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fiori7ura · 18 days

Text

“make him pay.”

words — 587 | rating — teen & up

★ warnings: none!

based on the prompt sentence, “If you die, I’m gonna kill you,” by @writinginstardust, which you can find here

—

They're standing outside of the Munson's trailer, huddled in a group. Robin, Nancy, and Steve on one side, facing Eddie and Dustin. Thunder rolls in the atmosphere around them, and it's their final destination before they go to try and kill Vecna.

The air is musky and stinks like nasty ass mildew, it's fucking freezing, Steve can't feel his goddamn fingers, and now, he has to say goodbye to Eddie and Dustin and turn his back. Be the strong man, the big man, and walk away.

It's hard to do.

Steve makes sure to put his best into the little speech he prepared to Robin before all of this.

"Don't try and be cute, or be a hero, or something," he huffs, looking at Eddie. "You guys are just—decoys."

Dustin nods along with Steve while he's talking, and Steve imagines that's just like how he does when he's in class. He loves that kid with every bone in his body.

Eddie smiles weakly, his dimples not popping like they normally do. His smile doesn't meet his eyes, and Steve's chest aches in a bad way.

Steve goes to turn away as he gives Eddie and Dustin one last look, but he hears Eddie's voice ring out behind him and gives into the weakness crawling up the knobs of his spine.

"Hey, Steve?"

Eddie's eyes are squinted, his head is tilted ever-so-slightly, and there's a determined set to his jaw.

He looks down, eyes darting around, facing towards the hard dirt ground, avoiding eye contact with Steve. Then he glances back up, weary as ever.

"Make him pay," Eddie mutters out, and the mask he always wears to hide how he feels is now withering away. Steve can see it in his face.

Steve nods, goes to walk away, then pauses. Stands there for a second, maybe a minute, weighing his choices, and decides, fuck it.

He heads straight toward Eddie, grabs the open sides of his jacket, and pulls him close, pressing his mouth to Eddie's.

"If you die, I’m gonna kill you, Munson," Steve mumbles against his lips, hot breath passed between them in their small shared space.

Eddie cups his face delicately, like Steve will break if he's not too careful with him, and nods. "I promise, you'll see me after this, Stevie. You can hate me for as long as you live if I don't come back."

Steve pulls away, nudges his nose against Eddie's, and grins. "As if I could ever hate you, Eds."

Eddie chuckles, and his eyes crinkle, and those devistatingly cute dimples pop out, and Steve feels so giddy inside.

Robin clears his throat behind him, and Steve gives him a knowing smile, playfully rolling his eyes.

"Guess that's my cue. I'll see you soon, Eddie."

Eddie pulls his grimy hands away from Steve's face, and gives him one last peck, soft and sweet.

"See you."

Steve nods, and Eddie nods back, winking, and his smile is still present on his beautiful face.

When they see each other again, Steve wraps Eddie in the biggest hug, spinning him around in circles all while kissing him as long as he can.

They made it out alive, Eddie's safe and unscathed, and Steve can't believe his luck. Maybe the universe isn't so cruel.

"You kept your promise, huh, baby?"

Eddie smiles so widely Steve feels like he might already be falling in love. "'Course I did, sweetheart."

His southern twang comes through while speaking, and Steve kisses him again.

And again, and again, and again.

—

pinterest is here

ao3 is here

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fiori7ura · 20 days

Text

“sunshine skin.”

words — 1,288 | rating — teen & up

★ warnings: recreational drug usage, coming out, mild language

—

They're smoking at Eddie's trailer when Eddie slips up and says something, something stupid.

"Man," he starts, blowing out smoke, the piercings in his lips looking shiny and sharp. "You're like, glowing. You have some natural beauty thing going on, dude."

He passes the blunt to Steve mid sentence, who takes a hit then chokes on smoke, laughing so hard tears spring into the corners of his eyes.

"What?"

Steve can hardly form words, he's holding his stomach and taking these big, gulping breaths, head tossed back in hysteria.

Eddie smiles, his infuriatingly cute dimples popping, making his smile so much prettier. "It's jus' the truth, Stevie-baby.

He controls himself, stubbing out the blunt, trying to stop laughing before he begins to try and say something again.

"You're gonna have to elaborate on me glowing, Eds. Reminder, I'm stoned out of my mind, everything is funny and hazy to me."

It's true, Steve is feeling very floaty, head all high in the clouds. He gets like this when they smoke, ending the night clinging to Eddie. He gets clingy when he smokes, clingier than when sober.

