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#actually I think the right answer is that Jonathan and Nancy are fucking but not dating
heavencasteel420 · 5 months
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I’m definitely putting the cart before the horse, because I have three active multi-chapter WIPs, but I’m debating whether or not to put Nancy Wheeler Can’t Win (my vaguely Freaks and Geeks-inspired no-UD AU) and Life During Wartime (my Will-and-Jonathan no-UD AU) in the same universe and if so how to work out the timeline.
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rogueddie · 8 months
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Eddie slams his pile of books down on the counter, grinning at how hard Steve startles.
"Jesus, fuck," Steve holds a hand to his chest, glaring. "Man, come on, I'm too young to die of a heart attack."
"Are you sure about that?" Eddie reaches over, to tug at his hair- Steve bats his hand away before he can get near. "What are you now, seventy?"
"I'll have you know that the silver only adds to my charm."
"Sure, keep telling yourself that." He pats the pile of books. "I need to check all of these out."
"You know the limit."
"Please? Pretty please? I'll never insult you for going grey early ever again! Promise!"
"You've made that promise before," Steve grumbles, but starts to check the books out anyway. "What's all of this for anyway? New campaign or something?"
"Nah. Robin mentioned something about the cold war and nuclear shit. Got me curious."
Steve pointedly looks at the books, snorting. "Curious."
"What, you've never wanted to learn some new thing or something?"
"Not this much."
"What about all those sports you played?"
"That was more to do with my parents than me actually wanting to do it."
Eddies eyes narrow because... yeah. Outside of his old King Steve days, Eddie doesn't think Steve has ever wanted something. Not even for his birthday, or Christmas.
All he asks is for them to come to his and Robins flat. All he seems to want is confirmation that they're ok and alive.
"You always say you want kids though, right?"
"I mean, kind of. Though, I'm starting to think the brats we babysat might be more than enough for me."
"Chocolate?"
"Oh no..."
"What?"
"You're planning something, aren't you?"
"No! No, no, no... but there has to be something, right?"
"Something?"
"That you really want."
"There's nothing I need."
"That's not what I'm asking."
"That's all the answer you're getting." Steve shoves the pile of books towards him. "Get lost, I'm supposed to be working."
"Ugh, fine, you're no fun."
But he can't stop thinking about it. He ends up returning the pile of books, despite the fact that he barely read one page. When he tries to use it to question Steve, he dodges the question again.
He very quickly gives up, deciding to pester Robin until she tells him. That takes three weeks of constant, daily efforts. And, in the end, the answer is obvious.
Steve just wants to spend more time with people he cares about.
It's not easy to gather anyone in the party, given that there's no holiday or significant occasion- he manages it, though. All the kids, now young adults, organize transportation. Nancy and Jonathan, over the phone, help Eddie and Robin plan out where everyone will sleep with their small apartments.
The effort, and pain of organizing it all, is worth it for the look on Steves face when he comes home to find them all waiting for him.
When Dustin almost knocks him over with how harm he hugs him, for a second, Eddie is worried that he's going to start crying. But he holds it together, greets them all with so much enthusiasm...
"I forgot that he used to be like this," Robin comments, late into the night. They're sat a little away from the group, watching them argue over their games. "The kids mean a lot to him."
"He means a lot to them."
"I know. I think he forgets though, so... thank you."
Steve doesn't corner him until they've got the kids asleep- half of them going with Nancy, Jonathan and Argyle to Eddies appartment, the rest of them fighting over the little space in Steve and Robins.
"You could've got me chocolate," Steve says, nudging him.
"This is what you really wanted though, isn't it? That was the whole point, big boy."
"Right. Sorry, it... I wanted to say thank you. I know this must have taken a lot to organize and-"
"Steve. You don't need to thank me. Besides, I could never have done this on my own."
"Still... thank you." Steve is quiet for a moment, looking out to the busy city street. "What do you want?"
"This."
"No, what do you really want?"
"Yeah, this. Everyones together, having so much fun. We're gonna do a one-shot when you go to work tomorrow. And, uh... you're happy. I don't need anything more than that."
"Right," Steve clears his throat. He shuffles a little closer, so their sides are almost flush together, tentatively reaching out to hold Eddies hand. "You don't need anything else. What about what you want?"
"You know what I want."
"I want you to say it."
Steve leans over, bumping their shoulders together when he hesitates. He smiles, reassuring, and gives Eddies hand a squeeze.
"What do you want, Eddie?"
"You. I- I want you."
It's terrifying to admit, a horrifying leap... but the smile Steve gives him, so soft and happy, is more than worth it.
"As you wish."
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estrellami-1 · 10 months
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Writer prompt: Steve finding out about Murray getting Joncy together & rips into him for helping their relationship to end the way it did. Nancy & Jonathan realizing that their behavior was not only not acceptable but also cruel (esp Jon for taking the photos)
Hello my friend! I actually had part of this already written and I was trying to see if I was ever actually going to post it… and then you sent this prompt which actually (mostly) works! This focuses more on Steve ripping Murray a new one so I hope this is close enough to what you want! ❤️
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They’re having dinner. It’s a once-a-week thing Joyce had decided on, back when everyone was still healing, when they all needed the reminder that they made it out. Maybe not unscathed, but they’re out.
It’s during one such dinner she invited Murray to. She’d leaned over to everyone else, whispering, “I asked him to be on his best behavior.”
Steve doesn’t know how they end up here. How they end up with Murray essentially patting himself on the back for getting Nancy and Jonathan together, then just as suddenly turning to Steve and Eddie with a wicked glint in his eye.
He’s talking, and Steve’s getting mad. He doesn’t care what wild theories Murray comes up with for him. But he’s targeting someone who’s clearly uncomfortable with the attention.
Eddie’s withdrawing. His hands are in his lap, his head’s bowed, his shoulders are hunched.
Steve is livid.
“That’s enough,” Steve says suddenly.
Murray pretends he doesn’t hear. “Of course, it’s not like any of you’d care about that,” he says, gaze lingering first on Robin, then Will.
Steve stands and slams his hands on the table. “That’s enough,” he says again, louder. He’s shaking. Eddie won’t look at him. He can’t feel his face, doesn’t know what expression he’s making, but he’s so, so angry. “Did it ever occur to you that the couple you were oh-so-happy to finally get together meant she cheated on me? Did it ever occur to you that you only knew one side of the story? That I was fucking sixteen years old and a girl died in my pool. I was sixteen and trying to contend with the fact that I was living in a goddamn haunted house. And I’m sorry I wasn’t enough,” he tells Nancy. “I tried, though. If you don’t believe a single thing I say, believe that. I tried.” He sighs, shakes his head, looks down at the table for a second before settling his gaze back on Murray. “Did it ever occur to you that people should get to make their own goddamned decisions? Regardless of someone’s sexuality, pushing people together is never okay. Regarding their sexuality, you don’t get to take that choice away from them. Regardless of who’d be okay with it. That is their choice and you stripped a basic human right away from them.” He leans over, looks Murray right in his eye. “I used to be like you. I used to think I had to be perfect, had to know everything, everyone. Had to have all the answers. But what happens when you don’t? What happens when you don’t know, Murray? What does that make you?” He pauses for a second; just enough time for Murray to open his mouth. “Human,” he continues. Murray’s mouth closes again. “It makes you fucking human. So let us be human, too. Just shut your goddamned mouth for once in your life before I do it for you. Permanently.” He narrows his eyes at Murray. “I took on a Demogorgon with a bat. I took on a Russian soldier with nothing. I’ve been to the Upside Down and back. Don’t fucking test me.”
The silence is palpable.
“Well,” Murray says finally. “Lovely meal as always, Joyce-”
“Just leave,” she says, quietly, but no less severely. He pauses, then nods and leaves.
The silence is unbearable.
Steve’s chair is loud as he scoots it back. “Excuse me,” he murmurs, making his way around the table to get to the stairs. “I’m not hungry.”
He doesn’t look up at anyone. He doesn’t see Robin, teary-eyed and proud. He doesn’t see Eddie, shell-shocked. He doesn’t see Nancy, crying.
He doesn’t see Will, terrified and grateful.
He sees his shoes as he walks up the stairs, making his way into one of the first rooms he finds. Thinks it’s Will’s, based on the decorations.
He numbly makes his way to the bed and slides down to sit on the floor, back against the comforter. He buries his head in his hands and tries to remember how to breathe.
He doesn’t know how much time passes before he hears careful footsteps. He knows he’s visible from the hallway. He can’t bring himself to care.
The footsteps enter the room he’s in. “Stevie?” Eddie asks cautiously. “Are you okay?”
Steve sniffs, even though his eyes are dry as ever. “Ask me again when I stop shaking,” he murmurs, giving an absent smile at Eddie’s huff of laughter.
“Mind if I sit?”
Steve lifts his head, looks at Eddie. He’s got his head cocked hopefully, glancing at the ground by Steve. Steve pats it, and Eddie’s smile grows. “Joyce is officially my favorite of the moms. And the scariest. She laid into Jonathan and Nancy. But, uh. I think everyone else is okay.”
There’s enough emphasis there to make Steve pause. He knows about Will, then.
He’s brought back to the present when Eddie sighs. “Y’know, that guy’s a real dick. Like, an absolute, grade-A douchebag. But, uh. He’s not wrong. About me.”
Steve glances at him. Watches him playing with his fingers. “Yeah?” Steve asks, almost not recognizing the hopeful tone in his voice. Eddie looks over, and Steve smiles. “Me too.”
Eddie moves a hand, tentatively intertwines it with one of Steve’s. Steve squeezes back. “I can’t- my brain, it’s too-” he waves a hand around his head- “to do anything else. But. This is good.”
“Yeah,” Eddie agrees, squeezes back.
A few minutes later Will pokes his head in. “Steve? Eddie?”
Steve turns a tired smile on Will. “Hey.”
Will blinks. “Um. Hey. Can I come in?” Steve pointedly looks around. Will snorts and walks in, settles criss-cross on the floor in front of them. “I, uh. Wanted to thank you, Steve. For. Um.” His breath hitches. “Just. I know nobody would care? But it’s. I feel like it would be a big deal. But anyways I care, and I’m just. Really grateful.” His breath hitches again, and a teardrop hits his hands where they’re clasped in his lap.
“Oh, Will,” Steve murmurs, squeezing Eddie’s hand once before dropping it and holding both arms out to Will.
Will crawls forward and collapses into Steve. “That was really scary,” he murmurs. Steve hums in agreement.
Suddenly Will looks up. “Are you okay? He- he just told everyone, and we don’t even know if it’s true or not, and then you- you completely shut him down, which was awesome, and you’re kinda my hero, but- are you okay?”
“I’ll be alright,” Steve promises, looking over at Eddie, asking wordlessly. Eddie nods. “He was right. About both of us. And all of that. Honestly, my comfort was the last thing on my mind downstairs. I know the words people use. Hell, I know the words I used, before your brother knocked some sense into me.” He widens his eyes exaggeratedly at Will, who giggles. “And I just thought… it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter if it’s true or not. Words can hurt, and I’m done with people I love being hurt. Especially when I can stop it. So… I did.”
“You did,” Eddie agrees, beginning to giggle. “You threatened him, Stevie. That was fucking metal.”
Steve laughs then, squeezes Will tighter to him and leans over to rest against Eddie, content. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” Will agrees. “You’re okay, though?”
“I’m alright,” Steve promises him.
Will turns to Eddie. “Are you okay?”
Eddie smiles, ruffles Will’s hair. “I’m alright, Baby Byers. How’re you holding up?”
Will thinks, then nods. “I’m okay,” he says. “Um. Jon and Nancy are at the Wheelers’. Everyone else is still downstairs. Are you-”
“In a minute,” Steve answers wryly. “I’m still shaking.”
Will snorts, tucking his head into Steve’s chest. “I think I’ve been shaking ever since he looked at me.”
“It’s the eyes, right?” Eddie asks. “Like they’re looking into your very soul.”
“Yeah,” Will laughs. “They’re unsettling.”
Steve sighs, lets go of Will with one hand, lets it fall onto Eddie’s. He squeezes briefly, smiling when Eddie twines their fingers together.
Will watches silently. “Were you together before he said anything?”
“No,” Eddie admits. “But I don’t think it would’ve taken much longer. We were already most of the way there.”
Will nods. “And I guess I don’t have to ask if you know about me.”
“Why don’t you tell us?” Eddie gently suggests. “He hasn’t taken that choice away from you yet.”
Will nods, takes a breath. Whispers. “I’m gay.”
“Same,” Eddie grins, offering a high-five. Will looks at him, surprised, before clapping their hands together.
They both turn to Steve, who chuckles. “I’m bisexual. I like both.”
Eddie’s grin widens. “Like Bowie.”
Steve snorts. “That’s exactly what Robin said.”
Eddie waggles his brows. “Great minds, and all that jazz.”
Will and Steve both chuckle at that. Will leans back, and Steve lets him go. “Thank you,” he murmurs. “For what you said, earlier. And for just now. Um. I’m okay. And Mom bought ice cream and that sounds really good right now.”
Eddie snorts. “Go on,” he says. “We’ll be right down.”
Will smiles and walks out, and Eddie turns back to Steve. “Okay?”
“How many times are people gonna ask me that,” Steve faux-grumbles, leaning further into Eddie. He sighs. “I really think the best answer I can give is I’ll be okay. I really wasn’t thinking about myself at all.”
Eddie hums. “What were you thinking about?”
Steve huffs out a semblance of a laugh. “Honestly? You. You’d shut down, you were staring at the table, your shoulders were curled in, you wouldn’t look at me… and then he looked at Robin, and Will, and I just saw red. Like I said, I’m done with the ones I love being hurt. It’s- it was never about me. Not this.”
Eddie tilts his head. “It kinda is, though? It was about us, and you’re a part of us, Stevie.”
“Well,” Steve says, then sighs and gives up, tucking his head onto Eddie’s shoulder. “You said Joyce laid into Nance and Jon?”
“Mhm. Terrifying, I tell you. Like that mom look, y’know? But even worse because she’s been through all this shit and knows all your secrets.”
Steve snorts. “How’d they take it?”
“Nancy was crying before Joyce started. I don’t think Jonathan did at all, but who knows what happened once they left.”
“Crying?”
“Mhm. I wouldn’t be surprised if she comes around the next few days, looking to apologize.”
Steve snorts. “That’ll be the day.”
“I might hang around the next few days. I’d like to see it.”
“I want you to hang around.”
Eddie smiles down at him. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. Anything more than this, tonight, I think wouldn’t be a good idea. But you could come over? We could sleep? Talk in the morning?”
“Sounds perfect,” Eddie says warmly. “But first, ice cream?”
Steve chuckles. “But first, ice cream,” he agrees, and together they walk downstairs.
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So as I said I had (part of) this done before (the last hundred words or so I just added to help tie it all together), so it doesn’t end as nicely as I’d like. I think Nancy and Jonathan absolutely need to apologize, yes, but I also felt it was important for Steve to say that, to stick up for his friends, and to apologize to Nancy, even if he didn’t need to; it just felt very in-character, like he thinks everything’s his fault, so he’d apologize; but he’s also very loyal and protective, so Mama Bear Steve came out the second Murray looked at Eddie, Robin and Will. Eddie and Steve and Will for the win, I LOVE the dynamic we’ve cooked up for them (because the producers are too chickenshit to let them bond the way they absolutely would), and off-screen Robin and Steve have another bathroom moment with her ripping him a new one in the way of “you need to take care of yourself, dingus, we’re fine, thank you for protecting us but Jesus Christ protect yourself for once-” and then absolutely proceeding to smother him in a hug.
Anyway. I hope you liked it!! I may do a part 2 with Nancy and Jon’s apologies but it depends on if writers’ block keeps kicking my ass the way it has been.
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scoops-aboy86 · 3 months
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More of the love spell no go au, because of course I did. This one is a little more bittersweet, because it covers the start of Steve's reaction to both the Russian torture and creeping dread that the Upside Down stuff will keep coming back.
He and Eddie are still close! But Steve is about to make some reluctant choices about his eating and activity habits, because he views it as his duty to help keep everyone he cares about safe.
Part 1, part 1.5, part 2
The day Eddie walks up to Scoops Ahoy and it’s still shuttered, he immediately knows that something is wrong. He has Steve’s schedule memorized, and even if he’d called out Robin would still be here. Uneasy, he goes back out to the parking lot and tries casting a locator spell in his van, sweat dripping into his eyes because the AC is still on the fritz. 
According to the spell, Steve is miles below the mall. That can’t be right. And usually when Eddie’s magic is a flop he keeps getting different wrong answers, like a math problem that you know you’re forgetting a step somewhere but can’t figure out what it is no matter how many times you do it over. This is consistent: below the mall. Or, below the mall and shifting gradually towards the left at a reasonable walking pace. 
It’s so weird that Eddie speeds home and wakes Uncle Wayne, which is usually something he avoids doing but this feels important. Wayne helps him with the spell, but the result is still the same. All Wayne can do is shrug and tell Eddie to trust his intuition when it comes to magic, because making it work through the earth like that can be tricky but Eddie must have at least been casting strong to get such consistent results, and goes back to bed. 
Eddie’s confidence in his magic has frankly been shattered ever since the love spell backfired, and he’s actually woefully out of practice for that exact reason. But he drives to approximately directly above where Steve is (a field maybe a mile or two from the mall) and starts casting whatever protection spells he can think of. One of them might only protect Steve from getting cavities, or it might prevent the loss of entire teeth and/or finger and toe nails. He’s not sure. But hey, the dude works in an ice cream shop, better safe than sorry right?
The downside of being so out of practice is that Eddie wears himself out. He keeps at it for most of Wednesday night and Thursday morning, but passes out around afternoon and wakes up in the back of the van after dark drenched in sweat from laying in the van all day even with the windows cracked open, probably lucky he didn’t get heat stroke. At first he can’t figure out where he is or what woke him, but he stumbles outside and sees a plume of smoke rising from where Starcourt Mall used to be, and…
Steve is just walking over to check on Nancy and Jonathan when Eddie’s van screeches up and Eddie himself jumps the barrier that’s supposed to keep civilians out. That’s the first word that comes to Steve’s mind—civilian—because for a few months there he’d managed to forget. But his head hurts, his face hurts, he’d nearly had a fingernail pried off until Robin had blurted out about the code, and the military guys still had yet to find his car keys that the Russians had confiscated. Steve is tired and hungry and still waiting to find out how bad the car crash (which he hadn’t mentioned to the paramedics, one too many things to remember at the time) fucked up his neck, and he forgets to self-moderate. He drops his shock blanket to grab Eddie in a clingy hug, eyes shut tight as he huffs “Don’t ask what happened, just don’t” into Eddie’s shoulder. 
