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mc-i-r · 9 months

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Disposable Heroes

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

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

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

———

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey, um… can we talk for a sec?”

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

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

“Um.. what do you mean?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey, is Hellfire still going on?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Eddie. He wants Eddie.

A voice interrupts his thoughts.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How did you-“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I really should be going, sorry.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So he walks.

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

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

Eddie. Eddie.

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

It doesn’t. Steve steps back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Steve walks out the door.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maybe this will fix him.

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

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

Would it really be so bad if he just disappeared?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh. Chrissy. Fuck.

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

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

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

“What the fuck is this?”

Shit.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay.”

Eddie’s smile grows.

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

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

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

It’s terrifying.

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

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

Shit. He’s so gone for this man.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Max. Dark. Waits. Dark. Runs.

Robin. Dark. Waits. Dark. Runs.

His house. Light.

They’re safe. He collapses.

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

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

The bat finds a new home in his trunk.

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

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

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

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fourtyforever · 18 days

Text

Get in losers were making a fic rec masterlist

Hi y’all it’s me, your local multishipper, and I’m about to be the change I wish to see in the world by putting all the best f1 fics in one place.

Maxiel

cool things to say to your soulmate by @powerful-owl (E, 14k)

A collection of shorter soulmate stories by the great em powerfulowl. Essentially the maxiel thesis as far as I’m concerned. If you ever catch me talking about the goose fic, this is what I’m talking about. Fun story: this was actually the first F1 rpf I ever read and I blame it for why my standards are so fantastically high.

Thursday girl by @boxboxlewis (M, 3k)

Max is outed by the press. Shocking emotional impact to word ratio and off the charts tenderness. Short and sweet and low key a comfort read to me.

the being unknown by anonymous (E, 12k)

Body swap with really unique and emotional vibes. Ngl this one hurt me (in the best way). A fantastic and heart-wrenching take on the horrors of 2022.

Charlos

win or lose (it’s how you play the game) by @f1-stuff (E, 18k)

Hickey bet between charles and carlos. Cannot get over this fic for as long as I live: the silliness is off the charts, the vibes are literally the most perfectly balanced tenderhorny I’ve ever read and the writing is just really that good. I think about this fic minimum once a day.

last night by venerat (E, 24k)

College au. Ngl this one is just especially spicy, but also very very funny and fully captivating top to bottom (see what I did there? haha). Also a great ensemble cast here, which I always love.

Once more (before we die) by @f1-stuff (M, 6k)

Fantasy AU where charlos are princes of warring kingdoms. I love this AU and I love the tenderness between Charles and Carlos that we get out of it. I’m usually not really an AU type of gal but this one really did change my mind.

Playing games by @vegasgrandprix (T, 4K)

Gay chicken. WIP, but I can already tell so clearly exactly where this is going and that is delightful to me. Honestly this really is how they act like 90% of the time already.

Yukierre

match made in heaven by venerat (T, 4K)

Pierre is yuki’s matchmaker. this one is just so sweet and sooooo silly. Comfort read 100%

Loscar

Are they gay or European? (the answer is both) by periwinkle_bumper_cars (T, 30k)

Logan keeps walking in on other drivers in compromising positions. 100% balls to the wall silliness from beginning to end and just completely delightful the whole time. Background carlando, kmag/hulkenberg, brocedes, maxiel, and honestly the ensemble cast is what takes this one from great to top tier.

Landoscar

By a thread by @mctwinkdom (E, 32k)

The classic Australian thongs misunderstanding (gone sexual). Incredibly silly, amazingly hot and honestly a top-tier character study of both Oscar and Lando. A great study in unreliable narration as well (probably part of what accounts for my previous point).

carried away by orphan account (E, 22k)

Fake dating. Honestly this one got me in my feels so much more than I expected from the premise. Sweet and a little bit angsty and just a delightful read all the way down.

Strollonso

green light, red wine (and I don’t feel fine) by @vicsy (E, 19k)

Mafia AU where lance is the son of Fernando’s arch nemesis. THEE strollonso fic of all time I tell you. Unparalleled characterization on the part of both nando and lance, fantastic ensemble cast, FANTASTIC writing, and off the charts unreal spiciness. If you haven’t read this yet then what are you doing

El dick plan by @waddlingpenguin (E, 800)

Lance says ‘daddy,’ both Fernando and Lawrence answer. Short, sweet and SILLY.

camera roll by @penaltyboxboxbox (E, 5k)

Sexting/sex tapes. Overall nice and spicy and just fantastic characterization. Also absolutely crucial is the companion art also by dave penaltyboxboxbox which is literally like the ice cream on top of the cake for such a wonderful fic

silver platter by @wewentcarracing (E, 10k)

getting together fic featuring long suffering estie bestie. Honestly the fic is amazing and spicy and just so well written but Esteban’s ever growing dismay is lowkey my favorite part. Works as a pretty great lance character study as well.

Brocedes

Roseberg’s vs haminkton by @jean----ralphio (E, 16k)

Tattoo artist versus flower shop, except they’re rivals. This is like…just how they are honestly. Absolutely stunning ensemble cast and absolutely hilarious buildup to lewis and Nico finally getting together. Side order of seb just being a massive shit stirrer which honestly I think is the role he belongs in

The real reason nico rosberg retired by periwinkle_bumper_cars (G, 3k)

Secret Santa (gone horribly wrong). This is…..also just how they are unfortunately. The rancidest of vibes but also screeching-out-loud funny.

will be updating this on the reg so stay tuned for more good fics. also maybe if I am very lucky someday I will have my own fics to add to the list. definitely I need to become slightly more insane before I can start writing for this fandom but believe you me I’m well on my way.

#fic rec #f1 fic rec #maxiel #charlos #yukierre #loscar #landoscar #twinklaren #strollonso #brocedes #hope you all enjoy :P

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1d1195 · 10 months

Text

Traditional X

You can read the rest of Traditional here.

We are getting to the end of what I believe is the main storyline here. Maybe one or two more parts but I already have at least three little extras lined up in my head too.

Additionally, I added in the days because it was kind of getting all over the place and I wanted to make sure the timeline wasn't too confusing--especially since we're winding down on days until the internship is over. I hope it doesn't detract from the story. Also, another reminder I don't know anything about running a business.

This part has some minor character death/trauma mentioned, sensitive topics, grief, angst, and I may or may not have cried a bit while writing, so that should put it in perspective I think. Try not to hate me at the end I don't think you're going to like it. Thank you, thank you, thank you for continuing to read.

Just wanted to hear your voice, kitten. Didn’t get to see you much today other than tea. Get some sleep, of course. I’ll see you tomorrow. Sleep well, love.

So now she texted him: I’m awake now if you want to hear my voice.

The phone rang almost instantly. “Hi,” she whispered.

“S’like music,” he said sleepily. She giggled. “That’s a symphony,” he murmured.

Friday

Louis and Eleanor were lying on her couch (and one another) while she lay on the rug in front of the coffee table, facing the TV. Her phone vibrated with a message from Harry.

Can we chat sometime today?

That sounds like a terrible way to break up with me. Don’t tell your other girls that.

Don’t be ridiculous, kitten. All of it.

I’ll call you when Louis and El leave.

I’ll be waiting impatiently.

“Must be Harry. She definitely doesn’t smile at Niall’s messages like that,” Louis chuckled.

She rolled her eyes and tilted her head back to her friends. They were watching a movie trying to decide where to eat or if they should order in. It was a regular, run of the mill day. They worked their Friday shifts and now they were lying about her pretty apartment that she hardly felt she’d been spending any time in. Mondays of course were still dinner out with Harry, Thursdays were movie nights at his place (and with any luck something a bit cheekier, now), and she spent many Saturday nights at his place sleeping beside him until one in the morning where they spoke quietly, candidly about anything. In the morning, she woke up to a rotation of pancakes, waffles, or French toast.

And kisses.

She woke up to a ton of kisses.

So, this Friday evening, she spent with Louis and Eleanor watching a movie that was so trashy it was wonderful. “How’s the job search?” Louis asked.

She frowned. The one sore spot that seemed to get sorer each passing day. “I really thought interning at Styles Incorporated was going to give me a leg up,” she sighed. “I don’t know... I’ve applied to some top places and they’ve either passed or ghosted me. Maybe I need to lower my standards.”

“Absolutely not,” Eleanor said immediately. “You deserve the top. You deserve it all,” she said.

Smiling, she looked at Eleanor, snuggled under Louis who was draped across her lap, and he winked at her. “You deserve the very best, babe,” he told her.

She shrugged and let out a sad sigh. “I don’t think these places think I do though,” she mumbled. “But it’s fine...I... I don’t know... I’ll figure it out. I’m not going to let it stop me now. Another month and I’ll be done.”

There was a pause. “Speaking of,” Louis began. “I’m told your program does in fact, have a graduation ceremony.”

She blinked surprised by the idea as if she didn’t already know. “What?”

“Harry told me that of course your college has one and you—”

She only vaguely heard the end of Louis’ sentence. She was feeling...anger? Anger at Harry? It didn’t seem like that was a reasonable conclusion. She had never been mad at him in the eight months she had known him. But her chest started to ache, and her blood felt hot, and she didn’t want to be mad at Harry, but she was sad he betrayed her trust in what she told him at one in the morning. Even if it was a silly little thing like making sure she had people at her graduation ceremony. She shook her head. “I’m not walking,” she interrupted. “I don’t want to.”

“Love, you worked so hard!” Eleanor gasped. “Please! It would mean so much to us to see you do it. We want you to have that.”

While the kindness and the meaningfulness of their words was not lost on her, she was serious in what she told Harry. But maybe she left out the part that she didn’t want to walk across the stage because it would remind her of the last graduation ceremony she attended. The last time she remembered a big happy family memory. “When did Harry tell you?” She asked quietly.

“He didn’t know for sure when it was...He was probing around, I think, because he might be trying to get you something,” Eleanor said so excitedly she was practically clapping. “Oh, I bet it’s going to be amazing whatever he gets you.”

“We weren’t that surprised, but we told him that you weren’t walking because there wasn’t a ceremony...and he told us there most assuredly was—which did surprise us. Most interns went in the past, so what’s the scoop on that, love?” Louis smirked, throwing a piece of popcorn at her. It caught in her hair. “Lying to your best friends?”

She didn’t feel like rehashing all the sad details and explaining why she didn’t want to go. “I just didn’t want it to be a big deal,” she shrugged as casually as she possibly could. She should have just told them, but she didn’t want it to be a thing.

However, Louis sensed there was more to her hiding it, immediately. It was why he was her best friend. But he didn’t press. Maybe he would later when he could get her alone. Every once in a while, he managed to pick up on something in her voice that said something of her past was coming through. “Hmm,” he hummed. “Well, that’s fine. We’d still like to go. A couple pictures and that’s it. Then dinner. Nothing else. I won’t even get you a card to commemorate the day.��

“Oh, I’m getting you a card,” Eleanor nodded fiercely. “Gonna write you the mushiest proud letter there is to write,” she smiled wrinkling her nose at her.

So, how could she say no to them? They loved her so wholly it really was unfair to exclude them after their endless support. Sighing, she shook her head. “It’s Saturday, the 14th,” she rolled her eyes. Both pulled out their phones and tapped rapidly putting it in their calendars.

“Good,” Louis smiled. “Now let’s go get dinner,” he said kissing Eleanor on his way off her lap and helping her up as he nearly ran for the door all in one movement. Eleanor rolled his eyes.

“You picked him,” she reminded El. “In high school too,” she shook her head and wrinkled her nose in distaste.

“I know, aren’t I lucky?” El said with a mocking dreamy tone in her voice but she meant it. It was obvious on her face, and she loved that about Eleanor most of all. Letting Louis be himself, unapologetically. Louis was the very best and she was glad someone else saw it too. Eleanor squeezed her arm and followed him. She took a second to take in the moment. She couldn’t help but smile so completely happy with her life for the first time in a very long while.

She woke up at some point in the night by herself on the comfiest mattress she ever owned all thanks to Harry. She peered through two of the slats on the blinds of her window to get a better estimate of the time without having to look at her phone in hopes of falling back asleep in a few moments. It was still pitch-black out, save for the moon illuminating the sky.

After tossing and turning for nearly five minutes without drifting off quickly, she decided she may as well make good use of her time. She grabbed for her phone. As expected, the clock told her that if they were sharing a bed, it was time to have her nightly chat with Harry.

When she came back from dinner and before she fell asleep this evening, she told Harry she was a bit tired. She would call, of course. But she might drift off while talking.

Just wanted to hear your voice, kitten. Didn’t get to see you much today other than tea. Get some sleep, of course. I’ll see you tomorrow. Sleep well, love.

So now she texted him. I’m awake now if you want to hear my voice.

The phone rang almost instantly. “Hi,” she whispered.

“S’like music,” he said sleepily. She giggled. “That’s a symphony,” he murmured.

Her heart was bursting. “Yeah?”

“M-hmm.”

“Did I wake you?”

“Yes,” he said simply. She frowned. But it was like he knew she was frowning, because he continued, putting her mind at ease. “I would probably wake up from a coma t’hear your voice.”

She was so close to saying she loved him out loud. How could she not? But how would she be any different than any intern or companion before her? She was determined to wait until it was over. Until he stopped paying her and then she could at least tell him. So he knew and he could...decide if she was worth it. “Did you have a good day?” She whispered instead.

He yawned and she heard the rustling of his sheets. Sitting up against his fluffy pillows, she assumed. “S’alright,” it sounded as if he were shrugging it off. “I was in a crummy mood all morning.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” she wished she went into his office earlier to see how she could have helped.

“Not something y’could have helped with, beautiful,” he had a smirk in his voice. It left her breathless that he could tell how she was feeling without seeing her. “Before y’worry.”

“Me? Worry?”

He chuckled that beautiful breathy laugh of his. She imagined his dimples, his glittering eyes. “Mmm...”

It was quiet for a moment and since he wanted to hear her talk, she thought she may as well get it out of the way. “So...” she sighed. “Louis and Eleanor found out about my graduation ceremony actually happening somehow...and they’re making me go.”

He didn’t say anything for a moment, which told her he already knew that they had found out because of him. “I think y’should go, love.”

“I know. I’m going to.”

He sighed with relief. “That’s good.”

“If...” she swallowed awkwardly hating how she was even asking in the first place. “If you wanted to come...I think I get a ton of tickets...it is a Saturday so you wouldn’t miss wor—”

“Kitten, of course m’going t’be there,” he promised. “I’d sell m’company t’be there for you.”

She scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’d sell it t’Niall, maybe. But I’d still sell it.”

She giggled. “Do you think Niall would want to come, too?”

“Yes, absolutely. We wouldn’t miss it.”

She clutched the phone tighter to her ear enjoying the sound of Harry at the other end. The irritation she felt was only a nagging little bite on the inside of her head that she pushed away. Because really, this whole month had to be the most, and totally, happiest she had been in years.

Saturday/Sunday

“I blame myself for my brother’s death,” she said it softly. She didn’t even ask if he was awake. Either she somehow knew, or she wasn’t looking for him to answer. Harry frowned, trailing his fingers up and down her arm. It was a sudden comment, but it was the middle of the night. It was what they did.

“I don’t think that’s possible, kitten.”

“I went to some stupid school party. I didn’t want to get in the car with the person offering a ride home. So, he came to pick me up, no questions asked. Not a care in the world that it was almost two in the morning,” she shrugged against him. “A car hit us,” she said simply. It was silent for a minute. Harry hardly moved. “He must have seen it coming before I did... because he turned...so his side of the car took the brunt of the hit.” He squeezed her. “I tried to pull him out. Begged him to breathe,” she shook her head. “It was awful,” her voice cracked. Harry couldn’t imagine what she had seen. Couldn’t imagine what it took for her to get in the car. No wonder she walked everywhere.

“Y’don’t have t’tell me, love,” he told her, and he meant it. That was plenty. He could fill in the gaps if it meant she didn’t have to relive it again. He was sure she relived it every day.

“It’s why my parents hate me.”

Harry sucked his lip into his mouth. “They shouldn’t,” he fully believed that. He may not have judged them for the way they grieved but they lost one child in that accident. It easily could have been two and yet somehow, they chose to lose them both even though she was right there, alive and in need of love more than ever.

Harry wouldn’t say it to her now, but he would think part of his heart would feel like it was missing if she had been lost all those years ago. Whether he knew her or not.

“Sometimes I think they’re right to,” she sniffled. “I’d hate me, too. He was the best,” she whispered shakily.

“Kitten.”

He loved the dark and their little chats every day since they started. Today, he hated it. It was too revealing. This was hurting her. And he hated that most. “I should have died.”

“Thank God, you didn’t.”

