called frog face and being insecure about his looks and something something will loving him BECAUSE of that #<- like. how he looks #and so when they kiss his fingers naturally drift to mike's face to run over his defined jaw and his cheeks and in his messy curly hair #because will loves & adores those parts of him so much & he finally gets to cherish them as his. #and mike like. tears up about it or whatever. and something something mike subconciously feeling like he needs to protect will from #-everything so he places his hands - his big giant hands that he has also probably been insecure about - over will's neck to cover it #-completely because he wants to stamp out that feeling that darkness lurks around every corner in will's neck #he just wants will to feel safe and warm in his arms and the heat of mike's hands practically dissolves the chill down will's neck #or whatever. if you even care. and they make out sloppy also #stranger things #byler #mike wheeler #will byers #st.txt

[eddie-spaghettios]

#stranger things #joseph quinn #eddie munson #mouth nose and jaw appreciation

[musicalchaos07]

Many thoughts about these two who have been raised by the world's most emotionally distant parents standing there watching the people they love the most leave and not even turning to each other for comfort

#they get panned in on for a reason and that reason is Jonathan and Will respectively #but even the little actions like Nancy is tightening her jaw and Mike just looks hollow #some one get my children some therapy #Joyce Byers hug your daughter and son-in-law #I'm normal about this #stranger things #nancy wheeler #mike wheeler #wheeler siblings #jancy #byler #not my gif

[hearteyes-wheeler]

this look confirmed to me that byler isn't one sided

that boy is not straight. he looks so enamored with will it's insane

#i remember watching this scene for the first time and not only fucking sobbing over what will was saying #but also replaying this specific part with my jaw kn the floor because holy shit mike looks so in love with him #i'm gonna go insane #stranger things #byler

[blushweddinggowns]

Part 2 to this!

Eddie had never considered himself to be a lucky person. Could anyone really blame him? For one thing, he was eaten alive last year. And that wasn’t even counting the fact that he had been a twenty-year old, drug-dealing highschooler before he was sent to literal hell. All after witnessing multiple horrifying homicides. 

But now that he had Steve Harrington on top of him, shoving his tongue down his throat like his life depended on it, he felt like the luckiest man in the world. 

Part of him still couldn’t believe that it was happening at all. He had been fully prepared to just play the part of the pining best friend and suffer through his unrequited crush. He even convinced himself that it would slowly disappear after he got off the high of seeing Steve all bloody and gorgeous in an alternate reality.

But it didn’t. It just got worse and worse. Eddie’s crush just bloomed into a full-blown love. Because Steve Harrington was nothing like he expected. Eddie had never experienced this much whiplash when getting to know someone before. Steve went from highschool bully, to a monster fighting badass, and landed on an adorable, snarky goofball who Eddie basically wanted to spend the rest of his life with. 

It had felt like such a long shot when he asked the question. The question that had been haunting him for months, but Eddie couldn’t help but ask. Not after everything he’d seen. At first he thought it was all in his head, just his overactive imagination trying to convince him he wasn’t alone in his feelings. 

But then he started noticing things. Like how Steve was always available to him, even when he had better options open. It was around the third time he witnessed Steve tell a pretty girl, “Sorry, I have plans tonight,” for him to raise a brow. Because the only plans he ever had was doing stupid shit with him. 

It was when he actually rejected Nancy in favor of getting high and listening to music in Eddie’s room that he got optimistically suspicious. It made him pay more attention, the little voice inside his head was getting louder and louder, that told him, maybe, just maybe, Eddie wasn’t the only one in love here. 

So Eddie let himself get a little bolder, terrified all the while but determined to figure out what was going on here. 

It was small things at first, touches that he would let linger. A hand on Steve’s waist when they puttered around the kitchen together, always giving him a little squeeze before he let go. Brushing his bangs out of his face, his hand curling around his ear before pulling away. Resting his head in Steve’s lap when they were sprawled out on the couch, talking about nothing and everything for hours. 

He didn’t miss the way Steve’s cheeks would redden at every touch, or the sweet little smile put on when he thought Eddie wasn’t looking. It made him feel emboldened, and terribly hopeful. 

So he let himself do more, obvious things that were not normal between two male platonic best friends. He waited until night, because despite what Steve said Eddie was not a brave man. At least then if Steve rejected the hell out of him, he’d never have to see his face. 