The scents of leather and weed have never been more comforting before. 
“Hey Munson,” Robin says tiredly, wandering over. “We’re friends-in-law now.”
“What?” Eddie manages over Steve’s disheveled, unwashed hair. 
“Steve and I threw up together and became platonic soul mates,” she explains. 
“Trauma bonded,” Steve adds, still into Eddie’s jacket. Which kind of explains it a little better. Sort of. 
“Not asking,” Eddie decides after a confused moment. “Platonic soulmates, got it. Uh…” He looks around helplessly, recognizing Nancy and Jonathan in the background but no one else in the crowd and he’s just. Standing here with a magnificent hangover and an arm full of Steve Harrington in a bloodied sailor suit. “Anyone need a ride home?”
Only Steve and Robin take him up on the ride, which is fine. He drops Robin off first, and as he’s pulling out of her driveway Steve says, “I don’t know if it’s okay to go to sleep with a concussion.”
Eddie eases the break back on and turns to stare at him. “You have a concussion?”
Steve blinks slowly back at him. “Yeah, kinda.”
“Well… didn’t the EMTs tell you what to do? Like, how to tell if you should go to a hospital or something?”
He shrugs. “I don’t remember. Um… my parents aren’t home though, so I don’t know… Could I stay with you?”
Immediately Eddie thinks of Steve’s big house in Loch Nora, which he’d skulked around a time or two to sell at parties and pine from a distance, compared to the single-wide Munson trailer in Forest Hills. “I don’t know if you’d be comfortable—”
“It’s too much empty space,” Steve says, and there’s a look in his eyes that Eddie hasn’t seen since the first few times he bought weed. Like he’ll sit up all night jumping at shadows. And Eddie gets not wanting to be alone after being in a mall fire (apparently?), but what had put that look there before Starcourt?
“… My place it is.”
Medically, Steve is actually fine to stay alone. He hadn’t been the last time around, after Billy had cracked that plate on his skull, and that’s why Hopper had sent him home with Dustin once the gate was closed; Mrs. Henderson had been a nurse before turning to telemarketing as a way to stay home more with her son. As sure as Steve had been at the time that the Russians had beaten him harder than that, he’s much better then than he had been in November. 
Except he’s not. Because Hopper is dead, and even with the gate closed this shit had still managed to come back, and that makes Steve the man of the group but he’s too scared to sleep in his own house, which is full either of dark ceilings for monsters to crawl out of or light bulbs that could start flickering at any moment. So instead he’s here lying on his side, freshly showered and back to back with Eddie on a twin bed that feels like it’s seen better days. Staring at the bedroom door because the thought of sleeping with his back to it had made his throat feel tight. Maybe that was the whiplash, but he doubts it. 
Steve knows in his bones that the Upside Down isn’t done with Hawkins yet. He needs to train, to get ready… There’s Robin and Erica to think about, freshly drawn into this, one basically all his fault and the other too young to be dealing with horrors like this no matter whose fault it was. There’s Dustin (electrocuted that Russian doctor to death) and Max (watched Billy die) and the rest of the gremlins (Eleven, fuck, she just lost her dad), freshly re-traumatized and just two months out from entering the meat grinder that was freshman year at Hawkins High. If nothing else, he has to be strong for them. Which means…
Steve sighs, hugging himself tightly under the thin sheet. This whole summer he’d been leaning into doing whatever he felt like, and it hadn’t exactly prepared him for an emergency situation. He’d gotten lucky knocking out that one guard, sheer body weight leaning an extra oomph to the hit he’d landed, and that had ended the fight pretty quickly. But it hadn’t gotten him into the room with vent access fast enough to avoid getting himself and Robin captured. Being on the verge of needing to order the next size up in his work uniform hadn't lent him any protection against that Russian truth serum. All his summer of indulgences had led to was eating multiple bags of trash corn while trying to comprehend Back to the Future, which… not his proudest moment, really, but he had been drugged. 
Anyway. The point is, he needs to get back in shape. He is not going to turn into King Steve again, but maybe if he could just get some of it back. Start jogging and working out again, and not indulging his sweet tooth all the time. It’ll suck, but he’s gotta protect his friends—protect Eddie, who hopefully will never have to know about monsters and Russians and little girls with mind powers.
So Steve spends a sleepless night mourning the ice cream cones on his lunch breaks, and extra burgers or slices of pizza whenever ordering takeout, and the way Eddie watches him sometimes. And that last one… Maybe it won’t go away entirely, because they’re close now. Close enough that Steve can apparently just invite himself over and Eddie just lets him without protest, and Steve likes the trailer, likes that it’s small and cozy and actually looks lived in and loved. 
Around dawn, he rolls over and tentatively snuggles up against Eddie’s back, tucking an arm around him when Eddie moves unconsciously towards him rather than away. 
It’ll hurt to lose any of this. But he knows that Eddie will be some amount of disappointed in him for falling back into the jock mold, so… he just wants to hold on a little longer.
Tag list (comment to be added): @hotluncheddie
Part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11
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gerrystamour · 1 year
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i could be honest, i could be human [Chapter 3]
Rated E | Steddie
[ FIRST PART ] [ NEXT PART ]
Summary: “God actually hates me, He has to,” Steve muttered darkly, tipping his head back to look up at the sky. “Kinda rich, coming from God’s favourite Golden Child,” Eddie said, coming around in front of Steve. Seeing his tears, Eddie’s grin faltered. “Shit, who hurt you, Harrington?”
Chapter Three: October 1984
If it didn’t suck so much, Steve would probably laugh about his situation.
Once again, he felt sorry. Not for himself at the moment, even if it felt like he had been gutted, his chest hollowed out with a dull knife. Mostly, he felt sorry for hurting Nancy all over again. The first time he hurt her, it was him being cruel because he was hurt. This time, it was him trying so hard to make things normal for both of them again.
Maybe he felt a little sorry for himself, he thought sadly, his heart heavy with hurt.
He sat at the far side of Tina’s backyard on a bench that faced the forest, smoking a cigarette and trying really hard not to actually cry.
“Hey, Steve?”
Looking up at the sky, Steve blinked rapidly to compose himself before he glanced over his shoulder. “Hey Jonathan, what’s up?” he greeted, his voice only a little shaky.
“Is everything—I saw you come out here, and Nancy is—?” Jonathan stopped abruptly when Steve blinked a tear loose and it streaked down the cheek he could see.
“Shit,” Steve hissed as another tear fell and he scrubbed at his face roughly. “Fuck!”
“Is there some way I can help?” Jonathan asked, soft and genuine, and Steve wished he could be mad at him. If this happened a year ago, he definitely would have snapped at him, maybe even hit him just for seeing him cry.
Blowing out a gusty breath, Steve nodded. “Can you get Nancy home? She’s had a lot to drink and she doesn’t want me—my help,” he said quietly.
“Hey, don’t say that, she loves—” Jonathan started, and Steve cut him off with a sharp sound.
“Jonathan, please. I don’t—just… Make sure Nancy gets home okay?” Steve nearly begged, pinching the bridge of his nose as another stupid wave of tears welled up.
“Yeah, man, totally,” Jonathan said and he grabbed Steve’s shoulder with a gentle firmness that went a long way toward comforting him. “You okay to get home too?”
“I live down the street, man, I’m fine,” Steve chuckled, his voice still wavering and a bit watery.
“Oh, right, I guess I forgot,” Jonathan laughed, and that actually brought a bit of a real smile to Steve’s face. He must have been doing something right over the past year for Jonathan to forget that his parents were rich. “See you at school?”
“Yeah, see you at school,” Steve replied with a nod, patting Jonathan’s hand where it still held his shoulder before the other boy let go.
With a heavy sigh, Steve leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, hanging his head while his forgotten cigarette slowly burned down. He had been quitting that stupid habit, which he’d only picked up in the first place because Tommy smoked. Nancy always made a face when he would lean in to kiss her, even hours after he had smoked, so he gradually just stopped entirely. Of course, now that he was apparently cut loose from that relationship, he was back to his old habits. Would he go back to being King Steve, supreme asshole of Hawkins High? Reclaim his throne from that piece of shit Billy Hargrove?
Was he only a good person because he thought Nancy Wheeler was in love with him?
A new wave of tears welled up and he choked around a sob that stuck in his throat like shards of glass. He let the tears happen this time, staring listlessly down at the ground between his feet, miserably trying to figure out where his performance for Nancy ended and his actual personality began.
When he couldn’t immediately determine that answer, he let out a sighing sob.
He was probably too drunk to be thinking about it.
A shoe scuffed the ground just behind Steve and he tensed, screwing his eyes shut and pinching the bridge of his nose. Of course Jonathan didn’t actually walk away, too soft to leave his former-bully and sort-of-friend crying on Halloween.
“Byers, I swear to God, if you don’t go take care of Nance like I asked, I’m going to barge into the dark room every time you’re in there until I graduate,” Steve threatened half-heartedly. He somehow already did that more often than he cared to admit, but that was neither here nor there.
“Not Byers, Your Majesty.”
“Jesus Christ,” Steve hissed, sitting up to take a long drag from his cigarette.
Eddie chuckled behind him. “Damn, you’re bad at this, Harrington. Guess again.”
“God actually hates me, He has to,” Steve muttered darkly, tipping his head back to look up at the sky.
“Kinda rich, coming from God’s favourite Golden Child,” Eddie said, coming around in front of Steve. Seeing his tears, Eddie’s grin faltered. “Shit, who hurt you, Harrington?”
Steve bristled, and the thought of telling Eddie anything about what happened in that bathroom… he would legitimately rather take on a Demogorgon again.
“Can we just get this over with, Munson?” Steve asked tiredly, wiping the tears off of his cheeks. To his frustration, they were immediately replaced with fresh ones.
“Get what over—?”
“Y’know, where you laugh at me, call me a bitch or a pussy, and then leave me alone,” Steve said, trying for angry, but he was apparently too sad to muster it and just sounded depressingly resigned.
When Eddie didn’t immediately say anything, Steve met his gaze. The other man’s expression was startling, honestly. It wasn’t the gleeful, delighted expression Eddie had worn outside The Hawk, or any variation of the smiles that seemed to be a permanent feature on his face. He looked… afraid?
At least that would be how Steve would normally identify the wide-eyed, slack-jawed expression. Then again, Steve had determined over the past year of casually noticing Eddie that wide-eyed was more like his default setting.
Eddie finally shut his mouth to clear his throat before shaking his head. “Nah, man. It’s only funny when you’re bleeding,” he said, shoving his hands into the pockets of his worn leather jacket.
“What?” Steve scoffed, sneering up at Eddie.
“I don’t like laughing at people who’re crying,” he elaborated with a shrug. “It feels like punching down, even if they probably deserve it.”
“Gee, how fucking kind of you,” Steve grumbled, tossing his cigarette to the ground and snuffing it with his shoe.
“Seriously, Harrington, what’s this all about?” Eddie asked, and Steve hated how genuine he somehow made his voice. Like he actually cared. “Did Byers do this too?”
“Jonathan?” Steve laughed, shaking his head and chewing the inside of his cheek. “Nah, he was just checking on me. I was like this before he showed up.”
After a few moments of silence between them, Eddie sat down next to him and leaned back, spreading his long arms across the back of the bench. “If it wasn’t Byers, who was it?” he asked before affecting a knowing look. “Was it that dick, Billy? Did losing your title as King Douche of the Keg do this?”
Steve laughed and something fluttered in his chest at Eddie’s pleased expression. “For the record, no, this has nothing to do with that bullshit—” Steve cut himself off, sighing heavily and tipping his head back to look up at the sky again. Nancy’s words came back to him in a rush, about the party being bullshit, him being bullshit, their love being bullshit. Steve shook his head and said, “it doesn’t matter. I did this to myself.”
“You… made yourself cry?”
“Yeah, because I’m just… bullshit, y’know?” Steve said, frowning as he idly tried to identify whatever constellations he could remember.
“Well shit, Harrington. I could’ve told you that years ago and saved you the drunken epiphany,” Eddie teased, lifting a hand to shove Steve’s shoulder lightly and knocking another proper laugh out of him.
“You’re not wrong, Munson,” he murmured with a little smile. Despite that, more tears spilled down his cheeks and he hissed, “fuck, I hate this. I just want to go home.”
“How about you just go home then?” Eddie asked as he draped his arm around the back of the bench again.
Steve sighed, rolling his eyes. “Can’t go home like this,” he replied.
Eddie tilted his head. “And… why not?” he pressed, and Steve jumped when he felt Eddie’s thumb begin to idly stroke the cap of his shoulder. 
It was a motion that seemed thoughtless, like it was just what you did when your hand was resting near someone else. It was weird for a guy to be doing that with him, and Steve knew he should probably pull away, but it felt… nice, especially with how upset he was.
“Hello? Earth to Harrington?” Eddie crooned in his ear, waving a hand in front of his face.
“Sorry, what?” Steve said, shaking his head a bit.
“I asked why you can’t go home like this,” Eddie reminded him, an eyebrow raised.
‘Because my dad might still be up.’ “I just can’t, Munson, drop it,” he finally replied, fear and shame twisting in his gut along with his heartbreak. When he returned his gaze to Eddie’s, the expression on his face was a mixture of skepticism and understanding.
Silence stretched between them, Eddie’s thumb switching from rubbing Steve’s shoulder to lightly tapping out a beat. “Want a joint?” Eddie asked suddenly, and Steve blinked at him in confusion.
“I don’t have cash on me, man,” Steve managed to say after a moment when his tipsy brain caught up. “I wasn’t planning on—”
“I’m not trying to sell you anything,” Eddie interrupted, shaking his head. “I was going to smoke one anyway. We can share.”
Steve glared suspiciously. “What’s the catch? There has to be some kind of catch,” he accused. Finally, Eddie’s mean smirk rose to his face.
“Why? Because there’d be one if you were offering?” he asked and Steve reared back a bit at that, properly angry.
“What? No! People who don’t like me generally don’t offer me free shit, Munson,” Steve bit out as he stood up to glare down at him.
Eddie glowered right back up at him, his mean smirk slipping. “I just felt bad for you. Was trying to be nice,” he said sullenly, and Steve felt a little bad for snapping at him. Only a little, though, because pity? From Eddie “The Freak” Munson? That was enough to fire him back up, even if he withered at his own unkind thoughts.
“I don’t need or want your pity, Munson,” he practically growled, hands balling into tight fists at his sides.
“Then why’re you out here crying?” Eddie snapped, his face twisted in a mean scowl.
“In here feeling sorry for yourself, Stephen?” The sound of belt snapping. “I’ll give you a real reason to cry.”
Steve swatted at an imaginary bug to disguise his flinch. Eddie was watching him with those stupid, wide brown eyes that seemed to notice and understand too much. He didn’t want to give him more ammo, more ways to get under his skin.
“Yeah, I was crying out here alone for pity,” Steve spat sarcastically, rolling his eyes as he turned around to leave. He would take his chances calming down in the forest, maybe get eaten by a Demogorgon or something. That would definitely spare him any more embarrassment.
“Harrington, wait.” A hand closed around Steve’s wrist, the grip firm enough to stop him but immediately gentled so Steve could pull away if he wanted. The cool, slender fingers and cold metal of Eddie’s rings against his wrist were grounding, kind of comforting, so Steve didn’t immediately pull away. Again, it struck Steve as something that was probably weird for two guys to be doing, but the physical touch did wonders to settle his head a bit.
“What?” Steve asked, his anger and embarrassment slowly bleeding out of him.
“I offered because I figured it might help you calm down, that’s it,” Eddie said, his big brown eyes looking up at Steve earnestly. “I do actually feel bad about you crying, because I mean it, I don’t like seeing anyone crying. And feeling bad isn’t always pity, y’know?”
Steve thought back to all the times he had insisted Jonathan share his lunches with him over the past year, always making excuses about not liking half of it or lying about eating too much breakfast. It was never out of pity that he did that. He had genuinely cared and wanted to share because he had enough to do so.
All of the anger left Steve at once, leaving him feeling hollow and exhausted. Numb. “I can’t just accept free shit from you, Munson, even if you want to pretend to share it with me,” he said after a few moments with a tired smile, then he shrugged. “That, and I can’t go home high either.”
Eddie watched him unblinkingly for several moments before he nodded slowly. “Yeah, okay. Makes sense,” he conceded, his thumb idly stroking the inside of Steve’s wrist.
The gentle touch sent goosebumps up Steve’s arm, right up the side of his neck and onto his scalp. His eyes flickered down to watch the movement, getting lost in it. There was a weird, warm weight that settled in his gut as he watched that thumb shift, each sweep making that feeling crawl up into his chest. Heat rose to his cheeks and that embarrassed fluttering returned to his chest.
Pulling his wrist away suddenly, Steve cleared his throat. “Thanks, though. For the offer,” he said, the words a bit stilted. “And I guess for getting me to stop crying after all.”
“Oh yeah, I guess I did,” Eddie laughed, and Steve was taken aback by how big his true smile was up close. How bright Eddie’s eyes lit up with it, and how deep the dimples formed in his cheeks. Steve had only ever seen that smile from across the cafeteria, and he had never had it directed at him. “How’d I manage that?”
“Being a dick, mostly,” Steve retorted, his tone teasing. The joke landed just the way he had hoped, keeping that huge grin on Eddie’s face as he laughed. The embarrassed fluttering got stronger in his gut.
“I’ll be a dick to you any day of the week, Harrington. Whenever you need it,” Eddie said, winking up at Steve when he scoffed.
“How generous of you, Munson,” Steve chuckled, rolling his eyes before taking a step backward. “See you around?”
Eddie’s grin settled into a smile. “You know it, Harrington,” he replied, spreading his arms wide along the back of the bench and tilting his head.
Steve glanced down the long line of Eddie’s body before clearing his throat. Waving awkwardly, Steve turned around and quickly left, practically jogging home.
When he got there, the house was dark and silent, his parents already in bed. No doubt he would have to deal with a lecture the next morning, but he would just get up early for a run and hopefully avoid them before he went to school. He paused in his plan, trying to do the mental math to figure out how early he would have to wake up to have time for a run and have enough time to pick Nancy up before school.
Steve abruptly stopped that train of thought; did he even have to pick her up? Should he?
The thought of showing up at her house in the morning to give her a ride to school after what she said was nauseating. He knew he wouldn’t be able to keep his composure if he had to be alone with her in his car which would be humiliating at best.
And what if she didn’t even remember what she said?
No, he wouldn’t be able to handle that first thing in the morning. He shouldn’t be expected to handle that first thing in the morning.
A spark of anger finally ignited inside him at that thought. 