“It’s not fair,” she whispered. How many times had she said it to herself, her therapist, to Louis of all people? The only person who consoled her and not her parents...the only person who needed to be consoled as much as her was Louis. As he was breaking down, he was trying to keep her together. It wasn’t fair at all.

“No,” Harry shook his head. “It’s not.”

“I miss him.”

“I know.”

More silence. “I told you the dark is revealing.”

He smirked sadly. He wished he could tell her something just as revealing. But telling her he loved her so wholly when they weren’t in a relationship, not an actual one, after she was grieving for a moment in time, didn’t seem right. Harry wanted to tell her it was easy. Easy to love her. It was effortless having her in his life. He wanted to reveal something of equal weight. If only so she wouldn’t be sad. “I like getting t’know you,” he said instead.

“Even though I’m the reason someone died?”

He shook his head and gave her a reassuring squeeze. “Someone else made a dumb decision, love. Of course, your brother would come t’help you. I’d do the same for Gem,” he promised. “S’in the brother handbook.”

“Louis said the same thing...he has a bunch of younger sisters...and me.”

“Louis would still do it for you, too; I’m sure.” They were silent again. He thought she fell asleep. Sometimes she would do that. So, he asked the question that had been burning in his mind forever. “I don’t want t’pry...What happened with your parents...after that?”

She shook her head. “Maybe another middle of the night talk. Not this one,” she mumbled.

He nodded. “Yeah, of course, love.”

“Thank you for...everything Harry. Really,” she yawned and nuzzled closer to his chest.

“Course, love,” he repeated and let her fall asleep beside him peacefully.

Wednesday

There was yelling from the other side of the door as she knocked, then immediately entered his office with tea. Right as she opened the door, he slammed the phone down to his desk. Then picked it back up and slammed it three more times into the receiver. She blinked and cringed with each hit. He slid a hand over his face and turned to face the window. Part of her thought he didn’t register she was in the room.

“Harry,” she said softly.

He shook his head. “Love, please jus’ leave the tea and go,” he grumbled. “M’gonna snap and I don’t want it t’be at you,” he sounded infuriated. Interns never seemed to work out because of his anger... She knew Niall worked hard to keep her away from Harry’s outbursts. Mostly because Niall knew Harry would never forgive himself if he ever broke her heart or scared her because of his job. But she still knew the stories. The whispers in the breakroom and by the copier about his anger weren’t something she could ignore. Sometimes Harry’s angry tone filled the whole floor. She bit her lip at his warning and nodded silently.

After she set the tea on his desk, she sat on the couch across the room. She sipped at her drink watching him tap on his phone screen searching for something. He turned back around after a moment looking at his computer and then she saw his eyes flicker over to her. “I know I told you t’leave,” his voice was icy. But she saw his gaze soften just a hair.

She didn’t say anything because she didn’t want to set him off or make him any angrier than he already was. She was content to sit there...just wanted to wait there in case he needed her because that’s what she did. Even if he was going to pretend that she wasn’t there.

His phone was ringing from the other end while he called someone. “I need the file we looked at this morning...” A pause and she watched him clench his fist and he squeezed his eyes shut angrily. “Well, I don’t have it!” he snapped slamming his fist on the desk. “If I had it, I wouldn’t have called! Can’t you just do what I fucking ask and bring—"

She hurried to his computer after he slammed his fist down. Not caring even a little, when he hardly moved out of her way and continued yelling at the poor person at the other end of the line. The words he snarled into the phone didn’t reach her ears. With three clicks and a few taps it was on his screen. She stepped out of his way and sat back on the couch waiting for the next mini blowup. He put his phone down again as his eyes scanned the screen. He grumbled about something unintelligible under his breath and he tapped on his phone screen again and brought it to his ear for all of five seconds.

“Come here,” he said into his phone.

Within moments, Niall was there. He frowned seeing Harry’s anger but managed a quick wink at the sweet girl sitting quietly on the couch. She sipped her coffee while Niall went behind Harry’s desk. He looked at the screen for a few moments and she saw his face falter a bit; he rubbed his hand on the back of his head. “Well, we knew this was coming.”

Harry turned away and paced to the other end of the room. Hands on the back of his head. Niall scrolled on his screen and sighed. He glanced at her. She hadn’t taken her eyes off the pair of them since Niall stood next to Harry. “C’mere,” he said to her. She hurried back over. He pointed to several itemized lines and murmured a few things that she only had a vague understanding of due to her limited understanding of things that happened here at Styles Incorporated solely because in the grand scheme of things, she hadn’t been there that long, and she was just an intern.

She looked at the numbers, pursed her lips in concentration and did her best to calculate quickly. “Can you shrink this number?” She asked, pointing at the screen.

He glanced at Harry who looked ready to jump out the window. His head pressed to the glass taking deep, angry breaths. “No, darling.”

“How about this one?” She pointed to a different cell. He shook his head again. She looked over at Harry who was clearly distraught. Sighing, she thought for a few quiet breaths and Niall frowned as he scrolled. She thought back to all her classes, every lecture, and every assignment she had ever worked on. Unfortunately, she came to only one conclusion.

“You can have them file for bankruptcy,” she shrugged.

Niall pushed her behind him as soon as the beginning of that b-word left her mouth. Harry hated that word. At the same time, Harry spun rapidly, took three long strides, and menacingly glared through Niall in her direction. “Are you fucking serious?” He hissed but he was staring so angrily at Niall, but the expression was really meant for her. She gulped audibly. This had to have been the nightmarish things that previous interns spoke about. It made her stomach churn and she thought she might throw up. God bless Niall for standing in her way—she knew Harry wouldn’t resort to physical violence. Not even a little. She felt it in her soul. But part of her wondered if it would hurt less than his cutting, angry voice.

No wonder Niall never let her be around Harry when he was mad. This was terrifying.

“Harry—” Niall started.

She blinked in surprise at how angry he got. At her. But he did warn her. Her heart felt like it was going to beat right out of her chest. “I am not having them file,” he growled.

Her face definitely turned red, and she swallowed nervously. “It’s your only option,” she whispered standing her ground anyway. He flung the cordless keyboard across the room. It smashed into the wall and many of the keys fluttered off in a heap against the wall. She flinched at the sound as he paced back to that side of the room.

“Darling, kindly shut it,” Niall whispered over his shoulder.

Harry paced and paced. Niall was still standing in front of her protectively as Harry grumbled to himself trying to make sense of it. “Why?” He practically barked at her. “Why’s it my only option?”

She took a deep breath. “The legal fees would equate to more than the bankruptcy payback.” He stopped pacing and turned to look at her. Niall even turned around and stared at her in surprise. “What?” She felt like this was a worse thing to say than bankruptcy. Niall stepped from in front of her and used the mouse to click through different screens on the computer, it took a moment because he no longer had a keyboard. He glanced at Harry and nodded.

Harry took a deep breath. “Can y’please explain that for me, love?” His voice was still tight with anger but at least he wasn’t barking at her or throwing things.

So, she did her best to explain that she remembered this once case she studied in her quantitative decision-making class. How it was expensive but kept the company afloat to file for a chapter of bankruptcy that allowed them to pay back the debt and keep going on if they could make it a few years. “She’s right...” Niall said clicking on the computer and gesturing to the screen. “Obviously,” he muttered under her breath.

Harry looked at the screen. While they did, she did some calculations on her phone. “So, they keep their assets?” He asked, looking up at her from the screen while Niall searched something on his phone to show Harry.

She nodded. “As long as they make this much,” she said and held her phone up to the two men.

Niall smirked. “I like her,” he said knowingly.

Harry sighed, still embittered. “Can you go buy me a new keyboard, love?” He asked.

Feeling like she had finally made a difference and helped a bit, she grabbed her coffee and nodded. “Sure,” she said softly.

“Don’t spend your own money on it either,” Harry said knowingly without looking up at her. She smirked to herself and left his office before she could say any more wrong things.

Since it was a Wednesday, she hadn’t seen Harry outside the office for two days. After getting the new keyboard and plugging it in, Harry was swamped for the remainder of the day. Lawyers, Niall, and others kept filing in and out of his office. At five in the evening, when most everyone was leaving, they were still coming and going. Niall hadn’t seen her in hours while she sat at her desk sending him files, answering calls, and taking messages. She knocked on the door before entering, carrying five or so pizzas and an assortment of drinks. Niall was the only one who noticed.

He winked at her, mouthed thank you, and watched as she left.

It was another hour before Harry noticed he was eating pizza...with pineapple on the slice. “Who got this?” He muttered.

“That cute intern of Niall’s,” one of the lawyers said.

“That’s your intern Niall? I’d be begging for her to alleviate the stress—”

“I wouldn’t finish that sentence if I were you,” Niall said calmly. Harry was glad he had a bite of pizza in his mouth and Niall interrupted that sentence before it finished. After the day Harry had he wasn’t sure he had much self-control left to not physically attack someone—especially on behalf of her.

How did he not notice the sweet girl bringing pizza? He was certain even if the room was on fire, he would still take the time to notice her. He frowned. He had no idea she did this.

“I think this is enough for tonight, Mr. Styles,” someone said after hours of being there. Harry hadn’t looked at the time in ages. Since before lunch at least. He was only vaguely aware that it was after one at some point only because she brought his daily tea. He nodded silently, still upset about the day but also that he had no idea the perfect girl was there.

“You screamed at her, y’know,” Niall said condensing the pizza boxes. Placing the empty ones by the trashcan for the maintainers to take care of. After everyone left. Harry was helping clean up as well and packing his things.

Harry tended to get a little fuzzy on his consciousness when he was mad. “I told her to leave.”

“You’re stupid for thinking she would,” he rolled his eyes. “She’s quite brilliant,” Niall said knowingly. “When are you going to offer her a job?”

“It’s complicated,” he remarked. “I think if I create a job for her, people...will get suspicious.”

“Who cares?”

Harry worked extremely hard to get Styles Incorporated where it was so quickly. You didn’t become a thirty under thirty member without working hard. In all that time, Harry made every decision he could to the best of his ability. He always wondered if he made mistakes. He loved this company. It was his pride and joy.

The idea of losing pieces of it broke his heart. Since it happened twice within the last three months, and she managed to save both those pieces from falling to the wayside...

She seemed to know how much he loved his job, his legacy. He didn’t like her idea all that much today, even if it was good or his only option. Even when he yelled at her and snarled like she wasn’t the most special person he knew. She still voiced her opinion, and he knew that had to have been hard for her.

It hurt him to think of failing in even one little branch. But he couldn’t argue with her that it was the best option he had for this moment. “This was a brilliant idea,” one of the lawyers said as they typed furiously on their laptop. It was hours after the lovely girl left the new keyboard on his desk. Harry didn’t respond with anything but one little nod. “We should keep this in mind...would have saved you some money a few years ago,” she remarked with a gentle smile.

Niall saying “who cares” suddenly sparked something in him. Why did he care? She was brilliant. He didn’t have to convince anyone of that. It was obvious when she walked into any room, took a passing glance at whatever document they were discussing, any graph they were looking at and she casually pointed out inconsistencies and almost always managed to save him money.

“Have the other interns been like her?” He asked quietly. He had been so closed off, so worried about the reasons they were truly there... The thought of that horrible woman who made comments to the sweet girl about sleeping with him... Harry would feel terrible if he was so cynical about the entire intern process if a quarter of them were as smart as her.

Niall smiled at his best friend. The relief flooded him before Niall even spoke. “Harry, I don’t think there’s anyone like her.”

The knock on her door surprised her. She thought it might be Louis or Eleanor who couldn’t be bothered to walk the last five blocks back to their place after a late-night dinner. It was nearing ten and she was snuggled up on the couch with her book and music playing on the TV.

Harry was leaning against the opposite wall as she opened the door. “Oh, hi,” she said softly.

Harry stayed where he was, and he smiled at her, tiredly. “You’re so cute,” he mumbled.

She glanced down at her pajamas. A mismatching pair of shorts and a tank top. One sock on because only the left one was cold. Harry looked tired but beautiful as ever. His button-down sleeves rolled up to his elbows, tucked into his dress pants. The tie he had been wearing all day was gone, the button at his neck undone. His hair looked as if he ran his hand through it a few too many times but his tiredness seemed most evident on his face.

“Come in,” she said opening the door wider. “Do you need something to eat or drink?” She asked.

“No... had the pizza y’got us,” he murmured finding his way to the couch, he folded the corner of the page where she was reading and set the book on the coffee table. He waited for her to sit beside him and once she did, his head was in her lap. “M’sorry I screamed at you. Y’didn’t deserve that.”

“I knew you didn’t mean it,” she threaded her fingers through his hair and lightly rubbed at his scalp. “Is it all taken care of?”

“Thanks t’you,” he mumbled. She smiled softly, grateful she could ease his anger and allow him to sleep. She didn’t say anything for a bit and soon enough he was asleep in her lap. She reached for her book and read for the better part of an hour while he snored gently into her leg.

When an hour had passed, she gently pulled herself out from his head and began undressing him down to his boxers. It took effort but once he was mostly naked, she tugged him off the couch holding him up as much as she could with his tall frame to drop him into her bed. She curled up to him, grateful for the extra night with him. The first one at her place, at that.

The moon was bright even through the closed blinds, making his skin practically glow as she faced his sleeping figure. His arm beneath her pillow outstretched so she fit neatly beneath his chin if she was close enough. Their legs twisted together, his much longer than hers.

She was quiet for a bit, tracing the sparrows tattooed just below his collarbones. “They stopped talking to me,” she whispered. It wasn’t quite the standard middle of the night, but it was pressing on her mind because it was rapidly approaching the seven-year anniversary of that horrible day and it hurt so freshly, so sharply. Like it was only a week ago. She wasn’t sure Harry was even awake, but she said it anyway...maybe it was better he didn’t hear anyway. “Except for when they had too much to drink. Then they just yelled and yelled. At each other, at me...” she swallowed the pain down. “If I didn’t go out, he wouldn’t have gone to get me. We would still be a family...he was their prince,” she explained.

Her fingers drifted over his arm that rested gently with his hand at her hip. She traced the heart tattoo, the rose, and then the anchor at his wrist. “They stopped caring about me, but I couldn’t stop caring about them. I made dinner for them even if they didn’t always eat. If they did, they complained about it. I stopped eating with them. We didn’t watch movies together on Sunday evenings. We didn’t celebrate Christmas. Part of me thinks they only kept me there because they knew deep down, I was still a minor and they had to—I could ruin their lives worse by reporting them...” she bit her lip. “I don’t even think I would do that... At some point... they were the only people that ever took care of me... but then they just stopped and honestly, I don’t blame them.”

Harry didn’t make any note that he could hear but she kept going anyway. “So, I started taking care of everyone I crossed paths with...” she paused for a moment just to see if anything registered on Harry’s mind. It didn’t seem like it. But it made it easier for her to tell the story.

“When I turned 18, I invited Louis over to help me. I didn’t say with what. But the second he saw my parents...the ones that didn’t love me anymore... Louis moved me into his place... I felt so horrible, but I actually asked him to stay there just until... until I left for university at the end of the summer. He looked... betrayed. Like I let him down... He gave me the lecture of the century and Eleanor just braided my hair while he did. They made my favorite food. Neither of them said Happy Birthday once and I didn’t even care because for even just one day someone was taking care of me again,” she had done well up to this point not crying.

She sniffled and shook her head. She reached up and outlined Harry’s eyebrows, the shape of his nose. The curve of his lips and the jawline that ached her to the core. “Louis doesn’t talk about it, but I know he saw more than I ever wanted him to. I know he resents the way I hid. I think part of him wished I still lived with him. He insisted I stay the summers I came home from university,” she told the sleeping figure.

“But I got a boyfriend part way through university. We moved in quickly. Of course, I took care of him... and I didn’t mind. I liked it. He liked it. He was easy... food, sex, cleaning...” she mumbled. “But I still went to visit my parents because I couldn’t help it. I’ve never told Louis that. I didn’t tell my therapist that either...I’m sure she would be mad. And you know, I still go twice a month without telling anyone. Well, except you now... I don’t know why... I don’t know... I couldn’t leave them...they...they have to be in there still, right? The people that threw me princess birthday parties and put Band-Aids on my knees after a fall on my bike? Even after...after all of it...they’re my parents somewhere in there. Every time I go it’s just...yelling and hating me. I clean, make sure there’s food in the fridge, and then I leave,” Harry didn’t answer her. “I was supposed to stay the night at a hotel because I was supposed to move some of the last of my things...but it was a bad day. I just wanted to go home... I guess I got the sex part right with him,” she said with a smirk but without humor in her voice. “Just...not with me. Guess I didn’t do a good job there either,” she sighed sadly. “So... There it is. They just...acted as if I died too.”

Harry didn’t move a muscle. She smiled softly and kissed his cheek. “I think that’s everything,” she whispered. “I think you know everything now,” she told him. “Good night, baby,” she whispered tucking herself against his chest.