"I don't know. You're just so," Eddie gestures with his hands, splayed out and flinging around, signaling something Steve can't make out.

"Eddie."

His head snaps up and Steve can see how squinty and red-rimmed his eyes are. He looks funny. Steve giggles to himself.

"Yeah?"

"What does that mean? Just speak, man."

Eddie sighs, flopping off of the bed and throwing his body into the beanbag chair beside his dresser.

Drama queen, Steve thinks.

"Fine," he whines, licking his lips as a sign he's starting to try and elaborate on his dumbass sentence.

"It's like you have sunshine always reflecting off of your skin. Or, maybe inside of your skin. Sunshine skin," Eddie muses, giggling. "When you smile, I swear, it's so bright. It blinds me, Stevie. You're just so happy and glowy, almost like a golden retriever."

Steve blushes, feeling bashful. "Yeah?"

Eddie nods. "Yeah. M'gonna start calling you that. Sunshine. Fits you well."

"Oh," he breathes.

Eddie then stares at him, dreamy expression on his lips, eyes sparkling like he's looking up at the stars in the night sky.

Robin's voice is nagging him in the back of his mind, now. He likes you, Dingus. Just pay attention to the way he looks at you and all those disgusting pet names he calls you. He's infatuated with you.

"Eds?"

Steve blinks up at the ceiling, puzzle pieces clicking into place. He has to admit, Robin's always right.

"Hm."

Suddenly, the room is too hot, the trailer is too small, Steve's head is loud and he doesn't know what to say, exactly. What if he's wrong?

No, he can't be. Right?

Right.

"Is it true, that you're—y'know... queer?"

Silence stretches on between them in the hazy air of Eddie's bedroom, those four walls surrounding them listening into every word, every breath, every telltale sign of something unsaid.

"...Yeah."

Steve has to look down from where he's lost looking at the cracks in the roof, and puts his sight on Eddie, trying to be soft, trying to show he isn't a harm, and that Eddie himself isn't a harm either.

"That's nice. To personally know someone else out there who's like me in this town. Other than Robin, of course."

Eddie does his Head Tilt, the one he does when calculating someone, when he's having a whole conversation between himself in that beautiful mind of his. It irks Steve out, that he doesn't know what Eddie's thinking. They're best friends, he feels like he should know what Eddie's thinking, too.

"Cool. That's cool. Two queers who found each other."

Steve doesn't know what else to say, their conversation growing stale and awkward. He just whispers out a small "yeah." and fiddles with his hands, resting them over his sweater-covered stomach.

The empty pit growing in Steve's stomach gets too big, too much, too guilty. He decides to get the topic out and speak what's on his mind so the situation doesn't get any worse.

Steve cocks his mouth at a certain angle and sighs, head falling back against Eddie's pillows. "You know I like you, right, Eddie?"

"...No. But—wait. You like me?"

Steve can tell that Eddie didn't fully process his sentence until seconds later after it came out of his mouth. "Yeah. I just said that. In more than a friend way, I like you. If that's clear enough."

"Cool," Eddie repeats, same tone in his voice from when Steve told him he was queer. "I mean—shit. Sorry, this weed is really fucking me up right now, man. I like you, too."

"You do?"

Eddie nods, tongue tracing the seam of his lips. "I've been obsessed with you for, like, years, Sunshine. Ever since I laid eyes on you in the hallways."

"Holy shit."

Eddie scratches his head and leans up on his elbows. "Sorry. Is that weird? I just, thought, y'know, that if we both like each other, me being obsessed with you wouldn't be weird."

Steve shoots up from his spot on Eddie's bed and throws his hands up. "No! No, It's not weird. I think it's kinda sweet. That you've liked me for this long."

Eddie makes a questioning sound and grins lazily.

"Does that mean I can kiss you now?"

Hell, yeah.

"Yes. Please."

Eddie gets up from his spot on the bead-filled beanbag chair and makes his way across the room, planting himself right in front of Steve.

They're so close that Steve can see his freckles and the miniscule specks of red-ish brown in his eyes. Eddie gets closer, their noses touching, before he leans in and presses his lips so softly and sweetly to Steve's that he thinks he might start to cry.

He's never felt like this before. He feels loved, appreciated, cherished. With Nancy, the feeling he had in his chest didn't even come close. It wasn't this strong, pulling Steve under until he's drowning and gasping for more all at once.

Their foreheads are pressed together, and one of them is making these little noises, whimpering almost. Steve guesses it's himself doing it, because he's on cloud nine while kissing the man he's been in love with for a year.