In theory it should have been easy. They shared a bed almost every night anyway, Eddie always making easy excuses to explain away why Steve didn’t need to go home. 

It was too late, it was cold outside, the trailer was closer to his work anyway, he could still be high from a hit he took two hours ago, Eddie wasn’t above a single excuse. And Steve never complained, he’d just nod along, agreeing to whatever stupid thing Eddie could think of for the night. 

They slept back to back, trying to hold onto some semblance of normal between them. And Eddie would be lying if he said the thought of breaking it didn’t scare the hell out of him, but that didn’t stop him from draping an arm over Steve’s waist one night. He had pulled him against his chest, heart on the verge of exploding as he waited for Steve’s reaction. 

He hadn’t expected him to turn over in his arms, and Eddie had been almost sure that he was doing it to ask him what the fuck he was doing. But Steve just sighed, all relaxed and happy as he snuggled into his chest, wrapping his own arm around Eddie’s waist.  They woke up tangled together, happy and restful. 

They never talked about it, but every night when Eddie opened up his arms, Steve went right into them. And God did Eddie love it, he loved him. And the idea that there was any chance he could be with him and he wasn’t taking it, was killing him. So he took a shot, and asked the question that had been plaguing him for months. 

And it fucking worked. Here he was, vindicated and rewarded with the most handsome, funny, kind boyfriend to ever live. In all honesty, not that much changed between them, considering how they were basically dating back when they considered themselves “friends”. But now there was the added bonus of being able to kiss the living hell out of him whenever he wanted. And the fact that Steve had apparently been holding out on him, because overnight he became the clingest cuddler Eddie had ever had the pleasure of knowing. 

Whether that be hugs from behind, arms draped around his neck in bed, or Steve clambering up into Eddie’s lap whenever the opprunintuity arose. And it was so fucking cute it made Eddie feel like he could die from happiness. And when he returned the favor, Steve would just melt. A hand on his thigh while they drove, an arm around his waist at friendly get togethers, any small touch was enough to make Steve a blushing, gooey mess. 

The whole thing was amazing and Eddie had never been happier. 

There was just one problem. 

For the life of him, Eddie couldn’t stop making him cry. 

The first time, he understood. It had been a bit of a dick move on his end, to force Steve to admit his feelings because Eddie was too chicken-shit to do it himself. He should have thought about that and he'd apologized more than once for the way he handled the whole thing, even if Steve insisted it was more than fine. He just…never wanted to be the cause of that sad, dejected face ever again. 

But then he did it again, completely accidentally. It had been a lazy Sunday morning, the both of them deciding to sleep in until someone from the outside world forced them out of bed. Eddie woke up first, blinking into the late morning light. Steve was draped across his chest, still sound asleep and only slightly drooling on him.

Eddie ran a hand through his tousled hair, completely lovestruck. The small movement was enough to have Steve shift against him, mumbling about it being too early to wake up. But Eddie was already trailing his hands down his back, more than ready to tickle him awake if need be. And it worked, it always worked, because the next thing he knew Steve was batting his hands away, a tired laugh escaping as he finally opened his eyes. 

He groaned as he blinked into the light, pouting up at Eddie as he rubbed his eyes, “You’re lucky you’re pretty Munson. Or I would have kicked you out of bed by now.”

Eddie grinned, wrapping his arms around him a little tighter, “You’d kick me out of my own bed? That’s cold Stevie.”

“My bed now. A consequence of being with me,” Steve laughed, snuggling closer, “It’s in the contract.”

The snarky comment on his tongue died the second Eddie looked down at him. Steve just looked so…relaxed. Unfairly handsome and happy to be there, tracing patterns along Eddie’s bare chest. He was struck with the realization that he wanted this for the rest of his life. Just Steve, with his bed-head and sleepy smile. Eddie had to look away, staring up at the ceiling as he was suddenly overwhelemed by just how much he loved this guy. 

The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them, embarrassingly earnest, “I think you’re the love of my life.”

Steve was quiet, but he could feel him nodding along as he traced Eddie’s collarbone. For a second, Eddie thought he just hadn’t heard him, and was doing that thing when he pretended like he did. He was a few seconds away from teasingly calling him out for it when he heard it. A soft sniffle, accompanied by a wet feeling, dripping onto him. 

Eddie glanced down, eyes widening at the sight of Steve wiping his tears away, trying and failing to be quiet about it. 