There was no movement for at least a full minute and then his arms came around her so tightly, he squeezed her like he was trying to press all the broken pieces back together. “You’re so lovely,” he murmured. “Don’t forget that,” he pressed his lips to her temple and she closed her eyes tight trying to keep the tears from spilling over like a waterfall. “S’great t’know you,” he squeezed her again. “S’an honor t’know y’care ‘bout me,” he mumbled to her.

She nodded her head in recognition that she had heard him but if she spoke, she would either cry or, worse, tell him she loved him. So, she sighed deeply against his chest and slowly fell asleep while he pressed another kiss to her forehead. Like he was trying to heal her from the outside in just by kissing the front of her tired, sad brain.

Part of her thought that with Harry it might work.

Next Wednesday

Harry was going to lose his mind. When he started the day, he was so excited that he finally had good news for the sweet girl and was excited about their future. He couldn’t wait to surprise her during their movie night the following day, at home snuggled on the comfy couch.

Instead, he was totally blindsided by the fourth of the same type of phone call of that same day.

The call started out the same as all the other ones he’d been getting. They introduced themselves. “Aye, Harry. Zayn. How are you?”

Harry blinked in surprise at the voice at the other end. Zayn was CEO of his own company, located a few towns over called Malik Industries. Rarely did they interact with one another because their clientele was very different. But every so often at big black-tie shin digs and philanthropic events they’d run into one another. In this business, it was all about networking. He was hoping he wouldn’t get this call only because Zayn was closest to his age... which was closer to her age... “Right, good. Yourself?”

“Great. Listen, I’ll make this quick, I know you’re a busy guy. I have an application in front of me and it lists you and Niall as references, and I’m used to seeing Niall’s name... but I had to ask you. You never give your name as a reference.” His heart stopped because he could only guess who the application belonged to.

She applied here too?

“Harry?” He asked. “Did I lose you?”

“Uh...” he shook his head trying to regain his composure. He was absolutely confused. She didn’t say anything about applying to any of these places and this was the fourth phone call he had to sit through with an aching heart. “No, sorry. Untimely email,” he muttered quickly. He wasn’t even facing his computer.

“Right, I understand. I’ll keep it short... you think she would be good here?”

His breath caught in his throat. She would be good anywhere. But the idea of not seeing her smiling face each afternoon carrying tea in her hands to his office (not that she would continue to have to do that if she worked here full time) was the last thing Harry wanted. “Uh...yeah, she...she would be great.”

There was a pause and a short chuckle. “I know you don’t usually do these reference calls, but there’s usually a bit more than that.”

Harry swallowed the lump in his throat trying to get the words to spill out. How could he tell her she was perfect? How could he just give her away? He wanted her there all the time in every facet of his life. She made everything better. “I know, I know,” Harry shook his head again in an attempt to get his verbal processing to work again. “She’s perfect. She can do anything. Fit in anywhere. If she doesn’t know how t’do something, she’ll figure it out. Brilliant. Truly. It’s cutthroat out there and she still manages t’be an angel. Doesn’t even bat an eye in the face of adversity. She’ll keep morale up by decorating for holidays and she makes the best chocolate chip cookies I’ve ever had.”

“See that’s what—”

“You can’t have her,” Harry interrupted flatly.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I thought she applied because there—”

“Yes. No. I’m sorry,” he shook his head. “She did apply. She would be perfect. You can’t question that. Seriously. Y’would probably hand her the keys t’your office if she joined y’in any capacity. I want t’do that somedays...but I want t’keep her here.”

“I see,” Zayn sounded agreeable. “She sounds quite special. Her recommendations, her transcript, everything is incredible. She seems like a wonderful asset Harry. Are you sure you have room for her?”

He prickled at the notion that he wouldn’t make room for her. “Yes,” he said definitively.

“Alright. Well, good for you. I hope she’s happy there. I’ll take her application any time in the future if you see a reason she needs to go elsewhere.”

Harry didn’t see it happening ever. “Sorry t’disappoint.”

“Not a problem at all. You know a good one when you see them, I get it. Have a good one,” the call ended abruptly. As if on cue, she knocked and opened his door at quarter past the hour. Clockwork. She closed the door quickly.

“Hi baby,” she winked as she whispered the pet name at him. “Brought your tea. And I got us some cake pops. I think they’re yummy. Maybe we could try to make them from scratch this weekend.”

There is no way she could just go. His heart fluttered at her words, and he smiled. He felt the ache in his chest melting away as it always did when she was around while he was upset. “Whatever you want, kitten.”

Harry didn’t tell her about the good news during movie night. He was too upset about all the phone calls.

He didn’t tell her while they were making cake Pops on that Saturday either.

When she chose to just exist that weekend a couple months ago, and not remember anything that happened over her horrible couple of days and not think about her parents, she did catch up with Louis and Eleanor that following Tuesday. Harry watched from her kitchen as the pair of them cooed over her and she let some tears fall.

“Your mum’s not having a memorial,” Eleanor told her. So that was that. It was over.

“Oh,” she said like it was a surprise.

Louis glanced at Eleanor and pursed his lips. She combed her hair back and gave her another hug while Louis pressed his hand to her shoulder and gave it a squeeze. Louis glanced at Harry and shrugged. Harry thought that meant her mum wasn’t having a memorial that she could attend. It hardened Harry’s heart while he set some mugs of tea on her counter out for the three of them.

The lawyers managed to get some information about her inheritance. The house was already in a trust under her name. “Harry, we’re grasping a bit at straws here. We don’t practice family law,” he reminded him during their next movie night.

“I know, I know. M’sorry,” he said rubbing the back of his neck while he watched from the kitchen as the girl swayed quietly on the porch swing. At the end of February, she was still insistent on sitting in the freezing cold. “I jus’ want t’make sure she’s taken care of.”

“Unfortunately, I don’t think this woman cares,” he said bluntly.

Harry frowned and ended the phone call before heading to the swing with mugs of hot chocolate. She lifted the blanket, a beanie hat almost falling into her eyes as he slid in beside her. She rested her head on his shoulder and for the moment Harry just let her live knowing that as long as she stayed here, she was cared for.

Which is why he was so happy when the lawyers finally informed him that she would have the house... eventually. The life insurance policy was never changed out of her name, and it wasn’t like they could change it now. All of it was something that could ease the ache of the worry she had.

Harry attended the memorial service, too, a week or so after that. He told her and Niall he was attending to business out of town. Niall looked at him suspiciously and he felt bad lying to the sweet girl but he...he wanted to...well he didn’t even know what he wanted. He just wanted to know what her parents were like. There were many people there. He was surprised that they still had friends after cutting off their sweet daughter. But Harry was trying his best not to judge their mourning.

He saw Louis and Eleanor there gently consoling her mother without it truly reaching their eyes. Louis saw Harry at the edge of the mourners at the cemetery, he gave him a succinct nod and then tilted his head discreetly to the right.

When everyone left, he headed to where Louis gestured, totally alone.

He read the dates on the stone, did the math, and he sighed. “I’ll do anything for her,” he knelt and pulled some weeds away from the flowers laid there. Quietly to her brother’s grave, he whispered “I promise.”

Monday

Now seemed like it was too late to tell her anything about the good news. She had seemed off all evening. Maybe it was the stress of graduation and her internship. The office had been so busy lately they hardly had a moment to have tea in the afternoon.

It was his own fault, however. When all said and done.

Now, he was walking her home from dinner. Well, actually, he was nearly running after her. She refused to get in the car. Despite how late it was. So, Harry followed her on foot. She was fast, even in the little heels she wore. The driver was close behind on their trail as well.

“I didn’t ask for you to do that!” She snapped at him. She never snapped at him. Not once. And there were plenty of times she could have over the last eight and a half months. But he thought he was being helpful. Figuring out the stuff with her mum, finding a way to finally split Niall’s position. All of it.

He thought things were going so well and even with the end of her internship coming up at the end of the next month, he was so hopeful for their future in so many ways. He didn’t really know what went wrong. He kept the conversation light trying to figure out her slightly soured mood. It didn’t seem completely fair, but he was heartbroken that he made her upset.

But it was the email that was the final straw. She received it in the middle of dinner. Mr. Malik stated there must have been miscommunication as she would be staying with Styles Incorporated. He would love to have her, feel free to apply in the future if so needed, but of course, she should stay where she’s comfortable.

Harry was in mid-conversation with the waiter, ordering dessert. Something she was reallylooking forward to when she read through the email. But the second she finished it she was angry and didn’t want dessert. She called Niall quickly, while Harry was still chatting, holding one finger up as she put her phone to her ear.

He winked at her, continuing his conversation and didn’t mind at all whether she was using her phone nor questioning it. He’d done so many times before and she was always so kind and patient about it. If he did question it, so shortly after the email, maybe he would have seen it coming. But he didn’t...he didn’t see it coming at all. “Did you...talk to Mr. Malik?” She asked him when Niall answered.

“No, darling, I haven’t heard from him or...or anyone yet about your applic—”

“Never mind,” she hung up. The second she uttered the name of another company Harry’s voice died in the conversation he was having, and he directed his attention to her.

“Did you?” She asked, point blank.

“Yes,” he said. “I told him you would be a perfect fit.”

She blinked. “Then why does he think I’m staying at Styles Incorporated?”

Harry frowned. “Don’t you want to?”

She wasn’t going to lie. “I mean...yes...but don’t you think you should have told me you were going to hire me before—”

“I just figured—"

“Harry...I’ve been rejected or ghosted from everywhere I applied to. I’ve been crying to Niall so stressed and anxious that I’m not good enough and—have you been telling everyone in the area?”

“You’ve been crying about—?”

“Harry,” she snapped.

He was surprised by her tone. “Of course...I want t’keep you,” he whispered.

“Well, what if I can’t,” her voice cracked, her hand fiddling with her silverware on the plate.

“What are y’talking about? Of course, y’can,” he said quickly reaching across the table for her hand but she pulled it back. “Kitten.”

“I don’t want dessert,” she said and stood up and marched out of the restaurant. He hurried to throw money on the table and follow after her.

When they made it to her apartment building, she was huffing. She was angry the entire way there not listening to Harry call after her, not stopping even though he begged. Harry felt like he was losing her with every step. When they reached her door, he tried again to console her as best he could. “Love, I just wanted to hel—”

“I know you feel entitled to everything I am and do because of what we are, but I didn’t ask you to do any of that! Stay out of my business.”

“Kitten,” Harry felt crushed, like she stole all the air out of her lungs.

“I know you told Louis and Eleanor about my graduation ceremony, and I let it slide... because part of me is hoping they forget that it’s in two weeks because right now, I don’t want to go. It hurts to think about my brother’s ceremony—the last time we were a family. And I know you had your lawyers talking to my mom because she called me today all up and arms about how I’m selfish to even take what she’s giving me and of course I hadn’t a clue what she was talking about. I thought it was a prank,” Harry was silent as he listened. “I know you have your driver follow me around whenever I’m out walking. Not even at night,” still quiet. But he dropped his gaze to the floor for a moment before looking back up at her. It did sound controlling when she was so angry. “On top of all that, I hadn’t gotten any notice about my student loans so I called my servicer to inquire. And guess what?”

Harry’s lips pressed together. He didn’t say a word. Because of course he already knew why she didn’t get any info about her loans. “Now this? Harry, I’ve worked my butt off to do this on my own and you just...told every company within a twenty-mile radius that I’m staying, and I didn’t even get to know that I could do it on my own? That all my hard work and all those hard things I had to face on my own just meant nothing? I thought I failed so miserably.” She was crying so hard, and she wished she wasn’t but every time she felt anger coursing through her it was an unfortunate consequence. Harry just wanted to console her and make it stop. He felt so terrible.

Every day she showed up to work and made everyone’s life so much easier. She baked brownies for the breakroom, made copies for anyone that asked because she was the only one who could stop it from jamming, and of course she went out every day, snow, sleet, hail, or rain to get himself and Niall their Starbucks order. She took care of him when he was sick and saved such a large chunk of his company, he could never repay her. All he wanted to do was help her the way she helped everyone else.

“Love,” he whispered reaching for her. She stepped out of his way.

“Just go,” she snapped as she slammed the door shut in his face. His heart felt broken, but he couldn’t think of anything to say. Because as always, she was right. He just...did everything for her because he could. Really because he wanted to, but he should have at least asked.

He could hear the sniffles and her tears through the door. He waited a minute listening to her gasping breath hoping something in his head would click. Something would appear in his mind that he could say to her. But in times like this, it was usually her that knew what to do. So of course, he couldn’t ask her. As he turned to leave, he heard her croaked voice whispering Louis’ name into the phone.

taglist: @tpwkstiles @matildasatellite @jessitpwk @jerseygirlinca @stylesfever @tiredinwinter @ameerakane20 @kimmi-kat @avasversion @youcouldstartacult @likeapplejuicenpeach @manrocket-mo @golden-hoax @harryssky1 @michellekstyles @soachibstel1 @morklee02 @loving-hazz @harrysflorencex @cherrycolas-things @emma34501 @wish-upon-a-star-1310 @foreverxholland

I'm sorry if I missed anyone in the taglist. Please let me know if you'd like to join, if it didn't work, if you no longer want to be included, etc. :)

#harry #harry styles writing #harry styles fluff #harry styles blurb #harry styles blurbs #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #ceo!harry #sugardaddy!harry #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #one direction #one direction writing #tradtional

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dingochef · 9 months

Text

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x You (OFC)

Warnings: Swearing, References to Smut (18+ Only)

Word Count: 500

Summary: Jake surprises you in an endearing and permanent way.

A little drabble to honor the fact that 150 of you amazing people follow this crazy blog. Thank you all!

Masterlist

Lucky

For once you're home early, like early early. The joys of working on literally top secret projects meant that when one of the 18 bazillion security features on the network goes awry you couldn't work. So here you are, unlocking the door to your house at 4 pm on an unassuming Thursday.

Pushing the door open you catch a glimpse of Jake, your fiance in the bathroom. He is bare chested, a sight that never fails to pull a girly sigh from you, holding out the waistband of his athletic shorts and looking intensely at something in the mirror. The noise of your shoes gracelessly clattering off against the hardwood floor alerts him to your presence.

"El! You're home early!" he squawks, obviously surprised. He pulls up his hand quickly, the band of his shorts snapping against his well defined torso with a loud noise. A quick grimace flashes across his features which is quickly overcome by a strained smile as he turns to you.

"I am, you okay, Jake?" you ask, picking up on his nervousness.

"Me, fine, fine, perfectly fine, you?"

His hand rests on his right hip bone protectively

"I'm good. You seem…skittish, are you sure you're okay?"

"Yup, right as rain," he nods overly enthusiastically.

"The servers went down at work so I got out early. I was thinking of going down to the beach for a quick swim before dinner. Want to join me?" you ask as you start to strip off your work clothes. Jake follows your movements with his jade colored eyes as more of your skin gets revealed.

"Yes–uh, no, not for six weeks," he answers, half babbling. You quirk your head at his confusing answer.

"Jake, what are you talking about?"

He lets out a sigh,

"Ummm, so I did this today," he says quickly and pulls down his waistband to reveal a small green shamrock on his hip bone.

"Is that a tattoo?" you ask.

He closes his eyes,

"Yes, it's for you. I just about lost my mind when you showed me that tattoo sketch of aviator sunglasses with a F-18 over San Diego with my initials that you're going to get. I wanted to do something like that for you. Thought it'd be a nice wedding gift."

You gently walk up to Jake and run a finger around the tattoo, not directly touching it knowing it's still healing.

"Why a shamrock?"

"You're my little leprechaun, my lucky charm, that and your insanely rabid fan love of Notre Dame, seemed like a good thought? Do you like it?"

It's a three leafed shamrock with your initials E,S, and M in each of the three leaves with Celtic knot line work around them.

"I love it, I'm so touched you would do something like this for me."

You lean over and let your voice go low and quiet,

"I can't wait to see if the next time I'm on my knees blowing you."

All that escapes Jake's mouth is a soft whimper followed by a shuddering breath,

"Fuck El, already worth it."

@kmc1989

@starswholistenanddreamsanswered

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@dempy

@hangmanscoming

@lanie-k

@callsign-viper

@senjoritanana

@djs8891

@atarmychick007

@memoriesat30

@midnightmagpiemama

@mygyn

#top gun maverick #hangman #hangman fanfiction #jake seresin fanfiction #top gun fanfiction #hangman x you #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x you #jake seresin x you

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liesyousoldme · 2 months

Text

like you've known me | rated T | word count ~25k

a @steddiebang fic coming february 29

featuring art by sharkscouts and @vesperalhemlock

Summary:

When the only way to beat the Upside Down is to erase it (and the last three years) from time, Steve Harrington is transported right back to the Fall of his junior year. His biggest problem? Everyone who had died in the last three years fighting inter-dimensional evils has no memory of the events. Suddenly, Steve finds himself with Tommy and Carol at his side and sitting mere feet away from Robin in class, and she has no idea who he is except the douchebag with the good hair that Tammy Thompson has a crush on.

