mystrade-lecroft
Mystrade-Lecroft
Find me on ao3 as HMG621.
~~
Mystrade. Harringrove. Britin (Brian/Justin). Viclock. Finnpoe (Stormpilot). Lito/Hernando. Janto. Persephone/Hades.
1386 posts
Don't wanna be here? Send us removal request.
Last Seen Blogs
Text
steve being overly tactile with billy when they become friends. slinging an arm around billy’s shoulder’s while they’re watching a movie. putting his hands on billy’s waist to move past him. tucking billy’s hair behind his ear to look at his earring. slipping a finger through the loop of billy’s jeans to tug him closer. grabbing billy’s chin to tilt his head because oh, you have freckles..
steve telling himself that sure he touches billy a lot but. he’s always been a touchy guy. it doesn’t mean anything.
steve not accepting that he has a crush on billy and that’s the reason he can’t keep his hands to himself.
because obviously steve isn’t a queer.
as if.
billy being simultaneously overwhelmed with and loving all the attention. because it’s steve. steve pressing his face into billy’s neck when they’re high. pulling billy’s hand close to play with his ring. running his hand over billy’s stomach when they pass out in the same bed and he thinks billy’s still asleep. tracing circles around billy’s ankle as he listens to billy read.
because it’s steve. steve who billy’s had a thing for since he arrived in hawkins. steve who can’t like billy like that. steve who isn’t like billy. steve who likes girls.
steve who called byers a queer.
billy wondering if this is just what it’s like to have a friend. a best friend. if this is just what you do. because billy doesn’t know. wouldn’t know. no one’s ever gotten close enough. billy thinking it’s all in his head. that he’s twisting his and steve’s relationship. making it into something it’s not.
steve staring at billy’s lips and wondering what it’d be like to touch them. billy wondering if steve’s gonna break his heart without even trying.
632 notes
·
View notes
Text
I started this literally years ago and finally got back to finish it. Hope you like it
0 notes
Text
If anyone got a reply to an ask they sent me years ago, I meant to save it as a draft to keep working on the fic later, but I think I accidentally sent it to you privately and I don't remember the username so I can't ask for it back. And what's worse is I don't remember what I wrote! I'm really sorry you got my vague outline when I really did want to answer that. I remember the premise of what I was writing so I'm going to try again. But if you see this, whoever you are (if you're even still active), I'm really sorry and please let me know?
1 note
·
View note
Note
I've been away for a week, so I don't know if you're still doing this, but; folder?
Hi there. I know it's been literal YEARS since you sent this. I never forgot it was there, I just got onto a different hyperfixation and my brain is finally letting me come back around. So anyways,
-----
There wasn't a tv in the house when Mycroft was growing up, so even as an adult he doesn't feel the urge to watch. When he started dating Greg, sometimes date night meant dinner at home then watching telly. Which has lead to Mycroft's most guarded secret that only Greg knows: he absolutely loves trashy reality tv. Love Island, Naked Attraction, you name it he has Opinions and will talk about them. (If he were willing to admit to anyone that he watches.) Greg thinks it's absolutely adorable and is happy to take this secret to his grave.
#I've been away for so long I hope you forgive me#mystrade#mystrade headcanon#feel free to ask me about my headcanons
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
If you're not going to be kind to yourself, let me do it.
- Steve to Billy probably
21 notes
·
View notes
Text
I wrote this for the Harringrove Holiday Exchange 2023. Please enjoy!
10 notes
·
View notes
Text
11K notes
·
View notes
Text
Reblog if you write fic and people can inbox you random-ass questions about your stories, itemized number lists be damned.
123K notes
·
View notes
Text
billy watching steve dance with nancy at tina’s halloween party and letting his mind drift to a vision of his hands roaming down the pretty boy’s tight black t-shirt, steve’s focused eyes on him, watching billy’s hands descend while the music grows louder. real steve is dancing terribly but in billy’s daydream the pretty boy has his mouth on billy’s, tongue against tongue.
but it’s only a silly thought in billy’s mind so he gulps down his beer and moves his eyes somewhere else. the pretty boy only a blurry figure to his right.
175 notes
·
View notes
Text
Steve: *seeing Billy for the first time* You look like someone who will create a lot of problems for me.
Steve:
Steve: I’m kinda into that
226 notes
·
View notes
Text
“And you are…”
“Single.”
“Stop it, I’m insulting you not looking to flirt.”
“Why can’t we do both?”