Steve was fucked up from everything that happened last year, too. Maybe not the same way Nancy was, but his pain mattered, too, didn’t it? And yeah, maybe the way he had been dealing with it wasn’t great, but it wasn’t any worse than how Nancy was, right? It was completely reasonable to try to find some normalcy, to move on, to try to stop seeing a dead girl every time he looked at his pool, or glanced at the woods behind his house. It was reasonable and sane to just try to survive his senior year.
Steve didn’t have to feel bad for not mourning Barb or carrying the guilt of her death the same way as Nancy. He didn’t have to feel bad for being scared of the people who made them sign confidentiality paperwork while armed guards stood over them. He didn’t have to feel bad for just wanting to keep his head down, graduate high school, and get the hell out of that town.
Despite all of those self-righteous thoughts, Steve went to bed feeling sick to his stomach with his guilt and shame, thinking of all the ways he could have done better by Nancy, no matter the cost to his peace of mind.
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jo-harrington · 30 days
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Eddie Universe (A Modern!Steddie Story)
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Summary: After Eddie falls off the face of the Earth, Steve goes to do a wellness check, only to find that Eddie has spent the last few days binge watching a kids show.
Word Count: 2.9k
Pairing: Eddie Munson and Steve Harrington, implied future Eddie/Steve (Steddie)
Warnings/Themes: Beginnings of Crushes/EARLY EARLY Friends to Lovers, Unrequited Feelings, Minor Confessions, References to TV (Steven Universe), Implied bisexual Eddie and Steve (talking about giant women)
Note: This is a belated birthday gift to one of my great fandom loves @br0ck-eddie. Thank you to @deathbecomesthem for doing an early read through and @dr-aculaaa for inspiring me (and essentially having writing credits on this) with our little talk about Steven Universe and how Eddie and Steve would relate to these characters immensely. And everyone talks about Bubbline!Steddie...why not a little SU love?
This is my first time writing Steddie, even if it is in this sweet crush way, but that's kind of my style. And even if you don't want to read it as Steddie I think it still holds up to them as characters. And it's just a cute thing about loving Steven Universe and loving Eddie Munson; who could say no to that?
You can find my masterlist here.
Please do not interact if you are not 18+.
Enjoy!
---
It wasn't like Eddie to go radio silent.
In fact, it wasn't like Eddie to go silent. Period.
That was one of the best--or maybe worst--things about Eddie Munson. He was always making some kind of noise, literally and metaphorically.
Always playing his music too loud, always making some big announcement, always first to make a comment, always coming to his friends' defenses, always calling them out on their shit to.
Always, always, always.
That's why, when he suddenly stopped answering group texts, and he broke a pretty impressive snapchat streak, and he wasn't sending tiktoks, or even--unfathomably--cruising around town with his windows down and volume up, Steve knew something had to be up with him.
Well, ok, everyone was worried.
But he wasn't skipping classes, and he hadn't canceled band practice or Hellfire Club. So Eddie must have been alright...right?
Steve just wasn't convinced.
Which was why he'd made the trek across town to Forest Hills to check on his, and everyone else's, favorite metalhead after work.
He stood awkwardly on the stoop before knocking.
The van was parked outside, which was a good sign, but there was no music or other evidence of disruption, which wasn't.
He debated, for a moment, leaving to grab pizza or snacks or something--show Eddie that he was they were all thinking of him--but then would that look like he was inviting himself to stay?
Would Eddie even want him there?
Would this be a surprise? An intrusion?
He should have just texted first, or called. Yeah they were friends. and they were getting closer--"joint custody" of Dustin would do that--but...Eddie was definitely closer to Jonathan and Robin...hell, even closer to Nancy, than to Steve.
"Fuck it," he took a breath, reached out, and knocked on the door.
There was a muffled "oh shit" and a bump and crash, and then Steve took a step back as the door swung outwards and revealed the freak in question.
"Oh hey Harrington, thought you were the pizza guy," he grinned crookedly and then his expression morphed into something...nervous. "What's up? Is uh...everything ok?"
"Yeah, no," Steve shoved his hands into his pockets and rocked back onto his heels. "I...you haven't really been active in the group chat for a few days, wanted to come over and make sure everything was alright."
Eddie's eyes went wide and he slapped his hands over the pockets of his jeans.
"Shit, have I really?" he asked as he pulled out his phone.
"Yeah."
"Guess I thought I answered and never actually did--Fuck." Eddie's thumb slid over the screen several times as messages flashed by at an unreadable pace.
"Hey, it's ok!" Steve tried to assuage his guilt. "Nothing really going on except memes and fart jokes."
"Well those are my specialty so I'm really missing out on an opportunity for comedy gold." He huffed and shoved his phone into his back pocket and then ran a hand over his mouth. "I'm watching this show that Henderson keeps talking about at lunch. And it's silly but it's really addictive."
"Oh yeah?"
"Put an episode on as background noise and I ended up staying up til 2am the other night. Didn't even finish my homework."
"If you're not careful you're gonna end up failing again Munson," Steve joked.
"Ha, ha, very funny, but I seriously think I might," Eddie snarked.
"Which show?" Steve asked curiously.
"You're gonna laugh. It's this kids cartoon show...Steven Universe."
Steve recognized the name immediately; Dustin had been chatting everyone's ear off about the show for years. It was one of those things that none of the other kids really latched onto the way he did, and he was always a little desperate for someone else to get into it.
Fitting that his new role model was the one who finally did.
"Nice!" Steve nodded his head in approval. "Listen, I mean...he got me playing Pokemon Go with him a few years ago, walking in the woods and everything. And I still play every now and then. So if anyone's gonna judge it's not me."
"What?" Eddie scoffed good-naturedly. "King Steve playing P-Go? Never would've guessed."
Steve was going to throw a teasing insult right back when another car pulled up right behind his; he awkwardly shuffled to the side of the stoop as the delivery driver ran out of the car and up the steps with a massive pizza box.
"Hey, your dinner's here, I should leave you to it--"
"You could stay if you want," Eddie offered; his brows jumped up expectantly, suddenly hidden by his bangs. "Got an extra-large pepperoni that I'm definitely gonna make myself sick trying to eat it all. Catch a few episodes of Steven Universe? That way you can impress good ole' Dusty next time you see him; I'm sure it'd make his day."
And the thing was, the no was right there on his lips.
The excuses.
He didn't want to intrude on Eddie's night, he had other places to be, he really wasn't interested in watching the show.
But that's all they would be: excuses.
He was Eddie's friend and friends watched TV. Did he really want to go back home and maybe have dinner with his mom, if she was even home? He and Eddie never got to hang out alone; it would be fine.
"You know what? Sure."
---
So for the next however-many-hours pizza was devoured and sodas chugged and laughter shared as Steve and Eddie watched a silly little cartoon.
Except, and Steve was quick to find out, it wasn't just a silly little cartoon.
"Ok," Eddie announced around a mouthful of food as he clicked through the landing page of the show to get to some desired episode. "We can't watch everything, so I might as well show you the greatest hits and give you the rundown verbally."
"Greatest hits?" Steve asked incredulously. "Listen, Ed, I can't stay here all night."
"No, the episodes are only 10 minutes long," he explained. "That's why it's so addictive. You're just like...one more, ok one more, and the next thing you know it's been 6 hours."
Wouldn't you know it, 6 hours is exactly what it was in the end...
But those hours were full of Crystal Gems and Together Breakfasts and a journey of love and friendship and self discovery as they watched episode after episode and Eddie narrated all of the events in between in the ways only Eddie knew how.
And Steve was just mesmerized.
By all of it.
Especially Including Eddie.
It was not hard to be mesmerized by him, actually; once again, he was always loud, always Eddie. More often than not, you'd watch him and say something along the lines of "what the fuck?" All while laughing and carving a larger space in your heart for him.
Getting to see him on his own like this though, in a space where he was comfortable enough to let you witness the quiet and contemplative parts of him, it was something else.
It started with Greg.
"Almost like I'm looking into your future here Ed," Steve laughed as Steven's father and his long hair and his guitar and his van popped up on screen.
"Alright, you're laughing but seriously, why wouldn't I wanna be like Greg," Eddie told him. "He might seem like...I dunno, a deadbeat or something. But he's always there for Steven and he tries his best. He reminds me of my uncle Wayne a lot."
"Oh yeah?"
"Yeah. Honestly the best guy I know. The best guy a lot of people we know, know."
"Does that make you Steven, then? Because there's only one Steve in this room and it isn't you."
"Laugh it up, wise guy," Eddie shoved him to the side.
And then the music.
"I'm surprised you haven't broken out your guitar or something," Steve noted as Eddie hummed along to the theme song at the start of every episode and sang his own little rendition as he went to grab more soda from the kitchen. And Steve had to give it to him, all of the music was sweet and catchy, but Eddie's whole identity was music and he was acting pretty tame about it.
"I wanted to finish watching the whole series before I started fucking around with my guitar," he told Steve. "Might do some kind of medley or something with the guys. I dunno if they'd be into it and honestly they don't have a choice, if I'm gonna write it. It's gonna be metal as fuck."
"Well, don't forget to invite me to that show," Steve laughed. They both went silent for a second and Steve felt his cheeks get hot. "Uh...and Dustin. And everyone else. I think it would be fun."
"Yeah..." Eddie cleared his throat. "Yeah for sure."
And then just...about Steven.
"I do." Eddie announced suddenly and quietly at the end of Lion 3: Straight to Video, after Sadie and Steven watched Rose's message to Steven in the back of the Big Donut.
"You do what?" Steve questioned, discreetly rubbing his eye to prevent a tear from falling.
"I do see a lot of myself in Steven," Eddie continued, voice void of emotion. That emptiness was what made Steve turn to actually look at him, to see the wetness of Eddie's own eyes increase tenfold in a matter of seconds.
"Steven's mom died, left him alone to figure out all the harsh realities of the world for himself. And yeah he has his family and friends but...I dunno...it's not the same. Shit, I mean...I don't know what my life is like and I'm grown. Steven's just a kid...I just...yeah. Watching this I guess has been a really personal thing."
Steve felt his stomach drop. He knew a lot about Eddie--some truths from Eddie's own mouth, some things through the grapevine, some just rumors from his own days as Chief Douchebag at Hawkins High--but hearing the vulnerability...seeing it...it was different.
And Steve's heart ached a little bit, not to hear it all, but for Eddie to trust him with these feelings? With this confession?
He was about to open his mouth and thank Eddie for sharing that, but Eddie went ahead and started the next episode and the moment was gone.
---
Then there was just the inherent sense of love that just emanated through the entirety of the show that just made everything, dare Steve admit, click.
At first it was silly as they watched the Giant Woman episode.
"Who wouldn't want to see a Giant Woman?" Eddie joked as Steven sang.
"No seriously," Steve laughed along with him. "You know what, I know that I've dated a lot of short girls but I think a Giant Woman could pick me up and throw me and I would thank her."
Eddie punched him in the arm good-naturedly.
"You get it Harrington. You get it."
Every time the gems would fuse, Eddie and Steve would both gasp along with him. "A giant woman!" Complete with stars in their eyes and a joke about a crush they had growing up, and on and on.
And yeah sure, that's not what Steven meant whenever he saw one of the fusions, but Eddie and Steve were both icky young men with crude, lewd senses of humor. It was no more harm than a fart joke or humping an inanimate object.
What could you expect?
But then...Connie.
It was sweet, her and Steven. Their friendship, their determination to help one another, protect one another.
Their crushes on each other.
To Steve, they were like Max and Lucas over the years. They just tugged at your heartstrings, made you go awwww.
But then the episode Alone Together. And dancing on the beach. And Stevonnie.
"Woah," he scooted up to the edge of the couch. "They fused!"
"I know!" Eddie bounced in the seat beside him, beyond excited. "I know! Look at them. Steve, if I'm lying I'm dying, the episodes with Stevonnie are the best fucking episodes."
And that got the conversation going about fusion.
Because Steve thought Stevonnie was the dumbest name.
"Well what do you expect them to be called?" Eddie scoffed. "She's human, and he's not just a gem, he's Steven...they're not like...Con-va-nite or something."
"Stevonnie, that's like...if you called Nancy and Jonathan...Nance-a-than or something," Steve argued.
"Obviously they're Jancy," Eddie stated matter-of-factly. "There's an art to naming things Harrington."
"It sounds like you've already thought about this."
"Maybe I haven't, maybe I have. A magician never reveals his tricks. But fusion is cool."
"Alright, smart guy," Steve crossed his arms over his chest. "And what would Robin and I be? If we fused."
"Ok, ok," Eddie adjusted himself on the couch. "I'm torn between Rove...or Stobin. I'm leaning Stobin. And your weapon would be a whip made of the tape from VHS's or something."
"Seriously?" Steve screeched. "I think Stobin would have a cooler weapon than that."
That's how it went for a few minutes, mashing up all of their friends and creating fake fusion names for them and their weapons of choice.
And every moment Steve sort of dreaded the inevitable.
Dreaded wasn't the right word exactly.
Anticipated? Looked forward to?
Because fine. Yeah. Maybe he had a little bit of a crush on Eddie.
There. He said it.
It was just...alright weird was not the right thing to say. But yeah, weird. They had been...had they been enemies? He'd never thought of Eddie as anything more than a nuisance at one point. Yeah he had that hot metal guy thing going all through school, but how could there be any sort of romantic feelings there when there was so much adversity before?
How could Steve say that Eddie, the guy who pissed his name on the snow on the windshield of Steve's car once, was actually attractive? And cool. And funny. And in what world would Eddie say that Steve, the guy who once gave him an atomic wedgie on his birthday, was someone he wanted to go out with?
But from whatever they had been before, they'd slowly bridged the gap. Became better people, more tolerant people. Acquaintances, then friends, and now...yeah, Steve maybe had a crush on Eddie. And it was hard to tell but...
"How about us?" Steve finally asked. "Edeve. Edven. Steedie."
"Steddie," Eddie said confidently, looking Steve dead in the eye. No hesitation...maybe a bit of a blush dusting his cheeks but in the glow of the tv it was hard to tell. "We'd obviously be Steddie."
...maybe the feeling was mutual.
---
Eddie and Steve watched in relative silence for the rest of the evening.
A companionable silence, a comfortable one.
No more talk of fusions or giant women or Steddie.
Just Steve's questions about certain things he hadn't seen yet, in episodes they'd skipped, and Eddie's explanations.
Eventually, they caught up to where Eddie had left off when Steve arrived, and continued to binge without any skipping.
Time passed.
And a pointed *ding* from his phone finally pulled Steve's eyes away from being glued to the TV.
A text.
Rob: You forgot to pick me up, where the fuck are you?
"Shit," he cursed and saw the time. Well-passed closing time at the store.
Steve typed frantically.
You still need a ride?
The response was immediate.
Rob: If it isn't too much to ask for a lowly peasant like me, your highness-ness.
He typed a quick On my way! and looked over at Eddie, about to announce his fuck-up and apologize for leaving so abruptly.
But his eyes softened when he saw Eddie's head was tilted back, mouth open cutely and gurgling in a slight snore; his heart skipped a beat and butterflies erupted in his stomach.
Ok, it was a crush for sure.
He debated waking Eddie up and then decided against it. He simply hit pause to stop the show from getting too far and then made his getaway.
He crept across the living room, shoes in hand so he wouldn't wake Eddie on his way out, and made a mental note to text Eddie first thing in the morning.
It wasn't until he was pulling the door shut behind him that he heard Eddie's sleepy, muffled voice call out.
"Oh Steven!" Steve let the door creak open again as he ducked his head in to bid his farewells. Only for Eddie, with one eye peeped open and a cheesy grin spreading across his mouth, to beat him to it. "There's one more thing I forgot to mention."
Steve's words got caught in his throat and he felt himself blush as he anticipated the next words to come out of Eddie's mouth. Words that he'd just heard Garnet say just a few episodes ago.
"I love you, bye."
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kennahjune · 5 months
Text
Reread The Outsiders
Greaser!Eddie, Will, El, Dustin, and Jonathan and Soc!Steve, Mike, Max, Lucas and Nancy.
Steve and Jonathan having their fight at the beginning just like in the show and it knocks some sense into Steve as per usual.
Steve actually going out of his way to apologize to Jonathan on his own later that same night and having the door be answered by little Will. Will getting Jonathan and Jonathan and Steve stepping out on the porch to talk in private where Steve apologizes and actually admits that he fucked up.
But then Jonathan doesn’t fully forgive him (cause Steve said some pretty nasty things) and says something along the lines of “let everyone know just how sorry you are and maybe we’ll talk.” idk— but Steve then goes out of his way to apologize to both Nancy and Jonathan in the middle of the high school hallway and admits in front of everyone how much of a douche he was and how he wants to be better.
Eddie seeing this all happen and not knowing what the fuck is going on.
Rich Boy Harrington actually saying sorry? Admitting defeat? He calls bullshit. So he goes out of his way to watch Steve everyday after that— convinced it’s all an elaborate prank on poor Byers. But no. Steve is genuinely changing for the better.
And Eddie doesn’t believe that until Will and Dustin— some of Eddie’s favorite middle school sheep— are caught in the middle of a brawl with asshole socs Troy and James and the first people to help them are Steve, Mike and Lucas.
Mike and Lucas are just walking around. It’s like 10pm and really neither of them should be out right now but Ted was getting pushy and Mike needed some space. Space that included Lucas.
Will and Dustin are stumbling down the street, Will holding Dustin up after he got the worst of the hits. Will himself is sporting a nice black eye but he’s standing on his own— unlike Dustin.
Mike and Lucas are on them in a minute, both very worried and concerned for their wellbeing and health. Just as Mike is saying “fuck whatever Ted says you’re both coming home with me” Steve pulls up in the Beemer and they all get in.
When Steve asks if they have anyone they can call for Dustin (Steve already called Joyce and Jonathan) he insists on Eddie because his mom is asleep and doesn’t need to be woken up. She works an early shift in the morning.
Steve calls Eddie, seeing no problem with it as long as the kid is safe and happy and taken care of.
Eddie cannot believe that Dustin and Will got into a fight and honestly thinks it was Steve for a moment until Steve calms him down. Eddie and Steve chat, exchange numbers, and in no time Dustin is loaded in the van with Eddie and they’re off to the trailer park.
Joyce and Jonathan stop by as well, pick up Will and chat with Steve about what had happened. This is when Mike, Dustin, Will and Lucas form The Party.
They all exchange numbers yada yada.
The next day at school Jonathan and Nancy are both shocked to hear that Steve got into a fight with Mason Walsh and Rory Dante. Go figure; Steve had confronted them on how Troy and James had treated Dustin and Will the night before and they both were going on about how they deserved it. Throwing slurs left and right.
And well. Steve didn’t take that too kindly.
Needless to say, Steve’s parents are called and this is the moment that Jonathan and Nancy find out just who Richard Harrington is and why Steve used to be the way he was.