Eddie sat up, slightly panicked as he dragged Steve up with him, “Steve? Baby, what’s wrong? Was it what I said?”

Steve let out a wet laugh, “Not at all. I-fuck, Eddie I think you’re mine too. I swear this hasn’t happened before.”

Eddie was too worried to show how ecstatic that confession made him feel. He held Steve’s face in his hands, wiping away a few tears with his thumbs, “But you’re okay?”

“I’m fine, I swear.” Steve sighed, leaning into the touch, “I’m just being a fucking weirdo.”

“My weirdo.” Eddie corrected before kissing him, the salty taste of his tears be damned. Eddie reasoned that he was probably just overwhelmed, which was normal, considering how Eddie was speedrunning the pace of their relationship. It was a fluke, and that was fine.

But then it happened again. 

It had been a completely normal day, no fights with anyone, no problems at the video store or with any of Eddie’s clients. They were watching a movie on the couch, Eddie’s head resting in Steve’s lap as Fame rolled on in the background. Steve was braiding his hair, absentminded as they commented on the muscial, both agreeing that Robin had really oversold it. 

Though Eddie was a sucker for the New York based movies. He used to dream about running away there when he was a teenager. Working and playing in dingy bars until he was magically discovered and skyrockerted into stardom. But now, at the ripe old age of twenty one, he was much more interested in going wherever Steve would follow. 

He watched the screen, mind wandering as he asked,  “Where would you want to go when we leave Hawkins?”

The hands in his hair paused for a split second before Steve answered, “W-what do you mean?”

“When the kids graduate,” Eddie continued, missing the stutter in Steve’s voice, “We won’t really have any reason to stay here right? It’s probably about time that Wayne got the bachelor pad back anyway.” 

“You…you want to live with me?”

Eddie let out a small laugh, rolling his eyes, “Babe, I don’t know if you’re aware but we kind of already live together.”

He watched the screen, someone whose name he forgot was starting another monolouge, “New York is a bit much, but Indianapolis could probably work. Somewhere with some options, y’know?”

Steve cleared his throat above him, fingers still working in his hair, “Y-yeah. Sounds good.”

Eddie smiled, pleased as he went back to trying to follow the plot. Then he felt something wet hit his cheek. He scrunched his nose up, confused as he shifted to look up at Steve, heart jumping when he realized what was happening. 

“Holy shit, don’t look at me for a minute.” Steve groaned, covering his face with his hands, failing to hide his sniveling, “Seriously, just ignore me.”

Eddie sat up, ignoring Steve’s protests as he pried his hands from his face, “What’s wrong?”

“N-nothing!” Steve insisted, avoiding Eddie’s eyes, “I swear, I don’t know what the hell is wrong with me.”

“Sweetheart, if moving in together is too much to talk about that’s fine-”

“No!” Steve interrupted, voice loud in the small space between them, “I-I mean, that’s not the problem. Of course I want to live with you.”

“I don’t want to pressure you-”

“You’re not,” Steve insisted, grabbing Eddie's hands. He squeezed them, warm and comforting, “Whatever is wrong with me has nothing to do with you, or us. I swear.”

Eddie nodded, even if the worry didn’t fully leave his head. He couldn’t help it, because it just kept happening. Eddie was averaging on making Steve tear up at least once a month and everytime he would insist he was fine. That it wasn’t Eddie’s fault, he was just being a freak. 

It’s not like Eddie minded. In fact he kind of liked comforting him. And it didn’t help that Steve was fucking adorable when he cried. With his scrunched up nose and pretty wet eyes, Eddie was more than happy to be the one to kiss his tears away.  

He just wished he could figure out why it was happening, because despite what Steve said, he knew that he was the cause. It only happened when they were alone together, usually right after Eddie said or did something particularly mushy. He just wanted to know what he was doing wrong. 

It was starting to keep him up at night, and as embarrassing as it was, Eddie was having anxiety nightmares about Steve leaving him for someone who wasn’t making him weep on a semi-regular basis. 

Eddie blinked into the night, waking up from another one of those stupid dreams. He blindly reached over for Steve, his hand hitting the empty mattress with a thud. Eddie groaned, assuming he was in the bathroom, but knowing there was no way he was getting back to sleep without having him next to him. 

Eddie stood, deciding to get some water while he waited for him to come back. He stepped out of his room into the dark hall, cocking his head at the odd scene in front of him. The phone cord was stretched from the kitchen to the bathroom, peeking out through the half cracked door.  