527 notes
·
View notes
Text
Billy: I think I’m coming down with something. I’ve been so nauseous lately
Steve, seriously: Maybe you’re pregnant.
*they sit there in silence for a moment*
Billy: I don’t know who’s the bigger idiot. You for suggesting that, or me because I almost had a panic attack
648 notes
·
View notes
Text
Billy catches himself perving on the guy who runs down his block every morning. It's those floppy shorts. Billy’s not even a leg guy, but there's something so shapely about them. They leave the impression that they were flawlessly sculpted in clay. Here is youth and beauty as can only be imagined and never had- except there they are gliding by, holding up a nice handful of ass. Billy's not a creep so about the time his brain starts spitting poetry over a strangers ass is exactly the moment he decides to get on with his morning and leaves the window. But he starts taking his coffee by the window more often, just to see perfection run by, because it's not a bad way to start a morning all considered.
One day they communicate. The runner stops outside Billy’s window to take a drink from a plastic bottle and notices Billy standing there behind the glass. Gives a silent good morning in the form of a neighborly nod and an awkward wave. Billy raises his mug, all howdy neighbor. And as long legs carry that bouncing ass away he thinks, ‘fuck I need to hit that’. There are a few obstacles to this new goal of his. It's the 90s but these things still have to be approached carefully. He starts looking for signs, because it’s something to do. Would a gay man wear his sweatband like that?
The shorts get shorter. Tighter. Sometimes the runner will stop at the corner for a breather and a stretch. That little shit knows what he's doing. He's totally gay and asking for a spanking to boot. That’s a good day. Billy whistles on his way to work and doesn’t even get mad at the terrible drivers on his commute. But then the very next day something new happens. The runner isn’t alone. There’s a girl with him. Girlfriend? Wife? Fuck. They seem close. She's hanging on his arm and laughing her ass off. The fuck is her problem? Nobody is that funny.
Billy's mood has soured but it picks up when the runner meets his eye as they are passing his window. He gives Billy a shy wave before tugging his little friend along. People do have platonic friends of the opposite sex, Billy remembers. Movement catches his eye, and he has to lean a little to see further down the street but the girl is walking backward, a step or two behind her friend, waving her arms in the air. When she sees that she has Billy's attention she points at the runners back and makes the call me gesture with her other hand. And just in case Billy somehow failed to get the message she makes an enthusiastic thrusting motion. Billy nearly chokes on his coffee. Right. Not his girlfriend then.
629 notes
·
View notes
Text
I had a thought:
What about Billy on duty at the pool and he sees Max and her friends show up and all start playing in the pool. Except El. And this isn't the first time he's noticed that El doesn't get in the water. So today he decides to come down from the chair and goes over to her and is like "why aren't you in the pool with the other losers?" And she tells him she doesn't know how to swim so he offers her a spot in the swim class he teaches. And that's how El ended up happily learning how to swim with a bunch of little kids in arm floaties.
14 notes
·
View notes
Text
All the props to @wrecked-fuse for making a sketch that triggered my writing bone for the first time in a long time. (i didn’t proof read this, it was literally a speed write)
subway au!harringrove
“You two make a cute couple.”
Steve nearly misses the comment, his airpods just loud enough to drown out most sound on the subway. But the girl smiling at him had said it with deliberate volume, over the roar of the car.
He blinks up at her from his copy of IT, tugging a pod out before he looks rude.
“Sorry?” He asks, confused momentarily until the weight on his shoulder jostles just so. A turn in the track.
The head on his shoulder had been a surprise at first, but Steve’s steadily forgotten it for almost ten minutes now. It’s not like his neighbor is a stranger.
They’ve been riding the same stops for months now. It’d been a nice surprise when Steve started riding the subway to class when his car bit the dirt. He’d expected to spend the ride with his eyes on the ground.
But then he’d seen the most beautiful man step onto the train beside him and he’d been unable to ignore him. The height, broad shoulders and curly blond hair. Fit in every sense of the word. His silent subway crush is always dressed casual for class, but never goes the same way Steve does on campus. Steve thinks he might be an engineer, spotting an electronic engineering textbook on more than one occasion. Back and forth they’d gone, for months, clearly taking classes the same time of day. Day after day. Steve just never got up the courage to do anything about it.
The logical thing would be to ask his name. But he only knows him as the ‘hot subway guy’.
Robin ridicules him constantly.
“You two.” The girl motions to his sleeping companion with the phone in her hand, then her eyes are back on Steve. “You’re sweet together.”
