#steve and erica

[thisapplepielife]

Written for a @astrangersummer.

Just The Facts

Week #14 Prompt: "Can you hear me?" | Word Count: 813 | Rating: T | POV: Erica | Characters: Erica, Steve | CW: Language, Minor Allusions to Period-Typical Microaggressions | Tags: S4 "The Piggyback" Missing Scene, Scoops Troop Forever

Erica runs.

She hurries, just like Lucas asked. 

Her knee hurts, her back, her ankle. 

She feels sprung, in a way she never has before. Not crawling through the ductwork of the mall. Not in the elevator, surging down, down, down. That had been an adventure. 

Scoops Troop, solving the mystery. Taking down the big bad. 

It had been fun.

This isn't fun.

Not anymore. 

She barrels down the staircase, and out the front door, and straight across the street to the run-down park. She picks up her abandoned walkie, and presses the button down, holding it tight.

"Can you hear me? Code red. Code red! Over," she says, letting up on the button. And there's no response, just static. "Dustin?"

"Robin?"

"Steve?"

"Anyone?"

There's no one, "Code red. I need an ambulance. Hang on. I'm going for help."

And she runs down the street. Runs to the nearest house on the block that has any lights on, and bangs on the door. When it opens, she holds up her hands. Just the facts. That's all she needs to give.

"I'm Erica Sinclair. I live on Maple. My brother's hurt, and we need an ambulance."

Erica is running up the sidewalk when she sees it, the house ripping apart and she stutters, stopping, waiting to see where she'll be able to go from here. 

She's not even sure she can get back in the house. Not sure if there's anything left to get back to, not in there. Not now.

Lucas. Max.

She called for help. 

Lucas told her to, and she did.

Sirens are wailing in the distance, but she can't be sure if they're headed her way or not. Not now. There's a jagged line ripped through the earth, and the damage must be bad. Really, bad. All over.

Erica wants to go home. She wants her mom. She wants her dad. She wants Lucas.

Right now, she has none of those things.

So, she sits on the grass, and holds her leg. It hurts in several places, and she's scared. She won't cry, though. She won't.

And she doesn't cry, and she's proud of herself as she finally hears a car coming up the street, moving fast, and she hopes it's the ambulance.

It's not. 

But it might be better.

"What happened?" Steve screams as soon as his head pops up out of the car, then he's barreling towards her from down the road, where'd he'd parked as close as he could get to the falling apart house.

"I got tackled!" she screams, and she doesn't know why. That's not important. Max is hurt. Lucas too, probably.

Her stupid knee doesn't matter.

"By who?!" Steve screams back, falling to his knees, face twisted into a grimace as he hits the ground, sitting back on his haunches. "How hurt are you?" he asks, his hands touching her arms, her face, looking over her.

She thinks maybe she should ask him the same thing.

"I don't know. Some basketball goon. I'm okay. Max. Max is upstairs. With Lucas. It happened," she says, and Steve looks up. 

"Shit," he says.

"My thoughts exactly," she echoes.

The ambulance finally pulls up behind Steve's car, and Steve takes over, making her sit there, demanding that she not move. 

For once, she listens.

The ambulance takes Max, and Lucas crawls in with her after a small argument, but Steve vouches for him, and they seem to take his word when they wouldn't believe Lucas saying the same, exact thing.

She wants to think it's because Steve's older, because he's a Harrington, but she knows that's not all of the whole story, and she pushes it out of her mind. She got help. She did what Lucas asked her to do, and Steve's here now.

She doesn't have Lucas, or her mom or dad. But she has Steve.

And Steve's moving as if he's gonna pick her up, holding out his hands, like he expects her to be lifted onto his hip. Like she's a baby.

"What do you think you're doing, nerd?" she asks, but there's no heat, not tonight, "I'm eleven, not five."

Steve laughs, "Of course you are. Piggyback?"

Well, her body does hurt from being tackled by an overgrown horse's ass of a basketball player.

She nods, and Steve squats, letting her climb up. He moves stiffly, and winces as she wraps her legs around his sides, and she thinks maybe she should have declined his offer, just to keep from hurting him worse than he clearly already is.

"I'm eleven," she says softly, more to herself than him.

"I know you are, and none of this was cool," he says, hoisting her higher onto his back.

And that's what does it. It's embarrassing, and she couldn't explain it if she tried, but she buries her face in Steve's back, and finally cries.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @astrangersummer and follow along with the fun!

