#&*. sharing cigarettes ( hopper & joyce ).

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

Steddie Upside-down AU Part 29

Part 1 Part 28

“I’m going,” Eddie asserts.

“This isn’t up for debate, kid,” Hopper sighs.

“You’re right because I’m going!”

Eddie’s shouting at the chief of police and can’t be bothered to care. All he can think about is Supergirl shouting Steve’s name with desperation. Steve curled into a ball in his closet; the place he’d dragged Eddie on instinct. The place he’d gone to keep himself safe.

Hopper glares at him before clearly giving him up as a lost cause and turning his glare on Wayne.

Wayne holds up his hands, palms out, saying, “don’t look at me. That boy’s been obstinate since the day he was born. If he’s set on going, I’m gonna go with him.”

Wayne pats the shotgun slung over his shoulder as if to remind himself it’s there. Eddie blows out his breath, shoulders slumping in relief. He is not in this alone.

“Wonder where he got that from,” Hopper mutters, turning and stalking over to where Joyce is standing beside Will. “Stay and watch the kids.” He says it like an order, ignoring Joyce’s exasperated expression as he heads toward the exit. No wonder the guy’s single.

Wayne and Eddie share a glance before following in his wake.

He looks back once, to where the kids are still seated on the bleachers to get one last look at Will. The fishhook in his sternum is pulling him in two directions, like a medieval torture device. But Will nods, so he goes even as it hurts.

Eddie grumbles half-heartedly as he levers himself into the back of Hopper’s police truck, Wayne and Hopper settling much more comfortably in the front seats.

“This brings back memories,” Eddie says, looking fondly down at the black burn on Hopper’s upholstery where Eddie had put out his cigarette as a pissed off fourteen-year-old.

“Shut the hell up,” Hopper replies while Wayne just laughs.

It’s a short drive, the way anything in a small town takes about ten minutes to get to. Hopper cuts the headlights early, slows his truck to a crawl to keep from veering off the dark road. Eddie’s knee is jumping up and down with the need to move.

When they stop, it’s not at a building or a gate, or anywhere much at all. Hopper pulls his truck off the road, half-hardy putting it in park behind a grove of trees. Eddie resists the urge to shake Wayne’s seat back and forth like an unruly child when the man takes his time to get his old bones out of the car and set Eddie free.

Hopper fishes a pair of bolt cutters out of the back and leads them into the forest. It’s dark. A normal, dark forest, with the right kind of shadows and the right kind of wildlife. It should feel like relief. It doesn’t. It doesn’t take long to come to a nondescript bit of chain-link fence.

It becomes clear what the bolt cutters are for quickly.

“This is your plan?” Eddie asks, incredulous. “A little B & E?”

“It worked last time, didn’t it?” Hopper asks, not looking over at him, concentrating on snipping away the fence and entirely missing the point.

“Did it?” Wayne asks.

Hopper lets out a quiet, “mmhmm,” as he finishes cutting away enough of the fence for them to slip though. “Come on, trust me.” He slips through the hole, shirt getting briefly snagged before pulling free.

Eddie follows immediately, Wayne following behind with his usual quiet grumbling about being too old for this.

They start walking, nothing to differentiate one side of the fence from the other. Eddie huddles close to Wayne as they walk, feeling the breeze kick up through the same ratty jacket and vest he’s been wearing for almost a week now. He wonders if Steve’s cold, or if he grabbed a blanket before bundling up and waiting for rescue.

The trees have just started thinning when beams of light are suddenly jumping around the forest. For a second, Eddie thinks they’ve already somehow made it into that other place, the Upside-Down, and someone is walking over their graves, but then a voice yells, “freeze!”

Wayne yanks Eddie behind him with the lapel of his vest before raising his hands. Hopper steps in front of them both, raising his hands as well, palms wide and far apart. Eddie knows when to take his cues. He raises his hands.

“Let me do the talking,” Hopper says quietly.

Eddie scoffs. “Yeah, because you’re so charming.”

Hopper’s fingers flex, like he wants to clench them into fists before he thinks better of it. “Trust me,” he hisses.

With no other options, Eddie sighs out a quiet, “fine,” just before his hands are wrenched behind his back and handcuffed.

It’s not a long walk until the building looms in front of them. He’s not sure if it’s the gun pressed into his back, or the tidbits he’d caught about how the super-powered girl came to be, but the building seems to loom over them ominously, more the mouth of a monster than the pulsing red doorway into the Upside-Down ever was.

Eddie doesn’t struggle until Uncle Wayne and Hopper are lead down one hallway while he’s yanked down another by the crook of his arm.

“Let me go,” he snarls, ignoring the gun still aimed at him, and the way the chain digs into his wrist as he struggles. “Uncle Wayne!” He hates the way his voice cracks on the words.

“Hang tight,” Wayne calls. “We’ll be back.”

He says it like he’s in charge of the situation. As if he’s not also handcuffed and being led away at gunpoint. It makes Eddie’s shoulders loosen anyway, panic receding just enough that he lets himself be shoved through a doorway and into a chair, hands uncuffed just long enough to cuff him to the back of the chair instead.

The room is small and sterile – grey walls, grey table, grey chair. Black camera recording him from the corner of the room. Eddie slumps, trying to look glib and uncaring, curling his fingers hard into the chain of his cuffs to stop his fingers from trembling.

Everything just keeps going wrong. He got out of the Upside-Down, but Steve was still stuck there. They get a plan to get him out and are immediately held at gunpoint and shoved into separate pseudo prison cells.

Steve could be dead my now. Will’s out of his sight. And the last he’d seen of Uncle Wayne was him striding down the hallway with a gun to his head.

Eddie takes deep breaths, trying to stay calm. Counting to four breathing in, counting to six breathing out. He loosens his hands, softens his shoulders, softens his brow. Closes his eyes. Breaths. Keeps breathing until the door opens, then closes with a metallic clang.

A nondescript older man with white hair walks into the room. He’s got a dark grey suit on, matching tie, button-down shirt tucked into pants that look like they’ve been ironed. He stands like he’s used to being listened to. Posture as straight as the line of his mouth as he takes a seat on the chair across from Eddie, crossing his legs at the ankle.

“You must be Eddie Munson,” he says, raising his mouth in a smile. It makes Eddie shiver. “I’m delighted to make your acquaintance.”

Eddie doesn’t respond, doesn’t look away from the predator in the room.

“We know you were there,” the man says, crossing his hands atop the table. When Eddie still doesn’t say anything, he continues. “Six.”

The silence grows stilted. Uncomfortable. Eddie’s not sure the other man is even blinking. Or maybe he’s somehow blinking at the exact same time as Eddie?

His throat is dry – it makes an audible clicking nice as he swallows, before finally speaking. “What?”

“Six people have been taken this week. This thing that took you. Took Steve Harrington and Will Byers?” he says, leaning forward in his chair, back still straight as he looms over Eddie. “We don’t really understand tt.”

The last line comes out in a whisper, like he’s an extra in a horror movie, trying to spook the main characters into running away before the final confrontation with a great evil. Eddie’s pretty sure the greatest evil is sitting right in front of him.

“But its behavior is predictable. Like all animals, it eats.”

Eddie is unpleasantly reminded of Nancy’s spiel in the Byers dining room, watching her string together observations like she could wrench the facts out of them. She would make a far more dangerous villain than this schmuck. It makes him sit up straighter, made more confidant by the thought of Nancy Wheeler kicking his ass. Who would’ve thought?

“It will take more children,” the man continues. “I want to save them. I want to save your friend, but I can’t do that. Not without your help.”

Abruptly, Eddie is furious that this man would come in here and try to put this all on him. “Are you fucking kidding me?” he asks, voice quiet. When the man lifts an eyebrow, he continues, voice growing louder with ever word. “You had a funeral for fucking Will Byers, let Steve Harrington rot in a different world, probably unleashed that fucking thing on Hawkins in the first place, and now you’re asking for my help?”

The man’s face is made of stone. He doesn’t acknowledge Eddie’s comments, just sits there placidly waiting for him to bend. To break. He’s clearly never met a Munson. They don’t fucking bend for anyone. Eddie spits in the man’s face.

He doesn’t react beyond a sedate smile as he gets up and leaves the room without another word, leaving Eddie alone with his spinning thoughts and dry throat.

Part 30

[sade-alicious]

another thing im excited for in season 5 is domestic jopper. them giving each other pecks on the lips, them glancing at each other finally knowing what it means, them co-parenting the byers kids, hopper doing small acts for joyce, them sharing a cigarette together… the list goes on

[wannabespacesmuggler]

J.H. | The Duality of Jim Hopper

Masterlist | Buy me a coffee

Summary: Ever since Joyce introduced you to the local chief of police, Jim Hopper, you’ve thought maybe this town is a little too small. You’re certain that there is no truth behind the rumors until you take one hell of a beating and Hopper wants answers.

Pairing: Jim Hopper x Reader

Warnings: mentions of an injury, teenagers being punks, swearing, Hopper being Hopper

Word Count: 4.5k

“How are you settling in?”

The voice tears your attention away from one of the books piled up on the table in front of you. You glance toward the sound and see Marissa, the librarian, standing beside you. A part of you wants to groan at her question because you are acutely aware that you don’t share the same history as most of your friends in Hawkins. 

You didn’t approach another child on the playground during your first day of kindergarten and establish a once in a lifetime kind of friendship -- like Mike and Will. You didn’t share cigarettes under the bleachers of your local high school while attempting to not get busted by administration -- like Joyce and Hopper. You didn’t attend new mother classes and bond over the newfound joy of motherhood -- like Karen and Marsha.