It’s also the moment that Hopper finally steps in and arrests Richard for child abuse and assault and all the good shit. But then his mom disowned him and Steve is suddenly on the streets. So Hopper also takes him in.
Which is where Steve meets El.
And idk where I was going with this but 60s Stranger Things AU with Greaser!Eddie x Soc!Steve :)
(With a side of Byler, Lumax (or Henclair and Elmax idk)
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quixoticall · 6 months
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This Could Get Ugly 5. Recording Studio 3B
Summary: It's 1983 and The Downsides need another lead singer and you just happen to need a band--it's a perfect match. The only issue? You have to pretend to be in a relationship with your bandmate, Steve Harrington, but you can't help but be drawn to the band's broody guitar player.
pairing: s.h. x fem!reader, e.m. x fem!reader, j.b. x n.w., r.b x n.w.
warnings: Brief mention of pregnancy, Steve in his King!Steve era briefly, again with the misogyny
A/N: Happy Stranger Things Day! I want to say thank you to everyone who's reading this old and new readers alike! Every notification makes me so excited and I'm just happy to be here, ya know?Listen, I know we're really Steve-centric right now but you got to trust me on this, we are laying a FOUNDATION here right? Remember we're covering six years' worth of drama and we are just getting started, trust me!
wc: 4.8k
MASTERLIST🎸
Previous Chapter 🎹🎺
***
STEVE: Yeah, I know I had fucked up. Like, as soon as the words were out of my mouth, I regretted them. I don’t know why I did it, I think I felt threatened or something. Listen, I think about what happened all the time and there isn’t one singular moment that we can pinpoint where everything went south, really, we all made mistakes, a lot of them. But sometimes, I can’t help thinking to myself that if I had just handled that day at the restaurant better, our whole lives would’ve been different. Or… who knows? Maybe not, maybe we were always meant to end as bad as we did.
***
June 7th, 1983–Los Angeles, California
A few days after your lunch with the Downsides, you see your own face peaking at you from the cover of a Subrosa magazine on a grocery store newsstand. 
You glance around before surreptitiously crouching down for a closer look.
It was a grainy picture of you and Steve, sitting across from one another at lunch, clearly in conversation. The picture had been taken from outside the restaurant and framed in such a way that it looked like it was only the two of you dining together. You can tell by the looks on your faces that it was before everything had blown up—the two of you looked like you were enjoying yourselves.
Sultry Songstress Sees Upside with the Downsides’ Flirty Frontman reads across the top of the page, and you gag. They sure do love their alliteration over at the Sub.
You briefly wonder to yourself what Steve and the others will think of this once they see it. Shrugging that thought off, you toss the magazine into your cart.
***
You actually find out pretty quickly what Steve and the others think about the cover later that evening when you receive a call from an unknown number.
“Hi, it’s Robin,” you hear from the other line as soon as you pick up.
“Hi Ro—”
“Robin Buckley, from the Downsides? I don’t know if you remember me, but we met at lunch the other day when my friend made a huge ass of himself and— ow, Steve that hurt, God.”
Sounds of some sort of physical struggle echo through the telephone line until you decide to interrupt.
“Hi Robin, of course I remember you and your ass of a friend, what can I do for the two of you? Also, how did you get my number?”
You’re more curious than bothered when you ask the latter question.
“Four.”
“Pardon?”
“Four. There are four of us. See, you asked what you could do for the two of us but it’s not just me and Steve. Nancy and Argyle are here too—” At this point, you hear a faint ‘hello’ and ‘what’s up’ from the background—"For the sake of full disclosure I felt that I should mention that. Jonathan is visiting his family in Lenora Hills, otherwise, I’m sure he’d be here too. Oh, and to answer your question I got your number from Murray.”
“Uh-huh.” 
You glance at your wristwatch; there’s a party in the Hills that you were planning on going to and you were going to have to leave soon if you didn’t want to be stuck in traffic all night.
As if she had read your mind, you hear some shuffling on the line before Nancy decidedly takes over the conversation with a much more serious tone.
“Hi, sorry to bother you this late but we wanted to ask if perhaps you had seen the latest issue of Subrosa? It seems like you and Steve are on the cover.”
Exhaling a laugh, you answer, “Yes, actually, saw it at the grocery store today, sorry you guys didn’t make the front page, I’m sure you’ll get them next time.”
“What? No, I mean, have you read the article? They’re printing lies about you both,” Nancy stutters out, indignantly.
“They’re saying that you and Steve had a private lunch and that he’s been seen sneaking out of the Hotel Mormont for weeks and that you might be pregnant? They’re even alluding to a fight breaking out between him and Jason Carver of all people.”
 This causes you to fully chortle.
“I wish, that guy deserves a few punches to the face. I wouldn’t worry too much about it, though, everything they say about me is a lie.”
“What do you mean? Aren’t they supposed to have some journalistic integrity? Don’t they get in trouble for printing lies like this? Have you tried to contact their editors about this?”
The confusion you feel about this conversation is outweighed by how weirdly touched you feel that these girls who had only met you once seem so offended on your behalf.
“No, I mean, it’s a gossip rag, not like The New York Times or anything,” you placate, “and after all the terrible things they’ve said about in the past, I’m kinda just glad they got a half-decent picture of me.  I appreciate you all calling about it though.”
And then, after a beat, you address the band’s lead singer, who has been oddly quiet throughout the whole exchange.
“I hope being pictured with me didn’t sully your reputation, Flirty Frontman.”
Really, you didn’t care if Steve was bothered by the whole thing, you just hoped that he wasn’t making his bandmates call you on his behalf. You didn’t know what to make of the guy quite yet. On one hand, he was completely sweet to you most of the lunch, he spent the meal asking you questions about yourself and refilling your drink without you having to ask. But the tantrum he had thrown reminded you a little too much of the dangerously self-absorbed musicians that had grown sick of these last few years.
“Me? No, I’m fine. Did you see how great my hair looked?”
You laugh silently at his answer. His hair did look great in the photo, but you were not about to give him the satisfaction of letting him hear that from you.
He continues, “Plus, they never really said anything terrible about me. They’re like, totally after you which is why Nance and Rob have been so worried, I guess. Are you good?”
His question comes out more hushed than everything else he’s said, and you are once again reminded of the earnest smiles you exchanged across the table a few days ago.
“I’m fine, Harrington, this is a regular Tuesday for me.”
With that, you bid goodbye to the band, citing your lateness, but not before expressing a very sincere thanks for their naïve concern.
The unexpected phone call makes you hit traffic, as you had predicted. You spend nearly an hour and a half in the back of a cab, the whole time, you can’t stop replaying the conversation you just had in your head.
Maybe there was more to the Downsides than met the eye?
***
This theory is proven, in part, after Hopper sends you a demo recording of some of their songs the following week.  
The Downsides, you quickly find out, are good, like very good. Their music is like nothing you’d ever heard before: experimental and fun but polished and very technically sound. Steve’s vocals are annoyingly impressive—his growly timbre grounding the lighter sound and keeping it from sounding too saccharine. You can see them dominating the charts and blowing The Letterman’s and every other one-trick band out of the water.
The track they wanted you to jump on was part of the demos Hopper had sent out. It was called “Feel It”, a romantic song, tinged with melancholy but paired with an upbeat synth sound.
You had been sent a copy of the lyrics that included a cue for you to come in.
You practiced your part for days, agonizing over how you wanted to deliver the lyrics, and eventually, you came up with exactly what you wanted to do after making some minor adjustments.
You were actually excited to record the song until you remembered that you would have to come face-to-face with the band’s two asshole guitarists again.
On the day of the recording, you tried your best to be early, but you had been up tossing all night which caused you to oversleep then you lost your keys, and you were moving at the time, so your things were all over the place. You also had to turn around and come back when you realized you had forgotten the gift basket of cookies you were planning on bringing for the band—something left over from a package Charles Riva's team sent you as an apology for him blowing you off. All in all, you were about thirty minutes late.
You pulled into the Starcourt parking lot a harried mess and as you rounded the corner into the studio, you could hear the booming voice of Eddie Munson.
“She’s probably stuck circling the parking lot trying to find some working-class sucker to park her car. Harrington, why don’t you go check out there? Maybe you’ll get papped again and get another 5 minutes of fame.”
You hear Steve respond and while you can’t make out the words, you can tell he’s annoyed, embarrassed, or possibly both.
You can see the faces of every other band member fall like dominos as they each caught sight of you rounding the corner to stand directly behind Eddie.
Eddie though doesn’t seem to pick up on what’s clearly written on all their faces and persists through his tirade, “She’s only coming for the photo opp anyway—she doesn’t care about any of this.”
It’s Argyle who finds his voice first, “Eddie, man, isn’t that her?”
Eddie whips around and with comically wide eyes, looks down at you, grimacing.
You consider telling the guy off but decide against it.
If there is one thing you have learned these years it’s that while the male artists can throw fits, yell, scream, and even damage equipment without anyone as much as blinking an eye, one emotional misstep from you and you would be branded a diva. They would say you were difficult, rude, and find any excuse to toss you aside like they had so many women before you and you refused to let them have that satisfaction.
So, instead, you smile at the band, eyes lingering on Eddie for just a moment longer than on anybody else, to let him know that you had heard him, and then say brightly, “Sorry I’m late everybody. I brought some cookies.”
***
EDDIE: Yeah, it was a dick thing to say, and I regretted it immediately and not just because she brought us cookies.
I wasn’t—that wasn’t me.
I was just so angry about everything that I had lost, and I didn’t know where to put it all and then she shows up: this rich, spoiled girl who just seemed to float through life without a single fucking care or struggle, and suddenly I had an easy target.
I felt bad about it until she changed my fucking lyrics.
***
Unlike their guitarists, most of the band seemed pleased to see you and you spent a few minutes greeting everyone and handing around cookies while Eddie and Steve kept their respective distances—Eddie, sulking in a corner and Steve doing a poor job at pretending to tune his guitar.
“Okay kids let’s give the voices some space to do their thing,” Hopper says waving them through the door sounding more like a disgruntled parent than a manager.
In the end, it’s just you, Steve, Murray, and the sound booth tech. The latter two are busy prepping the sound and mic, leaving you and Steve standing in the back.
“Hey, I wanted to apologize about what I said the other day at lunch,” he leans in close to your ear, his eyes transfixed on his shoes.
“I didn’t mean it—not really. I guess I was just lashing out because, well, they keep changing things about the band without even talking to us. First, they made us go pop, then they made me give up lead guitar to Eddie because his previous band didn’t want him anymore, and then it seemed like they wanted to replace me with you and like, it’s not that I wouldn’t want you it’s just that—well they never even asked what we wanted, you know? I was frustrated about that, and I took it out on you and I’m sorry about that.”
You watch him as he digs the toe of his sneaker into the carpet, eyes downcast, clearly waiting for you to respond. You’re too busy contemplating his words, however, because an apology was the last thing you were expecting from him, much less such a sincere one.
Out of all the difficult men you had dealt with in your life—producers, musicians, lawyers, managers, former flings, hell, even your own father—you had never received an apology from any of them regardless of how poorly they’d treated you.
Steve’s eyes finally trail up to meet yours, searching your face for signs that he didn’t say the wrong thing yet again.
Seeing no trace of dishonesty on Steve’s face, you decide to trust the apology for what it is and nod in acceptance.
“I get it,” you say, and truly, you did, “I’ve had most of my career decisions made for me, and a lot of times, they weren’t really what I wanted. It makes the whole thing feel kind of…empty, doesn’t it?”
His face floods with relief as he nods along in understanding.
“Yeah, like does success matter if we can’t do things our way? Me and Rob, we’ve been best friends since we were little and this has always been our dream and now that it may be coming true, it doesn’t feel like we imagined. I guess that’s kinda stupid though, expecting things to be like you imagined them as a kid,” he laughs at himself nervously.
“No, it’s not,” you counter, “that’s not stupid at all.”
You understand Steve’s disillusionment completely because it mirrors your own.
“Listen, I get how you feel, trust me, but you got to keep going. You guys are good, and I think you could all be big one day and then it’ll be you who’s calling the shots and then you can kick me and Eddie to the curb,” you clearly say the last part in jest but that doesn’t stop the shame that rolls across Steve’s face.
“Hey, don’t say that. You’re really talented and we’re lucky that you’re doing us this favor. We’d be even luckier if we could get you to stick around. Munson I could give or take, though.”
His joke makes you laugh so loud that Murray turns around and glares.
***
Steve was sent into the booth first to record his final vocals for the song, leaving you to observe.
As they set Steve up, your eyes kept bouncing over to the newly appeared Eddie, trying to figure out what exactly he was doing there.
“I wrote the song,” Eddie explains, after catching your eye.
“Oh,” you say, not bothering enough to hide your surprise, “well, congratulations, it’s a good song.”
You catch him eyeing the plate of cookies at your side. You open your mouth to offer him a cookie, but the echo of his words rings fresh in your mind, so instead, you reach for one and make a big show of savoring it.
Steve records his part of the vocals in five takes. He appears a bit nervous at first but eases into his groove rather quickly.
As the audio engineer is setting up the booth for you, you feel your own nerves rise. You wanted this to go well. You wanted to impress Steve and Hopper and even Eddie.
They signal you into the booth and the first two times, you record the song exactly how it’s written. Then, on the third one, you switch up the final chorus.
The original lyrics were: Fear in your heart, can’t conceal it/ But baby, my loves your cure, can’t you feel it? / Lay your hope bare next to mine/ and even if the world caves in, we’ll be fine
You changed the lyrics to: Fear in your heart, can’t conceal it/ But baby, my loves your cure, can’t you feel it? / Lay your flaws bare next to mine/ because when the world caves in, I’ll leave you cryin’
The change was slight, you thought, but meaningful.
The original version—Eddie’s version—was too hopeful. It was a boring portrayal of lovers staying with each other through thick and thin.
Your change added some conflict and dimension to the narrative. You made it better.
“What the hell was that?” Eddie pushed past Murray to yell into the mic that fed into the booth.
You roll your eyes at him dramatically interrupting your take, “I was just trying something out.”
Hopper pulled Eddie back by the shoulder while Murray wrestled the mic from him.
“Woah, sweetheart, pump the breaks. That was good. Better than the original. Can we run that one more time but with your lyrics instead? Harrington, we’ll re-record some of your parts too.”
Hopper has to all but carry Eddie out the door after he hears that.
***
EDDIE: The thing that pissed me off the most was that her version of the song was better. I just didn’t want to admit it because I wrote that song about Chrissy, about how even though I was so scared I was going to fuck up our relationship, she understood that and was willing to work through that with me. Her version was much closer to what actually happened and that hit a little too close to home.
***
“Woah, what did you two do to Eddie?” Robin demands as soon as you and Steve are dismissed into the hallway. “Hopper pretty much had to drag him out in tears!”
You worry at your bottom lip, caught in the wondering eyes of the group. At the time, you felt like you were doing the right thing, but now you wonder if you had forgone the common courtesy of at least letting him know you had changed the song. You didn’t want to come across as unprofessional as he accused you of being.
“I should probably go talk to him,” you say in response.
“Geez, Robin. Was the third degree really necessary there? This is just like last week’s DMV visit all over again,” Steve chastises as they all watch you walk away.
***
You find Eddie in the smoking area, cigarette in hand. “Hey, listen can we talk—"
Eddie turns dangerously to face you, cutting you off.
“You know what your fucking problem is? No one’s ever said no to you so you think you can do whatever the hell you want and that everyone else just rolls over and gives it to you because you’re so pretty and charming and rich.
“Well, you may have the rest of those assholes fooled but I see right through you, okay?”
Your eyes narrowed in response before you snap back.
"First of all, you don't know anything about me, so stop pretending that you do. I have worked hard to be here, just like the rest of you, and as far as this song goes, my name is going to be attached to it too, so I have just as much of a right to give input as you or Steve. It was wrong that I didn't say anything to you beforehand, sure, and I apologize for that, but let's not pretend that you've been the epitome of professionalism here either because you've been an ass to me since we've met, and I don't know why but I won't stand for it again. Fuck you, Eddie Munson,” you spit out before turning on your heel and stomping away.
***
EDDIE: That was hot, not gonna lie.
***
“Are you really going to let some mangy metalhead from Bumfuck, Nowhere keep you from finally doing what you want?” Murray asks exasperatedly when you call him to complain about the exchange later that night.
“Listen, I’ve recorded a lot of songs in that studio, some of them great, most of them mediocre, but today blew all of them out of the water. The band’s never sounded better and neither have you, frankly. If you gave up the chance to finally write your own songs and sound this good while doing it, that would be flat-out idiotic. You know that, right?”
The line goes still.
“Yes,” you finally say.
“Great, now that that’s settled, why don’t you get some rest, huh? Ruining Muson’s day must have tired you right out.”
You exhale a laugh before saying goodbye.
Although you would never say it to his face, you were grateful for Murray. It was nice having someone looking out for you.
***
MURRAY:  Brenner loved the track. After that, we had a very short time to make a lot of big things happen. The Downside’s debut album was already 70% recorded, but now that we had a whole other person on vocals, we had to scrap a good portion of the work they had already done and rerecord with our new vocalist. We couldn’t even celebrate our victory because we were just getting started.
Those poor kids had no clue what was coming.
***
When your phone rings a few mornings later, you suspect it’s Murray again with an update on the song, and while you’re right about the message, you’re wrong about the messenger. 
“Hi, it’s Steve, uh, Harrington. Obviously,” you hear a familiar voice crackle over the line.
“Oh? And to what do I owe the honor Mr. Obviously?” you respond.
“Oh, very funny. Listen, I wanted to call and let you know that we just heard from Hopper that Brenner and his guys liked our song, and they want us to continue, you know… recording together and stuff. So, yeah, would that be something you’re interested in… being a part of, you know, the band?” his voice wavers a bit as he asks.
“Is that even a choice?” you fire back, “I was under the impression that once Brenner gave the go-ahead, it was pretty much a done deal.”
He clears his throat in response, “I think you deserve to have a choice. I talked to the rest of the band, and they agree and if you don’t want in, we’ll back you… even if that means breaking our Starcourt contract.”
The line goes silent as you contemplate the gravity of what Steve has just said. The Downsides would be willing to put their own career at risk just to assure you the luxury of choice.
The answer was easy after that.
“I’m in,” you say after a few moments of terse silence. “I want to be a part of the band.”
You can all but see Steve pumping his fist on the other side of the line.
“That’s great! That’s great news. I’m glad my asshole tendencies didn’t put you off,” he laughs, relieved.
“I mean, it was a tough sell,” you tease back, “but I think we can be good together. The band, I mean.”