[stobinesque]

For microfic: Steve & Lucas bonding (maybe a lil Erica too?) and your word is ‘imply’ 💗

oh no, I got all up in my Lucas feels 😭

prompt: 'imply' | wc: 250 | rating: G | tags: banter, basketball | Steve & Sinclair Sibs

"Are you implying I'm not cool, Sinclair?"

"He might be," Erica called from the stands. "But I'm not. I'm stating it outright: you're not cool, Steve!”

"Thanks, little Sinclair."

"Don't call me that, asshole!”

"Can you stop antagonizing her," Lucas asked, arms crossed over his chest.

Steve threw his arms in the air. "I'm antagonizing her?"

"Well what am I supposed to do, tell her to stop antagonizing people?”

"Fair point." Steve gestured to Lucas, indicating he pass the basketball. "Okay, if you're not going to take my advice to avoid the basketball team, then let me at least make sure your form is up to par."

"Isn't par a golf thing?"

"The nerd does know sports things!”

"Hey, I know basketball!"

"Funny, I've never heard you bring it up before now."

"Because he gets embarrassed that his little friends aren't gonna like him anymore if he becomes a jock."

Steve squinted. "Is that true?”

"No.” Lucas glared at Erica. "I just…it's not something they care about, so I don't bring it up."

"Oh. That's dumb."

"What?"

"What's the point of being friends if you don't talk about the stuff you like?”

"We talk about science and D&D all the time!"

"Yeah, but that’s stuff they like too. What about like—? Will’s art. D’you listen to him talk about that?"

"I mean, yeah…”

"And Max’s skateboarding? You listen to her talk about that?"

“Of course!”

“So are you the only person who doesn't talk about your interests?”

Oh.

I’m celebrating 250 followers with 250 word microfics! Requests are closed, but previous fills can be found here.

[morganbritton132]

I don’t think anybody has ever explained the Upside Down to Steve so he came up with his own explanations for what happens and then spreads that misinformation around to the new members of The Party.

Like, turns out Eddie didn’t die and Steve’s just like, “Yeah, that happens. Will died and came back. Hopper…Dustin’s cat. Only seems to work with guys though. The girls never come back.”

Robin, who knows this too, “The Upside Down is sexist.”

“Yeah, exactly.”

[lee-da-vinci]

obsessed with the idea of eddie and erika having beef, solely due to steve. like maybe eddie has a habit of including steve-esque npcs in hellfire campaigns. erica while young is smart and it doesn’t take long for her to recognize the pattern of the npcs and she is not impressed ™. she doesn’t quite know what eddie is doing and why (it’s some unholy combination of loathing and infatuation most likely) but that’s HER, she actually doesn’t really know how to categorize him but Steve is hers and is one of the only people she listens to while minimal complaints (she might even respect him and robin a tiny bit, unlike dustin, she has long since realized exactly what Steve and Robin did for them in that base, if her parents were that grateful to the two dumbasses for “saving them from a fire” she can’t imagine what they’d do if they knew exactly how much steve has done for the family over the years). Regardless, no raggedy, hyper-active metal head while be fucking with steve on her watch and so starts erica repeatedly calling eddie out on any and everything and eddie, digging his feet in and refusing to give up his mechanism for coping with gay yearning, willingly enters a beef with a child.

[hairmetal666]

No one knows who writes the Hawkins High Tattler. It comes out every week, without fail, has for almost two decades. Everyone reads it, even teachers, even parents. It's caused more the one suspension, grounding, and even--famously--a shipping off to boarding school.

Steve's never let the Tattler get to him much. He's in it, of course, practically a new story every week. But it's just silly gossip.

Of course, Steve is also, currently, the titular Tattler, so. It's not like he's surprised when his name shows up.

It's his third year, his last year, and he knows everything that ever goes on at Hawkins High. It's pretty easy, honestly. Everyone thinks he's ditzy and vapid; nothing more than hairspray and polos. People will say anything around him, assuming he's not listening or not interested, and then bam. It's in next week's Tattler. No one even suspects him.

The confessions locker probably helps. Down by the theater, busted and unusable, the perfect place for people to leave tips, to tattle on their friends (or enemies, as the case may be).