Eddie stopped infront of it, curious as he made out what Steve was whispering through the phone, "Robin, if I cry in front of him one more time I'm going to have to change my name and flee the country."

Eddie snorted behind his hand, quiet enough to not be heard. He leaned in a little closer, fully aware that he should just turn around and not be an eavesdropping dick, but…if he could just find out why Steve kept crying, maybe he could actually do something to stop it. 

"I'm not telling him. I'm lucky I haven't scared him off yet as it is."

Eddie frowned, confused. That didn’t make sense, there was nothing Steve could do to scare him off, not after everything they had been through. Didn’t he know that? 

Steve sighed into the phone, sad and resigned, "I just…I don’t know how much more I can fall in love with him. When he ends it…it's going to fucking kill me."

Eddie could feel his heart stop in his chest. Where the hell did that come from? Sometimes Eddie spent half of his day just day-dreaming about their future, and here Steve was, thinking that he was going to end the best thing that ever happened to him?

"I know, I know. Maybe you're right. I love you too, I'll see you tomorrow."

Eddie backed away from the door, still feeling vaguely ill at what he’d heard. He slipped into bed, pretending to still be asleep when Steve eventually followed. He was back in bed for maybe five seconds before Eddie was reaching for him, tucking him tightly into his arms, like he could cuddle the doubts out of him. 

Eddie could barely sleep that night, mind-racing on what he could do to make Steve realize that he wasn’t going anywhere. It made sense, in the grand scheme of things. Steve’s parents were total shit heads who had no appreciation for the wonderful son they had. The only other person he’d fallen in love with besides Eddie ended up cheating on him, right after drunkenly declaring the fact that she never loved him back. 

And that wasn’t even mentioning his “best friends” who dropped him the second he decided to stop acting like a dick in highschool. Now that he was thinking about it, Eddie was kicking himself for not putting the pieces together sooner. 

Of course Steve would be worried about that. But Eddie wasn’t like them, he’d never be like them. In his head, the only way this relationship was ending was if Steve dumped him, not the other way around. 

If Eddie was extra clingy that morning, Steve didn’t complain. Even if he was making it a bitch for him to get ready for work. Eddie was still draped all over him by the time he was trying to get out the door, laughing at his antics all the while. 

“Someone’s needy today, huh?” Steve chuckled, prying Eddie’s arms away from his neck, “I’ll be back before you know it.”

“That’s not soon enough,” Eddie whined, going as far as to follow him to the car. He kissed him goodbye through the window, not giving a single shit who saw them. Not when it made Steve blush and beam at him. He waved at him as he drove away, a plan already forming in his head as he started his day. 

If Steve had fears, Eddie would just love them right out of him. No reason to make a big deal out of anything, not when Steve was already so embarrassed about the whole thing. He would play it cool, and slowly but surely alleviate all of the anxieties. 

That was the plan, but the plan went straight out the window that same night. Basically the second he laid eyes on him after stepping through the front door. Steve wasn’t even doing anything. Just sitting on the couch, lazily watching TV. But then he noticed him, gave him that bright smile, and the floodgates just opened.

“I love you.” Eddie blurted out, making his way towards him, “Like I really fucking love you.”

Steve cocked his head, confused but still happy to see him. He shuffled over for Eddie to sit next to him, “I love you too?”

Eddie shook his head, “I mean I love everything about you Steve. Everything.” 

Steve stared at him, surprise still painted on his face, but Eddie just kept going, aware on some level, that he probably sounded slightly unhinged, but he didn’t care. He needed Steve to understand, “I love how much you care about everyone. I love how you take care of me, and how you let me take care of you. I love how your hair sticks up in every direction in the morning, and how you get pouty whenever you wake up. I love it when you’re bitchy and you make fun of my music. I love it when you get too excited and scream at the TV over basketball. I love the little blush you get whenever I call you pretty. I love all of it, and I want it for the rest of my life. ”

Steve laughed, quiet and nervous as he looked away, ‘What the hell are you even talking about?”

But Eddie wasn’t having that. He grasped his face, tilting his chin up to force them eye to eye. The tears were already starting to form, but Eddie wasn’t worried. He knew what they meant this time, “I’m talking about how you’re the only person I’ll ever want. I’m talking about how I want a life with you Steve. You and no one else.”