No. You haven’t lived in this small town your entire life. You moved to Hawkins after everyone your age had settled into their lives -- with jobs, and spouses, and children. Meanwhile, you came to Hawkins from Indianapolis in an attempt to have a quieter life. No children, no spouse, and no job -- that is until you had an interview with Donald Melvald.

And Melvald’s is where you met Joyce Byers, who quickly became your lifeline in Hawkins. You remember your first day at work, when she took all day just to train you. Little did you know, Joyce was just as excited as you were to have some company throughout the day. She easily took you under her wing and brought you up to date with the history of Hawkins. Eventually, she invited you into her life and home. Dinners at the Byers’ home became more frequent as you continued working together. The Byers slowly became your family in Hawkins.

“I’m doing well. Thank you for checking in.”

She gives you a polite smile. You were hoping she’d leave the conversation at that, but she asks you another question.

“Are you still working over at Melvald’s with Joyce?”

You give her a nod in response and turn your attention back to the stack of books that Will had recommended to you. It’s not that you don’t like Marissa. She’s fantastic at her job and you enjoyed the few conversations you have had with her, but you know she’s also a gossip -- or at least that’s what Joyce told you when you asked why the local librarian started asking you so many personal questions during your first visit. 

“How’s she doing?”

“She’s good. So are the boys. I’m actually going over there for dinner tonight.”

You hope you’ve given her enough information to quench her thirst for details.

“Oh. With the Chief?”

Apparently not. 

Your brow furrows at her question and you shake your head. Ever since Joyce introduced you to the local chief of police, Jim Hopper, you’ve thought maybe this town is a little too small. 

The two of you became quick friends, but you weren’t aware of his reputation in town until after you had dinner with him. It wasn’t even supposed to be just the two of you at Benny’s; Joyce was actually the one who had planned the little outing, but Will ended up coming home from school early that day with a fever, so Joyce had to cancel last minute. Hopper ended up wandering into Melvald’s later that day after Joyce had called the two of you about her predicament. 

“We can still go tonight. If you want?”

Hopper will never tell you that he wants to take you out to dinner. Instead, he leaves the decision to you; afraid of the rejection that could come if he were to just blatantly ask you out. 

You shrug before giving him a verbal answer.

“I don’t have anything else going on tonight.”

Hopper smiles as he leans against the counter, watching as you continue restocking the shelves. 

“Meet you at Benny’s? 7:00 o’clock?”

You stop restocking and glance up at him. If you didn’t know him, you’d think he was intimidating. He’s a large man and his presence practically demands your attention. Hell, his broad frame is taking up half the counter. But then his hands are anxiously fiddling with an unlit cigarette as he waits for your response. It almost makes you laugh -- the duality of Jim Hopper.

“Actually, can you pick me up? My car has been acting up.”

“I’ll be there at 7:00 and maybe I can take a look at your car?”

Jim watches you stand up. As you walk past him to get behind the counter, you gently place your hand on his bicep. It’s nothing you haven’t done before, but for some reason, every single fucking time you touch him, Hopper has to fight off the shiver that begs to journey down his spine. He doesn’t give it a second thought though. He can’t. He’s had his heart locked up tight for years. He isn’t sure if he could find the key even if he tried.

“You’re a lifesaver, Hop.”

You enjoyed dinner and Jim did end up fixing your car that night. You repaid him for the ride and a free tune-up with a case of beer, which the two of you powered through in the span of a few hours. At some point, you stole the keys to Hopper’s truck and convinced him the crash on your couch for the night. The next day, you two were the talk of the town after your neighbor told everyone she knew that the chief of police was leaving your house awfully early in the morning.

Since then, you’ve gotten quite a few questions about Hopper from the local citizens who didn’t know you too well -- assuming you were just another one of his many flings.

It takes everything in you to not roll your eyes at Marissa. Still, you offer her a polite response.

“Hopper’s working tonight.”

Marissa seems to be content in your answer and leaves you with your stack of books. You let out a sigh of relief and glance out the window. A small smile pulls at your lips as you spot Jonathan and Nancy talking to a group of boys in the parking lot, until you see one of the boys throw a punch a Jonathan.

You hastily push out your chair, turn on your heels, burst through the doors and sprint through the parking lot. You can hear Nancy begging for the boys to stop, but her protests fall on deaf ears as the boys continue to pummel Jonathan. Nancy turns toward you and relief washes over her features -- she doesn’t know you well, but Jonathan has always spoke highly of you and right now she’ll take any help offered.

“Get off of him!” 

Your voice gets one of the boys’ attention for just a moment.

“This has nothing to do with you!”

You furrow your brow at the comment. Jonathan may not be your child; however, you care for him as if he was your own and you’re not going to let this teenager lay another hand on him. Quickly, you try to get inbetween the two boys. You think you have the upperhand until the boy on top of Jonathan throws his elbow back in an attempt to get you off of him. His elbow cracks you in the nose and immediately sends you crashing to the ground. The sound of your body hitting the gravel stops the boy’s assault on Jonathan. He turns to you and you can tell by the look in his eyes that he did not mean to hurt you; he had been blinded by anger and made a stupid decision.

However, those stupid decisions seem to continue as you watch red and blue lights reflect off of Jonathan’s car. You can vaguely hear the sound of a police siren and someone yelling your name, as you watch the boy who had been pummeling Jonathan into the pavement run in the other direction. You take a moment to take in details about the boy, knowing that you’ll end up at the station giving a description of the boy to Hopper. 

As you try to get up, you’re met with the face of Officer Callahan. 

“Woah, there. Seems like you took quite a beating.”

“No, no, no. Jonathan. You need to check on Jonathan.”

Officer Callahan puts a gentle, but firm hand on your shoulder to keep you in place as you frantically search for the boy.

“It’s okay. Powell’s with him right now. We’re going to get you both to the hospital. Chief is already on his way.”

You give Callahan a nod and lay back down on the rough gravel. As the adrenaline begins to leave your system, the pounding in your head starts to take precedence. In an attempt to ease the pain, you close your eyes. You only mean for it to be a minute, but as you hear Callahan’s voice begging for you to just hold on, you feel yourself slipping deeper and deeper into unconsciousness.

When you open your eyes again, the pounding in your head has dulled and your ears are met with the rhythmic sound of your heart beat on the monitor next to you. You’re about to call for a nurse to get some information when you hear a woman yell from down the hall. 

“Sir, you can’t smoke in here!”

You hear a string of grumbled expletives before a familiar figure leans against the doorframe of your hospital room. 

“Hey, Hop.”

He’s disheveled. His uniform shirt is fully unbuttoned and falling off one shoulder, leaving his henley to be on full display. It looks as though he threw on the shirt hastily as he pulled into the hospital parking lot. Somewhere in the chaos he’s lost his hat as well, allowing you a glimpse at his unusually tousled hair -- he’s been running his hands through it in frustration since he got the call from Callahan that you were on your way to the hospital.

His eyes rake over your body, checking for injuries, before they settle on your face. The hardened anger in his gaze quickly fades to a tender concern as he studies your broken nose and two black eyes. 

Eventually, he moves from the doorframe and takes large strides toward you. He towers over your body as he stands beside your hospital bed. His jaw is clenched so hard that you begin to worry that the man might crack a tooth. The anger in the pit of his stomach begins boiling over once more as he gets a better look at your injuries -- they’re much worse upon closer inspection. Callahan was right -- you took one hell of a beating.

“Hop.”

Hopper lets out a solemn sigh as you slide your hand into his. Finally, he meets your gaze and his features soften. You swallow a string of emotions -- Hopper has never looked at you this tenderly before. It’s a lot to take in -- on one hand he’s got a warmth in his features that you’ve never witnessed before that only seemed to spark once he entered your hospital room and, on the otherhand, his body is so rigid that you fear he might snap if another goddamn thing happens today.

Keeping a tight grip on your hand, he takes a seat beside you on the small hospital bed. He reaches out and places his free hand on the side of your face. Your breath catches in your chest as his thumb gently traces over your wounds. His touch is careful, the softest whisper of contact. He’d stop if you asked him to, but you wouldn’t dare. You’d let him trace over the bridge of your nose over and over and over again, if it means that you’ll maintain Jim Hopper’s undivided attention. However, as he grazes over the area where the kid split your nose open, you flinch away from his touch. He pulls his hand back immediately and anger washes over his features once more. It was only for a second, but it was enough for you to recognize the festering rage stewing in the back of Hopper’s mind. 

“Who did this to you?”

His voice is low and he ducks his head down to your level, maintaining eye contact with you as he speaks. You open your mouth but no words come out. You’re entirely enamored in the duality of Jim Hopper once again -- fierce and rageful, while simultaneously gentle and kind. A protector in every sense of the word. He moves cautiously, placing his hands on either side of your face. He’s cradling your face like a coveted prize jewel. He takes a moment and then asks you again.

“Sweetheart, who hurt you?”

You finally let out the breath that got caught in your throat. His voice is somehow sweet as honey while simultaneously laced with venom. 

“It was just some punk kid that was giving Jonathan trouble.”

His brow furrows immediately at your response.

“What kid? I’ll make sure he never touches you again. And Jonathan.”

There’s a beat before he says the last two words. He rushes to add Jonathan into the equation in an attempt to make it seem like he’s sitting here with you because it’s his job, and not because his heart dropped into his stomach when he got the call from Callahan. He didn’t even both listening to the rest of Callahan’s message over the walkie. He knew someone hurt you and that you were being escorted by an ambulance -- that was more than enough to get him racing to his truck and speeding to the hospital. But now, in this moment, where it is just you and Hopper, he tries to cover up the fact that he’s here solely because he cares for you. 