You wonder if you’ve said the wrong thing when his joyous peals of laughter stop suddenly at your words.
“Actually, um, about that,” he begins, once again nervously, “I’m really grateful that you’re giving us—the band—a chance and that you were nice enough to record the single with us in the first place. And, I mean, I know I’m already pushing my luck with the universe and you but maybe—uh, maybe today it’s my turn to be the luckiest guy in the world? Who knows?”
You have absolutely no clue what he’s getting at, and you let him know as much.
“Right, hm, I was wondering if I could take you out, on a date, to celebrate us becoming a band but also like, you know, a date. I know I made a total ass of myself, but I really like you, and I think you're gorgeous and talented and smart. I know I may not deserve another shot, but I would love it if you gave me one.”
You’re at a loss for words. First, you’re not even sure if you want to trust Steve fully, not quite yet. Sure, he apologized, but a part of you wonders if he only did it to get on your good side once he had seen how your pre-established infamy could serve him after that Subrosa article ran. Murray mentioned how radio runtime for the few EP songs The Downsides had in the rotation tripled since the publication. It definitely wouldn’t have been the first time you were being used like this.
Even if you could find it in yourself to look past that (and who knows, maybe you could?) there was still the matter of what Murray and Hopper had so delicately mentioned that day at lunch.
“I’m sorry, Steve, I don’t think that would be very professional. Especially on account of our…  front-facing, romantic narrative.”
“Our what?”
***
MURRAY: I thought that Hopper had gotten his team on the same page about the more personal aspects of the band’s arrangement, but apparently, I was wrong. None of them had any clue what was going on and the thing about running a ruse is that people that are in on it kind of have to know that they’re in on it.
A few days before we began re-recording, the girl called me all in a tizzy because she accidentally spilled the beans, not knowing that Harrington had no clue at all about the plan.
I then call Hopper; it turns into this whole thing. We had to arrange an emergency meeting with the two of them and the entire legal team.
A bit slow on the uptake, that Harrington kid, but he got there. Eventually.
He was harder to convince than the girl, though. At least she didn’t have a problem with lying to the public. But Harrington was all about that Midwestern “integrity” and “letting the music speak for itself”. Hop eventually had to spell it out real simple for him: either they do this, or the entire band was cooked.
STEVE: I guess after like 15 years the ruse is finally up, huh? Yeah, the relationship was fake. Or, at least, it started out that way. Listen, it was complicated and we’re getting ahead of ourselves.
But, if you’re asking about what I was thinking when they finally told me their plan, well, I wasn’t happy or on board at all. It felt like we had already given up so much of ourselves for this—like, where do you draw the line, you know?
But then Hopper reminded me that it wasn’t all about me: Nancy had dropped out of college to be in the band, Jonathan…he had his sick little brother to take care of, and even Munson was going to be in trouble if he didn’t fulfill his contract with Starcourt.
It was selfish to say no, in my opinion. And really, what was I losing? I got to make music for a living and parade around, pretending to date a total hottie while doing it. I mean, the only way it could’ve gotten better was if the relationship had been real.
***
After what feels like days—but is most likely hours—with the Starcourt legal team, you and Steve are finally released with a very long grocery list of instructions that include a minimum number of required public appearances; a very specific list of acceptable PDA; and interestingly, enough, a sample NDA in case either of you wanted to “be involved” with anyone on the side.
“Nothing says romance like NDA, right?” you weakly joke in an attempt to break the ice.
“How are you so okay with this?” Steve shoots back, seemingly stunned.
“Well, it’s not like this is my first rodeo, or my fourth, or my sixth.”
And before he can question further, you tell him everything, starting with Jason fucking Carver.
***
STEVE: I couldn’t believe it. They had been forcing her to pretend to be involved with all these guys for years. It was super fucked up, but she stuck with it. That’s how much she wanted it. How could I possibly let her down after that? Especially with my own selfish, dumb feelings? She was right, we needed to keep it professional, no matter how hard that was going to be for me.
NEXT CHAPTER 🎤
Taglist: @rexorangecouny , @persophonekarter
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ridestomars · 2 years
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SUNNY DAYS THAT WON'T EVER END ─ S. HARRINGTON
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𖥻 summary: in which you and steve take the kids to the beach. 𖥻 pairing: steve harrington x reader. 𖥻 warnings: none except bad grammar and lousy aesthetics (not my best ik). not proofread.
💭 liv's thoughts: i am in pain and i am suffering. this is how i decided to make myself feel less sad. i wrote this in reference to steve's road trip dream in s4. everyone's alive & well in this one :) title is also a reference to james taylor's fire and rain iykyk
DO NOT INTERACT WITH THIS WORK IF YOU’RE UNDER 16.
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"Oh my God, not this again!" you exclaim once you feel a hand brush your shoulder, sneaking its way to the van's radio. Turning your head around, you found Mike looking at you with that mischievous grin of his, which made you roll your eyes and go back to gaze at the road ahead. "Will you stop doing that?"
"It's not my fault you only put elderly music on. Why can't we listen to Talk Talk?"
"Um, actually I would be very content with Metallica, thank you!" Eddie exclaims from the back and everyone grunts in response, making him frown slightly. "What is wrong with metal?"
"It's not music, dingus," Robin answers like she was stating something obvious. "Besides, I don't get why you didn't put my mixtape on." 
"To listen to Ian Curtis moan for two hours and a half? I don't think so." Steve states from behind the wheel, staring at them from his rearview mirror. Robin and Eddie were pairing up on the last seat of the van, like the two naughty kids of the classroom, and were making it their mission to annoy the fuck out of everyone in that vehicle. Along with Mike, of course, who was sitting right behind you and your boyfriend, squished in between Eleven, Dustin, and Lucas. 
"Then you should've put Kate Bush like I asked you to." Max retorted, in an as-a-matter-of-fact manner. You could feel Steve's stare at her, a warning look that burned your upper body since she was sitting right beside you. 
"I think I've had enough of Wuthering Heights for now" he comments, nodding his head almost aggressively, sparing the girl another glance. "Maxine, will you, please, take your dirty shoes off of my dashboard?"
She rolls her eyes as he repeats the request for what seems to be the thirtieth time that day. Your body slowly sinks into the cushioned seat while Max smooths out the paper map she was holding, trying to remember the quickest way for you to get to the beach. 
"Are we there yet?" Will loudly asks from the middle seat that he was sharing with Erica, Jonathan, and Nancy. "Do you see any sand here? It's like we're going into a jungle!" the youngest girl exclaims while looking out of the window. And you really couldn't disagree with her, since all you saw from the time you entered the little coastal town were green trees and even greener lawn in the midst of small suburban-like houses. "I thought Max couldn't read maps." 
"I can! This one is just… different, " she replies quizzically. 
"Different!?" Everyone asked in unison, with the same confused tone. That made Max's blue eyes widen while she looked at you and Steve for help, only to find the both of you staring back at her with incredulity all over your faces. 
"I knew I should be the one reading it! I fucking told you!" Dustin screams in Steve's direction, with his hands going over his curly hair in exasperation. You could hear the 'we're in deep shit' and 'Jesus H. Christ' from all over the automobile, coming from everyone's mouths. Harrington could only 'tsk', placing his head on the hand he rested on the driver's window. 
"Tone, Henderson!" Eddie tells him from the back of the van. "But yeah, I really think he should trade places with Red."
"Fuck off, Eddie! I'm not leaving." Max pushed her back further into the passenger's seat, crossing her arms and pouting like an angry toddler. 
You took a deep breath before asking her softly, "And do you have any idea of where we are?" 
"Yeah, I think. Here." she pointed almost shyly at the map. You nodded and followed the blue line she traced across the roads before you started this (once) exciting adventure. 
"Alright. Enter the next right, Stevie."
"This right?"
"The next."
"My right or your right?" 
"It's the same, Steve." You could see the concentration on his face when you looked at him, slightly amused by the conversation you just had. Feeling your body tilting to the left as your boyfriend makes the accentuated curve, you hear Erica's faint complaint that Will's squishing her, but you were too distracted to listen to the rest of the exchange since your head couldn't stop worrying about the route Max selected. 
If she was right, it would only be a matter of minutes before you got to the miraculous beach, the one that you all have been dreaming about for months, talking about it nonstop until Steve finally rented the van. You could only pray that the redhead was correct about all of this, because, in all honesty, you don't think you can handle Mike's bitchness for much longer, or Dustin's insufferable grunts for that matter. 
So it was almost impossible not to sigh in relief as the sight of sand invaded the horizon, with only the thinnest line of blue right in the distance. You were not the only one who was happy to see it, in fact, the whole van erupted in cheers once Lucas announced: "Land ahoy!". Giggles mixed with screams and 'fucking finally's'. El's laugh was the one who stood out to you the most; that bubbly and loud chuckle of hers made a big smile grow on your lips. 
And it only got bigger once you noticed Steve's face glowing in all its glory under the summer's sun. Bright, great, and striking, as always. There wasn't a prettier sight than him smiling so big that you couldn't even see the brown of his eyes no more, only eyelashes and cute wrinkles. It was rather relieving to see him look so happy… that was a sight you didn't see often anymore since he is always so worried about his job and his academic life. A warm feeling spread quickly through your chest, making your heart beat faster just by the vision of him. You couldn't believe how lucky you were sometimes. 
"See? I told you I could read a map." Max triumphantly says as she rests her knees on the cushioned seat, turning her body around to look at the happy faces behind her. Mayfield had one of her rare big smiles plastered on her face, in a mix of satisfaction and pride, and her cheeks were slightly flushed; a great contrast with her countless freckles. The happiness that radiated from the girl was sensed by everyone in the van, especially Lucas, who stared at her like she was the most beautiful person he has ever seen in his life. And if you ask him, he'll tell you that is true; there was no one more charming than Maxine Mayfield. They shared a quick look, and if that was even possible, her smile only grew bigger. 
"Good job, Max!" Eleven praises her friend, in that sweet way of hers. Even from miles away, it was easy to see her eyes beaming, emitting her cheerfulness for the whole world to see. 
"Thank you, El! It's nice to know that someone acknowledges my talent". 
"Well, then I think we should all say thanks to Max, you guys." Nancy suddenly says, while looking around the whole van, like a teacher encouraging her students to participate in the day's activity. She had Jonathan's arm wrapped around her shoulders, and he was laughing silently by her side. "1, 2, 3…"
"Thank you, Max!" You all exclaimed, some more excited than others, but the intensity of the burst of laughter that contaminated you was the same. 
"You are all welcome." She sheepishly accepts the recognition and takes a quick bow before dropping back to her sit. Now, she stared at Steve, who was concentrating on parking the van the best he could. "Can we please have some ice cream when we get out?"
"Hell yeah." He immediately agrees and receives another van-shaking cheer from everyone. 
"I really want chocolate. Will, do you wanna share?" Dustin turns to face the boy sitting behind him, who excitedly agrees to the proposal. You hear Eddie asking Robin if she likes cotton candy flavored ice cream, to which she replies with a vomiting sound. Guess that was a no. 
"I really wanted strawberry." Max mindlessly comments by your side.
"Then I'll buy you the whole freaking stock," Steve responds as he turns off the vehicle. The redhead emits a surprised sound, thinking that no one would actually pay attention to that. 
"You'll buy us the whole stock? Fuck yeah!" Mike chimes in and then ushers everyone to get out before Steve changes his mind. 
While they were making their way out of the van, stretching and yawing lazily under the sun, you ask your boyfriend, "You're not really thinking about buying them the whole thing, right?"
"I'm not insane, you know? I think that if we put enough sprinkles that might distract them from that fact, so don't say anything."
"I won't, promise." You proclaim as you got off the van through the driver's door, landing right next to Steve. Stretching your arms, you ask him: "Do you think you can handle babysitting them for the rest of the day?"
"Fuck no. Can't even handle babysitting them back home." He shakes his head while his arm wraps around your shoulder, pulling you closer to him. "But there's nothing in the world that I would rather do than this."
He gives you a soft kiss right at your temple, muttering the last word into your skin. And when you look ahead, you understand exactly what he means. You watched as Eddie gave Dustin a piggyback ride to the sand, jumping every time his feet encountered the shore since it was burning hot; as Mike raced against Eleven and Will, rilling them up until he tripped over and almost fell; as Max failed to mediate another one of the Sinclair's squabbles, laughing more than actually trying to help; as Robin had a difficult time trying not to fall when she tripped on the sand, only to be helped by Nancy and Jonathan who held her arms until she was safely walking by the seashore. 
Yeah, you wouldn't trade this moment for anything in the world.
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edit: now there's kind of a part two to this. you can read it here! steve masterlist | main masterlist | navigation𖤐 hey! wanna talk? leave me a message after the beep ─ currently accepting requests for eddie munson and steve harrington.
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whoisshel · 9 months
Text
The Upside Down
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pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader
word count: 3481
tw: swearing
previous part
After sneaking into the sheriff’s office and taking back all the weapons they bought and taking a fire extinguisher along the way. Driving way over the speed limit, they made it to the Byers’ house, and started setting the house up to trap the monster. While Jonathan hammered nails into a bat and Nancy put bullets into a gun, you pulled out the knife you still had on you from the first hunt for the monster. Once everything was set up, the three stood in front of each other, each holding a knife over your hands going over the plan.
“Remember…”
“Straight into Will’s room. And-”
“Don’t step on the trap.”
“Wait for the yo-yo to move.”
“Then-” Jonathan took the lighter out of his pocket, flicking it to demonstrate what he would do. “All right. You ready?”
The girls gave a curt nod, nervous for what’s about to happen. You simultaneously answered, “Ready.”
“On three.” Jonathan said, as you held the knives even closer to your hands. Your hand was shaking, you didn’t want to admit it but you were frightened. While the adrenaline was helping right now, you knew that you would be scarred for life after this. “One… two… you guys don’t have to do this-”
“Jonathan, stop talking.” Nancy interrupted Jonathan, not wanting to delay this any longer knowing the fear would take over if they did.
“I’m just say, you don’t have to-”
“Three.” You each quickly cut your hands, faces scrunching up in pain. You let out a quiet whimper from how much it actually hurt.
Maybe I’m not strong enough for this, but I sure as fuck am not letting that get in the way of helping the people I love.
—----------------
You sat on the chair in the living room inspecting your bandages, as Nancy helped Jonathan wrap his hand on the couch next to you. After a few moments of silence, a creaking sound was heard from off in the distance.
“Did you hear that?” Nancy asked, as you all looked from where you heard the noise.
After a few minutes of looking and waiting for something to happen, Jonathan tried to ease the two, “It’s just the wind.” You calmed down a little at the reassurance, you leaned back in the chair to try and get comfortable again and slow your heart. “Don’t worry, my mom, she said the lights speak when it comes.”
“Speak?” Nancy asked, confused by what he meant.
You chime in just as confused about lights speaking, “Yeah, out of all the crazy things that’s happened, lights speaking tops that.”
“Blink.” Jonathan corrected himself, “Think of them as alarms.”
You looked around at all the lights, continuously checking to make sure none of them were blinking. You were on high alert now, not wanting the monster to sneak up on you. As you were looking around, and Nancy was still fixing Jonathan's hand, a loud knocking came from the front door. The three of you jumped, turning to face the door. You could see it was a person’s hand, but none of you knew who would come here right now.
“Jonathan?” Steve’s voice called from the other side of the door, “Are you there, man? It’s-it’s Steve!” You each turned to look at each other confused as to why Steve was here. “Listen, I just want to talk!”
They decided it would be best if you answered the door since Jonathan didn’t want to see him, and Nancy didn’t want Steve to know she was here with Jonathan. You walked over to the door and opened it up just  a smidge, so Steve couldn’t see into the house that looked crazy from their trap.
“Steve, listen to me.” You tried to speak quickly, to cut him off and get him to leave before it was too late.
“Hey. Y/N, what-”
“-You need to leave.”
“I’m not trying to start anything, okay?” Steve tried to explain his reasoning for being there, but you didn’t care to listen.
“I don’t care about that. You need to leave.”
Steve wouldn’t give up though, he was on a mission to better himself and he wasn’t going to let anyone get in the way of that. “No, no, no, listen, I messed up, okay? I messed… I messed up. Okay? Really, please. I just want to make things right. Okay? Please, please.” 
Steve cut off his stammering when he finally saw your hand wrapped up in bandages and blood seeping through. “Hey, what happened to your hand? Is that blood?”
Steve grabbed a hold of your injured hand to get a better look. You quickly ripped it from his grip and put it behind your back to hide it, trying to come up with an excuse. “Nothing, it was an accident.”
“Yeah, what’s going on?”
“Nothing.”
Pushing on the door, Steve tried to shove his way into the house. “Wait a sec. Did she do this to you? Did your mom?”
“No, no, no!” Steve finally got past the door as you continued to protest, yelling “No!” at him even as he already made it through.
“Nancy?” Steve questioned why she was here too, but got distracted once he took in the whole house. “What is… what the…”
“You need to get out of here.” Jonathan ran up to him, pushing him back a little trying to get him back out the door. “Listen to me, I’m not asking you-”
“Whoa, what is all-”
“-I’m telling you, get out of here!”
“-What is that smell? Is that gasoline?”
Trying to cut off the yelling from the boys, Nancy pulled out the gun pointing it at Steve. “Steve, get out!”
“Wait! What!” Jonathan backed up not wanting to be in the middle, while Steve started freaking out even more. “What is going on?”
“You have five seconds to get out of here.”
From Steve’s other side, you tried to calmly get him to leave with your arms up and voice lower than everyone else's, “Listen, Steve, it’s best if you just leave.”
“Okay, is this a joke?” Steve looked back and forth from Nancy and you, before finally focusing back on Nancy who still had the gun pointed at him. “Stop, put the gun down.”
“I’m doing this for you.” Nancy said to Steve, full of sincerity. Everyone knew that it was best to not involve anymore people and put them in danger; especially, when they were about to fight the thing and Steve had no clue what was going on.
While more panic ensued from Steve and Nancy started counting down, the lights began flickering. Only Jonathan and you had noticed, looking around at all the lights, trying to get Nancy’s attention.
“Nancy! The lights.” Jonathan was finally able to get Nancy’s attention. She put the gun down and looked at all the lights flickering.
“It’s here.” You said, pulling out your knife, while Jonathan grabbed the bat.
“Where is it?” Nancy asked, frantically.
Steve was still standing in one spot, completely clueless on what was happening. “Where is what?”
You, Jonathan, and Nancy all went back to back walking in a circle trying to see if any of you could spot the monster. Steve was still yelling at them trying to get answers as the lights continued to flicker faster. You all stopped when the ceiling started cracking and moving like it was liquid while something tried to get through it. Nancy started shooting at it, but as the thing started getting through the hole more Jonathan grabbed her waist pulling her back away. As the monster fell out of the hole, Jonathan and Nancy started running to Will’s room. Steve stood frozen not knowing what to do, you ran past him grabbing his hand to pull him along to Will’s room with them.