“Uh.” Steve wants to say they’re not together, which would make sense because they’re not. But because of the way the sleeping man on his shoulder makes him feel needed, weighed down by a simple touch, he doesn’t say anything. He laughs, soft, and feels his face heat at the cheeks. “Thanks.”
Keep reading
673 notes
·
View notes
Text
I'm thinking of an AU where Billy wasn't involved in the shenanigans/horrors of season three at all. He worked at the pool, picked up extra shifts ever since Heather stopped showing up, went to scoops every chance he got just to see Steve Harrington's fat ass in those tiny shorts. He has a night off for once and decides to go and see that new sci-fi movie playing at the mall. Near the end he swears he can hear Harrington laughing like a lunatic with some girl down in the front row, but when the movie ends Billy doesn't see him in the que to leave, just the girl he works with huddled around a bucket of popcorn and giggling to herself while she wanders towards the water fountain. He needs to piss, so Billy makes his way to the bathroom, stopping short outside the entrance when the sound of someone wretching up what must be all of their internal organs filters through the door. He debates just going home, but he actually *really* has to go. So.
Billy pushes open the door, ignoring the painful vomiting sounds three doors down and takes care of business. It's not until he saunters up to wash his hands that he notices a pair of very familiar Nike's sticking out across the floor. And there sits Harrington, hugging the toilet like a lifeline and panting into the crook of his elbow.
"Harrington? Shit, you alright?"
And normally he'd poke fun. Pretty boy is obviously on something, evident by his blown out pupils and glassy stare. But he's also sweating buckets and shaking, tears and snot running down his face. And Jesus ever loving *fuck*, whoever worked over pretty boy's face wasn't pulling any punches.
Steve squints, eyes traveling slowly from Billy's boots up to his face. He smiles, dopey and high and Billy winces at how it pulls the purple black swelling of his cheek.
"Yeah, I feel way better now."
Which. *Okaaaaay*.
"I'll bet. What the fuck happened to your face?"
"I was integrated-..inter...interror-...I was tortured by Russian spies"
Billy snorts, amused despite himself.
"Oh yeah? That why you weren't at the counter today, sailor?"
Steve scrunches up his nose, and damn, Billy's gunna have to ask Harrington what he took when he's a bit more sober. It's some potent stuff if he's not even flinching moving an obviously broken nose like that.
"You know my shift schedule?"
*Shit*. Billy feels the tips of his ears go hot. Clearing his throat awkwardly as he glances down at his boots.
Time to change the subject.
"Why were you being *interrogated* by Russian spies, pretty boy?"
Steve sucks his teeth.
"Cuz the monsters came back and Robin cracked Dustin's code and then we went under the mall in an elevator to a secret Russian Army base and got caught and then they beat me up and shot me and Robin up with truth syrup and-...umm....I think that's it."
Billy blinks.
Once.
Twice.
And. *Huh*.
"That right?"
Steve nods, swaying dangerously forward before catching himself on the stall doorway.
Whatever he's on, Steve obviously *believes* what he's saying. There might even be something to that 'truth serum' element considering how he's answered all of Billy's questions so easily. And Billy never once in his life claimed to be a good person.
"Why were you with my sister at the Byers' house last winter?"
Steve's head shoots up, eyes wide as saucers and for one horrifying moment Billy's sure the guy is going to start crying. Thankfully he doesn't, just slumps even heavier against the toilet with a sigh.
"Because there are monsters in the dark. And I was supposed to protect them. I *had* to protect them. Hopper said to *stay*. And then you showed up and Max said you were gonna kill her and I was supposed to keep them *safe*"
Billy tries to parse through whatever make believe bullshit Steve is spouting before getting caught on the whole *killing his sister* part.
"What, and you believed her?"
Steve gives him a considering look. Barring the rest of *whatever the fuck* Steve is talking about, Billy isn't sure he wants to hear the answer the guy is obviously mulling over.
Finally, he settles on "I don't anymore", and something sharp and hurt in Billy's chest settles.
"Hmm. Alright. If you've been *shot up with truth syrup*" Billy huffs a laugh "tell me a secret. Something you specifically don't want me to know."
Again, Billy's never claimed to be a good person.
Somewhere under all that blood and bruising, Billy thinks he sees a flush creep up Harrington's neck.
*Jackpot*
"I'm the one who keeps stealing your photo from the pool corkboard"
He-..
Wait
What?
"That's-. Uh. Not what I thought you were gonna say."