Steve has to pull back to catch his breath, and slowly, he opens his eyes, grinning at Eddie like a mad-man. He could die happily while kissing Eddie and not be mad.

Then Eddie smiles back, and he's so fucking beautiful Steve's heart flutters pathetically in his chest. He feels like he's dying and living, in Eddie's shitty trailer park room.

Eddie's the kind of beautiful that rots Steve from inside and out. Steve's not exaggerating, he's seen the type of beauty in Hollywood and in magazines, but there's something special about Eddie that makes him so gorgeous that Steve wants to sink and drown. His smile by itself makes him so weak he feels like collapsing onto the floor when he sees it. Maybe he's a little loony in love, but he's okay with it.

He's content. He's sleepy. He's happy.

He's in love.

Steve pulls Eddie in for another kiss, hand on the back of his neck, and they laugh together. Steve's chest won't stop hurting.

"I love you."

He didn't mean to say it, it just slipped out, tumbling against Eddie's lips and into the air between their mouths. Eddie doesn't freeze or push Steve away, he just kisses him harder, saying all he needs to with his actions.

"I love you, too, Sunshine."

He really does owe Robin a kiss on the cheek and a bouquet of flowers for being right.

—

ao3 account here

pinterest is here

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fiori7ura · 20 days

Text

anyways

not that anyone cares, but hi, i'm alive, xo

my current obsessions are yellowjackets, steddie (like that's ever going away...), and taylor swift, if i ever post in these next few weeks, it'll be about those things or a fic i've posted on ao3

you can see my account on pinterest, @fiori7ura, or on ao3, @elysi2n.

#shitpost #i am alive #yellowjackets is my new obsession #ignore this #off topic #random

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fiori7ura · 2 months

Text

but strangely, he feels at home in this place

TW: body dysphoria, self-doubt, mentions of panic attacks & death, fear, depression-ish, trans max & steve, don't like, don't read.

(modern au, no upside down, max uses she/her but it changes halfway through, steve is also trans, max & steve have a brotherly bond — author is afab but on the transgender spectrum and goes through body dysphoria and confusion all the time)

→ i've been writing this on ao3, it isn't posted yet because it isn't finished, but i wanted to post what i already have on here :) it's all rough draft, so expect for there to be grammar mistakes or things nto worded correctly. there are italics galore in this, but i copy & pasted it from ao3 so it deleted the layout it was in, and my phone makes everything lag when i try and do italics on here, so, yeah, no italics, just imagine them in parts when needed lmao — read tags & warnings, thx!!

title from 'this is home' by cavetown!!

——— ★ ———

Yeah, you could say that Max never fully fit in with girls her age. She skated, hung around guys, scuffed her shoes with dirt and mud, crude sayings and drawings scribbled with black sharpie and in messy handwriting on the toes of her sneakers she got from Goodwill.

Her life was good for a while, until it wasn't. She woke up one day with panic and realization coursing through her veins, crying until her lungs gave out and she hyperventilated, screaming into her pillow.

Panic attack, Max's brain supplies from the old memory of her lessons with her school counselor, Mrs. Kelley.

Small things trigger them, and ever since Billy passed in the mall fire, they happen more than ever. Max wishes she could go back to that summer, when there were no worries in the world, before Billy died, before she and her Mom had to move into a crappy trailer park across from the Munsons.

The bad thoughts cloud Max's mind again, and she shakes her head like a wet dog coming in from the rain.

She gets up and throws on basketball shorts that come down to her knees and a threadbare, gray Hawkins Tigers shirt that she stole from Steve, her tightest, most concealing bra she owns strapped on underneath. Max shoves her hair in a haphazard low bun, taking a quick glance in the mirror, not even bothering to look for too long. Staring into her reflection is bad. It makes Max notice all the impurities and small problems about herself that makes her want to shatter the glass, break it into little pieces on the carpet below her.

Max prays that one day, she could just sink into the floor and disappear. Maybe then, things would be easier. She wouldn't have to worry about her impending doom of her crush on El and the dark thoughts that flood her mind daily, time and time again.

Max steps outside of her trailer, spotting Steve's car parked over at Eddie's. He's sitting on the porch steps, cigarette in his hand, smoke stirring out of his mouth.

She wishes to be like Steve. Wants it. Hopes for it. In her mind, he's selfless and resilient. He came out to everyone without a single trace of doubt, and everyone supported him when he said he didn't feel like a girl. That was three years ago. Max was only 12. She's now 15, drowning in her sorrows and regret.