Once you were in Will’s room and Nancy slammed the door shut, Steve started freaking out even more. “Jesus! Jesus, what the hell was that?”
“Shut up!” The three turned to yell at Steve, before turning back to the door holding up your weapons in preparation to attack. 
You all waited confused on why it wasn’t trying to barge through the door and instead was just waiting on the other side making noises. “What’s it doing?”
“I don’t know.” Jonathan answered, as the lights continued to flicker causing it to go completely dark; except, for Jonathan’s lighter. 
Then suddenly, it seemed like everything stopped. The lights stopped flickering and it wasn’t making any noises. You, confused and scared, asked, “Do you hear anything?”
Nancy shook her head no, while Jonathan flicked his lighter off verbally answering, “No.”
Jonathan opened the bedroom door and was the first to walk out, still holding the bat up. Nancy soon followed after with you and Steve behind you, both Nancy and you holding your weapons up too. The four of you stood at the end of the hall, not seeing the monster or any of the traps set off.
Slowly walking into the living room, still in a line, you looked around for the monster, but not seeing a trace of it. 
“This is crazy, This is crazy!” Steve started repeatedly yelling to himself. He ran over to the phone and started dialing for 911, but before he could finish, Nancy grabbed the phone out of his hands and threw it across the room causing it to smash into pieces. “What are you doing, are you insane?”
“It’s going to come back! So you need to leave. Right now.”
Steve looked at each of them, then quickly ran out of the house as fast as he could. As soon as Steve had left, the lights started flickering again. The three of you went back to back again, looking around the room trying to find it.
“Come on!” Jonathan yelled, then the lights went completely out.
Nancy turned around facing the other direction than the other two, letting out a shriek, “Jonathan!”
Jonathan and you looked where Nancy was and saw the monster standing directly behind Jonathan. It threw its arms up, throwing you across the room and into a wall causing you to hit your head and fall to the ground. It then jumped onto Jonathan, making him let go of the bat. As it laid on top of Jonathan, it started to open its mouth looking like it was about to eat Jonathan. 
Nancy started shooting at it, yelling, “Go to hell, you son of a bitch!”
After a few shots, it started standing up facing where Nancy stood and walked towards her slowly while she still shot at it. You looked up towards Nancy, you rubbed your head where you just hit it and tried to stand up. When you finally stood up, you saw Steve run in front of Nancy with Jonathan’s bat and hit the creature.
“Steve!” Nancy yelled out in shock that he came back, but also a bit grateful. The monster tried to swing at Steve, but he jumped back in time taking another swing and hitting it in the stomach again. 
The monster took another swing at Steve, this time getting him in the head causing Steve to stagger back a little. It was about to take another swing, when you ran over stabbing it on its shoulder and dragging the knife down its back. Letting out a scream, the monster turned back to face you. With the knife still in your hand, you brought it up with both hands, bringing it down towards the monster’s chest. Before you could stab it, the creature swung at you causing you to hit your side into the wall to the left of you. Once you were down, Steve ran towards it and hit it again and again, backing it into the wall where it stepped on the bear trap.
“He’s in the trap!” Jonathan yelled, quickly getting up from the ground. “He’s stuck!”
“Jonathan, now!” Nancy shouted at him, from where her and Steve stood at the end of the hall watching it. You watched from your spot on the ground, not yet able to get up, as Jonathan ran over, flicked his lighter and threw it on the ground. The hallway went up in flames along with the monster. Before it could get too out of control, Jonathan ran and grabbed the fire extinguisher, putting out the fire. 
The other three covered your faces, coughing from all the smoke, Steve walked over to you helping you off the ground, giving him a small ‘thank you’. The side of your face was covered in blood from where it hit against the wall, the second time, and your already messed up ankle was injured even more. As the smoke cleared, the four of you slowly walked (or in your case, limped) over to the empty bear trap.
“Where did it go?” Nancy asked.
“No, it has to be dead.” Jonathan panted out, exhausted from all the fighting, and from smoke filling the air. “It has to be.”
All that seemed to be left was what looked like skin, sizzling on the bear trap. You all stood there staring at it for a few seconds, when the lights above you started turning on one by one getting closer to you. As they turned on, the group walked backwards backing yourselves into the end of the hall. The lights then started making their way to the living room, so you followed, confused as to why they weren’t flickering this time.
“Mom?” Jonathan whispered, realizing what was happening. “Is that you?”
Not hearing anything in return, you followed the lights which led them to walk out of the house, the four teenagers stood on the porch seeing the street lights flicker.
“Where’s it going?” Nancy asked.
“I don’t think that’s the monster.” Jonathan replied, the other three turned your heads looking at him confused at what he meant by that.
After a few moments of staring out into the distance, Steve turned to fully face the group, dropping the bat down, “Can someone explain to me what the hell just happened.”
“I need to sit down.” You sighed to yourself, holding the side of your head that was throbbing, you clumsily sat down at the edge of the porch. Jonathan quickly walked over to where you sat, taking your hand away from where you held your head to check the wound himself.
Inspecting the wound, he noticed that it was still bleeding and seemed like it wasn’t stopping, “Hey guys, I think we should get her to the hospital.”
Nancy came over to your other side, turning it to look at for herself, while Steve stood behind them cursing under his breath. “Steve, go get the bandages. They should be around the couch.” Steve ran off into the house. Nancy looked over at Jonathan giving him a worried look, confirming what he said before. “We’ve got to get her to the hospital.”
“No.” You mumbled weakly, your head was spinning now and you could barely keep your eyes open. “No, I want Eddie.”
—----------------
A few hours later, you wake up to the sound of beeping. You try to open your eyes, but are only able to continuously blink due to the bright lights and the slight pain coming from your head; it’s not as bad as before but it’s still there.
You slowly start to bring your hand to where your head is hurting, when it’s stopped by a hand softly grabbing yours and bringing it back down to rest on the bed, still holding your hand. “No, sweetie, don’t touch it.”
“Mom?” You look to the right and open your eyes just a little bit to see if your mom was actually there.
“I’m here, I’m here.” Pam reassured her daughter, leaning in closer to you and now holding your hand in both of hers. “You’re in the hospital, after your accident.”
“What accident?” You were confused on what your mom meant and how much she’s been told.
“You got into a car accident with Jonathan, Steve, and Nancy. They said you were sitting behind the driver's side, and that your side got hit the worst. You have a mild concussion and they had to stitch your hand and your ankle. I don’t know how your ankle got hurt, but I’m glad this is the worst of it.”
Relaxing your confused face, you realized someone must have come up with this lie to tell everyone so they wouldn’t know what actually happened. “Oh, oh yeah, I remember now.”
“You have some people that would like to see you. Do you need some time or do you want me to bring them in?”
“They can come in.” You told your mom, who started to stand up to get your friends. Before she could get far, you held on tightly to your mom’s hand causing Pam to turn back to her daughter. “Thank you for being here mom.”
Going back to stand next to you, Pam put a hand on the uninjured side of your face and gave you a sweet smile. “Of course, honey.”
Pam then walked out to go grab everyone, giving you time to reflect on what really happened. Every time you blinked now, you could see the monster with its face wide open like it was going to bite you. The fear was finally able to really settle in, and you were truly scared shitless. You hoped it was gone now, gone forever. You also hoped they were able to save Will.
Your thoughts were broken when Eddie came rushing into the hospital room and over to the bed, pulling you into a gentle hug like any amount of pressure would break you. Giving you a kiss on the forehead, Eddie then pulled away to look over your whole face. “I’m so glad you’re okay, baby, you’re never leavin’ my side again.”
“Promise?” You looked up at your boyfriend with a slight smirk. You were so glad to see Eddie again after everything that happened, and you really did never want to leave his side.
“Promise.” Giving you the same goofy smirk back. Eddie was relieved that you were okay, and happy that your humor was still intact.
“How’d you know I was here, by the way?” 
Eddie answered, throwing a thumb over his shoulder pointing towards the door to the room, “Oh, your mom called me.”
In slight shock, you looked over at your mom who stood in the doorway who watched with her arms crossed and probably the first genuine smile you’ve ever seen your mom have. You thought your mom hated Eddie, but maybe all it took was a traumatic event to finally break your mom’s cold exterior. Smiling at your mom, you looked back over at Eddie who continued to look at you with relief and a bit like a lovesick puppy. 
Robin decided she had enough of this sappy moment and shoved Eddie out of the way so hard he had to catch himself on the end of the hospital bed. “Move Munson, I want to see my best friend.”
Everyone, but Eddie and Robin chuckled at Robin's eagerness, as Robin pulled you into a less gentle hug. “You’re never leaving my side, Y/N.”
“Promise?” You repeat what you said to Eddie, looking at him over Robin’s shoulder with a big smile while he just looked offended.
“What the hell, Buckley, stop trying to steal my girl.” Eddie pulled Robin off of you so that she could face him. 
“Can’t steal what I had first.”
As the two continued their antics, Nancy moved over to you sitting in the chair Pam sat previously. She grabbed your hand, sitting close to you so no one else could hear what she was saying. “Did they find Will?”
“Yeah, he's in the room down the hall.” Nancy reassured you with a nod. “His mom and Jonathan are with him. He hasn't woken up yet, but we’ll let you know as soon as he does.”
You let out a sigh of relief, “Okay, thank you.” Looking down at your lap then back at Nancy, talking in an even lower voice, “And that thing?”
“Gone, Eleven got it, bu- but she went with it.”
“Oh.” You looked down at your lap as your eyes started tearing up. “Well, I’m glad it’s gone.”
Noticing her daughter tearing up, she thought that you might need some more rest, “Alright, I think she’s had enough for today, you guys can come back tomorrow.”
Nancy gave you a hug goodbye, while both Eddie and Robin kissed her forehead causing another fight to break out between them while they all walked out of the room. Pam walked back over to her daughter’s bedside, sitting down on the bed pulling you into a hug. You rested your head on your mom’s shoulder and started sobbing.
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cacoetheswriting · 11 months
Note
I am loving Pearl so far, beautifully written, but WAIT because I have to know what the letters said 😭😭😭
thank you, anon! <3 i appreciate your sweet words 🥹 and thank you for asking, it inspired me to actually fill in this gap - hope you enjoy!
content warnings: best friends to lovers, slow burn, mutual pining, mature themes, adult language, death of a parent, topics of grief, emotional hurt / comfort, self-doubt / insecurities - unedited - if i missed anything, pls let me know!
pearl masterlist
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November 19, 1984
Eddie,
Sitting back in my dorm feels almost surreal. Everyone around me is going about their lives as normal, and I know I can’t be mad because obviously to them nothing’s changed, but how am I expected to join in normality? To just pick up where I left off at the start of the month?
You know what my chem professor told me? ‘We’ve all lost someone. The trick is to not make it your whole personality.’ In a way that makes sense to me. It’s logical. I can’t let my dad’s passing define me. And he obviously would want me to move on with my life. But Eddie, my heart bleeds. 
This grief… This grief is swallowing me whole. This grief has embedded itself into my core being and on most days, it’s fucking consuming me. I lost a parent, a protector, a friend. There are memories I’ll never get to make because he’s gone. I really lost a piece of myself. How come no one seems to get that?
You get that, right Eddie? I know you understand. You always understand.
I miss you. I miss my dad.
P.S. Excuse this tear stained paper. It’s a mess. I’m a mess.
P.P.S I’m sorry for running off on you the day of the funeral. It was just… a lot.
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November 22, 1984
Eddie,
Nothing makes sense anymore. (Also, I know I just wrote you, but I haven’t sent that letter yet so you’ll get both together and can respond to them as one.)
I’m trying to catch up on the material I missed and the words blend together before my eyes. Well, I only have myself to blame. My mom offered for me to take the rest of the semester off and start fresh from the new year, but I thought the distraction would help. I couldn’t have been more wrong.
I’m so sad all the time. And you know what the worst part is? Aside from the nightmares and this restlessness I’ve felt since the funeral, I just can’t stop thinking about you. What is Eddie doing, who is he with, does he think about me too?
Well, do you? God, this is fucking stupid. I know you do ‘cause you fucking call me everyday and I can’t bring myself to answer or call you back… Stupid…
I also think about our last moment together often… Actually, please ignore this letter, Eddie. Don’t respond. Like I said, nothing makes sense anymore, including my thoughts.
I miss you.
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November 27, 1984
Eddie,
I’m sorry I’ve been ignoring your calls. I’m sorry I’ve had my roommate make up stupid excuses for me, that’s so lame. Most of all though, I’m sorry I haven’t called you back. 
You’re trying to be there for me and I’m pushing you away. That’s shitty of me and really unforgivable. But the thing is, I think I’m doing it because I know you’ll always forgive me. That’s even shittier of me. I’m awful.
You deserve a better friend, Eddie Munson. You deserve the world and I only wish I could give you that. Instead, you’re stuck with a girl who runs away from uncomfortable situations and hurts you in the process.
I wish I could go back to the day of the funeral and change
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November 30, 1984
I spent the entire day listening to my mom cry over the phone — tell me, does it make me heartless for not shedding a single tear? Thinking now, this is the first time I haven’t cried since the funeral.
Anyway, I’m failing the semester. Surprise, surprise.
Also, Jonathan and Nancy came to visit. Why didn’t you come with them? God, why am I such a loser? Won’t speak with you over the phone, but gets mad when you don’t take time from school to come see me. I’m sick of myself.
P.S. Thank you for regularly doing the groceries for my mom and helping her around the house. You have no idea how much that means to her, and to me. I love— Thank you, Eddie.
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December 4, 1984
It’s been a month since my dad died.
The grief hasn’t surpassed. If anything, it’s gotten stronger. My roommate has to force me to do basic human things like eat and sometimes even shower. She’s really been my rock here these last few weeks. You’d like her, I think. She couldn’t be more different than you in style, but she’s funny. 
I know you probably don’t have a high opinion of her now, considering she’s helping me avoid you, but—
I should really call you back. I’m sorry.
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December 10, 1984
I haven’t sent a single one of these letters. You’ll probably never read them and know how truly awful I feel for ignoring you.
Eddie, how come things have gotten so complicated? You’ve done nothing wrong. It’s all on me. I wish we could go back to that day at Lover's Lake when you played your guitar for me. That was bliss.
I miss you, my Bobby McGee.
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December 14, 1984
Eddie, you didn’t call today.
I shouldn’t be surprised. Not like I’ve given you a reason to call.
I wonder if you’ll even want to see me when I come home for the holidays. Probably not. That’s okay though. That’s okay…
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December 19, 1984
Eddie,
Perhaps I’m saying this a little too late, but I appreciate you. Thank you for being my best friend and the entire reason why I know I’m going to be okay.
I think I’m in love with you. No. I know I am.
And I’m going to give you all these letters. Hopefully, you’ll read them in front of me so I can see your reaction when I say:
I love you, Eddie Munson. 
I’m coming home for the holidays. I’ll come see you and I’ll apologise. With any luck, you’ll forgive me for being a cold-hearted bitch. With any luck, although I probably don’t deserve it, you’ll be my person again.
I'm yours, forever.
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thank you for reading <3
& tagging some cool people that expressed interest in this lil series: @cactusangie , @spenciesprincess , @capitanostella , @ashlynnkennedy , @ms1oftheboys
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Will the Wise
pairing: Steve Harrington x Female Byers!Reader
genre: follows show plot lines, but will diverge from canon, obviously
WC: 6.2K
warnings: cursing, billy being billy, the very last part of this is a bit graphic mentions of blood, throwing up, deformed bodies (its not for the faint of heart basically)
summary: well aren’t you getting a bit cozy with Harrington. also will is going through some shit. also where the hell did Jonathan fuck off to?
A/N: ALL PARTS UNDER THE TAG -The Byers Harrington Story-
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many thank yous to @alecmores​, my proof reader. they are the reason i don’t sound like an idiot. also they said this was their favorite👀
THANK YOU FOR 200 FOLLOWERS!💗
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The ringing felt like it lasted forever, when in actuality, it was only two rings before someone picked up.
“Hello?”
“Hey, sorry to bother-” “You need a ride home?” “Yeah. No one is answering the home phone and Bob doesn’t leave until later. I just wanted to see if the offer was still-” “Oh, actually I have last-minute plans. Sorry,” Steve hissed in apology.
Disappointment seeped in, “oh, okay. I’ll try-”
His abrupt laughter on the other end stopped your sentence short, “I’m kidding, Byers. I’ll be there in ten minutes,” and then he hung up.
“Uh, Steve Harrington is asking for you up front,” Randy, a senior who works with you, mentioned when he walked into the break room.
Gathering up your things, you state “Thanks, Randy. See you tomorrow?” he nodded his head at you and you left the small room.
With your coat, school bag, and books in hand, you headed up front to see Bob seated behind the counter, and just as you turned the corner, Steve’s back was the first thing you saw. The fabric of his jacket pulled against his wide shoulders and shifted at the muscle on his biceps. The ends of his hair caressing his neck, a couple of pieces tucked behind his ear as they curled upward, just an inch from tickling the skin.
Letting out a jagged breath, you continued your walk forward and stood beside Bob at the counter, “so, I’ll see you later, Bob?”
You saw Steve turn around at the sound of your voice, but you didn’t want to notice him just yet. You needed a moment to compose yourself.
“We’ll see, Joyce hasn’t been answering the phone.”
“Yep, that’s why I had to call in my chauffeur. Isn’t that right, Harrington?” pushing the joking tone hard onto the words.
Steve turned his charming smile onto both you and Bob, just the simple pull of his lips threw your heart off rhythm, “At your service, Byers.”
‘He has no idea, does he?’ the intense effect he inflicts on you, something he does with just breathing, or even looking in your direction.
“Uh, well, hope to see you tonight, Bob,” you gave a wave as your final goodbye.
Steve walked out the door first but waited until you left to release his hold on it. He then rushed to the passenger side of his car and threw the door open for you, “Miss Byers,” he continued to play up the chauffeur role.
You grinned, “Thank you, Mr. Harrington,” and you slid into the leather seat.
You took those two seconds to just admire him as he jogged in front of the car to his side but snapped back to reality with a shake of your brain. ‘He and Nancy are still together, I think’ ‘They just fought, all couples have fights’ ‘That doesn’t mean they just broke up, or did they?’ ‘Nancy couldn’t say-’
“Got any plans for the upcoming weekend?” Steve making light conversation stopped the train of thoughts. 
“Uh, not at the moment. Might just catch up on reading, or clean my room. We’ll see where the day takes me,” it took a minute to walk away from the noisy thoughts.