Steve shrugs, embarrassed and looking anywhere but Billy. And Billy *has to know*. Has to ask.
"Why?"
Harrington looks up at him, not a trace of a lie in his eyes.
"Cuz every time I go to the pool to ask you on a date I chicken out."
Billy can't feel his fucking *face*. He has no idea what to say.
It's at this exact moment one of Max's nerd friends kicks down the bathroom door, holding Scoops girl by the shirt while Sinclair's little sister levels Billy with a challenging glare that has shame curling hot and acrid in his gut.
"STEVE! We've been looking *everywhere* for you! C'mon buddy, we have to get outta here before the Russian guys find us."
These hicks are fucking insane.
After helping Steve up to rinse out his mouth in the sink, Billy walks out of the bathroom with Harrington hanging off his shoulder when a bullet whizzes past his nose to embed itself in the cement wall.
Henderson is screaming "Shit, they found us!" while two men in black combat gear come charging up the escalator, armed to the teeth. They bark orders out in what is obviously Russian before a show car *flies through the air* and crushes them against the wall.
After Billy is introduced to a little girl with God damn *superpowers*, he's given a bare bones explanation while Steve plays with one of Billy's stray curls like it's the most interesting thing in the world. And monsters are real and there's a spider made of people out to get them and apparently Heather is possessed and all Billy can hear is
***Cuz every time I go to the pool to ask you on a date I chicken out***
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
I can so imagine a scenario where Billy and Steve have been screwing around for months, like months, and while Billy has plenty of experience with sex, he’s never slept with anyone quite like Steve.
Steve who holds his hand during sex, Steve who gets off on Billy’s pleasure, Steve who kisses him before and after and during, who likes cuddling, who doesn’t avoid being seen with Billy at all and actually starts hanging out with Billy at school and out of it, who invites him to play basketball in the park and to get food after, and to stay over at his house like every weekend.
Naturally, Billy thinks they’re dating.
But they never talk about it. Somehow, for months of this, it never comes up in conversation how to define their relationship. It’s not exactly necessary, both of them being content as they are with what they have with each other. Whatever they think it is.
Until, of course…
Senior Prom.
Billy’s been dodging prom invitations left and right for two weeks now, leaving a trail of pouty glossed lips behind, claiming he has no interest in going to “the party equivalent of daytime tv”. Steve hasn’t said anything about it except a half-muttered comment that he went to Junior Prom with Nancy, after which he immediately changed the subject. Billy assumed he didn’t want to go either.
Which is why Billy’s surprised when he hears through the school grapevine that Becky Olson asked Steve to Prom and he said yes.
When Billy shows up at Steve’s house after school that day, he’s rage smoked half a pack of cigarettes and stewed in his anger all through the afternoon. Even Max heard about it all the way in the middle school, and offered to take Steve’s bat to his balls. Billy drops Max off at home after promising that if he doesn’t kill Steve, he’ll let her at him.
He lets himself into Steve’s house (Steve always leaves the door unlocked for him) and goes straight to Steve’s room (it’s routine by now), where he finds him sitting on his bed, going through cassette tapes.
“Hey, man,” Steve says. Entirely unconcerned.
Billy’s nostrils flare.
“What the fuck, Steve? Is that what you’re gonna say? ‘Hey, man’?”
Steve does look up then, and frowns at Billy, fucking confused. Like Billy’s saying nonsense.
“Yes? Hello? How was your day?” Steve says, nose scrunching up. “What am I supposed to say?”
Billy can’t fucking believe this. This whole time, Steve’s been so- Now he’s acting like he didn’t even do anything.
“Maybe start by telling me what the hell you’re thinking going to prom with some chick!” He yells, like he hasn’t been cursing her name for at least two hours.
Steve gets up from the bed then, runs a hand through his stupid hair, crosses his arms. Billy can see he’s closing himself off, going on the defensive right off the bat.
“Why are you mad at me about this? You don’t even wanna go,” Steve doesn’t raise his voice, but his words echo in the room same as a slap on his face would.
“I don’t know, Steve, maybe I’m mad my boyfriend’s going on a date with some girl!”
This isn’t making any fucking sense. Steve isn’t like this, an inconsiderate asshole going behind Billy’s back. He’s sweet. He’s always been sweet.
There’s something wrong here, and Billy can’t put his finger on it, and it just makes him angrier.
Steve rears back, brows going up, up, up towards his hairline, eyes wide, a sea of white around brown.