“He didn’t mean to hurt me.”

He looks at you with an incredulous expression. Where Jim is harsh, you are forgiving. He’s always appreciated the ways you’ve challenged him since you moved to Hawkins. But, right now, he wishes you were as angry as he was. But, instead, you’re sitting here with your infinite grace and it’s just pissing him off more. He retracts his hands from your face and stands up, before raking a hand through his hair in frustration.

“Oh, he didn’t mean to hurt you? Sorry, sweetheart, Callahan didn’t relay that to me that in his message -- you know the one where he let me know you were unconscious! I should go find him then, right? So I can check in on him?”

The honey is long gone from his voice, it is all venom. And the way he says ‘sweetheart’ this time is almost condescending. You’ve heard Hopper raise his voice before, his anger is no stranger to you; however, this is the first time he has risen his voice at you. It startles you for a moment. You let out a frustrated breath and furrow your brow.

“Hey, don’t take this out on me. That isn’t fair.”

“You scared the shit out of me!”

And then there is a painful silence between the two of you. Hopper is practically panting as he tries to regain his composure. Against his better judgment, he glances in your direction. Guilt immediately blooms where anger had previously resided. Deciding he’s done enough damage, he turns and begins to walk toward the door in an attempt to find Jonathan’s room. 

“Hey, Hop. Wait.”

Hopper stops as he hears your voice. It sounds smaller than normal -- almost as if you were scared that he’d cast your plea aside and leave you in this room alone. Don’t you know by now he would do anything you asked of him? He lets out a sigh before turning back to you. 

“Please don’t go.”

Hopper nods at your request before slowly making his way back over to you. This time, instead of sitting beside you on the small hospital bed, he pulls a chair up to your bedside and slumps into it. He no longer looks angry or concerned or soft. No, he just looks exhausted and the sight causes a sharp pain in your heart. The two of you sit in silence for a few moment before Hopper notices your hands wringing anxiously. He decides then to break the silence.

“How did you even get caught up in this mess?”

You let out a laugh before answering, catching Hopper off guard.

“I was actually at the library.”

Hopper raises an eyebrow at your confession and looks at you in disbelief. 

“You’re joking.”

The two of you laugh together at your absolute dumb luck. You’re glad that the tension in the room has dissipated. Now, the silence is comfortable.

“You know Marissa?”

Hopper raises a brow at you once more.

“The librarian?”

“Yes, the librarian. I think she likes you.”

Hopper lets out a half-hearted laugh at your comment. A part of him wishes you were around when he was a younger man -- when he was less bitter. Before the war totured the boyish charmisa out of him. Yet another is glad that you weren’t there to witness his past. That unlike everyone else, you don’t assume that he’s already slept with the local librarian -- even if it’s true.

“Trust me. I know.”

You stare at him with a look of naive confusion. Eventually, you put the pieces together and your eyes light up. You roll your eyes and laugh before covering you face with your hands.

“This explains so much.”

Now it’s Hopper’s turn to be confused.

“What are you talking about?”

“She asks about you all the time.”

If Hopper were a few years younger, that comment would fuel his ego; however, those days are behind him.

“And that explains why she doesn’t like me.”

Hopper is taken aback by that comment. He can’t imagine why anyone wouldn’t like you.

“Why wouldn’t she like you?”

“Because she believes what everyone else does.”

Hopper looks at you as if you’re speaking a different language. You let out a laugh at his oblivious nature which only seems to confuse him more. It makes sense that the comments were directed toward you and not the intimidating chief of police; however, you can’t believe he hasn’t overheard anyone talking about it at this point.

“People talked after you crashed on my couch that night.”

“Oh.”

You don’t have to get into details about what they said. Hopper knows. He knows his reputation proceeds him. And he should have known that spending more time with you would raise a few eyebrows in town. Sometimes he hates this stupid small town and the fact that someone is always watching.

“Did you think about it?”

Hopper looks at you for a moment before he furrows his brow. God, this oblivious man is going to kill you. Deciding that it’s too late to back out now, you decide to double down. 

“Did you think about me that night like you thought about Marissa?”

“How hard did that kid hit you?”

He attempts to lighten the mood and brush off the question, but you won’t have it. He’s avoiding your eye contact, deciding instead to fiddle with the pack of cigarettes that he pulled out from his pocket.

“Jim.”

It knocks the breath out of his lungs. You’ve only called him that one other time -- the same night you’re asking about. Hopper was already one too many beers in when you fell beside him, onto the couch. He let out a loud laugh while throwing an arm behind you, on the back of the couch. You laugh along with him and lean your head back into his arm. You turn your head to face him and you’re suddenly aware of how close you are to Hopper. He’s looking at you like you’re a goddamn dream. And you’re not sure what time it is but Hopper looks softer in the moonlight. And you know you’re not thinking straight; however, leaning into the sudden intimacy between you and Hopper doesn’t seem like a terrible idea.

And then you say his name. And it sounds like a goddamn prayer. His mind is fuzzy and he swears you’ve never looked as stunning as you do right now -- he takes a moment to capture this memory and file it away into the back of his subconscious.

He watches as you lean into him. You move slowly, allowing him room to back away if he wanted; however, he doesn’t pull back. Instead, he takes your lead and leans in as well. Before any drunken, heat of the moment decisions can be made, your phone rings, cutting through the thick silence. Hopper emits a low growl, but allows you to pull away and leave the room. You answer the phone and he can hear your voice from the other room. He sets his beer down on your coffee table, deciding that he’s definitely had enough to drink. By the time you return to your living room, Hopper is snoring and the moment has passed.

He may not be drunk now; however, he’s just as enamored as he was that night as you say his name. 

“No.”

His answer hits you harder the elbow you took to the face. Your eyes fall to your hands and you nod. Hopper is immediately filled with regret. God, he’s an idiot. That’s not what he meant. Of course he’s thought about you. It’s just different and he’s not quite sure how to explain it to you, but he’s going to try because he cannot stand the sadness that has washed over your features.

“Sweetheart, you’re not Marissa. When I was with her, I wasn’t thinking about her; I was just thinking about me. Of course I thought about it that night -- you and I.  It’s just you could never be just a fling to me.”

Hopper avoids eye contact with you as he speaks, but it doesn’t matter. His honest words make your heart flutter and repair the heartbreak that his previous answer caused. A small smile spread across your face at the sudden realization that Hopper likes you. 

“I thought about it too, that night.”

Hopper’s head rises and he meets your gaze. 

“You know -- you and I.”

You repeat Hopper’s words back to him with a small smile on your face. Hopper can’t help the laugh that escapes him. The two of you have entered uncharted waters; however, Hopper has never felt more comfortable than he does right nwo, wading into the deep end with you. He moves his chair closer to your bedside and takes your hand in his once again. When he meets your eyes, your breath is once again trapped in your lungs. It’s like you’ve transported right back to that night and you’re Jim Hopper’s answered prayer. 

“You know, the kid hit you pretty fucking hard. Are you sure you’re thinking straight?”

You roll your eyes; however, Hopper still manages to get a good laugh out of you. Even when he’s flirting, he’s still a goddamn smartass.

“Just kiss me, Jim.”

You don’t need to tell him twice. In a moment, he’s out of his seat -- towering over you once again. If you were any other person in Hawkins, you would probably perceive Jim’s presence so close to you as formidable, but, right now, you just feel safe. And you can’t help but lost in the duality of Jim Hopper. 

He moves his hands and gently cradles your face. Your eyes close as you lean into his touch. You allow yourself to just enjoy the feeling of Jim’s skin on your own, until he traces his thumb over your bottom lip. As you open your eyes, you’re met with Jim only a breath away from you. You lean into him and then his lips meet yours and it just feels right - like everything has finally fallen into place; Hawkins, Melvald’s, the Byer’s family, Jim.

Jim’s movements are gentle and slow, until you grab a fistful of his open sheriff’s uniform and pull him closer. The guttural growl that reverberates in Jim’s chest as he moves his hands down your body, sends a shiver down your spine. The sweet, lazy kiss has now turned into something more passionate and desperate. Seemingly lost in the moment, Jim nudges his nose against yours which makes you involuntarily let out a pained hiss. Jim pulls away instantly and his eyes fill with panic, until he realizes what he’s done. A soft chuckle escapes him as he leans his forehead against yours. 

“Sorry. Got a little carried away.”

His voice is low and sultry. You’ve never heard anything so heavenly before. And then you're laughing with him. Today has been overwhelming, to say the least, and it’s comical to you. Jim leans back again and meets your eyes. There’s a new fierceness in his gaze that isn’t quite so rageful. He moves his hand to gently tuck a few strands of hair behind your ear. 

He opens his mouth to say something, but is interrupted by footsteps stopping just outside your hospital room and a surprised gasp. Jim’s eyes close and he shakes his head. He should have known -- there is no such thing as privacy in this small town. He opens his eyes and you’re smiling at him. You’re fucking smiling at him and it takes everything in him to not kiss you again. 

“It’s Joyce isn’t it?”

You peek over his shoulder and spot Joyce standing in the doorway with both of her hands over her mouth. The sight makes your smile grow and you nod your head to answer Jim’s question. He lets out an annoyed sigh and finally moves away from you. Jim doesn’t go too far though, he simply sits on the edge of your hospital bed and keeps a protective hand on your thigh.

“Joyce.”