That's what he's doing right now, checking the confessions locker. After 9:30 on a Friday night, the place silent as the tomb, perfect time for it. Pretty standard fare this week. The only thing of interest is that Eddie Munson was the person who broke all Ms. Click's pencils and left the stubs on her desk. This one, he laughs at, can't wait to publish it; can't wait to talk to Munson about it.

He gets a lot of stuff about Eddie. Most of it he doesn't publish because it's bullshit about satanic rituals--the nerdy kids he babysits play dnd, and there's no way Karen Wheeler is letting anything satanic happen in her basement--or about his sexuality, and one thing Steve doesn't do is out people.

Gathering up this week's submissions, he closes the locker with a soft clink, and he swears, swears he hears the squeak of a tennis shoe on the polished tile of the floor. He freezes, heart in his throat. Nobody has been here this late before.

Seconds pass but there's only silence. Confident he's only hearing things, he heads out, the parking lot just as empty as when he arrived.

---

He sees Eddie a few days later, when he's picking up the kids from the arcade. They typically exchange casual greetings, but as Steve waits, Eddie stands with him, offers him a cigarette.

"Read that was you who messed with Click's pencils. Good one."

Eddie shrugs, gives a little bow and a smile. "Happy to be of service."

"It was my class, when she found them. Never seen her so mad."

"No way," Eddie laughs. "Not even when Hagan drew dicks on all the textbooks?"

"Not even then, man. She was throwing pencil stubs everywhere."

"Fuck, sad I missed it." Eddie takes a drag, Steve's eyes following the movement, lingering on his mouth. Something warm and tingling builds at the base of his spine and he forces his gaze away.

"How long you in detention for?"

"I'm not. Swore it wasn't me, and Click doesn't want to admit she reads the Tattler, so. Not much they could do. "

"I've seen it sitting on her desk!"

"I know! She reads it when she has detention duty!"

They lean against Steve's car, laughing, and Steve feels good. This is good. He likes Eddie. He's funny and dramatic and smart and kind. He's not deserving of any of the mean things that get submitted to the Tattler.

The kids come streaming into the parking lot then, and Eddie stubs out his cigarette, says "see you around, Harrington," and Steve finds himself flushing for reasons he can't quite explain.

---

He starts seeing Eddie around way more. He's in school most days, smoking in the parking lot after the last bell, chatting with Steve in the hallways.

It shows up in the Tattler; big news that the King and the Freak are hanging out. Most of the submissions are about it, increasingly elaborate rumors about their supposedly deep, close friendship.

He wishes he could tell Eddie.

Eventually, Eddie invites him to smoke at the quarry. He doesn't hesitate to say yes, doesn't even bother to try ignoring the swoop in his stomach, the speed of his heart.

They sprawl out in the back of the van, Eddie's loud, raucous music pounding around them, sharing a joint back and forth.

Steve gets hazy, boneless, can't stop watching Eddie, the way his lips purse around the joint, his long hair glinting gold in the weak light of the camping lanterns, the pleased shine of his eyes every time he makes Steve laughs.

He likes Eddie so much. Everything about him, honestly. Butterflies ping in his stomach, happy and slow, and he thinks how nice Eddie's lips are, wonders how soft they must be. And he thinks--he's read the submissions, right--he knows the things they say about Eddie, and he wishes it was true, he wants--he wants--

He wants

---

Steve's running late to check the locker. Lost track of time at the diner with Eddie, and it's making him panic.

He stuffs the submissions haphazardly into the pocket of his hoodie, dancing with nerves, willing himself to grab them all and get out.

Locker emptied, he sprints towards the exit. He has a second to process someone barreling towards him in the dark, but he's going too fast to stop, can only brace himself as they collide.

It sends him sliding across the floor, Tattler submissions spilling out of his pocket like snow. He hits the ground, scrabbling for the papers, praying that whoever is here with him can't see them in the low light.

Hands grips his biceps. "Stevie, Steve, we have to get out of here" and there's a second where he's comforted by the familiar rasp of Eddie's voice before terror spikes again.

He pulls himself from Eddie's grasp, searching for any dropped submissions in easy reach. "Wha--why--what's--"

"I ran into Jason Carver and his band of idiots at the gas station. They're on their way to here to try to catch the Tattler in action."

Steve freezes. "I don't--that's not--I--"

In the deep silence of the empty school, they both hear the slamming of a door, a bitten off giggle. Eddie grabs his wrist and they run. Into the theater room, through a door Steve didn't know existed, to the backstage area of the auditorium.