The tears were really falling now, and Steve was looking at him like he ripped his heart out, versus perfusing his undying love, “You…you shouldn’t say shit like that Eddie. You don’t know how things will change later on.”

Eddie shook his head, steadfast, “I’ll never not want you. I’m serious Steve. You’re it for me.”

They stared at eachother, Steve searching his face as Eddie kissed his tear-stained cheeks, “I want to believe you.”

“It’s okay that you don’t yet,” Eddie murmured, “I’ll just spend the rest of my life proving it to you.”

Steve let out a weak laugh, pulling away from his hands to hide his face into the crook of Eddie’s neck, his self-proclaimed safe space, “You promise?”

Eddie kissed the top of his head, “I swear.”

It didn’t happen overnight, but it did happen. Their days together became months, months became years. Eddie never went a day without reminding him how much he was loved, Steve stopped waiting for the day that Eddie was going to leave, and slowly but surely, the tears stopped with it. 

It was ten years to that day, ten amazing years with the love of his life, when Eddie found him in their kitchen, making coffee and yawning while he absentmindely stared out the window, just as adorable at thirty-one as he was at twenty. 

He wrapped his arms around his waist from behind, kissing at his neck with a pleased hum, “You believe me now?”

Steve sighed, sleepy and happy as he leaned back into him, “Yeah, I think I do.”

#steddie ficlet #steddie fic #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #you'll pry my insanely long posts out of my cold dead hands #This got so god damn long wholy shit #steddie brainrot #they got me in their jaws #stranger things #i swear anytime i do eddie pov it becomes a fucking novel #no shade to nancy sincerely #but it did done happen like that

[catharusustulatus]

Steddie Drabble, sequel to this post.

TW: child abuse.

Steve doesn’t have much. Eddie had made them a list of things to grab before they’d headed over to the Harrington house, a list of clothes, toiletries, basics and such, with “shampoo” underlined and “bowling pin” circled. They’d borrowed an extra duffel from Marianne across the way, since they didn’t know if trash bags would be enough, and thank god they had, kid sure had a polo collection. But moving it all out of that place - nice car parked yet nobody home, they found, blood still on the carpet - and seeing it stacked up next to Eddie’s exploding menagerie were two different things. And it just seemed to Wayne, well, when Steve was up for it, maybe they’d go to the thrifty mart together.

Steve is quiet, on account of the pain he felt moving his face and the shyness he had shrunken into, having been quickly and sharply beaten and disowned and then thrust into a new life, a new space. Wayne knew it was different, going from a frequent guest who got to put on the charm to a hurting ball of need. To feel like a burden. He saw the same thing happen to Eddie, when he was a child; he changed from an energetic ragamuffin who’d visit Wayne once every couple months to a sad, angry teen who he had to figure out how to live with. But it had worked out. And seeing how gently Eddie cleans Steve’s bruised face, how he changes his whole schedule to take care of Steve, how he cuts fruit for Steve, hearing Eddie whisper Steve to sleep, he thinks it will work out again.

Wayne learns a lot about Steve over the next couple of weeks. He learns how good a cook Steve is, how good he is at making scrambled eggs, tuna melts. How his hair is a source of pride but also seems to show off how he’s doing, like it’s connected to his mood. Some days it’s sky-high and some days it’s flat until Eddie starts whistling up the walk. Wayne loves watching Steve’s hair puff up, his smile grow, and Eddie seems to do the trick. Wayne learns just about every shirt he has is striped, that he can’t hear that well on his left side, that he likes his toast burnt to a crisp.

One morning, a couple weeks after Steve becomes his second duckling, they’re both up early in the kitchen waiting for Eddie to rise. Steve is making bacon and pork sausage, shuffling the meat around and shuffling himself around, like he’s scared to say something. Finally Wayne says “what is it, son?” And Steve starts to cry, one slow beautiful tear down each cheek. He’s been looking better, lately, seeming brighter, but he’s still been holding his breath. It’s time to exhale.

“Thank you. For saving me,” Steve moves the pan to the back burner, meat cooked, looking away. Wayne turns the stove off, and folds Steve into his arms, chuckling. Steve smells like Eddie. Steve smells like Wayne’s tobacco.