Jim’s voice is stern. The dramatic change in tone almost gives you whiplash. Joyce seems to be at a loss for words as she just moves her gaze between you both. Jim finally throws both of his hands up in front of him, exasperatedly. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

Jim rolls his eyes at her apology, but there’s a small smile plastered on his face. He might be impatient and uncordial with almost everyone in this small town; however, Jim Hopper has always had a soft spot for Joyce Byers. And right now, Jim feels like he’s back in high school. Joyce has never been nonchalant, so every time Jim included her in his extracurricular activities, it always seemed to bite him in the ass; however, no amount of detentions ever stopped him from inviting her into his life. 

“It’s fine, Joyce. How’s Jonathan?”

Your nerves dissipate once Joyce lets you both know that Jonathan is perfectly fine -- a little bruised and battered, but ultimately okay. She attempts to make some awkward small talk with you both, before excusing herself from the conversation so that she can go check on Jonathan. 

With that, Jim’s attention is once again focused solely on you. He moves to kiss you again, but stops once his forehead meets yours.

“I swear to God, if a nurse barges in next.” 

“Shut up and kiss me, Hopper.”

A content smile spreads across his face at your words. He could get used to hearing those words -- he could get used to all of this. 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

[stevie-petey]

LOVING where you’re going with Bug and Steve’s story so far. Looking forward to the next chapter🥰

I have a blurb idea!! What about Bug’s reaction to Dustin being sad at the Snow Ball when all the girls said no to him🥲and her reaction to Nancy dancing with him.

Ps. Sorry I meant to send this as an ask the first time my b😅

thank youuuu <3 n i so wanted to add this scene in but the chapter was already 20k words and i simply couldnt but YES i will happily elaborate on this

enjoy <3

"should i go and dance with him?" you ask nancy, nervously fidgeting with your fingers as you watch dustin, all alone with his head ducked in shame as he stands in the corner and watches his peers. since arriving, hes been rejected again and again by the girls at the dance.

nancy bites her lip, unsure herself what to do. "youre his sister, i think it might make it worse if you dance with him." she confesses with a sigh.

you both watch as dustin walks towards the bleachers in defeat, and it takes everything within you not to run after him. his shoulders are shaking, you know hes holding back tears. he had been so excited for tonight, and now he sits all alone, once again beaten down by peers who have no idea what hes done for them. dustin henderson is a hero, hes saved hawkins, and yet hes treated like a freak.

he deserves the entire world.

"thats it," you cant take it anymore. youre dustins sister, hes your baby brother, how can you be expected to stand as watch as he gets his heart broken? "im gonna go dance with him-"

"no!" nancy grabs your hand to stop you.

you pull at your wrist, annoyed and hurt that she expects you to do nothing as dustin cries. "hes my brother, screw whatever those stupid kids say-"

"i'll dance with him."

you gape at nancy, unsure if you heard her correctly. "you... what?"

"here," she hands you the punch ladle and then wipes her hands, a smile on her face as if this is a regular occurance for her. she fixes her hair, straightens out her dress, and then takes a deep breath. "i remember his crush he used to have on me. figure its time to apologize for how mean i was."

and then nancy leaves. you stare at her, still in complete shock, as she approaches your brother. they exchange words, and you cant help but laugh at how shocked dustin looks as well. nancy takes his hands and marches him confidently through the crowd of preteens and places dustins hands around her waist and they begin to dance.

a few girls sneer at nancy and dustin, which you secretly preen at. serves them right for being little monsters towards your brother. you understand that being twelve is a horrid age, but dustin doesnt deserve their bitterness.

nancy says something that makes dustin bashful and he giggles. his tears have long since dried, and you watch them with fondness. a year ago you envied nancy wheeler and resented her beauty and grace. now, shes dancing with dustin and sending you a wink as he spins her around. time is weird, but youre immensely happy that you somehow ended up here.

you look around the gym. will is with a girl with a nervous smile on his face as they dance together. nancy and dustin are giggling to themselves. max and lucas are shy as they slow dance, and without meaning to, you watch as they have their first kiss. its a short, simple peck, and lucas blushes like crazy, and your heart soars.

somehow, within the five years youve known them, the kids grew up right before your eyes.

then you see mike, and you do a double take when you see that hes with el. shes in a beautiful dress, her hair is done, and she even seems to have some makeup on. you look behind you and see hopper standing outside in the parking lot, smoking a cigarette with joyce, and the two of them share their own laugh. its been a while since you last saw joyce smile, same with the chief, and something warm fills within you. love is weird, and you couldnt be happier that the ones closest to you get to experience it.

as your eyes roam the room, they somehow find jonathans. they always find jonathan.

he points to nancy and dustin and shakes his head, laughing. he knows that your brother will hold this over his head for the next week, but hes happy the kid is having a good night. you giggle, knowing what hes thinking, and shrug your shoulders. itll be a problem for jonathan tomorrow, but tonight you both watch as the girl and young boy dance the night away. both your hearts are warm, each of you feel a deep love for the girl in this moment, and you both marvel at how lovely nancy wheeler is.

as you watch, something tugs at your chest and begs you to turn around. you do, and see steves car slowly driving away from the middle school.

your lips tingle, still feeling his cheek against them. your skin will never forget the feel of his. your promise still lingers on your tongue.

take all the time you need.

time is weird.

so is love.

and youre all the luckier for it.

[bettyfrommars]

A wee game I thought would be fun: choose an excerpt from one of your posted fics, 600 words or less, that will make people curious for more. Share it with the title of your fic and little to no context.

I thought this would be a way to let people have a "taste" of one of your longer fics or series, and hopefully they will want to investigate further. Tagging some people, but it's open to anyone. I'd love to see snippets of your stuff.

This is a bit from my vampire Eddie fic Death Becomes Us. Eddie isn't even in this excerpt, I just really miss Hopper and wanted to think about him.

18+MDNI, Jim Hopper, mention of vampire!Joyce, mention of addiction

Tangerine hues seeped through the slats in the blinds at the crack of dawn while Jim Hopper sat at the end of his bed, shirtless, in a pair of unbuttoned jeans, and rolled his neck from side to side. There were empty beer cans on the dresser, and a small glass vile of crimson liquid in the ashtray next to a smashed-out butt with lipstick on it. He groaned as he stood, feeling his age as he fastened his jeans, snatching the pack of cigarettes off the bedside table as he went.

“Age is just a number,” is something Joyce would say, and to that he would reply: “Yeah, well why do I feel so fucking old, then?”

Joyce Byers hadn’t aged in a decade; that’s the one gift vampirism bestowed upon its victims. Being immortal? Living forever? Jim couldn’t imagine a worse fate. If someone turned him against his will, he’d give himself over to the sun and turn to ash immediately.

Joyce had chosen the vampire life, though, and for that—a part of him would never be able to forgive her. Sure, their fling was long over, and she’d been with Bob for a while now, but he used to be able to daydream about growing old with her later in life, and now he couldn’t even do that.

Something fell out of his pocket while he was searching for his lighter and he cursed. It was another small glass vial, but this one was almost empty, and he held his cigarette between his teeth as he bent to catch it before it rolled under the bed. Picking up the vial, he regarded it between thumb and forefinger so he could get a good look at how many drops were left.

God, he hated this about himself. He hated the way he measured the days of his week around how much he had left in the vials. Every morning, he promised himself that he’d quit, as soon as work wasn’t so stressful and he had some time to himself to stomach the withdrawals.

The kitchen was cold, and it sent a pang through his heart, making him wish there was someone there to make a pot of coffee and sit with him for a few minutes before he left for work. He’d give anything to hear bacon sizzling in the pan and smell fresh squeezed orange juice again while cartoons played on the television, but those days were long gone.

Emotions rose in his throat and choked there, making him dig for the vial in his pocket. He knew there was another full one in the ashtray in his bedroom, but he had to make them both last until next week, and it already wasn’t looking good. He tore a tiny corner off of a paper towel, and then bent to unscrew the cap and tap two drops onto the paper, watching the dark red liquid bleed into the fibers. He then placed the square of paper on his tongue and let it dissolve with a hard swallow and some sink water to wash it down.

Tagging: @somnambulic-thing @deadboyfriendd @kookygranger @trashmouth-richie @atinylittlepain @joejoequinnquinn @powderblueblood@destroya2005 @eddies-house @eddiesxangel @thornsnvultures

[the-kr8tor]

KWKFKQKVKWIOVRO

Katy, i just thought of something fucking adorable and I can't stop thinking about it.

R with a cop dad and Hobie. Hobie during high school, (being a little judgey etc back then, just a li'l) didn't think he'd like R and all that, he thought her dad was probably like the stereotypical corrupted pig. That was until being being assigned a project during freshmen and Hobie went over to R's and that's literally how they became friends cuz they hit it off pretty well. (R's dads and Hobie's dynamic is kinda like how it's with Miles' dad and Miles as Spider-man. Emphasis on the kinda.)

As senior high school, they're very close 'friends' who fucking flirt all the time and make out in the back of R's dads cop car but that's not the point.

The two partners in crime tend to sneak out of class together n shit. Steal a cigarette pack from some the store, (sometimes alcohol aswell cuz y'know, teenagers🤷‍♂️.) One distracts, the other pickpockets and sneaks out and then hide under the stairs or in the janitors closet later on, share a cigarette and stuff, and also the cigarette kiss aswell. (I could go into details but I'll keep it pg) I just... THINKING ABOUT IT IS MAKING ME NUTS. This reminded me a little of Hopper and Joyce from strangers thing but anyways.

They also always go into detention together when they do get caught with the cigarettes n stuff. Another thing is if R got detention, Hobie's gonna do something aswell to get detention and vice versa.

Idk I'm obsessed for some reason, bye

AHHHHH I LOVE THIS!