Looking from outside the front windshield staring down the highway, to sneaking a glance at Steve as he distracted himself with the empty road, his hands fiddling with the steering wheel. His beauty was too distracting for your brain, you whipped your head to the forest speeding past the maroon car, the blurriness and stillness allowing for your mind to wander. You kept your head tilted towards the window, your arm going to rest near the glass with your fist smushing into your cheek.
With your mind slowly leaving reality, you almost missed the next sentence that Steve spoke into the quiet car, “Would you be down to hang out with me?”
You thought your heart stopped beating for five seconds, your eyes widening at the forest. You didn’t say anything back right away, you didn’t even know what you could say. Steve was taking the initiative with this friendship and asking you himself if you wanted to spend time over the weekend, you thought this was a dream for a moment.
“If you’re free, of course. I don’t want to disrupt your reading or fall cleaning,” the grin evident in his voice.
Your brain started to catch up, “and what- what would we do, if we hung out,” the flirtiness seeping into your words, unintentionally you might add.
The boyish grin made another appearance, “whatever we feel like doing. What if I just want to be out of the house and bother you this weekend? How does that sound?”
‘Dangerous territory’ is a reminder for yourself.
“Well, if you do want to come over, you’ll just watch me clean. My room’s a mess, and if I don’t clean it up now, it’s going to get worse and affect my mood,” trying to keep this from sounding anything other than friends hanging out.
A grin appeared at your reply, “let's say I do come over to your house and keep you company while you clean, how would- how would Jonathan feel?” he was hesitant at the end.
“Uh-”, yeah, the two of them are still estranged, “I can see what he’s up to this weekend. If you do want to hang out and be bored for however long you stay.”
“Of course, I want to hang out with my friend, we’ve barely hung out since summer, and that was work,” a breathy laugh followed.
Friend
The word stung as usual, but it was the unabashed truth of your relationship, “yeah, feel like that’s a bit on me,” a sullen reply.
“Why?”
“Uh, work, school, family stuff. Also still getting used to being friends with-” “Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington?” Steve replied in a bored voice.
You nodded your head. Those were all truths used to cover the only other truth you couldn’t say aloud. That you had feelings for Steve, duh.
The slow drive up to your house brought the conversation to its end. The two of you sat in his car for a few moments, the engine still running to keep the chill at bay. Not knowing if the whole conversation was at its end, you slowly reached for your bag and books. You tried to savor these next few seconds before you left the car.
“Hey,” his voice called out, “is it okay if I call Saturday morning? I do want to hang out with you, plus I don’t have many friends these days and I don’t want to be home,” he revealed the last part quietly.
A beat passed for a moment. You forgot about your bag and books, instead turning slightly in the seat to face Steve, your left knee resting near the gear shift, “do you miss…being King Steve?” a quiet question, “you were the most popular dude in school, girls practically drooled when you walked down the halls, and all the guys wanted to be associated with you. And it seems you mostly hang out with Nancy or sometimes you’ll talk with me, don’t you miss Tommy and Carol? Don’t you miss your normal?”
His head leaned on his shoulder to look at you and then he copied your posture, his body turned with his right knee sitting near the shift.
“Sometimes yeah. I miss the attention at moments, but I was lonely. Sure, I was friends with Tommy and Carol, but they were assholes and self-absorbed. Plus that Billy dude is Tommy’s new friend basically, I’m easily replaceable,” he scoffed.
‘Not to me’, you wanted to voice.
He continued, “but slowly I just was getting tired of being ‘The King.’ I didn’t even really care about the title, I was just happy to be noticed by people. But I’m glad I was there that night.”
A furrowed brow at the statement, “The night we had to fight an inter-dimensional monster? Why? You could still be living your normal life if you stayed away?”
“Yeah, but my normal life was miserable, even if I didn’t voluntarily choose to notice it. And, as it might sound, it helped me notice you and Jonathan in a different light. I based my thoughts on what my parents have told me about your family. But you guys, you’re a close family. Always there for each other, I wish I had even a sliver of that. And I get to be your friend, so I think everything worked pretty well.”
He smiled at you, the boyish grin mixed with a light warmth, it almost made you feel like the sun was shining directly upon you. The corners of your lips followed in his action, a tiny grin appearing along your chapped lips, “Yeah, I’m- I’m glad we became friends too.”
Another quiet bubble between the two of you.
“Well…” you broke the space first, “I should head inside. Uh, you can call around ten Saturday morning, is that okay?”
With a grin, he nodded his answer, “See you tomorrow, Byers.”
“See ya, Harrington.”
And something in the way the two of you used the other's last name made your heart speed up. It felt different this time, like a potential future something.
‘Dangerous territory’
By the time you woke up from school the following day, Jonathan had already left the house. If he was in such a rush, why didn’t he bother waking you up? Very rude of him, also, what was he in such a rush for in the first place? After your little moment of annoyance towards Jonathan for leaving you in the dust, you got cleaned up and dressed for the day. Walking to the kitchen to see Joyce on the phone, “Did he get any of my messages from yesterday? Did you give-” she was pacing the small space while the other person, probably Flo on the other side talked, “No, no, I need Hopper. Just tell him to call me the second he gets in. Please. Thank you,” and she hung up.
“Mom,” She turned around to look at you, “you okay?” “Yeah, I’m fine, honey. Hopper’s just not returning my calls,” she faked a smile.
“Okay… well, could you take me to school? Jonathan hurried out for some reason.”
Just before she replied you heard feet padding down the hallway, “Hey. How you feeling, sleepyhead?” Her attention was stolen by Will, “any better?”
“Mmm-mmm,” he murmured as he sat in a chair.
“Same as last night? Still weird?”
“What happened last night?” you were out of the loop.
Joyce was focused on checking Will’s temperature with her hand before replying, “oh, he had an episode yesterday at school,” she got up to look for the thermometer.
Looking at Will he shrunk into himself a bit. You crouched down and placed your hands on his knees for support, “you had an episode? Was it- was it the Upside Down again?” you whispered the last part.
He shook his head no, and your brows furrowed, confusion evident on your face. Before you could ask him another question Joyce came back to check his temperature, “Honey, why don’t you see if a friend could take you?”
“Or I could stay home and watch over Will with you.” “No, you’re going to school,” a firm reply.
Sighing out, you turned to the landline. You tried Robin’s place, but no answer. Eddie’s, no answer, and those were your only two friends. “Why don’t you try Steve,” Will sang his name with a teasing tone. With a roll of your eyes, you turned back to the phone, but with a shakiness to your hand. Breathing out, you dialed the Harrington number just like yesterday and waited for a voice.
After four rings you were about to end the call when it suddenly was picked up, “Harrington residence,” and it wasn’t Steve's voice.
“Uh, hi Mr. Harrington. I was wondering if Steve was there?”
He sighed, “yes, he’s home. May I ask who’s calling at seven-thirty in the morning?”
“(Y/n) Byers, I’m a friend of Steve’s.”
His voice was pulled from the phone, but you could faintly hear him calling for Steve and your name being said.
“Well, this is a pleasant surprise. Need another ride?”
You cringed to yourself, “actually yeah.”
“Taking the chauffeuring seriously I see.”
“Sorry. Jonathan left super early and my mom has to stay home with Will, and Rob-”
“(Y/n), it’s okay. Be there in ten to fifteen minutes, okay?” “Yeah, meet you outside.”
You hung up with a smile then turned back to Joyce and Will. Joyce was looking intently at the thermometer that showed Will’s temperature, “is it a fever?” you asked.
“No. Uh, actually, it’s a cold,” she said perplexed, “do you feel cold?” she asked Will.
“No,” he answered, “just a little out of it. Like I haven’t really woken up yet.”
You and Joyce both shared a look of concern at what Will just told the both of you, “you promised no doctor,” he told Joyce.
“And I meant it. No doctor. You know what? I’m gonna run you a nice bath and it’ll warm you up and hopefully get you feeling better. How’s that sound? Okay,” and she left to start the bath.
“Will,” you took Joyce’s seat, “if you start to feel weird, like extra weird, tell mom and just have her take you to the doctor.”
“But-” “I know, but this is something we might not be able to fix with just a warm bath and medicine. Just please- just-”
“Okay,” his small voice answered. You took that moment to gaze at his face, taking in his features. From his dark circles to the moisture gathering under his hair. You wanted him to get the help he needs for this, but you knew not to push it further now. 
With a kiss on his forehead goodbye, you gathered your things and headed outside to wait for Steve.
“Should I start expecting more calls from you in the coming days?”
His teasing voice greeted you when you slid into your seat.
He was wearing the usual outfit, his denim Levi's that hugged his thighs, a collared polo that pulled against his chest, and his light blue jacket. His hair was done also, as usual, loose strands near the front almost kissing his forehead, your fingers twitched, but you clenched them shut into a fist.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know what caused Jonathan to rush off,” you let out in an exasperated reply. 
“Hey, I don’t mind,” he turned to smile at you.
“But you have your own things-”
“I said it’s fine, (Y/n). It allows us to hang out together,” he shushed your concerns, “did you ask Jonathan about his weekend plans? Or ask if it’s cool for me to come over?”
“No, I was fast asleep by the time he got home. He’s been acting weird lately and I haven’t had the time to talk with him about it. I’m a bit worried,” you fidgeted with your nails.
While staring down at your nails, picking at the skin in a mindless action, Steve’s hand settled over yours. His larger, warmer palm settled over your smaller fist stopping your actions from continuing. You bore your eyes into his hand, your breathing at the same pace, but your heart jackhammering inside.
“Jonathan is fine. He’s always-” Steve stopped his sentence short when he realized the direction it was headed.
He took his hand away after that, you missed the warmth he brought, “you’re probably right. Jonathan’s always up to something,” trying to save Steve from his mistake.
Silence followed after. Neither of you knew what new topic of discussion would be best, you had one on your mind, you being an idiot went for the topic that was top two for ‘not the best’, “Parents are back I hear,” you tried a joking tone. It didn’t land.
“Yep,” he popped the ‘p’, “came back a few minutes after I got home from dropping you off.”
“Happy to see them?” You don’t know why you’re continuing this topic.
“Ecstatic,” he lied, sarcasm dripping over the word like honey.
With your bottom lip pulled between your teeth, you made a swift glance at Steve. His jaw was tense, his head leaned towards the window with a hand rubbing his chin. You slumped into the seat, wishing to make yourself small at this moment. You fully know not to bring this topic up when you can, because you know it’s something Steve likes to avoid and when you avoid something it means ‘don’t ask’. You would have asked about Nancy, but that was one you wanted to avoid.
“Need a ride to work after school?” Thankfully, Steve changed it.
You huff a sigh, “if I can’t find Jonathan, then probably. You wouldn’t mind?”
“Not at all, if it keeps me from going straight home, I’m completely fine with it,” he assured.
You allowed for the silence and the radio to fill the car for a few minutes. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable this time, at least not severely. The air felt tense, it suggested that both of you wanted to say something, but the other was too afraid to speak or say the wrong thing. You were afraid your big mouth would slip something out. 
When the idea of just asking Steve if he liked Star Wars or whatever popped up, he opened his mouth first, “How’s Will doing?”
You stuttered, “Uh, he’s uh,” you weren’t sure if Will was okay with you talking about his current state. So you just settled on, “he has bad days.” You thought back to this morning and Monday night when he slept in your room.
“Does the doctor know anything?” Steve was trying to understand what you meant.
“Uh, he has…episodes. Of being in the Upside Down.”
Out of your periphery, you could see Steve opening and closing his mouth like a fish, trying to find the right response to that, “uh, well…”
“Steve, can we change topics?” “Oh! Yeah, one hundred percent!” he chuckled nervously. Now the silence tensed completely. You worried that if you even moved an inch it would make it worse. Luckily your saving grace was seeing the school coming into view, quiet sighs of relief leaving the both of you. In a hurry to grab your bag and books, your hands collide with Steve’s as he makes a reach for them beside your legs, your hand pulling back like he was a hot poker.
“What are you doing?” “Grabbing your books, duh.”
As you were going to protest, he grabbed them and left his seat, leaving you flabbergasted for a moment. In those few seconds Steve made his way to your side and threw open the door startling you, “(Y/n), come on.”
Steve didn’t hand the books to you when entering the school and he didn’t depart from you right away, he carried the textbooks and walked with you to your locker. ‘He’s probably looking for Nancy, that’s all’ a swift kick to yourself.
“If you still need that ride to work, just meet me at my car. All right?” He stated.
With a nod of your head, he released the books into your care and left down the hall. You watched for a few seconds as he left and you could see the slightly hunched look on his shoulders. With a look to your left, you noted that Nancy wasn’t anywhere in sight. A loud thudding against the lockers stole your attention, “Hey pretty lady,” a sleazy voice drawled.
Cigarette smell overloaded your senses, it was like being hit with the air of a casino. And the shiver that brought goosebumps along your arms made you feel uneasy like you could be walking right into a bear trap. With a slow turning of your body, you were assaulted by the sight of the new boy, Billy, the one Steve mentioned yesterday. His blonde mullet was in curled ringlets that framed his face, a rat stache forming on his upper lip. His piercing blue eyes dragged themselves over your face and then your body, and not discreetly. He made it feel as if you were under a microscope, he was the observer and you were the subject, it made you want to squirm.
“You’re (Y/n), right? (Y/n) Byers?” He was asking for your name as if he didn’t already ask around the school.
“Yeah, that’s me, unless there’s maliciously another (Y/n) Byers in little old Hawkins,” you tried throwing a joke mixed with the annoyance of his presence.
A Cheshire grin appeared on his lips, his tongue poking at one of the corners, “Not that I know of.” Another pass of his eyes raked your body, “So, how would you like to go on a date with me?”
He leaned in closer, his lips a breath away from touching your ear, “I can show you a much better time than Harrington.”
You jerked away from Billy, a look of disgust on full display. You fully knew what this was now, he was just trying to get at Steve, get his perv hands onto a girl that had some type of relation with Steve. He was trying to prove some type of point. It made you feel like a toy or a trophy, “No thanks. I’m sure your dick would be jealous that your hand has a new relationship. Don’t want to be a homewrecker.”
With a slamming of your locker, you walked away from Billy. The heat of his stare could have left holes in your shoulder blades. The whispers in the halls sounded like they were directly inside your head, everyone watching and gossiping.
You made a beeline for the bathroom, any place away from unwanted attention.
“I hate boys, Eddie. Fucking idiots!”
“Babe, I do too, but we’re sadly attracted towards them,” a puff of smoke was released.
With your elbows digging into the cool metal of the table, your hands covered your face and you tugged them down resulting in your face looking horrid. Eddie was seated across from you, his curly hair blowing with the wind. A cigarette was placed between his lips and smoke would plume out with every exhale.
Once lunch rolled around you hurried outside the brick building and rushed into the dense forest. Robin also wasn’t present at school, but you knew she wasn’t connected to whatever reason Jonathan and Nancy skipped. So it was either your loneliness in the library, sitting with Steve causing more eyes to land on you, or hanging out with Eddie. The answer was obvious.
“Billy fucking Hargrove, that douchebag asked me out, just so he could hold it over Steve’s head.”
“Yeah, very gross-”
You interrupted Eddie, “it’s not like I would have said yes anyway. He creeps me out, just looking at girls as conquests, prizes to be won and then thrown onto shelves to never be touched again.”
“Well,” Eddie cleared his throat, “you know who else used to do that type of thing?”
Steve
“I know- I know that Steve used to-” you huffed, “but I personally know that he’s not the same anymore. He’s dating Nancy-”
“Uh, actually, I think they broke up,” Eddie stopped your rambling.
“W-what?”
It felt like you physically stopped in your tracks, or you abruptly slammed into someone’s back. It throws you off balance with reality having this confirmation being thrown your way, sure you’ve been thinking about it ever since you heard their argument, and they haven’t been seen together for two days now. But, Steve never mentioned it, or he’s living in denial right now, or they’re just going through a rocky patch right now and taking a break. Giving the others their needed space before getting back together, many couples do things like that.
“Yeah, I heard they had some fight,” Eddie confirmed the gossip.
“Well… they’re probably just on a break, you know. Lots of couples fight and then spend time apart.” “That’s called a breakup, (Y/n). They fight and it usually leads to the end of that relationship, plus why do you care so much if they stay together? Aren’t you in love with Steve?” You choked on your spit, “In love! I never- I- Who,” nervous giggles spilled, “I never said the L word.”
“But it was implied,” Eddie teased.
“When was it ever implied?”
A smirk grew on his chapped lips and you knew it was a bad sign, “Oh, I like to think it was implied when you wanted to kiss me twice.”
Your mouth was agape with shock, “First off! I was intoxicated both times, and second I don’t know why my brain keeps warping you into Steve.”
“Because you lov-” he was singing, annoyingly you might add.
“No! No!” you tried to cut him off.
“(Y/n) Byers loves Ste-” 
A hand over his mouth muffled his screech.
With no Jonathan at school, today meant another ride from Steve. With the bell ringing and signaling the end of classes, you waded through the crowded halls for a quick book drop-off at your locker. With all your books switched out and finished homework put away, you closed the metal door, excited for the weekend.
“(Y/n),” whipping around, you were faced with Steve who was leaning against your neighbor's locker.
“I thought I was meeting you in the parking lot?”
“Yeah, but I noticed Jonathan wasn’t here today, so I decided to just meet you here.”
He looked a bit hesitant when saying Jonathan’s name, he knew something, “Ah, okay. Well, I think I’m gonna call out today actually, I was gonna help my mom with Will. So I just need to call work before we leave, okay?” He gave a nod accompanied by a tight-lipped smile. He definitely knew something, and it was bothering him. You wondered if Billy mentioned this morning when he tried to ask you out, or if it had something to do with either Jonathan or Nancy. You wanted to ask, ask if he and Nancy did break up and if they did, were they gonna get back together. But you chose not to, for your own sanity, better to not know certain truths.
So, with a call from the payphone outside of school, a forced cough, and one annoyed James (a twenty-something co-worker), you and Steve headed off to his BMW. Between the short distance from the payphone and his car, the daggers being thrown your way didn’t stop for one second. Everyone who was in the vicinity watched the both of you head off, the whispers and gossip already spreading like wildfires. You kept your stride forward and head down, not wanting to entertain anyone at this moment, just wishing to be home right now and watching over Will. But once your hand touched the door handle you lifted your head and caught the direct glare of Billy Hargrove who was leaning against his car hood. You gulped and threw yourself inside the car. With shaking hands, you fasten your seatbelt and release a shaky breath.
“You okay?” Steve’s concern shone through.
“Uh, yeah. Might just need a nap when I get home,” not wanting to mention Billy’s stare or anyone else for that matter.