“Ain’t no thing about it, boy,” Wayne whispers to Steve, trembling and clutching the spatula. “You’re safe. You’re family.” And he pulls away before he goes softer himself, coughs, turns the stove back on for Steve’s eggs. A small little smile creeps up on Steve’s lips, still shy but an agreement nonetheless. He’s home, making breakfast for those that love him. And later, they’ll go thrifting, get Steve a thicker winter coat, more kitchen tools, some striped pajamas.

#steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie drabble #steddie ficlet #wayne munson #Wayne and Steve are my fave #eddie sleeps in most mornings and Steve and Wayne make breakfast #steve and wayne talk basketball and baseball and football and the best way to prepare a salmon #they go thrifting and start adding mugs to the collection #they buy Eddie a new amp for Christmas #Steve’s jaw still pops sometimes and he’ll get quiet if noises are too loud and he’s terrified of disappointing them #but he’s getting better #stranger things #steve harrington angst

[chirpsythismorning]

#byler #stranger things #mike wheeler #will byers #st theory #sharks #jaws #‘yeah I mean I never really unpacked’ #queue the #I’m so scared rn you shut up meme #mike: maybe all of this is happening for a reason #also mike: I have no idea what’s going to happen next… #oh… well I’ve got an idea 😅

[where-is-francis]

𝙏𝙪𝙣𝙣𝙚𝙡 𝙊𝙛 𝙇𝙤𝙫�� —♡-> 𝘽𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙃𝙖𝙧𝙜𝙧𝙤𝙫𝙚

Before You Interact — Rules of My Blog

𝙋𝙧𝙤𝙢𝙥𝙩: Part of my Valentine’s Day 2023 blurb series

𝙋𝙧𝙤𝙣𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙨: They/Them — fem/fem aligned DNI, you have plenty of stuff

𝘼/𝙉: I dedicate this to my one and only Shrimp Punch *bows and tips hat* anyways just to make it clear I don’t support Billy’s actions/ideas from S2/S3 in any way, shape, or form — this is more of a “he lived after the accident and decided to try and be a better person” type thing. Which is pretty much the only way I’m willing to write for him.

𝙏𝙒: None!

The sight of 𝘽𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙃𝙖𝙧𝙜𝙧𝙤𝙫𝙚 standing in the arcade used to seem foreign to everybody at one point, but now they didn’t pay much attention to him. You, however, made up for that by giving him a lot of attention. Pretty much anybody who was spending the holiday alone found themselves at the arcade, the only difference with you was that it was your job. Billy had just stomped out his cigarette in the parking lot and nudged the door open, effectively ringing the bell.

You turned from the back counter and leaned over the prize booth, shooting him a wide smile when you saw who it was.

“Well well well, if it isn’t my favorite devil. Where’s your DigDugging sidekick?”

“Had a date with Sinclair. Just me today.” He mirrored your pose against the counter.

It was surprising to see him like this. He was calm and fairly relaxed, but that seemed to become his new normal since the accident. Since he didn’t have to worry about Neil breathing down his neck anymore. Your eyes traced the hanging chain of the necklace he always wore and how it seemed to shine in blues and greens from the lava lamps behind you.

“To be honest, I’m surprised they’re not here trying to kick each other’s asses at skee-ball.”

Billy grinned at that. “Well, there’s always next week. Maybe Sinclair won’t leave with a bruise this time.”

“Ah, young love!” You sighed dreamily. “Speaking of which, c’mere.”

You flipped up the hinged section of the counter and led the blonde through a few loners and over to a new machine. It was dark red, covered in hearts, and had a flashing marquee sign on the top. Above the coin slot and at the height of your hips was a board with two large hand-shaped screens.

“‘Love Tester’? Yeah, looks like a real fun time.” Billy rolled his eyes.

The blue eyed male watched as you grabbed a quarter from the pocket of your work vest and slotted it in the machine. All of the lights came on and scattered a bit to show the main screen of the different ratings you could get. Billy couldn’t so much as think before you grabbed his left hand and forced it down to one of the prints on the board, following by doing the same with your right hand.

He watched, a bit stunned, as the lights climbed up and down at a rapid pace. It went from the bottom, holding the lowest score of ‘harmless’, all the way to the top where it read ‘hot stuff!’ in all caps. It wouldn’t have been a lie to say he liked you and the dynamic you shared, it was different to anything he’d had before. As much as his jokes and comments were biting and flirty, yours were just as much so. Billy had a strong sense of where he stood with most people, but you were unreadable.