Hobie is so brave for making out with R in their dad's cop car lmaooo

And r is just as crazy as him! I love them already 💕

[pinkeoni]

Since AO3 is down until who knows when, I wanted to reupload my favorite fic that I’ve written in a second location— Mike Wheeler Hates Cigarettes

Written depiction of smoking under the cut

“Those things will fuck up your lungs, you know.”

Mike Wheeler stood on the roof of Hawkins High School. His arms clung to his side, a slight shiver in his body from the brisk autumn air that was slowly turning into a winter chill.

A few feet in front of him stood Will Byers, looking out at what was left of their small Indiana town. The “earthquake,” as the townspeople called it, left the town in ruin.

“The world ended, and they’re still making us go to school?”

But Will came up here less for the view and more for the space. No one else was ever on the roof.

No one else except Mike.

Will turned his head back towards his best friend, slowly revealing the Marlboro Red that was carefully perched between his lips. He smiled at him. He took the cigarette out of his mouth and blew smoke out like a dragon.

Mike walked up to him as Will pulled out the half-empty pack of Marlboros from his pocket. He took a good looking one in his fingers.

Mike parted his lips, and Will ever so carefully placed the cigarette in between them.

This was Mike’s favorite part of the routine.

Will always got very close to do this. Sometimes his fingers would gently brush past Mike’s lips, and Mike held on to moments like this as long as he could. He knew it was the closest he would ever get to actually kissing him.

Will pulled a zippo lighter from his pocket and flicked it open, a sudden spark of fire in between the two boys. When Will would light Mike’s cigarette, they might briefly share eye contact, and for a split second Mike would think “Wait, does he also…?” before quickly resigning the thought.

To tell you the truth, Mike Wheeler hates cigarettes.

He hates the way they taste. He hates the way they smell. He hates that the smell would stay on his clothes for the rest of the day, leading to an inevitable scolding from his father. He hates the burning sensation that it made him feel in his chest.

But he loved being up here with Will.

He loved standing up there, just the two of them, in the peace and quiet of the open air. He loved that he could talk about anything up here, or he could talk about nothing.

And he loved watching Will smoke. He loved watching him purse his lips around a Marlboro to take take a long and slow drag, before leaning his head back and letting the smoke billow out of his mouth. It was a show worth pretending to like cigarettes for.

Mike remembers the first time he ever saw him smoke. It was right after Will had been attacked by One. Mike remembers looking out onto Hopper’s front porch as Joyce rubbed Will’s back. He couldn’t hear what they were saying though. A little bit later Joyce came inside, and Mike looked out to Will leaning over the side of the porch, dragging one of Hopper’s Marlboros. “Did you pick that up in California?” is what he asked Will when he walked back in. Will only responded with a half smile.

Mike took a quick drag of his cigarette and blew it out, not wanting to keep the toxic smoke in him for too long. To be honest, he wasn’t even addicted. This could easily be his last cigarette. But the same couldn’t be said for Will. So this was definitely not Mike’s last smoke break.

“I had another nightmare.” Will finally spoke. He took another puff and didn’t elaborate further. Mike understood. Sometimes Will didn’t want to go into details about that kind of thing, he just wanted to express that it happened. If Will wanted to talk about it further, he would have.

But Mike knew exactly what Will was talking about. His nightmare was about One. One was dormant, that’s what Will told everyone. Nonetheless, Will couldn’t shake the hold his tormentor had on him. All he could do was smoke cigarettes.

Mike wished there was more he could do. He wished he could kill One himself. The older kids sometimes went on hunting missions to the Upside Down with no luck— he was nowhere to be found. Mike wish he could go inside Will’s brain himself then, and squash all of the nightmares and bad feelings caused by One. He wish he could throw his arms around him and tell him that everything was going to be okay, that he was always going to be right there for him, that they were going to fix it together. But he also knew that Will didn’t like to be coddled.

So he smoked cigarettes instead.

[fluffansmut-old]

Like you haven’t done that

Part 3

Summary: After you and Jonathan leave with your partners, doubt creeps into Joyces mind and she start to wonder if the choices she made were right, she calls up hopper for reassurance.

Content warnings: Byers!reader (only mentioned in this part though), mentions of sexual activity, self doubt, mentions of periods, sweet fluff

Word count: 973

AO3 | masterlist

Part 1 - Part 2

When Joyce heard the car pull out of the driveway, her children and their significant others inside, she thought about the speech she had given.

Was she too strict? Or was she the total opposite? Were her children about to go rogue and make irreversible mistakes, all while thinking they had her blessing?

All the doubt forming inside her got the upperhand and she felt like she was the worst mother in America.

She needed someone to talk to, some reassurance and a laugh.

So she picked up the phone in the hall, fingers dialing quickly.

“Hello Joyce” Hopper said, voice tired.

“Am I the worst parent ever?” she bluntly asked, not even bothering to say hi.

“Well if you are then join the fucking club” he said, unironicly.

“Did something happen with El?” Joyce asked, forgetting her own problems, now focused on helping Hopper.

“It's more a question of what didn’t happen with El…” the man said with a sigh. “She's been upside down and inside out all day long and I can't for the life of me figure out what’s going on?”

“Have you talked to her about it?” Joyce asked.

”I've tried, believe me, but she’s snappy and short with me.” he said, truly confused as to what happened to his girl. “all she wants to do is mope around in her room, she came out for dinner but there wasn’t much of a conversation there either”

“It’s hormones” Joyce said, having gone through it all before with her two eldest. “Trust me, she is feeling all the emotions on the register and she can't quite navigate or understand it herself, there isn't much to do than to have an insane amount of patients and try to talk to her, to reassure her that it's okay.”

“Huh” was Hopper's first response.

He hadn't really gotten into the mindset of raising a teenager yet. He still sometimes got aftersweats from that time late last year, when El woke him up screaming that something died in her bed. He hadn't known what to say nor what to do when he walked in on her with bloodstained sheets and pants to match. So Joyce and her experience, advice and never ending stash of pads had been the answer then too.

“You, knowing this, pretty much proves that you're not the worst parent ever” He then said, shifting the focus back to Joyce.

“It doesn´t feel that way, my eldest two are apperently having sex now, and it kinda annoys me that I didn´t know before hand.” The stress in her voice was so present, it almost felt like one could touch it. She took a shaky breath and Hopper almost wanted to jump through the phone to put a cigarette between her lips, to calm her a little. Before he could say anything she continued.

“ Like is my intuition slacking off? Was my sextalk too late? Am I only months away from sharing a grandchild with Karen Wheeler or Wayne Munson?”

The last question threw Hopper a little. Jonathan and Nancy were of course not a surprise, but at the mention of Munson he almost choked on his own spit.

Cos he knew Wayne, hell he had shared drinks with him more than a few times. He knew that he was an honest man, who fathered a child that originally wasn't supposed to be his. A role he and Hopper now shared. Hopper had a lot of good things to say about Wayne Munson.

That was also why he looked between his fingers, when he heard rumors about how Wayne's nephew was selling drugs on school property.

He knew very little about the younger munson, but he had seen him around town. And rumours spread quickly around Hawkins.

The kid looked intimidating. Almost scary even. Hopper knew that he was better than judging by looks, but in this case he couldn't help it and blurted out:

“Your girl is really sleeping with Munson's kid?”

He cared a great deal about Joyce and her kids, so for her daughter to be with someone of that reputation worried him a little.

“Hop, I’ve met him.” Joyce stated, she heard the weariness in his question. “and from what I know he’s a good kid, although life hasn’t been exactly kind to him”

Hopper wanted to take Joyce's word for it, but he was still weary, cos he knew things about Eddie Munson's father too.

To say he didn’t worry about if all those qualities that he possessed somehow genetically transferred to his son, was an understatement.

“I guess,” he muttered.Then he remembered the purpose of the call.

“You are doing a great job with them Joyce”

Those words made stray tears fall upon Joyce’s cheeks. This was essentially what she wanted to hear, it was what she worried about, daily. That she didn’t measure up, that the fact that her three kids didn’t have a father present would scar them in unimaginable ways.

“Thank you,” she said. “Do you want me to talk to El?”

Hopper thought about it, it would be convenient and calming to have someone else talk to her, but when push came to shove, she was his kid and he needed to be able to handle it.

“Thank you, but I’ll talk to her again myself,” he said. “You’ve inspired me.”

“I’m positive that you’ll do fine, you know it can’t be worse than what I’ve already been through tonight, and then you can totally manage” Joyce said.