“Boyfriend?” He repeats. Licks his lips. “How- Why would you say boyfriend?”
Billy’s stomach sinks, takes everything in his abdominal cavity with it. He feels hollow, weighed down. All the fight has been sucked out of him.
That’s why the conversation felt off.
"Because we've been dating for like, three months, Steve," Billy says, or forces out, and his voice comes out shaky.
They were. He thought they were. Steve’s been- He holds Billy’s hand. They go on dates, as much as they can while staying under the radar. Billy stays over most weekends. It’s never been like this with anyone else, for Billy, not even in California. Even Before.
Steve’s eyes are still wide, but his eyebrows are doing the puppy dog thing, turned up at the inner corners like he’s hurt.
“I…” He starts, stops. Decides on something else. “We never talked about this.”
Billy rears back this time, feeling the sentence like a blow, and Steve follows him with a step forward, hand reaching out.
“I mean- shit,” Steve says, stammers, runs a hand down his face. “I didn’t know you felt that way. About me. I thought you didn’t-”
“What the fuck did you think when we were going on fucking dates, Steve?!”
“You’re my best friend!” Steve says, and it stings. “We do everything together!”
“And suck each other’s dicks, too!”
“I thought-”
“Thought what, this was some friends with benefits shit? If you’re my best friend and we’re boning, how’s that different from a relationship, Steve?!”
“We never talked about it!” Steve finally raises his voice, and the sound of it stuns Billy.
Steve makes an aborted motion with his hand, then again, before closing it into a fist by his side. He rubs at his eyes with his other hand, but not before Billy sees they are wet.
“I’m not going to assume you’re in love with me, Billy! What if I’m wrong? What if I spend months thinking you love me and it turns out to be bullshit?”
Steve’s breathing hard as he finishes speaking, cheeks blotchy red, and hands shaking. He looks terrified right now, terrified Billy’s going to give up on him and leave, going by how he glances from Billy to the door; terrified he’s hurting Billy, because he keeps reaching out but doesn’t step any closer.
Billy feels something click, then, a piece of the puzzle that was grating on him with jagged edges smooths outs and slots into place. That’s the Steve he knows, with his head tangled in so many feelings he can’t parse them out, but never uncaring. Never cold.
“Well, I do,” Billy says, stepping closer to Steve.
He walk forward until their toes are almost touching, until Steve has to tilt his head down to look Billy in the eye. Billy takes a breath and raises an eyebrow, raises his chin, gives Steve his best smirk like wants to eat him alive. Takes a chance.
“I do love you. Whatcha gonna do about it?”
Steve’s eyes jump between his, mouth parted, like a man lost searching for something. Like he’s looking at something holy. Billy feels tentative fingertips at his elbows, then fingers running up his triceps, until finally one of Steve’s hands closes around his arm. The other continues up, up, a long tingling line to his neck, and Steve cups his jaw like something precious. Rubs his thumb on Billy’s cheekbone, feather light, but Billy feels it like a brand.
“You mean it?” Steve’s voice comes out in a ragged whisper, breath spilling over Billy’s lips.
“I do.” They’re so close. Billy wants to take in all of Steve’s face, the way he’s looking at Billy, with his eyes half lidded and his lips parted, like he’s everything Steve could ever want.
“Basketball in the park,” Steve says, out of nowhere, voice still low. “In February. You complained about the cold the whole time but you still kicked my ass. I bought you a burger at the diner, after. That was our first date.”
Billy’s face splits into a grin so wide his cheeks hurt, and he bunches his hands in Steve’s dumb polo shirt, pulls him closer until Steve has to lean down those two inches to press their foreheads together.
“I love you,” Steve whispers against Billy’s lips, “I’m so in love with you.”
Billy nods, barely moving his head, unwilling to part where they’re touching, “‘m in love with you.”
Their lips really touch then, feeling like the first time even if they’ve kissed a thousand times before, are as familiar with each other’s mouths as they are with their own.
The scrape of Steve’s teeth against Billy’s bottom lip pulls a moan out of Billy, and he presses himself tighter to Steve’s body, pulls at his chest, his hips, wants to climb inside him and never leave.
No one’s ever felt like this. No one’s ever made Billy feel like this, this wanted, this needed, like the world starts and ends with them, together. That’s why Billy was so sure they were together. It couldn’t be anything else.
Steve’s the best thing that’s ever happened to Billy, and he’s not gonna let him go without a fight.
1K notes
·
View notes