With a little help from Nancy, Jonathan, Dustin, Lucas, and El, Steve will learn to navigate his life, The Right Way, this time. Which friends he wants to keep, who he wants to spend his time with, and if he wants to take notes in class this time around. If that means sometimes he needs a little weed to take the edge of stress off? Well, it's a good thing he knows a good dealer.

As things finally fall into place and Steve begins to re-form the most important relationship in his life, he thinks anything strange is over. Then, Robin starts mentioning weird dreams about ice cream and torture, and Max Mayfield shows up from California with an angry step-brother and a lot of questions. Maybe those memories aren't erased, after all.

Pairings: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington & Robin Buckley, Steve Harrington & Dustin Henderson, Steve Harrington & Lucas Sinclair Characters: Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Robin Buckley, Dustin Henderson, Lucas Sinclair, Nancy Wheeler, Jonathan Byers, Eleven, Mike Wheeler, Will Byers, Tommy Hagan, Carol Perkins, Max Mayfield, Billy Hargrove Tags: Romance, Angst, Friends to Lovers, AU: Time Travel to Pre-Season 1, Post-Season 4, Impermanent Major Character Death, Fix-it, Falling In Love, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Gay Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington-Centric, First Kiss, Drug Use (Marijuana), Steve Harrington VS Junior Year (Again)

Excerpt (cont. under the cut):

It had been a few weeks in the new timeline when Steve jumped at the sound of the phone ringing through the empty house. He frowned, setting down his fork and walking to the phone. It was Wednesday, Steve was sure of it, and Dustin’s calls always came on Thursdays, so who the hell would be calling?

“Hello?”

“Hi, Steve.” Nancy’s voice was soft and sweet and surprising.

“Oh. Uh, hey, Nance, what’s up?” He asked, heart suddenly starting to race – not because he had feelings for Nancy but because if Nancy was calling then something was wrong. Had something happened? Had their plan not –

“Listen, I don’t have too much time, Mom’s making dinner and I just finished up my homework, but I really wanted to call you,” Nancy said. She wouldn’t start out so calm if something was happening, right? So this was just a social call?

“Um. Why?” He asked, then winced. Since when did he forget how to have a conversation?

He could hear Nancy’s sigh through the phone. “I’ve been keeping an eye on you at school lately, and –“

“Okay, creep,” he joked, lips curling at the corners when Nancy laughed.

“Shut up, I just mean I’ve – Look, I just wanted to make sure you’re okay. And like I said, I’ve been watching you in the halls and stuff, and I know you’re eating lunch in the library because Tommy told everyone in the cafeteria one day –“

He what?

“- and I know the whole thing with Robin is hard for you but…”

“But what?” He prompted when she trailed off.

“But you’re moping, Steve. You’re moping all over school, and probably all over your house.”

“I – wha- I mean, that’s not true,” Steve said, frowning.

“Steve, we beat the bad guys and everybody is fine. Everybody’s alive! And you’re moping.”

“Okay, now this just feels like you’re being mean.”

“I’m not trying to be mean, I’m trying to – “ She cut herself off with a frustrated groan. “Do you even know how El is doing?”

“I – what? Is she okay?”

“Yes, she’s okay, Steve, but also, no, she’s not okay, because Hopper is still trying to find Owens since he’s the one that will probably know best if it’s safe for Jane Hopper to suddenly show up in Hawkins and enroll in school. So, she spends her days alone, but everyone always goes to visit her, every Saturday, at the cabin. Everyone except you.”

Steve felt tears prick behind his eyes. “I didn’t know.”

“Yes, you did,” Nancy said, sounding tired. “Dustin said he asked you to come that first weekend, and you said no, so he didn’t ask you again.”

“I don’t – I don’t remember that,” he admitted, feeling dreadful disappointment spread through his veins. “Nancy, I hardly – that first week was –“

“But it wasn’t just the first week, Steve. We’re all trying to get back to our lives but you’re just going through the motions. Even Dustin knows something’s wrong.”

“What? I talk to Dustin every week!”

“Lucas wanted to invite you to the park to play basketball and Dustin told him you probably still weren’t ready.”

Steve’s jaw dropped.

“Dustin knows you, in this timeline probably better than anyone, and he knows something’s wrong but he’s still just a kid, Steve, he doesn’t know how to deal with this.”

“Did Dustin ask you to call me?”

“No, this was my idea,” Nancy said. “I’m just a kid, too, Steve. I don’t know what to do to fix it but I want to help you, and so does Jonathan.”

“Jonathan wants to help me?” He asked, incredulous.

Nancy chuckled. “Honestly, I was as surprised as you are. But he does because despite everything, he cares about you. We all care about you, and it’s way too easy for you to hole up in your house and ignore everyone at school and… mope.”

“I don’t think I like that word anymore,” Steve said, even though it was true. His stomach twisted in knots at the sudden guilt he felt.

“Well I didn’t think you’d like it very much if I accused you of being depressed,” Nancy stated boldly, and Steve winced. “Just meet me and Jonathan at that picnic table outside of school tomorrow morning, okay? Like, twenty minutes before first bell. Can you do that?”

Steve swallowed thickly and fought every instinct in him that wanted to say no.

“Yeah, Nance. I can do that.”

Steve woke with a sense of dread hanging over him. He really didn’t want to show up just for Nancy and Jonathan to chew him out for how selfish he’d been (he could beat himself up for that without their help). But he got in his car twenty-five minutes earlier than he usually would, just to make sure he wouldn’t be late, and laughed to himself when he got to the school. He pulled into the empty spot next to Jonathan’s car. Apparently, they had the same idea.

Steve got out of his car and shouldered his backpack. He looked around; there were a few people milling about, and more cars pulling into the lot than he expected this early.

“Do people always get to school this early?” He asked by way of introduction.

Jonathan laughed and walked over to him. Nancy stepped up behind him and gave him a pointed look. “I think you’ll find that you’re just always late.”

“Yeah, okay,” he conceded. “So, uh… Picnic table?” He suggested, already feeling the stares of their classmates from around them.

Nancy and Jonathan agreed and they made the walk together, quietly taking in each other’s presence. Nancy was in between the two boys but it wasn’t as awkward as Steve expected it to be.

Maybe he really was over Nancy Wheeler, after all.

He choked on a laugh when the picnic table came into view, and they were sighted almost immediately.

“Oh,” Eddie Munson said, grabbing his metal lunchbox and dropping it near his feet. Steve snorted. Eddie huffed. “What?”

“As if we don’t know what’s in your damn lunchbox, Munson,” he said, finding himself immediately falling back into the banter he’d developed with Eddie before –

“I don’t really know what’s going on here,” Eddie admitted with an awkward, nervous laugh. “You three might be the weirdest combination of buyers I’ve ever gotten.”

“Oh, we’re not –“ Nancy started, but Steve interrupted.

“I am,” he said, ignoring the looks from Nancy and Jonathan. He pulled out his wallet and made eye contact with Eddie. “I’ll –“ He paused, unsure of what to say. He’d never done this himself before. “I’ll take some weed. Uh – a joint? Uh. How much?”

Eddie looked at him with a furrowed brow and a frown on his lips. “Are you wearing a wire?”

Steve snorted a laugh. “Dude. What kind of operation do you think is being run in Nowhere fucking Indiana where a 17-year-old is wearing a wire for a drug bust on your tiny fucking lunchkit –“

“Okay! Okay,” Eddie conceded with a barely concealed laugh. Jonathan was openly laughing behind him, and Steve recognized the amused look on Nancy’s face.

Steve sighed when Eddie just kept looking at him like he didn’t believe him. “I’m being serious. If I’m not gonna have a social life anymore at least let me be high for it.”

“Amen,” Jonathan said quietly, and Steve choked down his laugh.

Finally, after a few more moments of silence where Eddie stared at his face, seemingly deciding whether or not to trust him, Eddie sighed and picked up his lunchbox. Steve let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.

“I’ll sell you a gram for twenty-five bucks. Do you want pre-rolled, or…” Eddie trailed off.

“Uh,” Steve said, unsure. “Yeah, that’ll probably be easier.”

Eddie opened his lunchbox and got to work rolling the joint. “Usually, it’s your friends I sell to,” he said conversationally.

“Not my friends,” Steve corrected, then awkwardly added, “I don’t have any of those.”

“We’re your friends, Steve,” Nancy said, and Steve could hear the pity that coated her voice.

“Didn’t you, like, dump him for him?” Eddie asked her, pointing first and Steve, then at Jonathan. Nancy huffed, took a breath to begin talking but Steve cut her off before she could begin.

"That's not what happened. Tommy and Carol told everyone that because they're pissed off that I don't wanna hang out with them anymore. Me and Nance are fine. Me and Jonathan are fine. Look. I know you're overcharging me so badly right now but I don't care enough to fight you on it. Can you please just sell me the weed?"

Eddie frowned. “Fifteen.”

Steve looked at him incredulously.

"What can I say? You guilt tripped me and I'm a sucker.” Eddie held out the joint. “Just. Take it."

"Thanks, Munson." Steve said, taking it and stuffing it in a zipper inside his backpack.

Eddie closed and shut his lunchbox, then stepped away from the table and gave a little bow. "King Steve."

"Just Steve."

Eddie looked at him through calculating eyes. "Just Steve, then."

The three of them waited until Eddie was far enough away before taking seats at the table.

Nancy started after a short awkward beat. "Look, start hanging out with us at school. I have mutual friends with Robin, somehow we'll get it through her head that you aren't a bad guy and then it's just a matter of winning her over again -"

"It really isn't like that; I’ve told you a million times, she's my best friend.” Steve said. “And I already just started fucking crying in front of her, I think the ship has sailed."

"Don’t say that, man," Jonathan said. "Just… give it time. Let the school get used to the new you. Maybe you can figure out if she's got a job and apply wherever she works and do whatever you did at Starcourt to make her like you."

Steve sighed. He already knew where Robin worked; she'd told him about the job she had before Scoops. "She's working at a hair salon as a receptionist right now."

"Sorry, they let Robin be in charge of answering phones and setting up appointments?" Nancy asked with an incredulous giggle.

"She doesn't last long," Steve admitted with a little laugh.

The bell rang, interrupting them and signaling the start of another day. Steve sighed to himself and stood, following Nancy and Jonathan into the school. At least he had somewhere to sit at lunch now.

And the chance to get high tonight.

#steddie #stranger things #steddie big bang #steddie bang #steddiebang23 #my fic #time travel fic

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otrtbs · 3 months

Note

Hiii ! I had already asked that question, but I will ask it again because you didn't respond to it last time but at the same time it's harmless (I think), and if you don't respond again then I guess it isn't harmless 😭

I was wondering how you got into art ? Have you ever made art yourself like painting, drawing, and sculpture and decided to study that, or do you really just love art history and never had touched a pen to draw in your life? And how did your family react ?

And another question was were you in school, or work when you were writing AHB (I mean in general when you are writing actually) and if so, how did you find time to write and read? Because as a writer I feel like an important part is to read but when I do write I don't read, and I know that a big part of that is just school and I don't have time, but maybe you got a magic trick or smth?

hi! yeah it is harmless i am just SEVERELY behind on answering asks these days but i am not intentionally ignoring you/anyone. i am just behind on asks, sorry! also i get rambly under the cut so this is a warning!

as far as how i got into art, i used to volunteer at my local art museum when i was in high school!! and during that time i got to talk to a bunch of curators and educators and i was like,,,,, 'yeah. i wanna do this'

i am NOT artistic at all,,, i can't draw or paint to save my life el oh el. i had to take a fine arts course as an undergrad in uni which was fairly rudimentary ,,, just exploring different art mediums,,, color theory,, etc. and i was SO BAD at it,, so. bad. we had to bring in our art projects for critique and i still have nightmares about that...oof.

as far as my family support,,,, also el oh el. uhm,, no one was very thrilled with my life decisions to say the least...but i do not care! it's my life to live! then when my sister went to uni and said she wanted to be a biomedical engineer major n maybe go to med school,, well they put all their attention on her so we move!

also yes!! i was in school while i was writing ahb! i was in my final year of undergrad, i worked full time as a resident assistant at my university and i worked part time at a call center (<- WORST JOB OF MY FUCKING LIFE) and sometimes i would pick up extra shifts at my university's campus store because i was paying my own way through undergrad and so honestly.... the truth is i hardly slept. which is not healthy and i do not recommend that you do that at all. by any means. thankfully, because it was my final year i had some easy "blow off" classes in addition to upper division art history courses so the workload was lighter than previous semesters.

but my RA job would put me "on call" which meant i was the one an entire building of 500+ college girls would call if there was emergency of any kind (could be something serious like a fire or a strange man in the girls dorms or someone needing serious medical attention to something miniscule someone's fire alarm running out of batteries). and we would be on call for 24 hours on the weekends or 5pm to 8 am on weekdays. and if you missed a call because you were asleep you would be fired immediately no questions asked. and bc i got my housing and a lot of my income from that job,,,, i would get so paranoid and stressed abt missing a phone call that i wouldn't sleep at all when i was on call. so i did a lot of my writing for ahb! during those times at like 5am while i was on call. i was also required to work 10-15 hours a week at the front at my university through my RA position and it was a 24 hour desk and i got the night shift where literally nobody would come in. i'd work 10pm-2am on tuesdays and thursdays and then a few hours on saturday (But those were normally busy). and i would write my fanfic then!!! (should've been doing school work ,,, but alas) <- so for the "sHE CoULd'vE aT lEasT EdiTed iT" crowd who have beef with ahb!,,, i was too busy trying to graduate uni and working 3 jobs to do anything but post. so eat dirt.

additionally, i didn't read fanfic when i was writing ahb! for the most part. i was reading a ton before i started writing and then i think i was only able to keep up with the choices updates and picked up heavy fanfic reading again once ahb! was finished.

so no magic tricks from me unfortunately :(( i think it was only feasible bc i was operating on like zero sleep and my course load was light the final semester, and i got lucky with my job hours !! otherwise,, i didn't really do anything else. like i stopped reading, stopped watching shows,, etc,, if i had free time i would be on the google doc hahaha

#asks #and that's my life story good lord

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avatarmerida · 2 years

Text

Mushrooms & Manuals

Wholesome huntlow movie night. Don’t tell me you hate the title unless you have a better idea. I would also like a better idea. Blame any issues on me being on mobile k thanks.

———

“Oh, before I forget, is it okay if I use the living room tonight?” Willow asked as she sat down at the breakfast table.

“Yeah, sounds fine to me,” replied Luz as she added more sugar on her cereal. “Whatcha got planned Will?”

“There’s a new documentary on rare fungi premiering tonight,” beamed Willow. “And, not to spoil it, but I hear it has some great shots of Laccaria amethystina.”

“That sounds... perfect for you,” said Amity fondly, happy her friend had found something to be excited about. As tense and stressful as things were, they had all fond little things to enjoy and distract themselves with. During the day, all their energy went into finding a way back home but Mrs. Noceda has insisted they allow breaks for hobbies and fun, lest their burn themselves out.

Willow nodded enthusiastically. “It starts at seven,” she went on. “If anyone wants to join me!”

“Seven? Oh darn, that’s when Luz and I were gonna go try frozen beverages at the gasoline market,” said Amity, not really too heartbroken about not watching a mushroom documentary.

“That’s fine, what about you Hunter?” Willow asked the boy beside her who was currently focused on finding the perfect milk to cereal ratio.

“Hm? Oh, yeah uh a documentary?” He snapped back into the conversation. “It’s educational right? Sounds like a good time!”

“Awesome! What about you Gus?”

Gus’ eyes darted between his oldest friend and the boy who was so fixated on her at this moment that he didn’t realize or care that he was absolutely drowning his cereal. “Ya know, I think I’m gonna pass,” said Gus. “Vee was gonna take me to see one of those human stores that only sells shoes. What a weird business model!”

Willow giggled. “Okay, you have fun,” she smiled and got up from the table to take her bowl to the sink. “Hunter, I’ll see you at seven then?”

“S-seven it is!” He confirmed, a little too enthusiastically for his liking.

“Alright then; it’s a date!” Willow said, leaving to begin her part of the day’s research.

Hunter watched her with heavy eyes until she had completely left the room, resting his hand on his cheek fondly as if watching the sunset. He didn’t realize it, but he always did this. Little did he know, everyone was watching him watch her and when Willow was safely out of earshot, the rest of the table said in unison:

“Oooooooooh,”

Hunter leapt back at that, forced back into reality. He cleared his throat, trying to save face. “What?”

“Yooooou’ve got a date with Willooooow,” sang Luz with a mouthful of cereal.