"You should be safe here," Eddie says.

Panic spirals through him. "I can explain. I was just--I forgot a--I needed--"

"Harrington! I know, okay? I already know."

Steve can only blink at him, swallows rough in his throat. "What--Eddie, I--"

"I saw you. Weeks ago. Forgot my notebook in the theater room after Hellfire and had to run back for it. You were there, at the locker."

"You can't tell anyone."

"I'm not going to."

"No, Munson, you really can't. Nobody can know. Nobody--"

"Swe--Stevie, I promise. The secret's safe with me." He rocks back on his heels, chewing on his lip for a second before he continues. " I--I couldn't figure you out, you know? I saw you around with those kids and it didn't make any sense. King Steve, babysitting tiny nerds? But I saw you at the locker and..."

"You're giving me too much credit, man."

"I don't think so. You're never--fuck, Harrington--you're never mean. At least, not in the last couple years. You spread gossip, but you don't punch down, and you're funny as hell. Mean as shit too, but only to the people who deserve it."

His ears burn and he looks down. "Just because I have fucking--fucking editorial standards doesn't mean that I'm anything special."

Eddie scoffs. "Remember, Stevie, I was reading it a year before you were here. Cruel, vapid garbage. Always the most vile, pointless stories about people who couldn't defend themselves. And how many submissions have you gotten about me, for instance, that you've never used?"

Steve clenches his fists. "I would never--"

"I know. Sweetheart, I know. That's why I li--You're so fucking good, Stevie."

He laughs, ears burning. "I'm really not, Eddie. I try to write about fun gossip that can't hurt anyone too much, and nobody's found me out because they think I'm too dumb--"

Eddie reaches out then, fingers connecting softly with the edge of Steve's jaw. He can't help but lean into the touch, eyes flickering closed.

"You don't want to hurt people because you're fucking kind. You know how I know for sure? You must get submissions every week about me, and you've never once printed that I'm--" Eddie stops then, swallowing hard.

Steve's throat goes tight. He rests his hand over Eddie's, still holding his face. "Me too," he whispers. "Kind of. I like--it's both. For me."

"Oh," Eddie breathes, mouth lifting in a bright, beautiful smile that Steve can't help but return.

He's watching, sees when Eddie's gaze drifts his lips, making his breath hitch. He doesn't really think about closing the distance between them, slotting their mouths together in a tentative, gentle kiss.

"You're just full of surprises aren't you, Steve Harrington? Eddie asks when they part.

Steve blushes. "That's sort of the last of them."

"Sure. Next you'll be telling me you've played dnd."

"I have a character."

"What???"

"Human paladin. Dustin worked on it with me. Ready to get out of here?"

"Human paladin," Eddie gapes. "You know--you said--what's happening?"

Steve twines their fingers together, leading Eddie towards the auditorium exit. "Well, first we're going to walk out to my car and then we're going to my house, and we're going to look through Tattler submissions. Maybe makeout a little bit."

Eddie giggles. "What the fuck? Like. What the fuck, sweetheart?"

He turns to face Eddie, smile big and pure and bright with happiness. "If you're really nice to me, I'll let you help write this week's issue."

"Oh, oh. You're going to wreck me." Eddie mumbles, almost to himself.

"If you're lucky." Steve beams.

[bylertruthr]

how st characters would go viral on tiktok

el: duets a cooking video and asks out of nowhere “what is salt?”

will: “a day in my life as the most emotionally repressed boy in indiana”

mike: someone comments “are you gay” on one of his videos, he responds to it in a video saying defensively “i’m not gay! i just really love my best friend!” it becomes a meme

max: goes viral for skateboarding past a group of people fighting while sipping a slurpee and headphones on

dustin: unironically doing a cosplay in the street and filming himself

lucas: reacts to videos with the most over dramatic expressions ever

steve: posts a thirst trap with the caption “hot single mom energy” with erica and dustin gagging and making disgusted faces in the background

nancy: “grwm” except it turns into a 10 minute feminist rant

robin: duetting ‘alpha male’ videos and roasting them

[letterstomichelangelo]

GUYS THIS IS NOT A DRILL

[moonriselabyrinth]

“Tammy Thompson?” 😟

“Jason Carver?” 😒

[lavenderstobins]

stranger tweets part 12

[previous] [next]

all previous parts: [part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4] [part 5] [part 5.5] [part 6] [part 7] [part 8] [part 9] [part 10]

[hawkinsbnbg]

Today, Mike had woken up on the wrong side of his bed so he was especially vicious as he ranted about anything he found irritating about Steve.