After a moment of Steve hesitating he finally pulled out of the lot, leaving the school behind for two days.
“So, you think I can still come over and hang out, sorry, watch you clean your room?” a cheeky grin.
“If you so desperately want to.”
“I do.”
A tingly feeling grew within you with just those two words, ‘dangerous territory’ another reminder.
Once Steve dropped you off, you went to check on Will in his room. You were shocked once you entered your home, drawings taped to every surface, forming something that you couldn’t see right now. So, choosing to ignore that you hurried to check on Will in his room and you stopped in your tracks at the sight before you. Together he and Joyce were asleep in his bed, Joyce was cuddling him with her back facing the door. She was holding Will tight against her chest with one arm thrown over his torso and the other resting still in his hair. A small smile tugged your lips at the display. With quiet retreating steps, you walked to your room and worked on a bit of cleaning so it was less messy when Steve came over tomorrow, trying to work around the taped pieces of paper.
After about two hours of light cleaning, you headed to the kitchen to get a snack when the sudden noise of loud pounding on the front door made you jump. With hurried steps, you reached the door and unlocked it, when you threw it open Mike was standing on the porch.
“Hey,” he sighed.
“Hi, Mike. What are-”
He cut you off, “Is Will here?”
“Uh,” a quick look inside the house, “You know what. Now is not a really good time.”
“Is he okay?” He was deeply concerned for Will at this moment.
You sighed, “Yeah,” you walked outside the threshold and closed the door, “You know, he’s…he’s just not feeling real well.”
You walked closer to him and placed a hand on his shoulder, “He’s laying down,” with the hand on his shoulder you used that to turn his body in the direction of his bike, “So, I’ll tell you stopped by, okay?”
Just as you turned and headed back to the door, Mike spoke up, “It’s about the shadow monster, isn’t it?”
You turned your attention back to him, “What shadow monster?”
“In the Upside Down.”
“Mom. Mom, wake up.”
Once Mike told you about the shadow monster you invited him inside and rushed to wake your mom and Will. Will had slowly developed a sweat in his sleep, his bangs sticking to his forehead and the front of his gray shirt was damp with sweat. Joyce woke up with a confused look across her face, so you pulled her into the hallway, leaving Mike with Will.
“Mike knows something about the shadow monster,” and just that sentence made her rush to the landline and dial for Hopper. With you following just on her heels, you paced the living room, your nails being chewed between your teeth. With a huff, she recalled the number. As she was doing that you looked at the drawings that you assumed came from Will while you were at school today. With some still sitting on a nearby table, you grabbed a page along with a roll of tape and walked around the house trying to see if there were any empty spaces in need of filling. None in the kitchen, or the living room, the hall was complete, so you went to check Jonathan’s room. With slow-moving eyes over the space, you paid attention to any free spots, and one caught your eye, on the wall opposite his bed. With it taped up, you walked back into the kitchen where Joyce was sitting at the table, hands stressing at her temples.
“Mom?”
Her head jerked up at your quiet voice, “Hoppers not answering?”
A sigh, “No. I’m both annoyed and worried, I even called the station, but no one knows where he is.”
“I’m sure he’s fine, mom. He’s always fine,” you tried to comfort her.
She worried at her lips, the anxiety making itself present in her eyes, “I’m gonna check up on Will and Mike, okay?”
She nodded her head absentmindedly.
With a final look at her, you left the kitchen and headed down the hall. You pressed an ear against Will’s closed bedroom door, trying to make out just a sentence of their conversation. Not being able to hear much on your side, you slowly opened the door just a crack. With just an eye being able to peek inside you saw at the moment you opened the door Mike grabbed onto Will’s hand that rested on his thigh, and told him with such sincerity about something involving their conversation, “We won’t let him.” Mike was looking directly at Will, a deep intensity to his words and the way he held himself, and the way he gripped Will’s hand. Will was breathing harshly, his body gave a slight shake as he looked at something in the corner of his room, his eyes both blank but fearful.
At that moment you made yourself present with a gentle rap of knuckles against the wood door. The boys looked up and Mike removed his hand from Will’s in a hurry. Your heart broke with just that small reflex.
“Everything alright?” your voice was just an octave above a whisper.
They looked at each other, having a silent conversation with just their eyes. They looked hesitant in telling you something, so you decided for them, “Why don’t we head to bed early? Mike, I can get a sleeping bag, if you want to sleep in here?”
“Yeah, yeah, that’s fine.”
You grabbed a rolled-up sleeping bag from a cabinet in the hall and handed it to Mike. He went to the side near Will’s desk and laid out the bundle. You took Mike’s spot next to Will and reached for his hand.
“Will, if you want, I could sleep in here tonight.”
You made the offer to him, but it was one you needed to ask for yourself, and hope he said yes. You had to keep him safe.
He didn’t give a verbal answer, just a slow nod of his head once. So with that, the both of you crawled into his bed, Will facing his desk, facing Mike on the floor. You were now the big spoon, the protector of the two of you, the first line of defense when danger came.
With an arm thrown over his fragile body, you tugged him close to your chest, your chin digging into his hair. You inhaled his scent, wanting to make sure you remembered every little detail about Will.
Blood.
It was everywhere.
The walls, the ceiling, handprints spotted everywhere, footprints leading in different directions. It was everywhere in the room. Its scent invaded the air, the metallic smell assaulting your nostrils, burning the scent into your mind. The wet feeling of it coated your hands, streaks of it stained your chest, and spots dotted your face. Your hair was matted against your temple, a mixture of sweat from running until you almost collapsed and blood that seeped from an open wound. Your clothes had cuts and holes in your shirt and pants, the claws that clung to you with a fierceness, a predator clinging to its prey.
Bodies.
Bodies covered the floor.
Mangled and shredded, limbs bent and broken in different ways. Faces crushed in, eyes popped out, mouths hang open in an endless cry for help. Skin ripped from muscle, muscle ripped from the bone.
The bile rising from your stomach burned the lining of your throat.
A hand raised to your mouth to shush your cries of anguish, but then the taste and feeling of blood made it worse. Your body shook like an earthquake, the fear and anxiety pooling over the edge and you had no time to work through any of it.
“(Y/n)?”
A quiet, choked voice echoed through the room.
You twirled in different directions, trying to pinpoint the one person still breathing in this lifeless room. You rushed from person to person, each dead and deformed face staring back at you, it was like the room was taunting you at this point.
“(Y/n), help,” the voice cried out, so broken.
With one last push of will, you saw movement in a far corner, the shuffling of a body, the titling of a head, the limp wave of a hand. You hurried through the bodies, almost slipping on the blood, and fell to your knees beside the still-breathing body.
“Will,” you cried out, tears forming within your eyes.
His body was intact, nothing broken on the outside, the inside could be a different story. His skin was pale, and sweat droplets traveled down his skin mixing with the blood that streaked his cheek.
Your hands rested on the side of his head, your forehead resting against his. Your breaths mixed between the two of you, your tears dropping and landing on his nose or his cheeks.
“You’re alive,” you exhaled the words like a prayer.
Then a tight sensation caught you by surprise. You pulled away from Will and saw his hands holding your wrist in an iron grasp, if he held any tighter he might break your bones.
“Will?” fright seeped into the way you spoke his name.
“It’s all your fault,” he hissed the words.
“What?”
“Every single one of them is dead, because of you.”
You tried tugging your wrist from his hold, but it was no use, “I don’t- I don’t understand.”
“Your friends, your family. Every single person you love is dead, and it’s because of you.”
“No, no. It’s not- that’s not true.”
“Oh, but it is, (Y/n).”
Will, but it wasn’t Will, lifted himself closer to your face. His features twisted and pinched, he looked nothing like the selfless boy who you would protect with your life. He looked like a monster who captured his prey in an unsuspecting trap.
“Just you wait and see, (Y/n). In due time, we’ll meet again.”
------------------------
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steveharrington · 1 year
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hmmm let’s do 8, 9, & 24 🔥
8. common fandom opinion that everyone is wrong about
hmmm i think people are generally wrong about nancy. i disagree with a lot of characterizations/head canons/discourse around her bc i just so often feel like people…… in the pursuit of trying to argue that she’s a strong female character actually end up diluting her most interesting and unique character traits. i know this is kinda what i said for will but people make nancy overly nice and passive when that doesn’t match her personality at all. even the SHOW does this like in s4 when jonathan is like “i just know that nancy would throw away her career and future to be with me 😔” like oh my god have you met nancy??? no the fuck she wouldnt!!! i think nancy is very similar to my beloved gale weathers in that they’re both very driven and determined to get what they want, and in the pursuit of whatever that is (justice for nancy, money for gale) they don’t really stop to think about if they’re affecting others. it happens with nancy Every Season bro like in season one she shows up to jonathan while he’s PICKING A COFFIN FOR WILL and she’s like knock knock hi :) come talk to me :), in s2 she cannot stand steve’s coping mechanism of just bottling things up so she ditches his ass, in s3 she ignores all of jonathan’s reservations about investigating and then can’t understand why he’s upset when they get in trouble, in s4 she goes to investigate the death of a student for The School Newspaper and literally walks right up to wayne and is like hi. everyone thinks your nephew murdered that girl whose body was found in your house last night but i don’t :) And im not saying any of this to criticize nancy because THOSE BEHAVIORS ARE FASCINATING!!! i WANT to see characters who think and behave in unique ways, esp if they cause conflict among the characters, but everyone in the fandom is soooo insistent on making sure we never imply that nancy has ever done anything wrong in her life and thus we end up stuck with this boring fanon version of nancy instead of embracing that she won’t hesitate to get what she wants no matter the cost!!!!
9. worst part of canon
sorry that last one was so long i’ll keep it brief here: evil russians plotline
24. answered :)
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cherrydreamer · 2 years
Text
(TW: The Billy/Karen thing, implied domestic violence) Billy doesn't know why he says it. Why he even mentioned it. Why he couldn't keep it in any longer. All he knows is that Karen Wheeler had made some passive aggressive remark to Joyce earlier that day, something about Jonathan being a 'quirky' choice for Nancy after Steve, and that Joyce hasn't stopped grumbling about it since.
“Quirky? I’ll show her quirky! Jonathan’s smart, and he’s kind and he’s got so much potential. That’s what she means. And that’s what Nancy likes.” and "How dare she say that about my boy? Jonathan's a good kid. He treats Nancy well. She should be happy they found each other!" and “Quirky? I can’t...I know exactly what she was trying to say. She thinks he’s not good enough. Well he’ll show her. My boy’s going to do such amazing things.”
And Billy's gets it. Kind of. He can see why Joyce is upset. But it still grates on him, the way she's so protective over Jonathan when he isn't even here to appreciate it; how she just won't shut up about it, even though Jonathan didn't even hear the comment and he probably wouldn't even be bothered by it if he did, and it's not like he can deny it, 'cause any idiot with eyes can see that of course Steve is the better choice- with that hair and those eyes and those chocolate chip moles everywhere and those jeans that fit just right and that smile that's like sunshine and a laugh that makes Billy want to laugh along too. How would anyone not choose him? Who would be dumb enough to ever trade that away? Who wouldn't want Steve?
Billy's not gonna think too hard on that. Not right now.
But Joyce keeps on bringing it up. She just won't stop ranting on about her perfect son and how wonderful he is and how proud she is of him and how she's so angry- actually, legitimately driven to fury- just because someone dared to say a bad word about her kid. Just words.  Words Jonathan didn't even hear. Words he'll never hear, because Joyce is dead set on protecting him from any tiny, little, insignificant thing that might hurt his fucking feelings. Because he's her boy.
And it all builds and builds. All of it bubbling up inside of Billy, all the frustration and longing and petty jealousy churning inside him until it all comes out, sour and acidic on his tongue,   "Yeah, well, least you don't have to worry about her wanting to fuck him."
He doesn't shout it. Doesn't even raise his voice. He just mutters it under his breath, more of a hiss than anything, but somehow it's enough that Joyce freezes at the sink, arms still submerged in the soapy water, and then turns to look at him, eyes wide with shock.
"What do you mean?" Joyce asks, "Billy?"
She grimaces, "What…huh…why? Why would you say that? That's not funny."
"No." Billy suddenly feels small. The churning in his gut is still there, but now it's mixing with a prickly surge of shame, "No, I know…I don't…I shouldn't have said-"
He's shaking. His voice is weird. Watery. Thick. And the words feel sticky and heavy as they push past the lump in his throat.
"Billy?" Joyce is coming over now, wiping her sudsy hands on her jeans, "Honey? What's wrong?" 
"Nothing. It was…bad joke. Just a really bad joke. I'm sorry."
"No," Joyce shakes her head, kneeling down beside Billy's chair, "No, honey, it's OK. But is there… Billy? Is there something you want to tell me?" 
No. 
The answer comes without thinking. Billy doesn't want to say anything, not really.  But, then again, he knows Joyce. He's told her things before, things he never told anyone. And she helped with those. Made him feel better. Less alone. Less wrong.
So maybe. Yes. 
"Mrs. Wheeler," he manages, "She, uh, before everything…" Billy ducks his head, feeling almost sick with the revelation,  "We were, uh…she wanted…" He can't think of any other way to say it. There's no point trying to dress it up in anything it isn't. "I was going to…to sleep with her."
And if he wasn't feeling so panicked, Billy might've laughed at the look of horror on Joyce's face, the way her eyes go wide and her jaw drops. The way she gasps, hands flying up to her face like some shitty actress in a terrible soap opera before turning to Hopper to gauge his reaction, "Hopper?" 
"Karen Wheeler, huh?" Hop lets out a wry chuckle, raising his can of beer in Billy's direction, "Nice work, son." He hums appreciatively but his smile drops as soon as he sees the fury on Joyce's face. 
"What?" He tries to argue, holding up his hands, "She's a good looking woman, Joyce. I've got eyes, OK? The kid did good. You don't have to be-"
"She's a grown woman," Joyce's voice is low. Dangerous. It's the angriest Billy's heard her and it puts him on edge, "An adult. And Billy’s a kid. It's like if you started sniffing around after Nancy. Or if Ted got his hands all over Jane."
Hopper flinches at that, then his face goes hard, "Don't say that," he hisses. 
"Why not?” Joyce stands up and gives an exaggerated shrug, “It's the same thing, isn’t it? Or would you be happier if he waited until after her senior prom?"
"That's enough, Joyce," Hopper warns, and Billy can see the set of his jaw. The red flush working its way up his face.  He hears the sound of the beer can crumpling underneath Hopper's fingers.  Billy stops breathing. He silently wills Joyce to stop talking. To listen. To finally shut up. 
But he knows Joyce, so he isn't surprised when she doesn't. 
"What about her eighteenth birthday?" Joyce says casually, waving a hand in the air, "Would that be better? It's legal, that's all that matters, right? And he's a good guy with a good job, after all." Her tone turns bitter again. "Would you say 'nice work' to Jane too?"
"I said that's enough!"
Hopper's hand thumps on the table, sending the beer can flying, and Billy flies up from his seat, knocking his chair back in his haste to round the table and put himself directly in between Jim and Joyce. He's alert now, tracking Hopper's every movement, eyes flicking between his expression and his clenched fist.
He widens his stance, feet planted firmly. His own hands curl tightly, 
"No," Billy growls. His heart is hammering fit to burst, and he knows he's shaking like a leaf, but he stares Hopper down regardless, "No. No. You don't touch her. You won't hurt her. I started this, it's my fault."  
Behind him, Joyce is saying something, but Billy doesn't turn around. He doesn’t even move when he feels Joyce’s hand on his arm, gently trying to pull him back. "Oh, Billy, oh no." Joyce whispers. She sounds pained and then her voice turns quiet and gentle, lacking any trace of the venom from before, “You don’t have to do that, honey. That’s not what's happening. I’m sorry, sweetheart, I’m sorry.” 
“Yeah,” Hopper mutters gruffly, “Sorry, kid. I wasn't thinking. And I get it now. Karen, she, uh, she shouldn't have done that. Gone along with it or whatever. It wasn't right." 
The tension hasn't exactly diffused, but Hopper's hand is unclenched now, so Billy walks past him, keeping his distance, and goes to finish washing the dishes that Joyce left soaking in the sink.
He hears Hopper mumbling something, an excuse, and then he hears him leave, and a moment later Joyce appears back by Billy's side, wringing a damp dish towel in her hands. For a while neither of them say anything. They work together, Billy washes and Joyce dries, stacking the plates haphazardly on the side, and there's no sound but the splash of water and the clack of crockery to fill the air.  And then Billy starts to talk.  And he tells Joyce everything. 
  ***  Billy should've known it would happen eventually. He knows Karen has started coming around more, wheedling Joyce about Jonathan and his future plans and whether there's been any hint of wedding bells and whether he knows that it's customary to ask Nancy's father before he proposes and how would Joyce feel about a church wedding, because of the divorce and- 
That's normally when Joyce changes the subject. But Billy knew that  this time would be different. That Joyce wouldn't play along with all the small talk with a fake smile on her face and an equally fake little laugh. He knows Joyce. He knows she's going to say something about…it. About him. And he also knows that he shouldn't be listening. But he can't help it. 
Because Joyce's voice is low, but the fury in it carries through the walls, and if Billy had thought that Joyce sounded dangerous before, it's nothing compared to this. He can't quite catch all she's saying, but he picks up a few things, key phrases ringing in his ear like,
"You're old enough to be his mother."  and "He's practically a kid, Karen. He's Nancy's age." and "It doesn't matter what he did. Or what he said. You should know better." and "You were wrong."
Despite what he's expecting, Billy doesn't hear Joyce say a single bad word about him. All of her fury, her disgust, her condemnation is aimed squarely at Karen, and Billy creeps out of his room in time to see Karen seemingly wilting with the force of it, backing away from Joyce until she's standing in the doorway. And then Joyce delivers her final blow.
"You stay away from my boy, Karen Wheeler." 
Karen opens her mouth to reply, but Joyce slams the door in her face, startling a little when she turns and spots Billy standing awkwardly in the hall. 
"Oh, hey there," she smiles, but Billy can see the way her hands are trembling, "I'm sorry, I didn't know you were there. You OK? Should I make a start on lunch? Or maybe coffee? Coffee would be good, right? I should make some-"
"I'm your…?" Billy steps forward, trying to cut her off, stop her rambling, but his voice gives out. He almost daren't say it. But he wants to know. To be sure. He swallows and tries once more. "I'm your boy?" 
His voice cracks on the last word and it takes Joyce a moment to understand what he means, but Billy sees the moment it dawns on her. The very second she remembers her words to Karen. Her strained smile grows into a big, bright one, so warm and full of love, and Billy finds himself being wrapped in her arms and surrounded by her love, 
"Of course, sweetie. Yes of course you are. My boy. And I always look out for my boys."
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