“So?” Hunter sputtered. “It’s not my first date with Willow; we’ve all had dates with Willow. We see each other nearly everyday. So what?”

They all stared at him like he was on fire. “Uh, what?” Said Amity, confused.

“Dude, you do know what a date is, don’t you?” Gus asked.

“Yes, Gus I have seen a calendar you know,” scoffed Hunter smugly. “Today is the 13th, it’s also a Thursday.”

He was met with blank stares.

“What?” Amity repeated.

“¿Cómo es tan inteligente pero también el más tonto?” mumbled Luz.

“No, Hunter,” Gus started to explain. “Going on a date with someone is different than seeing them on a day of the week.”

“You literally just said the same thing twice,” said Hunter.

“Hmmm maybe an example would help,” thought Gus. “You know how Amity and Luz spend a lot of time together?”

“Yeah?”

“When they do something together, just the two of them, that’s a date,” said Gus.

“Gus, you’re not making sense,” said Hunter. “Everything has to be done on a date, it’s how we track time and events. What, is today like a holiday?”

“No, no,” Gus sighed. “But when Luz and Amity are alone on one of their dates, do you want to be around them?”

“Ew, no,” replied Hunter, sticking out his tongue. “They’re always holding hands and publicly displaying affection.”

“Hey! We’re adorable!” Insisted Luz, putting her arm around Amity.

“Debatable,” said Hunter with a small chuckle. “So what, your definition of a date is two people being obnoxious together?”

“No, it’s two people spending time together,” said Gus, hoping he was making progress. “Alone. Who like each other... romantically.”

Hunter’s eyes widened when it suddenly clicked for him. “What? No! The Captain asking m-me? Pfff!” Hunter panicked. “There’s nothing romantic about fungi!”

Before anyone could interject, he remembered exactly who he was taking about.

“No this is Willow we’re talking about, of course there is!” He was starting to spiral. “Especially if it’s Laccaria amethystina, even I know how romantic that species is!”

“I can’t tell if he understands or not,” whispered Amity to Luz. “Are we sure he also knows what ‘romance’ means?”

“Of course I do!” Hunter said loudly, hearing her. “I just never... never...oh!” He buried his face in his hands and groaned.

“Aw, hey man I never meant to stress you out,” said Gus sympathetically. “I was only teasing. You’ve got nothing to worry about; trust me. Tonight it’s just gonna be you and Willow spending time together. You’ve done that before!”

“Yeah I guess,” Hunter grumbled, still hiding his face. “But before it just... happened. We’d split up or stray from the group. But now having something planned in advance seems... scary.”

“Well you don’t have to go if you don’t want-.”

“Shut up! Of course I wanna go!” Hunter sat up and explained, his face red. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to yell, it’s just that... I do like spending time with the Captain. I’m just worried I’ll embarrass myself. Like, what if I identify a fungi species incorrectly? She’ll think I’m an idiot!”

“Or, she’ll just correct you and appreciate you taking an interest in her interests,” said Luz. “The only mushroom I know is the kind that goes on pizza.”

“Besides, Willow would never think you’re an idiot,” assured Gus. “She likes spending time with you too. There’s nothing to worry about, pretend we didn’t say anything.”

“Then why did you have to say so much?” Hunter sighed.

———

Hunter could barely focus on the tasks he had to finish that day, his mind kept jumping to tonight. He didn’t want to ask the others what people did on dates, so he incorporated it into his reading. He went to the library and along with his usual books on magic, he sought out books about romance.

A lot of the books proved unhelpful, consisting of stories rather than instructions. He skimmed and sped through pile until he found one covered in dust that seemed to be the perfect fit.

“‘Dating for Dummies,’” read Hunter aloud to himself. “It’s perfect!”

———

The book said that first impressions were everything, something Hunter already firmly believed, and it instructed him to look his best (rule#2) and arrive early (rule #6). At six, he put in what he considered his best outfit: a golden collar shirt and a pair of brown dress pants he had found at a thrift store. It was more of what Mrs. Noceda had called a “going out” outfit so he had been saving it for a special occasion. He couldn’t think of anything more special than Willow.

At 630, once he had brushed his teeth and fixed his hair the best he could, he went downstairs and got to work in the kitchen. He gathered all of Willow’s favorite snacks and placed them on the coffee table in the living room. He made sure the TV volume was just right and that there was no glare on the screen. He made sure there was the perfect amount of pillows on the couch and debated on which side he should sit on until a little before seven, Willow strolled into the living room.

“C-Captain!” Hunter stuttered, startled and delighted by her presence (as usual). “I’ve got everything set up for the viewing!”

“Oh wow,” murmured Willow, looking at his presentation, then back at him. “It all looks so nice, you look so nice...”

He beamed at her noticing, and then saw the expression on her face.

“Oh titan, I think I’m underdressed,” she said with a forced chuckle. Hunter then noticed she was wearing her gardening clothes, old clothes Mrs. Noceda never got around to donating and didn’t mind being covered in dirt and grass stains. Her hair was frizzy, as though trying to escape her braids and her face and legs were decorated with traces of dirt. She looked radiant.

“I was just gonna go wash my hands and get the dirt out from under my nails,” she said. “But maybe I should go change-.”

“No!” said Hunter, stopping her as she turned to leave. “I mean, yes wash your hands, hygiene is important ,but if you change you’ll miss the beginning of the documentary. I think you look fine. Great. Perfect.” No word seemed to fit and yet they all did.

Willow smiled. “Thanks, I’ll be right back!”

Once she left, Hunter felt like he was going to suffocate. “Nice going Hunter!” He grumbled to himself, flinging himself down onto the couch. “You’re overdressed and you made her doubt herself. The date hasn’t even started and you’ve already blown it! You’ve broken rule #7!”

“Did you say something, Hunter?” Willow asked as she reentered the room.

He stood up and straightened his spine to properly greet her (rule #10). “No, just trying to remember what channel it was on,” he lied, he had already memorized and preset the TV.

“Oh, that’s okay I’m pretty sure I remember,” said Willow as she took a seat on the couch. Hunter suddenly couldn’t remember how close they normally sat on the couch and panicked at how close he should sit now. He swung his arms and held his breath, mentally debating whether or not sitting on the same cushion as her was too forward or preferred. He felt he was taking too much time and closed his eyes and sat down. There was a small pillow separating them, it felt appropriate.

“Oh, before I forget,” he said, reaching over to grab a bowl on the table. “I made something special for us.”

He smiled and showed her his gift (rule #3)

“Oh wow- wait, is this what I think it is?” Willow asked looking at what he held.

“Yes!” He confirmed, delighted she instantly knew what it was. “Local edible fungi! I thought it would be a fun themed treat.”

“Hunter, that’s so sweet,” gushed Willow. “This must’ve taken all day to find!”

“This? No!” He lied. It had.

Willow took a piece before turning on the TV and squealed as the intro began to play. From there, Willow’s eyes were glued to the screen and Hunter’s alternated between the show and her reaction.

They would talk during commercial breaks, with Willow giving commentary on what they’d seen and overtime Hunter summoned the courage to chime in. Then he’d progress to asking her about herself (rule #4), not anticipating she’d ask him in return. It was just small talk (rule #4.5) but he got more comfortable.

But it was during the show where’d he let his nerves get the back of him. Trying to pay attention while also be hyper aware of how close she was to him proved to be a challenge. He wondered how he was doing, what she was thinking, and then also worrying about not paying attention in case she quizzed him. He also felt they were too far apart. She had taken the pillow between them held it against her chest, resting her chin on it. Surely that was sign?

He didn’t want to risk making a noise with the couch springs by shifting his weight or scooting closer to her. But then he remembered a tip the book had recommend for this exact situation.

He summoned his courage and raised his arm in the air, pretending to yawn. And it came back down, he lowered it at an angle so that when it went back down, it would gently land across her shoulders. It was so smooth, he-

“Are you bored?” Willow asked in response to his yawn, turning to him causing him to awkwardly stop his arm at a 45 degree angle.

“Uh, what? No, I-.”

“Because it’s okay if you are,” she said sincerely. “I know it’s pretty long and it’s not for everyone, I appreciate you watching as much as you have-.”

“Captain, I’m having a great time,” he said softly, returning his arm to his side, noticing the concerned look on her face. Was it possible she was just as nervous as he was? “I-I guess I’m just tired, not bored at all! Not sleepy either, more like comfortable. I promise!”

“No problem,” she said, playing with her hair. “I’m tired too, this is really nice after a long day.” She sighed contently and pulled her legs onto the couch, leaning over as she did. Her head leaning back and tilted as it landed on Hunter’s shoulder. The motion was so flawless and natural, Hunter couldn’t tell if she had done it on purpose. He tried to relax his shoulder to make it more comfortable for her, but he wasn’t very skilled at relaxing. He had to remind himself to breath, feeling as though he was melting... but in a good way.

———

“-because he was a fungi!” Hunter finished telling a joke he had read on the stick of what Luz called a ‘popsicle.’ “Haha! Get it? Like fun guy? As if the mushroom possessed person like qualities similar to a humorous man and therefore fun to spend time with?”

Willow laughed, she had heard this joke before but the passionate way Hunter told it made her genuinely enjoy it, and he could tell her laugh was genuine. It was the last commercial break before the end and for some reason Willow hoped it would last forever.

Hunter smiled at her reaction, feeling as though he was winning. He knew there was no competition, but his heart was racing the way he had only done once before when they had won the flyer derby game.

“Do all dates involve this much fungus discussion?” Hunter asked, chuckling with her.

“I don’t know,” Willow said, removing her glasses to wipe tears from her eyes, she had been laughing so hard. “I’ve never been on one.”

Hunter found that hard to believe. Wait-never? He heart suddenly bear so fast it froze. Did she mean “never” as in before now or “never” including now... which implied that this actually wasn’t a date? He gulped and frantically tried to remember what rule covered this.

“Really? Wow,” he somehow managed to say. “I mean, I don’t know what they talk about on dates either. So if we ever went on a date I guess we wouldn’t say anything then, Huh? Be-because we don’t know what to say, right? Heh.”

“I think we’d find something to talk about,” said Willow with a flip of her hair. “I like talking to you, I’m sure it would be hard to stay quiet.”

“Oh, well same,” he said. “But about you.”

“So I think both of us would do just fine on a date,” she said confidently. Did she mean on a date together or a date in general?

They finished the documentary and sat on the couch for awhile longer discussing their thoughts. A promo aired for the documentary premiering the following night about molds.

“Does that look like something you’d wanna see?” Hunter asked. “We could do this again tomorrow! I don’t think I’ll be able to do another themed snack for that though...”

“Let me try and think of something,” Willow smiled, the kind that reached her eyes and scrunched her nose. “Maybe we can watch a movie after. Your pick.”

“Sounds fun,” said Hunter with a nod. “It’s a date?”

“It’s a date.”

#huntlow #huntlow fanfiction #winter toh #toh #the owl house #willow park #hunter wittebane

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danversxluthor · 10 months

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The Super Blues (Pt 2) -- REWRITE

Kara and Lena meant to talk to Lori the morning after the parent teacher conference, but once again life got in the way. Supergirl was needed at a massive industrial fire near the wharf and Lena was called in for an emergency board meeting on a critical therapeutic acquisition. Their parents’ temporary absence wasn’t an uncommon occurrence and neither of the Luthor-Danvers kids were surprised or offended by it. The girls simply went about their days getting ready and then heading off to yet another day of school.

As the week went on, more Supergirl emergencies sprung up and the acquisition discussion turned into multiple days of intense negotiations to seemingly no avail. As much as Lena and Kara were concerned about Lori and wanted to talk to her, they just couldn’t seem to find the ideal time. Alex was even helping out by driving El to and from her speech therapy, which also served the purpose of checking up on Lori.

Finally, Thursday morning rolled around, and the outside world seemed to quiet down. Kara took the opportunity to make her famous blueberry pancakes before her girls were up and getting ready for school. While Kara cooked, Lena made sure the girls were up and moving. To no surprise, Ellie was already dressed and packed up for school.

“Good morning sweetheart” Lena greeted from the doorway. El went to wave but corrected herself seeing her mom’s raised eyebrow.

“‘Morn-ing” El greeted, “can you sign my per-per-miss-ion form?” El asked handing out the piece of paper.

Lena quickly read through the form. “Oh, the science museum, that's wonderful El. Of course.” Lena signs her name and notes the date in her smartphone. “Now get downstairs before Jeju eats all the pancakes by herself.” And with that, El was off.

Lori has never been a morning person and has always put up a fight to get out of bed, especially on a school day.

Knock knock

Lena waits, not hearing any movement or seeing any lights flicker on under the doorway.

“Lori…” Lena calls before knocking yet again. “Lori, come on sweetheart, it's time to get up for school.” Lena waits again, but after hearing no movement, she opens the door to find Lori curled up under the covers looking like a lump on the bed. After flicking on the lights, Lena makes her way over to the bed and sits gently, slowly peeling back the covers.

“Lori, it's time to get up baby.” Lena rubs her hand up and down her daughters back slowly rousing Lori from her sleep. Lori curls in on herself further and smooshes her face into her pillow to hide from the uninvited light.

“Come on Lor, you don't want to be late for school.” Lori grumbles and starts to roll out of bed, her golden hair a complete mess. Lena kisses Lori on the forehead and walks out to give her daughter some privacy to get ready for the day.

“Oh, and better hurry, Jeju made her famous pancakes.” Lena calls from the hallway. Despite sleeping for over nine hours the teen is still exhausted. Lori makes her way to the bathroom to try and salvage some sort of acceptable look for the day. She’s glad for the school uniform - one less thing to think about. Lori pulls her unruly golden hair into a messy bun and washes her face. She looks over at the makeup but doesn’t have the energy to make the effort. Who really cares anyway. As long as she doesn't stand out she’s fine.

El has finished her fifth pancake by the time Lori makes her way down the stairs.

“Morning Lor,” Kara calls out, “how many pancakes for you?”

“I don’t know, whatever's left I guess,” Lori pours herself a large thermos of black coffee and sits next to El. She sips at her coffee knowing well enough that no amount of caffeine can bring her out of the exhaustion.

“How are the pancakes kiddo?” Kara calls over her shoulder as she goes about cleaning the dishes. After receiving no response, she tries again. “Lori, how are the pancakes? I didn’t burn them, did I?” And still no answer.

Lena looks up from her tablet to see Lori staring out the window, tired eyes unfocused. Kara and Lena share a concerned look. El goes to get Lori’s attention, but Lena smoothly intercepts her.

“Ellie, why don’t you get your book bag and shoes ready.” Lena suggests, eyes not leaving Lori. El, sensing something else far more serious is going on, quickly makes her exit.

“Lori,” Lena says as she takes El’s seat and slowly brushes her hand against Lori’s shoulder. Kara has now stopped washing the dishes and is looking across the island at her eldest. The touch seems to have brought Lori back to the kitchen.

“Hmm?” Lori’s eyes refocus and her gaze meets her Jeju’s across the island. “What was that?” Lori asks in a monotone.

“Are you feeling ok, Lor?” Kara asks.

“Yeah, just a bit tired I guess.” Lori explains as she picks up her fork and starts cutting the pancakes in front of her. She isn’t really hungry though, just doesn’t want to see Jeju's concerned face anymore. Lori knows she’s not fine, she knows she is more than just tired, but she doesn’t know what she is. And how can she possibly put something so minor on her parents who are already so overstretched. No, Lori knows she has to hold it together.

“Do you want to stay home today?” Lena asks in a soft tone. “I can stay with you. My schedule is completely empty, so it would be just you and me. We can stay in and cuddle and watch movies or we could sneak out for lunch, maybe even see Aunt Alex?” Lori continues to push around the pancakes on her plate, half listening to her mom.

“I’m fine. El and I should probably get going.” Lori leaves the cut up but uneaten pancakes on her plate and she starts getting up from the counter.

“Ok, Lori, but you can always call us from school if you need to come home and rest,” Kara comments. Alex had reported to Kara that Lori barely left her room during the week. Kara didn’t know what to make of this. Lori was looking rather pale and warn down.

“Sure thing, Jeju,” Lori assured, trying to sound livelier to ease her parents' obvious concern.

“We’re just worried and we love you. You can come to us with anything.” Lena says.

“I promise I’m totally fine,” Lori says assures her parents again, this timing adding a small smirk, but the look on her moms’ faces tell her they’re not convinced. Lori walks briskly out of the kitchen to avoid any further caring remarks that just make her feel worse and worse about being an unnecessary burden. A few seconds later, Ellie sneaks through the kitchen after her sister.

—

“Kelly, I have no idea what to do,” Lena says in exasperation. “She isn’t talking to us. She didn’t even want to stay home from school. She’s barely eating. At least she’s keeping up with school, but that's always been a walk in the park for her. What do we do?” Both Kara and Lena were in Lena’s office talking with Kelly on speaker phone. After this morning, the pair knew that it wasn’t as easy ask talking to Lori, especially when Lori had no interest in talking to them.