The lights on the Love Tester slowed a bit before finally settling on your compatibility score:

The top match — Hot Stuff.

Neither of you said anything and instead just stood in disbelief, with Billy occasionally shifting on the wild and fluorescent carpet. Below the coin slot in a larger horizontal slot, a pink card had been printed out with the results. You grabbed it and began to read it off.

“‘Look out — these two have it all! Fiery hot love connection coming through!’ Oh my God, this is so dumb.” You were increasingly animated.

Without much thought, the blonde scanned the arcade to see if anybody watched what just happened. When no eyes but yours met his gaze, he visibly dropped the tension in his chest. It was new to him to be interested in somebody who wasn’t a girl. Even newer to be close to them. You flipped the small card over and continued to read the description in relative silence before passing it to your ‘perfect match’.

Billy took the card in his hands and smiled. He smiled. Not his usual cocky and taunting grin, but a sweet one, a genuine one. When he looked up, you had already started to maneuver back to the gaudy counter. He watched as you pulled a small box from the cabinet and grabbed a set of keychains. The loop slid over your finger and you waved it at him, silently telling him to come get it.

“So, what’d ya think?” You mused as he braved the counter.

“I think it’s full of shit. Just like someone else in this joint.”

The response earned a laugh. With your back to the blonde, you hurried and pulled the set of keychains apart. Anybody who got the top three rankings on the tacky machine would be rewarded with matching keychains. They were cheap and just as gaudy as the machine itself, but something about them made you grin. Billy was a bit confused when you passed one to him and eyed you suspiciously. It wasn’t anything super elaborate, just a black background with the two words printed in a flame font on both sides, but you still thought it was worthy of being added to the set of work keys you inherited.

“What? Anybody who gets one of the top three gets matching keychains if they bring the card up.” Your tone was ever so sweet.

His blue eyes avoided contact with your own as you watched him debate on grabbing the small piece of plastic. This territory was entirely new, foreign even, to Hargrove — a strange but welcome one. Meanwhile, any mask he used to have was gone for a mere moment. He could simply exist.

He picked up the keychain and gave it a once over.

“Nothing says ‘true love’ like a cheap piece of plastic.” Billy couldn’t help but smile.

“You’re such a romantic, you know that?”

After getting what he came for, and a bit more, he decided to leave and make the short trip back to the parking lot. The bell chimed but you stopped him before he could leave, passing the score card back to him. His dark brows furrowed in confusion before you turned it around, rolling your eyes, to reveal your phone number on the back.

“I get off at 6. You pick me up and we can go out, do whatever you like, hot stuff.” You grinned at him with your tongue caught between your teeth.

He couldn’t say much except give a small grunt and nod of approval — which certainly was boosting your ego — and you let him go once again. Billy jumped inside the Camaro and grinned down at the number on the card while simultaneously trying to think of something fun to do in the evening. The stupid keychain caught his attention for a moment, before he decidedly settled it on the small ring with his car keys.

You were going to be the death of him — and you were going to enjoy every minute.

Reblogs instead of likes. Reblogs help other people find my works. Comments and tags very much appreciated. 💕 More male and enby reader fics on my blog.

#x male reader #stranger things x male reader #x gender neutral reader #stranger things x gender neutral reader #billy hargrove x male reader #billy hargrove x gender neutral reader #jaws stranger things

[38across]

Molly's Game (2017) Stranger Things — Coming Soon: The Starcourt Mall! (2018) Spree (2020) Death to 2020 (2020) Free Guy (2021) Death to 2021 (2021) Djo — (928)-8-DECIDE (2022)

joe keery characters + i want your video.mp3 🎥

#joe keery #molly's game #stranger things #steve harrington #spree #kurt kunkle #death to 2020 #death to 2021 #free guy #walter keys mckey #djo #super late birthday gifset for him... mwah #joe keery characters on video. in case i was not clear. #if i think abt the underside of his jaw too much... 💥 #38*

[changebydjo]

STRANGER THINGS Chapter Seven: The Bathtub

#stranger things #strangerthingsedit #stedit #dailyflicks #tvedit #userbbelcher #userbru #tuserdee #usermorgan #usergal #userlauraj #useraurore #steve's jaw clenching in the fourth gif...i am unwell #*

[momotonescreaming]

We know that Steve thinks his Dad is an asshole, but he doesn’t really mention his mother other than a few off hand comments. She goes on his Dad’s business trips because she doesn’t trust him not to cheat, she’s well respected in Hawkins, and Steve used her as a reference when he applied for the job at Family Video. So I got to thinking about what if she was a good person also trapped under the pressure of Mr Harrington, just like Steve? What if Steve had a good relationship with her? And this happened

Mrs Harrington who loved her husband once, who had a husband who loved her back. She loved his ambition, his drive, his dedication. She didn’t love it when it started to turn into him spending all hours at the office, at business meetings. When it started to turn into something money hungry. But it was his job. He knew best. Right?