“Please don’t remind me that there are worse things to come,” Hopper said with a groan. “If she ever comes in the future admitting that she wants to sleep with that wheeler kid then I don’t know what to”

“Send her to me” Joyce said, “I’ve got your back”

“And I got yours”

[steddie-fanfic-recs]

Honey in My Ears, Spice in My Mouth

by StarsHideYourFires

Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationship: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, minor Steve Harrington/Nancy Wheeler - Relationship Character: Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Nancy Wheeler, Jonathan Byers, Joyce Byers, Dustin Henderson, Maxine "Max" Mayfield, Lucas Sinclair, Will Byers, Billy Hargrove, Mike Wheeler, Robin Buckley, Eleven | Jane Hopper, Erica Sinclair, Wayne Munson, Sam Owens (Stranger Things), Chrissy Cunningham, Henry Creel | One | Vecna Additional Tags: Omega Verse, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Omega Steve Harrington, Alpha Eddie Munson, Alpha Nancy Wheeler, Omega Jonathan Byers, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Intersex Omegas, Steve Harrington Has Bad Parents, Angst, Billy Hargrove is His Own Warning, Canon-Typical Violence, Jim Hopper/Joyce Byers, Oral Sex, Vaginal Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Smut, Steve Harrington Has a Breeding Kink, Nipple Play, Caretaking, Panty Kink, Pack Dynamics, Pack Bonding, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fix-It, Mating Bites, Minor Robin Buckley/Chrissy Cunningham, Angst with a Happy Ending, Minor Jonathan Byers/Nancy Wheeler Words: 202,258 Chapters: 36/36

Summary

“Are you okay?” Eddie asks again, words drawn out to make sure Steve understands his question, but not like he’s stupid. Gentle understanding suffuses each word. “Yeah, I’ll be fine.” “Not what I asked.” Eddie steps closer, and Steve turns again, putting his back to the door. They stand next to each other, arms just inches from touching, and Steve exhales harshly. On his next inhale he catches the scent of leather and roses, covered over with cheap soap and cigarette smoke. “Do you wanna talk about it?” Eddie asks. “Not really…” Talking about it is the last thing Steve wants, but he also wants to keep standing in Eddie’s space and sharing his air. -- Being an omega changes the entire trajectory of what the Harrington’s expect for their son, Steve. Then interdimensional monsters change the trajectory of Steve’s own expectations, thrusting him into a confusing world of caring friends, pack pups, and government coverups. And a chance encounter at a party following the world’s most embarrassing drunken fight, puts him on an entirely new path towards an alpha he never would have seen otherwise.

[schrijverr]

Life Is Ours, We Live It Our Way 11

Chapter 11 out of 18

Genderqueer Stevie with platonic soulmates Robin and Eddie living their best queer life.

In this chapter, The entire party comes together to celebrate the new year. Sharing new years resolutions and parts about themselves. At the end, Stevie takes Eddie up on his offer.

On AO3.