He hadn't even reached the midpoint when Dustin decided to rip him a new one. Which, yeah, was fair because he didn't usually do Steve that dirty. But his bad mood had taken over and he found himself arguing with Dustin.

"It's not like you don't gripe about him every day," Mike retorted heatedly. "In fact, you are the one making fun of him the most out of everybody here," he gestured widely at the others (Lucas cringed, Will looked guilty, Max and Erica high-fived each other, El nodded calmly, Eddie just gave him a little wave).

"That's because I'm his brother," Dustin said matter-of-factly while adopting Steve's signature mom pose. "But who are you? You're just his ex's brother. Without Nancy, you're just a random kid to him."

(Eddie, Max, and Erica looked at each other with the same smirk. "Oh, that burns."

Lucas just sighed helplessly as Will and El watched on in amusement.)

Mike's nostril flared indignantly. He would never ever admit this, but while he thought Steve was lame and an idiot sometimes, he respected Steve plenty. Not enough to admire, but enough to fight Dustin for him.

"So what? I know him longer than you," Mike fired back. "I have more M&M's and 3 Musketeers from him than you do, I played baseball with him every weekend, and I also watched Star Wars with him."

"You do understand what ex means, right?" Dustin narrowed his eyes at him. "Nancy's his ex-girlfriend, ergo you're his ex-something, ergo you need to stop living in the past. You know why? Because I," Dustin pointed at himself smugly, "am his favorite now. I'm the present and the future. His shotgun, his house, his pool, his snack cupboard will forever be mine, thank you very much."

And just like that, all hell broke loose.

Because not even Will was willing to accept that bullshit. Steve never had a favorite, okay? As their babysitter, he wasn't allowed to.

"What the fuck are you fighting for?" Mike glared at Erica who was (impressively) making Dustin wail like Mew on the floor.

"Steve still owes me a lifetime of free ice cream, duh," she looked at him like he was an idiot. "Stop talking shit and come help me."

A wise man once said: "Enemy's enemies are friends."

So it only took Mike a second to give her a hand.

———

"Why didn't you stop them?" Steve asked in exasperation, thinking about the fistfight that would've taken place in the Wheelers' basement had he not interfered on time.

"'Cause the more they eliminate among themselves," Eddie leaned in closer and whispered conspiratorially, "the less I gotta fight to keep you."

"But I'm their babysitter," Steve pushed him away with a finger on the forehead. "And you're supposed to make it easier for me, not harder."

"Sweetheart," Eddie grabbed his wrist and nuzzled his nose into it, "Just say the word and I'll make something harder for you right now."

"You're incorrigible," Steve rolled his eyes, but his pretty smile had betrayed his mood.

"Yeah, all because of you, baby," Eddie pressed his lips on the back of Steve's hand. "O prithee, my princess, give me the remedy."

"What if I don't have any?" Steve raised his brow.

"You do, darlin'," Eddie pulled him close and cradled his face. "My tonic is right here," a kiss on his forehead. "My joys," on his eyelids. "My happiness," on his his nose and then his mouth, "my love."

Later, when they cuddled in bed, sweet and tender after loving each other til midnight, he would tell Eddie there was no need to ask for him in the first place.

Because he had been Eddie's boy since the day the battle vest was draped on him.

It seemed Steve did have a favorite, after all.

Except, it was none of his kids.

Truly a tragedy.

[lulalulens]

Boyfrems...

[morganbritton132]

Steve and Robin: *talking about when they were tortured but specifically in a way that makes them sound like they’re complaining about working customer service*

Dustin: Can you please take being tortured by Russians seriously?

Everybody else at this party:

Everybody else: I’m sorry, what?

[smalltownrobin]

Scoops troop being made of two pairs of 100% platonic besties is so important to me

[stevemania]

stranger things s4 behind the scenes ˚˖𓍢ִ໋📷˚

[bylertruthr]

stranger things text posts because why not

[maybe-milo]

Riding shotgun in the Bimmer

Oh look it's another polaroid drawing after however many months its been! Still getting the hang of this whole art thing so I'd really appreciate your critiques <3