“You’re right to be concerned, and you’re doing the right thing by trying to talk it out.” Kelly reassures the pair. “Ultimately, Lori has to be open up on her own. Sometimes that's hard, especially for a teenager. Keep letting her know you’re here for her no matter how hard she pushes you away. It's also probably best to keep an eye on her. I know you both have difficult schedules, but to the extent at least one of you can be around in the morning or after school when the kids are home, that would be helpful.”

“I know you told me not to, but I went on webMD and did some digging on team mental health. And... do you think she might have an eating disorder or hurt herself or…” Kara asks, swallowing her words hard. Lena squeezes her wife’s hand, dreading the thought that Lori would resort to such a thing.

“Lori is in a unique and volatile phase of life. Teen hormones and emotions are in constant flux, it’s difficult to say what's going on without having more information.” Kelly explains. “WebMD can be a great resource, Kara, but it can lead to some quick and often misleading conclusions. For right now, just keep an eye on Lori and make sure she’s eating enough, bathing, sleeping, etc. and, Kara, maybe take a break from webMD.”

“Thank you, Kelly. We really appreciate you taking the time out of your schedule.” Lena says as she rubs her temples.

“Anytime. I’m always happy to help. Love you both.”

“Thanks again Kel. Love you.”

---

As the school day went on, Lori was feeling more and more out of it. She felt guilty for being so short with her moms this morning and annoyed at herself for worrying them. Lori made it to lunch and was out behind the gym, when she realized the bell had already rung for next period.

Despite already being late, Lori didn’t move. She stayed staring up at the sky wondering what it would be like to just disappear. She could do it. She could leave. She could get away from everything. So, Lori got up, feeling far removed from everything around her and started walking. Not back into the school, but out into the city. She walked a block without being stopped and then another and another. Before she knew it, she was across town and headed over the bridge. She couldn’t feel her legs and barely noticed her surroundings. She just kept walking.

—

“Ma’am, the schools on the line for you,” Liz, Lena’s new assistant, called in.

“Thank you, Liz, please patch them through.” Lena was already preparing to pack up, guessing that Lori finally took them up on the offer to stay home for the day.

“This is Lena,” she answered in her typical business tone.

“Mrs. Luthor-Danvers, hello, this is Principal Higgins from National City Prep. I’m sorry to call you at work, but it seems Lori has not checked into her past two classes.” The message is far from what Lena anticipated and her heart rate starts to pick up.

“She hasn’t checked in? Is her car in the lot?” Lena questions as Kara lands on her balcony having sensed the spike in heart rate.

“Her car is still here at the school. Our security team has reviewed footage and she didn’t leave from either of the main school entrances. We’ll keep an eye out for her and call with any updates.”

“Thank you.” Lena says before hanging up the phone and grabbing onto Kara like her life depends on it and letting her tears fall.

“We’re going to find her Lee, I promise.” Kara holds her wife.

TO BE CONTINUED...

#baby!danvers #little!luthor #supercorp #kara danvers #lena luthor #supergirl

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coochiequeens · 5 months

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While I'm not sad that an industry that exploits women is filing for bankruptcy I am pissed that a lot media will identify the new owner of the franchise as a woman and feed into negative stereotypes about women and money.

A 2022 Miss Universe judge is revealing why the organizer behind the event has filed for bankruptcy just days before the next main event.

"I think the outrage about a trans woman coming to Miss Universe and preaching, 'Bring the power back to women,' couldn't be more of an oxymoron," television host and reporter Emily Austin said Thursday on "Varney & Co."

"I think her company in Thailand has its own financial issues," she continued, "but socially and morally it's just wrong. And people are starting to catch on that."

Thai business tycoon and transgender activist Anne Jakrajutatip of the JKN Global Group bought the Miss Universe organization for $20 million in 2022. Jakrajutatip, who has international fame as a transgender celebrity, described the purchase at the time as "a strong, strategic addition to our portfolio."

But one year later, the franchise itself appears unstable

2022 Miss Universe judge Emily Austin, right, said on "Varney & Co." that the event organizer's bankruptcy was "absolutely" caused by the transgender owner's "socially and morally" wrong controversy. (Fox News)

A public document sent to the Stock Exchange of Thailand from JKN Global Group declared "JKN Global Group Public Company Limited (the ‘Company’) has filed a petition for business rehabilitation with the Central Bankruptcy Court under the Bankruptcy Act B.E. 2483 (1940) (as amended) (the ‘Bankruptcy Act’) on November 8, 2023, the Central Bankruptcy Court has subsequently issued an order to accept the petition for business rehabilitation of the Company on November 9, 2023."

The Miss Universe Organization published a subsequent announcement declaring that due to "the current financial situation… we confirm that Miss Universe 2023 will be held in El Salvador on 18 November 2023, where a top notch experience provided to our fans will remain our top priorities." [sic]

For the first time, this year’s Miss Universe pageant is slated to feature at least two transgender contestants — Miss Portugal, a flight attendant named Marina Machete, and Rikkie Kollé, the first transgender Miss Netherlands. Spain’s Ángela Ponce was the pageant’s first trans contestant in 2018, but did not advance to the finals.

Austin argued Thursday her belief that transgender women should not be permitted to compete in the high-caliber pageant.

"If you want to empower women, the way to do it is not demeaning women and belittling women by allowing men, or biological men who became a woman, to come into an industry like sports, like beauty pageants, come all dolled-up plastic — [they're] beautiful men, by the way — and start dominating women's industries. That's the opposite of women's empowerment," Austin explained.

The 2022 judge added that many decisions are based around a contestant’s interview, and expressed how a transgender woman’s life experiences may not be comparable to a biological woman’s.

"The interview comes from your life story and how as a woman, you've evolved and you want to change the world. So if you grew up a man and you decided to become a woman, I don't think you have a true woman's, feminine story. You don't know what period cramps feel like, I'm sorry. You don't know what it's like to walk down a stage during that time of the month and really say: this is femininity," Austin said.

"You are a man who identifies as a woman, and that's fine," she added. "But don't start coming into women's industries — have a line, have a boundary. That's the problem."

#Miss Universe #Anne Jakrajutatip #JKN Global Group #bankruptcy

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vacantvisage · 7 months

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— ABOUT

My name is Vladimir. 30s. He/El. Trans. Latino.

Art & Fic sideblog. 18+ only.

Art Commissions Open !

Oathbound Update on Thursdays!

Main blog: @nightmarist Aesthetic blog: @romanticfatale AO3: AkbalKiin BSKY: DraculDantes Support: Cashapp , Ko-Fi, Paypal

Please consider reblogging/commenting ✨💖

Fic Requests:

Feel free to request something !

My Ships!

I'm fairly open to a lot, but my general rules include:

At least 2 characters (more is fine)

You can be specific but I need at least a word, theme, or kink.

Look at my Green, Yellow, and Red limits please.

Clowning will be deleted, including about darkfic.

Green - things I tend to favor: Angst, Whump, Guro, Dubcon, CNC, Psychological, Character Studies, Non-ships, Slice of Life, Adventure, Action, Fight Scenes, Trans!Characters*, Hierophilia, Somniphilia, Humiliation, Horror, Power Dynamics, Monsters/Terato, BDSM, various kinks and paraphilia

Yellow - I have to be in a particular mood:(may take time to fill) Incest, watersports, noncon, oviposition, emeto, necro, PiV, F/M, Astarion.

Red - Please do not request: Scat, Pregnancy, Genital Mutilation, Foursome and Orgies No children including SFW (sorry to fans of found family tiefling kids & daddy halsin)

Anything else I'm generally neutral on or just didn't think about. Feel free to ask! I won't kinkshame even if its a squick for me.

*For trans characters, feel free to specify any sex characteristics, esp for smut. Not every trans man has top surgery and some of us want or have phallo, meta, top with straps, or power bottom.

Don't be weird about Raphael being bottom to Haarlep by using bottoming as a means of emasculation, as synonymous for submission, equating submission and/or bottoming to his supposed being "bad at sex," or other ridiculous notions. That's just repackaged machismo homophobia.

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huginsmemory · 25 days

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Tag game! Tag nine people you would like to know better

I was tagged by @jaz--hands 💕

Last song: come over by Noah Kahan. I've been listening to the album stick season, most of which I really like. His other stuff is fine but not anything of note from what I've heard of it tho aksjsksks.

Favourite colour: don't really have favourites but I love a good green, the colours of moss and plants and being in lush nature :)

Currently watching: one piece, slowly making my way through! I'm nearly finished dressrosa now. I'm also clinging to my seat every Thursday for the new dunmeshi ep; I read it in the summer and am ecstatic to be able to watch it when it comes out. I like to watch it in the evening after the day is done sprawled out on the couch with a cup (or two if I top it up) of sake and an umeboshi or two to nibble on. Very relaxing.

Sweet/savory/spicy: all three! I love things that are all three. I have a decent spiciness tolerance but not super high. If it really came to a draw, I generally prefer savory, as sweet things can be too sweet for me.

Relationship status: goin' steady with all my wonderful hobbies. Being on the ace and aro spectrum I have basically zero interest in pursuing anything with anyone.

Current obsession: tragically right now I'm a bit in the ass crack of the couch cushions for obsessions; Trigun and vashwood had me going for a good part for the last year. I've picked up one piece and dunmeshi which fills some of the void but I'm not properly raving mad about it or any of the character dynamics (excited for sure and at time it's gotten close, but not chew through my leg bonkers, which usually requires tragic characters and relationships). So I've been hopping from characters and ships within one piece and revisiting old fandoms in search of that spark/addictive high, which I'm not really getting to my horror.

Non-fandom related I'm currently into carnivorous plants and a plant place near me stocks them, so I've got a bunch which I tend to both anxiously and with pride (sundews seem to hate me, nepenthes on the other hand...). I also was briefly obsessed (it's mellowed a bit now) with tankscaping those asian 'goldfish' pots, of which I now have two, but only one up and running (the second I've been too busy), but hopefully with the semester ending I can get the second up.

Last thing you googled: mmmm I think dispel magic dnd 5e, since I was just at a friend's playing dnd. My character accidentally caused a crack in reality and was trying to fix it, and I was supposed to give a description of what the spell looks like (spoiler alert: its not actually given a description for what it looks like)

To tag: anyone who sees this and wants to do it! And: @hellebore-petall @mothghhost @origami10 @crowlore @walluno @forgedobsidian @el-the-cell @eshtaresht @cookies-and-doom @garrandia

#tag games #tag game #hugin answers

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thewolvesof1998 · 10 months

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Alright, Cowboy, Go Get 'Em

Okay the first Chapter is posted!! (1/3 Chapter, 5.6K, E)

Eddie isn’t mopping. He’s having a drink at his local bar, by himself that’s all. He’s not thinking about the divorce papers sitting in his bedside drawer where Christopher won’t find them. He sighs, downing the last of his whiskey. He’s waving down the bartender, signally for another when a hand comes down on his shoulder.

A familiar voice says, “Eddie Diaz is that you?”

Eddie turns to take in Josh, one of his best friends from high school whom he hasn’t seen since before he deployed the first time. He looked good, he’d lost most of his youth softness, and a full beard where he’d only been able to grow whiskers before.

“Josh? Man, it’s been so long” Eddie says, pulling him into a one-handed hug, something he wouldn’t have done if wasn’t already on his third drink of the night.

Josh laughs, “Yeah, didn’t know you were back in El Paso”

Eddie grimaces, guilt sitting heavy in his stomach, he hadn’t reached out to any of his friends from high school after returning, he hadn’t wanted them to see how much his life had fallen apart. The bartender places his drink down in front of him and he takes a drag for courage.

“I’ve been back about six months now, I’d meant to reach out but…”

“It’s okay man, life gets in the way,” Josh shrugs, “How’s Shannon? You guys have a kid right?” Josh sits down on the stool next to him and Eddie tries not to hate Josh for bringing up exactly what he’d been trying to forget.

“Yeah Christopher, he’s five now, but uh me and Shannon aren’t-she left” Eddie tries for nonchalance but from the pitying look on Josh’s face he doesn’t succeed.

“I’m sorry man”

“Nah it's fine, it’s been-ah six months, I’m over it,” Eddie says, Josh rises an eyebrow. He wasn’t really lying, he had been over it, been understanding, she’d gone to look after her dying mum and he was the one who’d left first, that was until the papers had shown up on Monday and there was nothing about dual custody in them. Shannon hadn’t just left him, she’d left Christopher.

“Sure, and it has nothing to do with you drinking alone at two pm on a Thursday?”

“I just needed a break,” Eddie admits, it was probably a bit too honest for a conversation with a guy he hasn’t seen in almost six years but Josh just nods.

“What you need is to have a little bit of fun”

Eddie snorts, “I have three jobs and a kid, I don’t have time for fun”

“What are you doing Saturday?”

“I have Chris” When he’s not working, which is not often, he spends as much time with Chris as possible.

“Me and the boys are going to the rodeo, come with us, Chris is five right? My Misses has a kid about that age, bring him over for a play date she’ll look after him for a few hours.”

“I don’t know”

“Look, I know we haven’t talked in years so I might be crossing over the line but if you run yourself into the ground you're not going to be any good for your kid okay? You need to have some fun and let off some steam, or you’ll end up here every day like Bill over there” Josh nods over to the town drunk who’s barely staying upright on his stool at the other end of the bar.

Eddie sighs and nods, “Yeah, yeah your right, okay, Saturday I’ll be there.”

Josh claps his hand on Eddie’s shoulder again, “You won’t regret it.”

Eddie highly doubts that but he also knows that the spiralling he’s been doing isn’t healthy and talking to Josh has been the highlight of his week so he’d give it a go.

Continue Reading on A03

Let me know if you want me to tag you in any updates to do with this fic!

@wildlife4life you asked for the cowboy smut...

#buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #9-1-1 fic #ao3 #thewolvesof1998 writes #cowboy Buck #cowboy smut

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lovebillyhargrove · 8 months

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Wake me up when July is around

Chapter 6

Chapter 7/?

***

Remember the yellow camaro, a glimpse of which we got in the Halloween party episode? I do.

And, imo, Steven extremely frustrated, sexually.

Also, Max hasn't met El yet.

***

On Monday Billy puts the tray on the table where Andy's having lunch with his girlfriend, takes a seat and asks:

"Your car runs okay now?"

"Yeah, man. You did a great job. No more funny noises or anything."

Billy knows that, but he's just checking.

"When's the race then?"

"Uhm .. Thursday? .. Friday?"

On Thursday Billy's working at the garage, on Friday some Susan's relatives from a nearby town are coming for dinner, so Neil has made it very clear - no plans for Friday evening. Gotta stay home and pretend to be a perfect family.

"Busy. Saturday?"

Andy's looking at Tina for confirmation and she nods.

"Yeah, alright. Evening time?"

"Anything after 4."

They decide to make it at six thirty, perfect time in terms of light. The sun is not gonna be getting in the eyes, but the visibility is still gonna be great. They talk some more about the track. Tommy who's been sitting with Harrington the whole time changes tables and is joining in because of course he has to, how can preparation for a car race between Hawkins High students can happen without him taking active part in it. Billy notices King Steve does not like it when his jester wanders off.

He gets distracted for a split second because

The King's pout is an entertaining sight.

But he quickly regains his focus.

The three boys choose an approximately seven-mile-long stretch of the road, starting from the abandoned Brimborn steelworks factory till the bridge over the Fall Creek. The track is almost a straight line with four or five curves, which aren't too tricky. Boys wanna rev the engines, but it's not Formula 1, there is no need to make it too dangerous. They will need people at the start, and at the finish. The road is on the outskirts of Hawkins, and rarely used, so the chance of running into cops is very little. As well as the chance of risking having a car coming towards you. Also, the guys who are gonna be waiting at the bridge can stop any vehicle coming from the other side of it, apologize for the inconvenience and politely ask to wait till the race is finished. No-one wants to come face to face with two wild teenagers' cars speeding on both lanes in your direction.

The Fall Creek bridge is old and has only one lane. Two cars can't possibly fit in there. Whoever's on it first, wins.

They are racing for the win, but also, to make it more interesting, for a six-pack. Tommy says he'll let everyone who might be interested in watching a race know, and people are gonna bring beer, so that everyone can celebrate, and at that all major details have been settled.

***

Nothing really happens this week, Billy doesn't even bug Harrington during basketball practice that much. Can't explain it, just doesn't feel like it. Maybe making each other's noses bleed has helped him let some steam out. Or maybe thinking about Harrington when Vicky's mouth was literally on his dick means that Billy should ease off for a while, let himself cool down. Besides, he's got other stuff to worry about. Like the upcoming race, he has to make sure his baby is ready. He's working Monday, Wednesday, Thursday and at the weekend, so when Vicky asks him if he wants to go out sometime this week, he has to blow her off. Billy tries to make a sad face like he's really disappointed they can't spend time together and asks for a rain check, but in his defense his plate is full these days.