Ships: none

Warning: misgendering that comes with not being out

~~~~~~~~~

The New Year

They don’t talk about it for the few days leading up to new years. Robin sadly has to go home for a few of them, but they see each other at work, while Stevie and Eddie learn each other’s behaviors and work around their work schedules.

Because it’s the holidays, Family Video is filled with customers, who want to make the most out of the couch weather.

Pretending to date Robin has some pros here, since Stevie hasn’t flirted with a girl in weeks. He likes flirting with girls – and maybe boys, though he can’t try that much – but with everything, dating in Hawkins has lost its flair. Besides, with all she’s learned about herself, she’s not to keen to dive into a relationship or bed with anyone. Eddie and Robin are more than enough.

Wednesday rolls around and with that the last day of 1986. It’s almost strange how much life can change in a year.

He’s lying in bed and looking at the ceiling. Eddie had woken up sometime during the night, but they managed to fall asleep again after sharing a cup of tea and a cigarette. And now Eddie is peacefully asleep behind her. Warm breaths puff against her neck and his arms are heavy around her waist. He’s warm and comfortable in bed.

She used to be a morning person. She used to get out of bed and run to train for sports and just to get out of that house, honestly. Now he still wakes up early, he doesn’t think he’ll be able to get rid of that habit, but he doesn’t get out of bed.

The alarm for Eddie’s early morning shift is bound to to go if in half an hour and Stevie could stay in bed after, because she doesn’t have a shift until the afternoon. However, she knows the bed won’t be as comfortable alone.

Stevie hates being alone.

And he hasn’t really been alone since spring break when he shared a hospital room with Eddie in a government lab to check if they didn’t have weird inter-dimensional rabies. It’s truly strange what can bring people together.

His new years resolution is to take more risks, emotional risks. He wants to come out to Joyce and Hopper, maybe even tell her family about her gender. She wants to say yes to Eddie’s offer. Wants to take evenings to doll up for no one but the people home with her. Wants to ask Max and El to paint his nails. Wants to play Lady Stevie in DnD.

It’s exciting, but also a little terrifying, so Stevie hides in the warm bed with Eddie for twenty more minutes, away from the world.

Then she extracts herself from his warm arms, laughing at how he whines and buries his face into the pillow as he rolls onto the warm spot Stevie just left. The house is still cold, so he puts on one of the sweaters on the chair in the corner – he thinks it’s Robin’s, but doesn’t know for sure – and starts some coffee.

Ten minutes later she hears the alarm, followed my an angry grunt and then stumbling. Eddie is a loud person, even when he’s not saying anything, so it’s easy to follow his journey out of bed and into clothes before he’s even shown his face.

When he comes out of their room, he’s in a black shirt that hides the stains, though they’re obvious on his overalls that are tied around his waist and he is putting his hair up in a ponytail while he walks.

“Coffee!” he exclaims, making grabby hands at the mug, sighing into the heat: “Stevie, you are my hero.”

“Yeah, yeah, you only love me for my morning person-ness,” Stevie grins.

“I would never,” Eddie gasps dramatically. “I love for far more than your morning person-ness and your ability to make coffee! I also love you for your hogging of the water, for your clothes taking over the closet and for your complaining about my socks.”

“Your socks are annoying,” Stevie protests, but he’s laughing too. All the things Eddie has named are things he might do, but when Eddie says them, they don’t sound like grievances. Just friendly teasing.

“My socks are a delight,” Eddie protests.

“Dude,” Stevie raises a brow, before shaking her head. “Just drink your damn coffee, it’s obvious too early for you to be thinking.”

“Rude,” Eddie mutters, but drinks his coffee and eats his breakfast, thanking Stevie genuinely for it, before racing out the door to get to work.

She spends the rest of the morning doing the dishes, cleaning up the house and luxuriating in the shower for a change. Then he gets dressed and goes to Family Video, where he has to brave the holiday crowd with Keith, no Robin in sight today.

Once freed from the horrors of haggard moms and annoying teens, Stevie flees home to freshen up before they go to the Byers house, where Joyce and Hopper are hosting the party for new years so that they can go into 1987 together.

Eddie is already home, showered and clean and folding their first batch of laundry in their new home. He grins at Stevie when he enters and asks about his day and how long he’ll take to get ready for the party.

It’s grossly domestic and Stevie wants to live in it forever. He’s giddy as he goes through his routine, because he does get to live in it forever. Eddie, Robin, her, they’re going to be forever. They are going to be grossly domestic and have a quiet – well not quiet with the rascals but a peaceful – life.

Stevie can sink into the softness that has always brewed under the surface of his skin, something she ignored for most of her life to be whoever everyone needed her to be. She gets to plan nights for himself and play nerdy games and cook for Eddie and Robin. He gets to do the things he wants to do and he has never been more happy that her parents are gone.

They pick up Robin on the way to the party. Stevie is driving and she pushes Eddie to the backseat, claiming her girlfriend privilege that she has been milking ever since she first heard the phrase. It’s a bit harder with Eddie, who knows her privileges are nonsense, but he relents under the watchful eyes of Mrs. Buckley, though he complains the whole way there.

Not everyone is there yet, but they’ve been invited for dinner. Nancy is there too with Jonathan and it’s always a little weird between them, but then Will and El come running up, excitedly babbling about the campfire Hopper promised to light later as Eddie and Stevie twirl them up into hugs. He and Jonathan never truly saw eye to eye, but they can agree on being there for the two kids.

During dinner they hear more about how college is and Robin gets excited about it, while Eddie and Stevie share a look of agreement; college has never been for them. Certainly not now.

The evening is filled with laughter and it’s nice to watch as Will excitedly talks to Eddie about the campaign, while El and Nancy talk about fashion and Jonathan has dragged Robin into a stupid discussion about movies, citing a call with Argyle as a valid source, which Robin naturally contests with vigor. Hopper and Joyce are murmuring at the head of the table, Stevie is sitting on the other end.

He doesn’t really care that he isn’t part of a conversation right now. She likes sitting there and watching the people she loves, surrounded by their chatter. It’s perfect. Nice.

After dinner, Stevie goes to pick up the kids in Nancy’s car so he can squeeze them all in. All of them are on their curbs waiting, excited for tonight. The car ride is so so loud. They’re arguing about the best way to toast a marshmallow and Stevie is 90% sure Max is just throwing opinions out there to stir the pot and by god is it working.

They practically run inside the house when they get there to meet their friends. Stevie watches as Mike hugs Will tightly first, before El, taking her hand. Mostly he sees how Will smiles at the gesture.

It’s still a few hours to midnight and the kids have convinced everyone to rent a movie. It’s a movie Stevie doesn’t really follow. Her head hurts, so she takes off her glasses and closes her eyes, resting on Eddie’s shoulder, while hugging Robin in his lap, dozing throughout the movie.

No one makes fun of her for being an old man – Stevie giving Robin his glasses is a sign for his two soulmates to keep the gremlins off his back – and she’s glad for it. She wants tonight to be fun and not think about his plans for the coming year.

His head feels better when the movie is done and he offers to wash the dishes, which is denied by Joyce as she puts Jonathan and Nancy on it.

Hopper is setting up outside, which means all the kids run after him in excitement and, because Eddie is also a kid at heart, he follows the horde outside as well. Robin asks if he’s okay and he smiles and nods: “Never better.”

Then Joyce calls out: “I’m so sorry to interrupt the moment, but I need an extra hand setting up for the sleepover for the kids.”

Stevie is about to offer her help when Robin jumps in to do it, giving him his glasses and sending him a look that says ‘rest for a bit, dingus,’ to which he rolls his eyes, though he doesn’t dispute it as he gives himself a moment to sink into the couch.

Her peace is broken by Dustin, who sits on the couch next to her tentatively. He is being quieter than normal, which Stevie appreciates. She slides on her glasses and asks: “What’s up, Henderson?”

“Are you okay?” Dustin asks in turn. “You were kind of dozing and it looked peaceful, but I know you get headaches sometimes, so I want to make sure.”

“My headaches have been fine,” Stevie assures him, not even lying. “I’ve been sleeping okay and everything, I just needed to rest for a bit.”

“Okay,” Dustin says, smiling, before turning serious again. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” Stevie immediately says. “Is something wrong?”

“No, nothing’s wrong, I just wanted advice on something,” Dustin assures her. “My new years resolution is to be a better friend for Will, like be supportive. Also be more supportive in general, of course. So, I was wondering if you could tell me what I could do, you know?”

“Oi, you’re not doing it for me and Eddie?” Stevie retorts, hiding how touched he is that that is Dustin’s resolution.

“Because the people I’d ask would be you or Eddie and that felt weird,” Dustin defends himself. “I already read stuff, but there isn’t much to find here, so you have to tell me.”

“You did?” Stevie asks, strangely touched by the image of Dustin doing research on queer stuff to support her and Eddie.

“Yeah, of course,” Dustin shrugs, like it’s obvious that he would.

“Oh.”

“So, advice?”

“Well, I’d say it’s most important to be open minded,” Stevie tells him after a moment of contemplation. “You have internal biases, we all do, and things might happen where your gut instinct is bad, but you just have to work through that and not make it Will’s problem. That’s your own shit, not queer people’s. What else? Uhm, you should listen, be there if Will wants to talk, but don’t push him to talk. Also watch yourself.”

“Watch myself how?” Dustin asks and it sounds snipe-y, but Stevie knows it isn’t, because he knows Dustin and Dustin has been diligently nodding along.

“I mean, people who aren’t, you know, queer, sometimes don’t notice how comments can hurt, because they don’t realize they’re shitty,” Stevie says, thinking both of her own misgivings and the man comments directed at him. “You obviously aren’t going around calling people slurs, but some jokes make assumptions and shit. So, kind of watch it. You can’t really help it the first time, but if you notice, you can always check in and apologize when it is something.”

Dustin nods and says: “That makes sense, like with the pushing for the girlfriend thing, right? Anything else?”

“Yeah, exactly. And for anything else, just defend him,” Stevie shrugs, because there isn’t much else he can think off now. “High school is fucking ruthless, dude. Bullies can sniff this sort of shit out. If they make comments, don’t out him, but defend him. Tell them to fuck off if it doesn’t put you in danger, make sure Will knows those assholes are wrong and you love and accept him. There isn’t much more you can do.”

“Okay, yeah, I can do that,” Dustin tells her, before grinning: “Thanks so much, Steve. It’s really appreciated.”

“No problem,” Stevie smiles, hugging Dustin back when the kid falls over him. He’s getting bigger, growing up with the others and it’s amazing and a little terrifying to see the hellions turn into adult people right in front of her eyes.

“Still, thanks,” Dustin repeats, letting go, before halting and asking: “Did I- Did I ever say something that made you uncomfortable that I need to work on? Other than being pushy about you and Robin,” for once not pointing out that he was ‘right’ about it.

Stevie freezes for a second. If she is brave, this will be a perfect moment to mention something about her gender, but she has only just decided that she will at some point and this isn’t about that, so he stays silent and wracks his brain for anything else he can say, because Dustin is observant enough to notice him freezing and himself enough to keep pushing until he knows.

“Uhm, I mean, I- I guess,” Stevie stumbles, “I guess, the assuming that I’m always flirting with everyone, but that was before Robs. You know the pushing me with all the girls.”

“I won’t do that anymore then,” Dustin nods very seriously and Stevie can’t believe how far this kid has come from the twelve year old at the Wheeler house.

“Thanks, dude,” Stevie smiles, before realizing she also still does the gendered terms of endearment thing. So, he adds: “You can also tell me if I say anything that bother you, okay? Don’t worry about me thinking it’s weird. I will never, never judge you or love you less.”

Dustin studies his face curiously for a second then smiles and nods: “I will.”

“Good,” Stevie smiles back, before getting up and clapping his hands. “Now lets go check if the others haven’t overrun Hopper and burned down the garden.”

That makes Dustin laugh and they join the crew there. No one has been burned, which is good, but Eddie has been overrun in the sense that he is on the back in the snow with Max and El perched on top of him, grinning evilly as he whines for them to let him go.

“And what has this criminal done to deserve captivity?” Stevie asks the two girls with an amused grin as she looks down on Eddie.

“Stevie, sweetheart, come save me from these menaces,” Eddie pleads, though he is also grinning and doesn’t look that upset, mostly like he just wants to be dramatic.

“I don’t know,” Stevie teases, turning to Max and El: “What has he done?”

El looks for Max, always content to follow the other girl, while Max answers: “He has committed many heinous crimes, like eating a few of the marshmallows before everyone could gather.”

“That is a very serious crime,” Stevie agrees, El nodding sagely. “I’m sorry, Eds, but I don’t think I can get you released.”

Eddie pouts: “You’re not even going to try?”

“And take my chances against Max and El?” Stevie laughs. “Yeah, I value my life too much to not confront them.”

That has both Max and El grinning victoriously at their victim, who gets a mischievous twinkle in his eyes as he offers: “You can try and break me out secretly, no confrontation necessary. We can be stealthy like ninjas. I’ll make it worth your while, princess.”

“How will you do that?” Stevie laughs, already planning to intervene shortly so Eddie doesn’t get hypothermia, but curious to see what Eddie will offer.

“I’ll shovel the driveway,” Eddie says.

“We don’t have a drive way,” Stevie points out, rolling his eyes.

At that Max rolls her eyes and says: “God, you two are truly becoming boring adults. Come on, El, lets go annoy the others. Eddie has a babysitter now. Help me up, please.”