She stumbles over the gravel that lines the ground, feet carrying her to cross the distance between the two trailers. Steve looks up from his crisp, white Nike Cortez shoes, a smile lighting his whole face up when he sees Max.

"You know those things'll kill you, right?"

Steve snorts, tilting his head like a dog. "Hello to you, too, Max. You sound like Rob, you know that?"

Max just scoffs, the smile on her face betraying the way she's trying to act. "Whatever you say, Mom. I'm not taking the blame from Dustin when you die from smoking on those cancer sticks."

"Sure," Steve says behind a smirk as he puts out his cigarette and dusts his hands off on his jeans, imaginary dirt spreading around the air. "If you're asking for a ride, just know that I'm about to be leaving. Just let me tell Eddie bye, 'kay?"

"Okay," Max echoes, laughing. "Go get your boyfriend!" She yells when Steve turns around to go inside, mimicking kissing and hugging, wrapping her hands around herself and making obnoxious smooching noises. Steve flips her off behind his back. She can almost hear the faint mumble of smart ass kid come from his mouth, which causes her to laugh even harder, head lolling back on a cackle.

——— ★ ———

They're halfway through the drive back to Steve's house when Max breaks the silence, Stevie Nicks playing low on the radio, music drifting through the speakers of his Beamer. "Could I, uh, ask you something? You gotta promise not to say anything about this conversation, because if you do, I'll blackmail you and send Eddie all the embarrassing photos of you from when you worked at Scoops."

Steve whips his head to look at Max, almost surprised look on his face as he lets out a disbelieving laugh, airy and light.

"Okay, kiddo. Shoot."

Her feet are propped up on the dash, and her pulse is rabbiting. "How did you know?"

Steve raises a questionable eyebrow towards her direction, nose wrinkling. "What d'you mean, 'know'?"

Shit, shit, shit.

"No, nevermind, actually. It's stupid," Max sighs. "It's stupid," she repeats, again and again, flipping the word around on her tongue.

"Hey, no, don't just dodge my question like that, Mayfield. Be honest. I doubt it's as stupid as you actually say it is. Spill your guts, c'mon. Like you do at those girly sleepovers of yours."

And, oh.

Girly sleepovers.

Max doesn't like that. Bile swirls in her stomach and she digs her nails into her palm, leaving crescent moons in her skin's wake, jaw clenching and teeth grinding down against each other.

Steve clearly notices he did something wrong, because he quickly pulls into his driveway and puts the car in park, unbuckling to turn and look at Max.

"What's wrong, firecracker? Tell me, please. It won't hurt to just say what's on your mind."

Max shakes her head, eyes downcast and frown placed onto her face. "When did you know you didn't want to be a girl?" Max whispers, voice small and weak sounding, even to her own ears.

Steve grabs Max's hand and holds it oh-so-gently, the angel he is.

"I always subconsciously knew when I was younger, I guess? I never wanted to wear dresses or look pretty. I wanted to feel like a boy. I always got mad when my teachers would split the class into girls and boys. I would try to go with the guys, and my teachers would usher me back into the girls side, telling me that I'm a girl, not a boy. Kids would laugh and point at me for it,"

Steve pauses, getting teary eyed.

"And I didn't fully recognize how I felt inside until after I met Robin and everybody else. I got assured that it was normal to feel like this, so then I recognized how to love myself and my body. I understood that I was a boy, that I am a boy, and I should be proud of who I am."

Max lets out a wet laugh, tears threatening to spill over and around her eyelids.

"I don't think I'm a girl, y'know, at all."

Max looks at Steve through glimmering eyes, and he pulls her into a hug, squeezing her, comfort washing over her body like a cold shower. "I'm so proud of you, Red. So, so proud. I love you, so much."

That's when the tears really start to flow. Max hugs Steve right back, laughing with hurt and love and peace and too many emotions that flood his body.

"You're the best brother I could've asked for, Steve."

They stay like that for minutes on end, time drifting together; Steve rocking Max back and forth in his arms, tears from Max staining his polo shirt.

Steve pulls back first, still holding Max's hand. "And you're the best brother I could've asked for. You're a boy, don't doubt that, Max."

Max wipes at his eyes. "Did I ever mention how much I love you, Steven Belinda Harrington?"

Steve sputters with laughter, letting go of Max's hand. "Belinda? That's the best you could come up, Mayfield? I thought I was the best brother you've ever had?"

"I'll take it back, Belinda, trust me, don't think I won't," Max laughs, punching at Steve's shoulder, not a touch of violence or hate behind it.

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