Max, surprisingly, has been on her best behaviour so far this week. Always on time. He's seen her talking to the same boys from the week before, so she is hanging out with them. It's fine. Until Neil sees the whole gang. Billy just hopes she's gonna be smart about it and not bring anyone home. He should also probably warn her against mentioning "guy friends" at this family dinner on Friday. Cause the question about school and new friends will definitely be asked. If Max says, yeah my best friends here are actually four boys, they are the coolest, and she doesn't even have to mention that one of them is black, Neil .. he is not gonna be happy. Billy's not sure what's going to happen, cause he's never seen dad go after Max, everything is always Billy's fault anyways, so things might just get more chaotic in the Hargrove-Mayfield household. Or Neil's going to make Billy Max's watch dog 24/7, which is gonna be nauseating. So far he's been her chauffeur. However, Max is growing and soon, Billy's afraid, Neil will find the way to make it his problem.

It's only a year. Less than a year. Eight or nine months to hold out.

So yeah, it kinda happens that Billy robs Harrington of his attention this week, but Harrington seems to be the one asking for it? The slicked-and-styled-hair preppy boy is getting under Billy's feet, and on his nerves, the whole time during the game. As if his bloody nose wasn't enough. As if he wants more. Harrington throws subtle glances at Hargrove in the showers and during classes. The fuck he's doing that for, can anyone explain it to Billy? He probably wants to say sorry for being such a bitch about the room at the party last Saturday. When he fucking walked in on Billy getting a blowjob from Vicky in his majesty's quarters.

This is my room, get out of my room! Mommy, mommy, they are in my room, tell them to go away!

What a whiny ass.

No-one needs your apologies, you dick. Go figure your shit out with your girl better. It’s becoming more and more depressing to look at those two. They are gonna break up soon, that's for sure. There's something in them being together that just doesn't sit right.

***

The family dinner is boring and ceremonious, as expected. Why are adults always so fucking pretentious, like do they really enjoy it, do they feel comfortable like that? Or, it's not about feeling comfortable, it's about painting a pretty picture, rubbing it in the faces of others, look what a nice family we have, how well behaved the children are, how hardworking and serious the husband is and how good the housewife is. Who fucking needs it?

It's suffocating.

Billy wants to get out for a smoke, to take a breath of evening air

But he can't do even that now. Would be disrespectful, and they have zero disrespect tolerance in this house.

Susan's cousin, Aunt Shirley and her husband Uncle Dean are the hickiest hicks possible. Thank god they didn't bring their kids, if they have any.

Billy behaves himself very well in his light blue button up, which he ironed yesterday. He always takes care if his clothes himself, Susan never touches his stuff. Helps Susan set the table while Neil entertains the guests in the living room. He can see that Max is suffering too.

When they were driving home from school earlier today Billy asked Max if she had made any friends who are girls. She looked at him as if he was thoroughly stupid and exclaimed a defiant "Yeaah!??"

"What is her name? Or names?"

"Why do you care??"

"Just trying to be a good brother, Maxine."

Max scoffs

"It's not your business."

"Just tell me your friend's name."

"Just leave me alone."

"Tell me the name, and I'll leave you alone."

"It's uh .. Jenny. Jenny is her name."

"Jenny?"

"Yeah! Jenny!" Max is hissing like a cat. "The hell is your problem today?"

Billy doesn't answer this pointless question.

***

When the table is set and Susan takes meatloaf from the oven, there's usual dinner chichat

"Here you go, Dean. Shirley ..?"

Aunt Shirley is tasting the food

"Mmm, Susan, the meatloaf is amazing! Where did you get the recipe?"

"It's actually Grandma Judy's recipe, do you remember how she used to cook it?"

"I do! It's perfect!"

When the food pleasantries have been expressed, Neil and Susan talk about life in San Diego a bit and how they decided to move to Indiana to be closer to Susan's family and also because Neil wanted a quieter life.

"How did the kids handle the move?"

"Well, they seem .. fine, right, honey?"

"Do you like your new school, Billy?"

Uncle Dean is mostly busy eating, but his wife seems to be very talkative

"Yes, ma'am."

"Have you already decided what to do after it?"

Get the fuck away from here, that's for sure

"Are you planning to study or start working?"

Aunt Shirley does like asking questions, huh

"I don't think he has any chance of getting into a university. With the lifestyle he's leading? Partying and what not. Right, son?" Neil is cutting in

"Dad, it's not only .."

"When I was your age I already had two part-time jobs, and although colleges were not an option for me, I pretty much supported myself and have decided on the future occupation."

A piece of meatloaf gets stuck in Billy's throat and he coughs lightly

"I actually have a job, dad."

"Oh? A job?" Shirley's asking

"Yes, I fix cars in the .."

"I really don't know who would hire you. Just look at the haircut. And the pierced ear? Kids are given too much freedom these days, I swear."

Billy holds back an eye roll

Dean stops chewing for a second

"That's true, I don't remember having a haircut like this when I was your age, kid."

"If I were the one to hire I'd tell you to go to the hairdresser first, son."

Dad, stop.

Billy's biting his lower lip.

Fucking stop.

Susan is sing-songing an obliging

"Dean, would you like more meatloaf?"

"Oh I sure would love to, cousin."

She's looking at Neil.

"Honey?"

"Please. It's delicious."

Well damn, Billy hasn't even said anything, but he already feels like he's been covered in shit from head to toe.

Can we please just fucking get to dessert, or better skip it, and then wave you a heartfelt goodbye?

Aunt Shirley decides to switch to Max.

"What about you, sweetie? Do you like your new school?"

"Yes, I really like it. I've joined AV club, it's really interesting."

"What's AV?"

"AV stands for audiovisual .. it's working with audio or video materials, recording something, editing it .. It's fun."

"Oh. Sounds more like a thing boys would be interested in?"

"Uhm ..there are boys and girls, it doesn't really matter.."

"Have you made friends at school already?"

Auntie sure is a nosy one.

"Well, yes .. they are from the club mostly."

"Who is your best friend, sweetie?"

"Uhm .."

Max is quickly glancing at Billy, but his eyes are cast down.

"Jenny. Jenny is my new friend here. She's nice."

Susan remarks politely

"You should absolutely invite Jenny for a visit sometime, sweetie. Right, Neil?"

Neil's nodding and chewing.

Susan adds

"We'd love to meet her."

"Of course, mom."

At least, the shitbird had enough brains not so say something wrong. Susan's gonna be asking her about this imaginary Jenny now, but it's a problem for another day.

The adults finally leave the kids alone, and Billy can eat some food although it all tastes bland now for some reason.

Billy's used to being belittled in front of others by his own father, but it stings every time like a knee skinned afresh.

After dinner when Neil, Susan and the guests have talked some more in the living room, it is finally time to say goodbye. Auntie and uncle want to get back to their Hicksville before the darkness falls.

Max helps clean up the table and is allowed to go to her room. Billy's in the kitchen washing up. Neil comes to the kitchen from the bathroom.

"I'm disappointed in you, son."

You're always disappointed in me. The fuck did I do this time?

Billy's circling the sponge on the same plate, over and over, until he stops.

"Were you not able to answer the questions and maintain a semblance of a decent conversation? Sitting there with a long face and mumbling? What will they think of you now? That I have an imbecile with a pierced ear for a son?"

Are you kidding me right now? You interrupted me every time I was actually saying something!

Billy doesn't know what answer is expected from him. He squeezes out a robotic

"I'm sorry, sir."

Is the safest bet in most cases. Not in one hundred percent of them though.

Susan who is drying and putting the dishes away decides to ease the tension a bit. Once every half a year she does that.

"Neil, honey, please.. it was such a nice evening."

"And it would've been even nicer if my son here had put more effort into making an impression like he really cares about your family's visit!"

Fuck, dad, whatever I do, you're never happy. What the fuck do you want from me? You know what? I don't even care what it is. Just leave me the fuck alone.

Billy just goes on washing the damn dishes. What else is there to do, huh. Like he can start smashing plates on the wall.

Susan is actually trying her best

"Shirley and Dean are waiting for our call next week to let them know if we're going to come for Thanksgiving."

Oh fucking shit no

"I would really love to go. A whole lot of my relatives are going to be there, would you like to go, honey?"

Neil is considering the idea

"I believe it would be nice, to get to know everyone. We'll talk about that when we're alone though. Can you get me a beer from the fridge? Gotta catch up on the evening news."

Susan is handing him a can of beer and dad's off to the living room to watch TV.

It seems that Billy's off the hook for now.

"I can finish here by myself, Susan. If you have something else to do."

"Oh, would you really? I'll go sort out the laundry then. Thank you, Billy."

Not the fucking trip to another bumfuck town for Thanksgiving. Fucking hell, please no.

The evening sucked, but all in all, honestly, it could've been worse.

When Billy's lying in bed he remembers how his mom used to praise him when he was little. Doesn't remember much, cause memories have faded with time, but he can still hear her soft voice

You're doing such a good job, baby.

Billy's trying to hold on to these crumbs of memories. They keep on fading away, time is doing its job of erasing them slowly, and sometimes Billy wonders if he even had a mother. The notion seems like from another lifetime.

Maybe he can still do something right one day. Maybe he's not a total screw up.

Or maybe his dad's right.

***

When Saturday comes Billy goes to work first thing in the morning. He again checks his car, everything runs smoothly. Billy's kinda excited for the evening. What are the chances of having two camaros, identical models, in the same little town? While the other camaro is the original Z28, Billy's car is a bit different cause back in San Diego after hauling it away from the scrapyard he had to come up with inventive decisions to bring it back to life. Guys from the garage helped him get the hood for his car from a sports coupe camaro. It's also missing a badge, and it's been repainted.

Billy loves his baby to pieces.

He kinda doesn't care if he wins or loses, there's no shame in losing to this yellow black striped beast. When Andy brought his car to Old Joe's garage, complaining about the noises, Hargrove personally went through every tiny part, fixed the problem and now the engine worked like a well-tuned clock. Both cars are basically the same on the inside, they are equals. It'll probably be a draw. Billy can live with that.

They meet at a quarter past six near the Brimborn steelworks plant. Roy, Danny, Mike and Tina, as well a couple of girls whose names Billy doesn't remember are there. As soon as the race starts they are gonna jump in their cars and catch up with everyone at the bridge. They are gonna miss the finale, but Tina insisted on waving the checked flag - god knows where they got it from - and she demanded company.

At six thirty sharp the flag is waved and two cars take off from the start line. A Camaro Z28 can reach its maximum speed of 120 mph in under twenty seconds, so it's gonna be fucking fast.

It's a sight, these two, blue and yellow with black stripes.

The cars are going hood to hood, light to light, engines roaring, rubber squealing.

A couple of turns are behind, there are two more ahead, and although sometimes one car seems to get ahead of the other, they are moving in sync.

It's gonna be a draw. They'll be getting to the finish line in no time.

"There they are!" Vicky is shouting in a shrill voice

Harrington is watching.

At first he didn't want to come cause

Asshole Hargrove and the fight

But Tommy roped him in anyways

"Oh come on man, it's not like we're having a goddamn race here every day!"

All the people who are waiting at the bridge are watching, holding their breath. They've parked their cars at a safe distance from the bridge in the field and some kids are leaning on them, some are just standing near, but all of their eyes are glued to the road.

Both camaros are like two flashes of lightning, coming towards the bridge at a breakneck speed.

Billy releases the gas pedal just a little, then floors it with all his force, and the blue Camaro pulls forward, but just a couple of inches, at most

They are flying towards the final goal, and the bridge is right there, right in front of them, they won't fit on it together, with two lanes merging into one.

Why is neither of them slowing down?

Good thing Tina stayed behind because she would have a heart attack

It's not even a matter of minutes now, it's a matter of seconds

It's either one of them lets the other overtake him, and not by an inch or two, or they are gonna crash. At this speed? They are going to fucking die.

Hit the brakes, dammit! Someone has to give in

Andy needs to understand that Hargrove is not gonna slow down. It's not about whose car is faster anymore because they are both fast. It's about who's crazier.

Holy fucking hell, they're gonna crash.

One of them has to brake.

He has to.

Steve's heart is jumping out of his chest. This is too intense. This is also hella beautiful, watching these two beauties speed down the road

But one of them fucking has to slow down and let the other one win!

In the blink of an eye the yellow camaro drops the speed abruptly and swerves to the side, and Billy has a fraction of a second to turn the steering wheel and not crash into the bridge railing.

The blue car flies on the bridge and over it, and the yellow one is left behind on the side of the road.

Andy is getting out of his car and Tommy and other guys run up to him

"Dude, that was insane!"

Andy's shaking his head, not quite processing that they were this close to crashing

"No that .. that guy is insane. He's got nerves of .. of fucking steel. I swear I was ready to brake any second cause it was .. clear it's a draw but .. he had no intention of slowing down at all."

He exhales loudly

"I need a cigarette. Where's Tina?"

"She's coming, man, they're coming."

Billy's camaro is standing on the road for a minute, engine running

The hell he's standing there?

In a minute it's turning around and driving back over the bridge to the gathering of teens.

Roy, Tina and all the starting point crew arrive at the finish.

Tina is getting out of a red ford escort and running to Andy

"Baby, did you win?"

He's shaking his head again, still not being able to believe what just happened

"Nah. I thought it would be a draw till the very last second. Hargrove won."

At last Billy arrives at the spot where everyone's standing and gets out of his car.

He comes up to Andy, stretches his hand out for a shake

"Great race, Goldman."

Andy shakes his hand and Tommy gives Hargrove an already lit cigarette

Billy accepts, his fingers are shaking, just a little

Andy looks at Hargrove

"You're crazy, man."

Billy's chuckling nervously

"Yeah. My fucking bad."

Tina opens the trunk of the ford and hands Andy a six-pack which he gives to Billy

"For the winner."

Billy puts it on the camaro's hood. He takes out another six-pack from his own car.

"I really thought it would be a draw, Goldman. Your car is a beast."

It is, and Billy truly did. He just changed his mind last second.

Two six-packs, and Roy whispers something to Tommy and they go to Harrington's BMW and come back with even more beer, and Billy takes a can and after shouting

"To all fast and beautiful things in the world!"

He's shotgunning it,

Tommy yells

"Fucking preach!"

And the guys are whooping and more cans are being opened, and the girls are laughing and the beer flows, and the evening is relatively warm, and the sun almost reaches the horizon painting the sky and the clouds a beautiful palette

Heartbeats get back to normal, more or less

Andy turns on some music in his car and opens the doors

They are young, and still carefree, and no-one crashed during the race which is a good enough reason to celebrate

When Tommy comes up to Billy a couple of minutes later, Hargrove already has Vicky on one arm and Jennifer on the other, and Vicky looks like she's ready for a cat fight

"Dude that's the craziest car race I've seen. I mean .. at the fucking end of it .. dude."

Tommy is looking at Hargrove in awe. He looks at him like he wants to kiss him on the mouth but is never gonna

He turns and kisses Carol instead who's hugging him from behind

Some couples are dancing, Andy and Tina are making out

Harrington is moping cause he's without his princess

Someone says it's gonna rain because the clouds are building up, but no-one gives a fuck

And when the rain does pour down, and they dance and drink some more under it, everyone finally gets in the cars, soaking wet, laughing, drunk and happy

And so so young.

***

When Steve gets home that night it's close to 10 pm already. His dad is up in the bedroom and mom's watching tv downstairs.

"Steve, is everything alright?"

"Of course, mom."

"Where have you been?"

"Just hanging out with guys."

"But it's pouring outside?"

"Yeah, just uh .. it's not a big deal."

"Oh .. Dad and I wanted to talk to you about.."

"I know, I know .. colleges and stuff. Not tonight though, right? It's late."

"No, of course not. Also, not just colleges, you need to keep in mind other options as well in case .."

"Mooom. It's late, 'm tired. And I really need to change, okay? Love you. Good night."

"Good night, honey."

Steve takes off his wet clothes, jumps in for a quick shower, brushes his teeth. He's still feeling excited, from watching the race, from sensing the danger. He's known Andy for years, and despite the fact that the dude's capable of doing something crazy, like climbing on the roof of the house drunk to proclaim his love for his girlfriend, or, case in point, racing, he is generally in his right mind.

Hargrove, on the other hand? He's a total nutcase. Risking his life like that? What for? Why? Is winning so important for him? Or is it not just about winning?

Harrington was among those who were at the finish line, sitting on the hood of his BMW, and he saw the finale.

It's like Hargrove almost doesn't care if he lives or dies.

A race is a race, but risking your life for that?