Mrs Harrington has a baby because she wants one. She’s always wanted to be a mother. Mr Harrington has a kid because it’s What You Do. You have a kid so they can take over your company, carry on your family legacy. Uphold the Harrington name. His reputation. A nanny can raise them when they’re little. When they're older they can follow in his footsteps. Popular, likes cars, plays basketball.

Mrs Harrington raises little Steve as much as she can. He’s a little Mama’s boy. She’ll go to the salon to get her hair done and Steve sits in the chair next to hers, driving his toy cars up and down the seat. Steve drags her outside so he can show her this “Really cool swimming trick, Mama!” and she watches him happily from the porch seats, commenting that he swims so well is he sure he’s not part fish? He’ll watch her put her make up on and get ready for a Charity Gala she’s organising. He tells her she’s beautiful, Mama and she’ll run one of her big fluffy make up brushes across his cheeks so he can be beautiful too.

Steve gets older and Mr Harrington takes over in shaping Steve’s life. He’s a man now. A Harrington. Mrs Harrington isn’t quite sure what to do. She thinks her husband might be a bit harsh but he was a teenage boy once, he must know what’s best for him. Right? He’s the man of the family. The head of the household and what he says goes. She isn’t so sure now, but it’s what her father always taught her. It’s what she always learnt in Church. She fawns under his harsh gaze and feels the guilt churning in her gut as she doesn’t know what to do. Steve starts pulling away from her, and her husband keeps flirting with his young secretaries.

It comes to a head in Steve’s senior year when she’s with her husband on a business trip in New York. Her husband’s secretary gets a call that Steve’s in the hospital after getting into a fight with another student - Billy Hargrove. Her husband brushes it off as ‘Boys will be boys’. A Harrington shouldn’t have lost. Maybe this will teach him about consequences. Did he even think about what this could have done to their reputation? He doesn’t tell his wife.

Mrs Harrington is the only one in their hotel room when the secretary calls again with an update from the hospital. She finds out that he knew that their only son was in the hospital and didn’t tell her. It’s the last straw. Her husband comes back to the hotel room smelling of expensive liquor and someone else’s perfume. They get into a screaming match and she packs her bags and calls a taxi. She calls the hospital from the airport that she’s on her way.

She gets the first plane she can and rushes straight to the hospital. The nurse at the reception desk tells her what room he’s in and she tears up as soon as she sees Steve.

“Oh my baby. I’m so sorry.”

Steve locks eyes with her and his eyes water. “Hi Mama.” His voice is quiet.

She rushes over to hug him and his teary eyes turn into violent sobs, her whispering comforting nothings to her baby boy as he cries. She came as soon as she heard, she’s so sorry, he’s okay now. She doesn’t tell him yet that she wasn’t there earlier because her husband didn’t tell her. Her wedding ring feels heavy on her finger.

When Steve is recovering at home, asleep in the other room, she rings a divorce lawyer.

#Steve Harrington #Steve Harrington's parents #Stranger things #Stranger things ficlet #st #my writing #i'm having steve family feels today #idk i just love the idea of mamas boy steve #i imagine his mum looks a lot like him #with a sharp jaw and sharper cheekbones #voluminous brown hair that falls down in perfect waves

[avalonlights]

#max mayfield #billy hargrove #stranger things #dear billy #harringrove #stranger things fanart #had to draw this for all of us #y'know? #avalonlights art #my posts #this is the first thing i've been able to finish post jaw surgery #pardon any wonkiness my face is still too swollen for wearing glasses :(

[ratatattouille]

some finn wolfhard for your dash. his features and my art style are trying to get to know each other better lmao. can't wait to show you the designs i have for him for the ostinatoverse

#sst au #byler #stranger things #the ostinato #to #mike wheeler #finn wolfhard #this guy's jaw can level buildings and he's barely into adulthood lmao