Maybe Steve should be careful playing that game that he wants to pursue. He might be playing with fire. He probably should call it off before anything even started. A smart thing to do would be to stay away from Hargrove.

Harrington's not so sure anymore what he's doing.

That motherfucker is batshit crazy

Does Steve find it attractive?

Hargrove has been so distant this week, minding his own business, it was strange. Wasn't that what Steve wanted? For Billy to leave him alone?

Yes. But also ..

Also what?

Steve shakes the towel wrapped around his waist down, throws it on a chair, finds a clean t-shirt to put on for the night. He gets under the blanket without any underwear and turns on the belly, shutting his eyes.

He hasn't come for five days already. Last time he jerked off in the shower on .. what was it, Sunday?

Steve starts humping the bed slowly, his cock painfully hard.

He's grinding against the mattress, lazily moving his hips and thinking about today.

The sounds of engines roaring, impatient, hotheaded.

Music booming in the open air and rain coming down from the sky

He's thinking about the party when Steve walked in on that couple about to fuck right here, in his room.

He's seen Hargrove's dick in the showers. Not that he looked. How would it feel to .. to touch it? To feel its weight? How would it feel to be standing on the knees in front of Billy, looking up at his face?

He was here, in Steve's room. With his dick out.

Does he have sex like this too, unhinged and hot to the point of burning down to ashes?

Harrington's pressing into the mattress and then releasing the pressure, and he can feel his orgasm building, building to the point of..

Suddenly Steve opens his eyes

Ugh, fucking stop. You have a girlfriend. Just .. stop, jesus fucking christ, enough. Think about her boobs for christ's sake.

Steve hasn't seen or felt Nancy's boobs in a while now. Is this what a serious relationship is, is this what marriage generally is like??

Boobs. Boobs. He has to think about boobs. He grabs a playboy from under the bed in frustration, opens it at a random page

There they are. Nice and full and so soft to the touch.

Steve is back at humping the bed. He really needs to cum, his balls have been feeling literally huge for the last couple of days

The moment Harrington closes his eyes again

A sensation of Hargrove's body grinding on his own during basketball comes to Steve's mind and he moans in frustration.

Boobs. Think about boobs, come on now.

Steve's touching Billy's sweaty pecs with his elbow trying to push him away

But the asshole's persistent

What happened this week? Why didn't Hargrove bother him? What's wrong?

His mind comes up with another image that flashes through Steve's fogged up brain, it's Hargrove's nipple's grazing on Steve's elbow,

He's increasing the tempo

Fuck.

He really needs to come. To hell with it.

Steve stops running away from all these images.

He stops and lets them take over.

He doesn't need much, he's already on the verge.

The nipple .. small and hard, sliding on Steve's skin

Another flash is Hargrove's broad shoulder blades, Steve pictures him swimming in his pool, blue lights all around and he looks like a magic creature, only he's not magic

He's real

Very real

Steve loses all the rhythm, humping the bed erratically

How would it feel to .. fucking .. touch ..

Steve cums panting in his pillow.

He almost falls asleep like that.

When he cracks one eye open, he thinks that

He should probably jerk off before taking a shower next time

Whatever

He wipes himself with the sheet, throws it on the floor, finds some boxers lying near the bed, they smell clean

Tomorrow he'll definitely tidy up his room, all this stuff lying around

And sleeps without a sheet cause looking for a new one and putting it on the bed seems like too much work now.

The last coherent thought that Steve's having tonight is

Okay, listen man, that's enough. That's the last time you let yourself think about Hargrove. Stop doing that when you're pleasuring yourself.

Steve's very disappointed with himself.

However, the orgasm felt great.

***

Chapter 8

#harringrove #harringrove fic #billy x steve #mean steve vs mean billy #harringrove slow burn

6 notes · View notes

myfandomlife-blog · 1 year

Text

Love is a sudden guest - part 4

chapter 4 - Billy Hargrove x Reader

no warnings

...A few months later…

You had no idea how you and the others made it out of that godforsaken hole alive but here you were. And all that, while your body wasn't able to press out even a single snowflake.

So you went for the old-fashioned method and had grabbed the bat Steve had pulled out of the trunk. He had reluctantly let go of it after you stared him down for what felt like an hour. He knew that you would not back off, and his effort to make Dustin and the other wait outside, were fruitless as well.

But your victory sadly was overshadowed by the death of Joyce's friend Bob.

It had been months since El closed the gate back up and life had gone back to normal for now. Well at least on the outside.

You had talked to Steve about what happened with Billy, you told him how you had desperately tried to stay in control over every aspect of your life after the possession and that it had burned you out.

“I'm sorry that I didn't talk to you and that I didn't tell you about Billy but I'm not going to apologize for spending time with him.”

You held his stare until he let out a sigh and shook his head slowly. “It's fine I guess. Besides, I can't tell you who to meet and who not, but I cant pretend im not glad that it's over. And it seems to me that it wasn't his intention to get you into his bed just to brag about it.”

“Well, in the end, he did, didn't he,” you said softly, looking down at your hands.

“I don't know, it seemed he felt bad about saying it. I don't think he had planned to say it at all. He kept it for himself for three weeks, that seems like a pretty long time for somebody who wanted to brag about it.”

You smiled softly at his attempt to make you feel better, “It doesn't matter now, does it? It's over and we can go back to our boring lives.” You laid an arm around his shoulder and he let out a laugh.

“Speak for yourself, sis.”

*Billy*

He had reluctantly agreed to drive Max to the mall and now, as they pulled up to the entrance, his eyes instantly snapped to the one person he wanted to avoid. The motor of his car was still running as he watched y/n sitting on a bench beside a fountain a couple of metres away from his parking spot.

That night at the Byers house was the last time he had spoken to y/n and for months he had successfully managed to avoid her. The betrayed look in her eyes that night had made his stomach turn, even after months he couldn't get her out of his mind no matter how hard he had tried. She probably hated him by now because to get her out of his mind he had been with many other women.

None of them had filled the hole in his heart that she had left, but he tried it over and over again and he hated himself for that.

“Maybe you can talk to her?” Max said carefully and his gaze snapped away from y/n over to his sister.

“What?” he said and Max grimaced.

“Y/n. Maybe you should talk to her. I know she feels bad about everything that has happened and…”

“Maybe you should mind your own damn business, Maxine.” He hissed and she watched him for a moment, no doubt waying if she should say something else. She wasn't as afraid of him anymore as she had been a year ago but there were still lines she didn't want to cross, so she just let out a sigh and got out of the car. But before she walked away she turned back to the open window to look at him. He was leaning back against the headrest, his arm on the door. She saw his gaze flicker back to where y/n was sitting before he put on his sunglasses.

“She will be in the school library tomorrow evening. She is there every Thursday to work on her project.” He turned to her and even with the sunglasses, she could see the anger on his face, so she turned around and quickly walked away from the car.

He gripped the steering wheel tight as he sped away from the mall.

…she feels bad about everything that has happened…

His stomach turned, why would she feel bad when he was the one who acted like an asshole?

Hearing from Max to talk to her had made him furious, she shouldn't interfere in his affairs but there was this tiny little part, inside his mind, that was grateful for her.

You stretched out your arms as a yawn escaped your mouth. It had taken you an extra hour of work but you looked over the papers in front of you satisfied.

The paper wasn’t due for another week but given that it would play a major role in your final grade, and with that in your choice for a college, you had worked on it every day for the past few weeks.

Now that it was finished you felt the exhaustion prick on your eyes.

The school library was empty since the last students had gone over an hour ago.

It was pitch black outside and you cursed in silence, still used to the complete silence policy of the library, as you thought about the way home. You had planned to finish right in time to walk home with the last light of dusk but that was too late now.

You rubbed your eyes when the sound of a door let you freeze.

Was there still someone here? You had thought that everyone already left.

Fear started to creep up your spine as you turned to walk to one of the entrance doors of the room. It was hidden behind a shelf and you couldn't see it from your table but you were almost certain that it must have been this door.

Slowly walking over to the shelf your fingers started to prickle at the thought of a possible thread but you willed it down.

It was highly possible that it was just another student you hadn't seen, and you wouldn't want to risk a murder investigation right before college.

Right at the edge of the shelf you waited a moment and mustered all the courage you had left (the horror movie marathon with Steve and Dustin last weekend was still ringing in your head).

After everything you had seen, being in the empty library all alone in the middle of the night shouldn't be as frightening as it seemed right now but here you were.

Counting to three in your head you snapped around the shelf to find… a closed door and not a single soul in sight.

You let out a sigh feeling a little awkward after making such a fuss, but when you turned back around, a little scream escaped your throat at the sight of a person sitting on the table you had been earlier. His feet were up on the sitting space, his arms resting on his knees, hands hanging loosely between his legs and the fear was switched out for a different set of emotions.

“What are you doing here, Hargrove?” You asked, pulling your eyes from him, face back into an indifferent mask as you walked over to get your stuff. Your heart was still racing but you had a slight suspicion it had nothing to do with fear anymore. He had flinched slightly at the use of his last name and you had to admit that it felt wrong.

“Did you sneak in here to scare the shit out of me?”

As you waited for an answer you looked up at him to find confusion written on his face.

“I wasn't sneaking in, I came through the door.” He pointed to the backdoor that led to the parking lot and you felt entirely stupid. “I thought you were getting something off the shelf over there and because your stuff was still here I waited.”

His mouth twitched slightly and his eyes gleamed. “Don't tell me I scared you.”

Your head snapped back to your stuff and you said, “of course not. Why would I be scared? But you haven't answered my question. What are you doing here?”

He was silent for a moment but you couldn't look up at him.

Finally he said “I wanted to talk to you.”

The thoughts of all the rumours came to your mind and anger started to rise in your stomach.

“Why? Are you through with every girl in school and now you want to start from the beginning?” Your voice was bitter but you couldn't help it, you had heard the other girls talk and you had cried your fair share of tears because of it.

“I can't stop thinking about you.”

Your mind blanked at the sincerity of his voice and your telltale heart jumped in your chest. It took a lot of effort to keep your eyes on the paper in front of you. You wanted to tell him that you too had not been able to get him out of your head and that it broke your heart all over again when you had heard the whisper of every girl in your class when they told their friends that they had spent the night with Billy Hargrove.

But you remained silent.

“Can you please talk to me, y/n?”

“What do you want me to say?” you snapped, finally looking at him and his blue eyes were fixed on you. “I'm really tired, Billy. I don't want to do this right now.” It was the truth. You hadn’t slept well the past few days and you still needed to walk all the way home so you had no energy left to spare.

As if he could read your mind he said, “at least let me drive you home, there is no other car outside so I assume you planned on walking but it's already dark.” He was fixing you with his eyes and you were about to say ‘no’ when he said, “come on y/n, just let me do this for you.”

You watched him, calculating the situation and if it was a good idea to get into his car. Not because you were afraid of him but because you couldn't trust your own body when he was so close. You still felt the fluttering in your chest when his scent hit you after all this time.

“Thank you, I would appreciate it, Billy.” you gave in and turned away not seeing the little smile that tugged at the corner of his lip at the sound of his name out of your mouth and you were too tired to realise that you had said it.

He was waiting outside the door, cigarette between his lips as you walked out of the library after packing up all your stuff.

“Ready?” he asked and you nodded, silently walking over to his car. The whole situation felt painfully familiar but at the same time eerily strange. He hadn't spoken for the entire ride, even if you almost wished for him to tell you something, anything.

But after ten minutes you reached your street and he stopped two houses away from your home, maybe out of habit.

The car went silent and the two of you just sat there, waiting for something that neither of you could say. You feared the moment you stepped out of the car as if it meant to be the final end to something you weren't sure you wanted to leave behind. So you turned to him, not able to see his whole face in the darkness of the night but you knew he was watching you.

“Thank you for driving me, Billy.” you said and as you turned around you could have sworn his hand twitched as if he wanted to reach for you but pulled himself back again.

“I see you around I guess.”

It was the last straw you wanted to throw at him, anything to get him to say something to you. Before you could close the door he called your name and you looked back at him.

“Can I see you tomorrow? Maybe we can get something to eat and… then we could talk?”

There it was, and it surprised you how much you had hoped for him to say something like that. You couldn't even pretend to think about your answer as you said, “I would like that.”

And as you laid in your bed that night staring at your ceiling, thinking about the next day, you could not suppress the smile that had crept up your lips.

You had never felt so entirely stupid and angry in your whole life. Gripping the steering wheel so hard your knuckles turned white.

It was Saturday now and because you had promised El and Max to take them on a shopping tour, you were now on your way to the mall.

They both were glancing at each other worried whenever you let out a course or honked at another car furiously. You were obviously angry but until now none of them had the courage to ask you what was going on. Max had a slight hunch but there was only one way to find out. She looked over at El and swallowed before she asked, “y/n is everything alright?”

You looked at her in the rear-view mirror and you tried to soften your voice as you said, “Yes, everything is absolutely fine, Max. Why do you ask?”

“Well, you seem a little tense and the side windows are starting to freeze.” She pointed to the window beside her with her thumb and you just now realised that it had been freezing cold in the car beside the summer heat outside.

You pulled into the parking lot in front of the mall and took a deep breath before you turned around to the two girls. “I’m sorry.” you said as the ice slowly vanished and the temperature was rising again.

Max and El gave you an understanding smile and Max asked, “you didn't by any chance talk to Billy? Did you?” And your face told her that she had hit the nail on the head.

“I'm sorry, y/n. What did he say? It was something stupid wasn’t it?”

“Well, not exactly. Because in order to say something stupid, he would have had to show up in the first place. He wanted to meet with me yesterday and I waited for an hour before I finally admitted to myself that I am a lot more stupid than I thought.”

“I can't believe he did that. What the hell is wrong with him?” she said and shook her head.

“I asked myself that question far too many times already.”

„There is definitely something very wrong with Billy.“ Max said and El just nodded. They both showed up at your doorstep a couple of days later. You had almost managed to divert your thoughts away from Billy.

Almost.

„What is it now? Can’t I have a little peace from this whole Billy-thing?“ You crossed your arms, already tired of the subject popping up over and over again.

„No, you don’t understand. There is something very, very wrong this time. Like upside-down wrong.“ Max said and you uncrossed your arms.

„What do you mean?“

After they told you about El‘s vision and about Heather's bloody whistle you were full in alarm mode.

„We think he might be possessed.“

The hair in the back of your neck started to rise and your breathing accelerated as the well known panic rose in your stomach. You just stared blankly at them, trying to suppress the dark thoughts.

„Y/n, y/n did you hear what I said?“ Max snapped her fingers right in front of your face and you snapped out of your thoughts.

„I…I heard you.“ you said, catching El’s sympathetic gaze. She laid her hand on your forearm in order to comfort you and you gave her a weak smile.

Max looked between the two of you and suddenly realised what the thought about the possession might trigger in you.

„I’m sorry y/n, maybe we should get Hooper or Joyce to help…“

„No.“ you said, your voice more confident than you had expected. „If he really is possessed we need to do something. I will not sit here and let you kids fight this thing alone. I will manage.“

„So what should we do?“ Max asked and you tried to think about it without letting your fear get a hold of you.

„We should see if Heather is fine. Maybe there is an explanation and our fantasy just runs wild. I get my keys and we drive over to her house.“

…

It had started to rain heavily and you couldn’t suppress the thought that it was a bad omen.

“I think we should knock, maybe…” you called over the rain but the door was unlocked and swung open, unmistakably El’s doing and you said, “…fair enough.”

The three of you walked into the house and Max stopped in front of a framed picture on the wall.

“This is her house.” She said and you too stopped in front of the picture.

Thoughts started to rise again in your head and your stomach clenched at the image that was building in your mind.

You didn’t notice that Max and El hat made their way into the living room but then you heard Billy’s voice. You leaned against the wall out of sight from him and pressed your hand over your mouth as bile started to rise in your throat.

A familiar shiver started to rise up your spine.

No, please, it can't be true.

“…what on earth are you doing here? Is something wrong?” He asked Max and your fingertips started to prickle. There was something so very wrong about his voice but you couldn’t explain it.

“…where is she?” El asked him and you could almost feel the change in the atmosphere.

“Where is who?” He said and at the same time you heard Heather’s sunshine voice.

This was all wrong. The hair on your arms and neck was standing up as if your body could physically feel the danger that was seeping through the house.

You left through the still open door just in time before Max, El and Billy walked into the hallway.

Back in your car, the three of you sat there just staring blankly into the night, still processing the whole thing.

After a while you opened your mouth without looking at the two girls, “I…there is something very wrong with him. I'm not sure what it is but it felt an awful lot like something from the upside down, I'm just not sure how much of it was him and how much was the other thing.”

“You sure?” Max said, voice slightly trembling. “I mean he has been an ass before all this, he doesn't need a mind possessing monster for that.”

...

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