El gets up and helps Max upright when she holds her hands out to El. El is one of the few people Max doesn’t mind asking help from (usually given without being asked like this, because it’s still hard for Max), though she’s getting better. Through her thick glasses she must see Stevie’s fond look, because she gruffly says: “Stop looking at me like that. It’s my resolution to ask for help more.”

“That’s a good resolution,” Stevie tells her sincerely.

“Whatever,” she rolls her eyes, accepting the crutches El has gotten from the ground, but there is a light blush as she waves the compliment away.

When they’re gone it’s quiet for a moment, then Eddie asks: “Am I really becoming a boring adult, Stevie? I can’t be a boring adult.”

Stevie laughs at his distraught tone and hoists him upright back to his feet as he says: “Stop being such a drama queen.”

“What is Eddie being a drama queen about now?” Robin asks as she jumps on Stevie’s back and it’s only Stevie’s impeccable balance and six sense he has developed for Robin that ensures that he doesn’t drop or attack her when she does.

“You say that like I’m dramatic about everything,” Eddie whines. Robin and Stevie share a look, before bursting out in laughter, which makes Eddie pout more and them laugh harder. In the end Eddie does join in and they’re all laughing when they get called to the campfire where everyone is seated.

There’s laughter all around them as they look back on ‘86 (with Eddie naturally claiming and regaling how it was obviously his year) as well as just go through old memories.

They roast marshmallows too. Hopper sucks at it, much to the delight of all the kids, but especially Max and Will, who are somehow perfect at it (though it must be genetic because Joyce and Jonathan also consistently have good ones).

Jonathan shares his with Nancy in a disgustingly cute display of affection that Stevie wants to roll his eyes at until he sees Joyce do the same with Hopper, Lucas and Mike clumsily copying. Though Max laughs at Lucas and shares her good ones and Will caves at Mike’s and El’s combined eyes and shares his.

Stevie is fucking shit at it too, as it appears that her cooking skills do not extend to open fire, so her brief attempt to cover for him and Robin as dating is foiled by it.

Naturally Dustin notices and slips him one of his marshmallows, because he’s managing just fine and steadily working as much marshmallows into his mouth as he can. It’s funny how content he is in the middle of it all. Likely because he called Suzie earlier and they’re set to call each other again tomorrow.

She takes his not so sneaky marshmallow and turns to Robin, wiggling his eyebrows in a dramatic way that has her snorting, before feeding her the marshmallow. It’s fucking stupid, but they’re giggling anyway.

Robin whispers: “That’s probably the only good marshmallow I’m going to have this night. We both suck again.”

“We’re still useless together, aren’t we,” Stevie grins. “I was hoping to mooch of yours, but I should have guessed you wouldn't even be able to roast a marshmallow.”

“Rude,” Robin protests. “It’s not like you can do it either.”

“You two just don’t have the technique,” Eddie interrupts their squabbling, holding up a perfectly roasted marshmallow.

“How did you do that?” Stevie asks, unable to not sound as impressed as she is.

“I am the king of marshmallows,” Eddie proclaims.

“And how can we humble peasants get in on your marshmallow action, king Eddie?” Robin asks, plating into his dramatics for her own gain AKA getting good marshmallows.

Eddie pretends to contemplate for a second, before grinning: “You can trade your future for them. A life of me, for some marshmallows now.”

“You drive a hard bargain, Munson,” Stevie informs him, plucking the next marshmallow from Eddie’s hands, because they have already agreed on that anyway, so he doesn’t mind playing into Eddie’s dramatics to let him have his fun.

“Mayhaps, but the devil is not known for easy deals,” Eddie shrugs, grin still in place.

“Oh and you’re the devil now are you?” Stevie raises a brow.

“Yeah, I don’t really see it,” Robin immediately jumps on the tease Eddie train. “I mean, the king was already hard to see, but devil? He’s too sweet for that.”

“Uhm, excuse you, I am a very metal rocker, not at all sweet!” Eddie protests, his expressive face morphing entirely to show his petulant displeasure.

“Nope, Robbie’s right,” Stevie shrugs in a ‘I don’t make the rules’-manner. “Total cutie.”

“I hate you both,” Eddie says.

“Whatever, Munson, go make our marshmallows,” Robin smirks, clapping Eddie on the back as Stevie nods cheekily besides her.

Eddie grumbles something about disrespect and his image, but does roast the marshmallows for the three of them.

Midnight draws ever closer, so the radio gets dragged outside to ensure they can hear the countdown and glasses for a toast are filled. It’s just sprite for everyone. Sure, they could drink, but there was beer and wine at the dinner and it’s not really about drinking. It’s not about appearances, just having a fun toast together.

Dustin pouts: “Me, Will and Eddie won’t have anyone to kiss at midnight. That feels kind of rude, everyone better toast then kiss.”

“Yeah, yeah, just shut up, Dustin,” Mike rolls his eyes a bit meanly, but with what Stevie has seen of the kid, she’s sure that he’ll toast first.

“We can do a new years high five,” Eddie placates them. “It’ll be just as cool.” While next to him, Robin and Stevie are realizing that they have to kiss to keep up their charade.

Robin has wide eyes and Stevie mentally tries to communicate if she wants to do it, because he can fake something to get her out of it. Robin thankfully catches onto his mind vibes, because she sighs and shrugs.

He thinks she’s fine, but to be sure he leans in like he’s whispering something cute and asks: “You good with that, because I can just have a fit or something.”

“I’m good, dingus. Thanks,” Robin replies. “Just be quick about it. And if I feel your tongue I’m picking Eddie’s side in every argument for months.”

“Dude, I’m not shoving my tongue down your throat. Gross,” Stevie wrinkles her nose.

Then the radio announces that they’re almost there and they pull apart so that they can count down with the rest of them. The fourteen of them standing in a circle as 1986 slips away from them in a matter of seconds.

“HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!”

They all cheer and toast, making sure to look each other in the eyes as they do, grinning. Then Stevie kisses Robin on the mouth. It’s more a peck, quick and practically friendly. Maybe a bit different from what Nancy and Jonathan are doing or Joyce and Hopper, but not too out of place among the kids.

Next to them, Eddie is dramatically high fiving Will and Dustin, rambling some monologue about the bonds of fellowship binding them in special ways and how the high five encompasses so much more than the kisses that are shared.

They all smile at each other, happiness and mild disbelief that they’re truly here, because just like that it’s 1987.

It’s thrilling exciting and the kids are yelling about it, Eddie joining in, which means Stevie also allows himself to join in. They don’t have fireworks after Starcourt, however, they’re making up for the noise themselves.

After celebrating they fall quiet, all sitting down and sipping their drink when Joyce asks if anyone has any resolutions, adding that no one is required to share. “Here, I’ll start,” she says. “My resolution is to cook more. I like doing it and we have the means to get nice groceries, so I want to do it more. Get better at it.”

That’s a nice resolution and they all tell her so.Stevie hoping that with practice her food will become more edible. Though he doesn’t have high hopes, if years of cooking haven’t improved them yet, she doesn’t see it happening now.

Nancy is next telling them about wanting to have a social life and pass all her courses and Jonathan saying he hasn’t really thought about resolution, but he has the same one, along with keeping in contact with Argyle.

With the three admissions the ice is broken and the kids are also telling them their resolutions, which mostly aren’t that deep, but that’s not the point of resolutions anyway.

Lucas wants to make the cross country team and keep a regular training schedule, so Stevie offers to go running once a week together. That earns the two a round of eyes of the nerdier part of the group as if they can’t believe anyone would willingly go running with Lucas, but the kid himself seems grateful for it.

El wants to learn more cooking and read more and hang out with her friends more now that they’re all in the same town, Erica just wants to get to high school and hasn’t thought much about resolutions, while Mike also says he doesn’t have any.

Dustin tells them his support Will resolution and Mike jumps on it, which makes Will blush and duck into himself with a big grin, as he confesses that he wants to grow into himself, so that that’s nice. Both resolutions get smiles.

When they turn to Max, she mutters that resolutions are stupid, before repeating what she told Stevie earlier, threatening anyone who wants to say something about it. So they don’t, but pride is clear in all their eyes.

Eddie – sweet, good with the kids, Eddie – gets the attention she doesn’t want off her by then loudly saying: “I just wanna get back into music, write more of my own stuff, maybe find others to play again.”

After the whole debacle of spring break Corroded Coffin kind of fell apart. Eddie graduated, but never got back into contact with his old band, half of which was now off to college and the last remaining member in Hawkins banned by his mother from seeing Eddie.

Stevie feels bad for him, she knows how much he loves music and that he wants to be a star. She has seen him pull out his guitar multiple times in the little time they’ve already lived together and she knows it was important in his recovery, mentally and physically.

“We better get back stage passes if you ever get famous,” Stevie smiles, bumping shoulders with Eddie, who grins at the comment.

“Yeah,” Robin immediately joins in. “And if you need like a sick trumpet beat in the background, find me.”

Eddie dies laughing, between snorts managing: “I don’t think sick trumpet beats and metal go together, Robbie.”

Which makes Robin pout and say: “You don’t know that. One day you might come crawling back to me for my trumpet beats and you know what, Eds? You won’t get them.”

“Oh no the horror,” Eddie gasps dramatically. “How can I ever make it up you, fair maiden of the trumpets.”

“You’re a fucking idiot,” Stevie informs him, while Robin goes up into the dramatics by proclaiming: “You may win back my favor by making me heated chocolate beverages whenever I desire.”

“Heated chocolate beverages?” Eddie repeats, too amused by the take on the word hot chocolate to continue his bullshit.

“Yeah, Stevie swore that you made magical hot chocolate and it’s honestly quite rude that you’ve been keeping out on me with that. I love sweets, you know that. I deserve to be in the know about magical hot chocolate,” Robin whines.

Stevie blushes a little at her words. He’d told Robin about the hot chocolate when she asked if he was okay the first time they had a shift together after his short escape to the city. She couldn't very well tell Robin about the maybe BDSM dynamic she and Eddie had going on, but she did want to give the man some credit. And to be fair, the hot chocolate was really good.

However, with Eddie quirking a brow at him, she ducks her head: “What? It was good.”

That is luckily enough for Eddie, who grins: “I accept your peace offer, Robbie. I’ll make us hot chocolate later when we get home.”

The statement has all the kids jumping in complaining that they also want to try Eddie’s hot chocolate and that he’s mean for keeping it from them and only sharing it with Stevie now that they’ve moved in.

“Not cool, dude,” Dustin complains. “It goes against the bro code or some shit.”

“Yeah,” Lucas backs him. “Party before roomie.”

“Party before roomie,” Eddie cackles as he repeats Lucas clumsy remake of ‘pals before gals’ then gives in and promises them all hot chocolate next Friday during DnD night, which cheers them up again.

They fall quiet for a moment, before Dustin says: “We never heard you guys’ new years resolution,” directing the comment at Stevie and Robin.

Robin shrugs and says: “Not that exciting, just going to try and get into a college, you know.”

“Really? Not relationship milestones?” Dustin asks.

“Dude,” Stevie frowns, raising a brow at him. “We’ve been together for a shorter time than you and Suzie and you don’t see me asking that.”

“Yeah, but you’re old,” Dusting counters with a shrug.

Next to her, Eddie laughs and Stevie elbows him with a glare, while Robin groans: “God, you’re worse than some of my conservative aunts!”

Dustin seems to realize what he’s saying and ducks his head sheepishly. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright,” Stevie says, “good that you caught yourself there.”

At that Dustin smiles, before Joyce asks: “And what about you, Steve? Any new years resolutions for 1987?”

“To take more risks,” he shrugs, not minding to share, though few of them will know the extend of what that will mean to her.

The reaction to the statement is immediate, with the whole party yelling things like: “Don’t do that, the fuck! Why would that be your resolution?” and “Trust me, buddy. I don’t think you need more risk in your life,” and “Are you stupid?” and so forth, their voices overlapping.

And Stevie realizes how that can be taken, especially when both Eddie and Robin give him looks that scream ‘what the fuck?’

“Oh, no, not like that,” she interrupts them all, luckily they fall silent, curious about her explanation on the resolution. “I mean, take more emotional risks.”

“Emotional risks?” Nancy asks for clarification and Stevie can see more people looking confused about the statement. He hadn’t thought it would be that confusing, but apparently it is.

The question is also an opportunity now that they’re all together, which means she’ll have all the backup in the kids and his friends, so he answers: “You be more open about stuff. Like, for example, Nance, Jonathan, Hopper, Joyce.” The four look at her in confusion, but pay attention. “I am bisexual. I like men and women.”

It’s quiet and Stevie can feel himself tense as the faces around him morph into surprise.

Luckily, Joyce is there and she breaks the quiet with a wide grin as she comes over to hug him and thank him for trusting them with it. Stevie can see in her eyes that she now realizes why Will called Stevie when he came out and what she might have said to make him more confident in himself and his sexuality.

Hopper is also fast to give his gruff approval, the high of that acceptance not at all dimmed by the ‘son’ he used for Stevie.

Jonathan has lost the tenseness he used to carry in high school and Stevie knows he was there when Will came out and is cool with that. Indeed, Jonathan just gives her a thumbs up and a smile. That leaves just Nancy, who didn’t know yet.

Nancy is the only wild card here. No one has come out to her as far as Stevie knows. And he desperately hopes that she’s cool, so that if Mike thinks there is something he can go to his sister, that if she ends up with Jonathan permanently Will can be himself during family gatherings where she’s at too. But if she isn’t cool, he’s glad it’s him who will go under the bus for it.

Still, she can’t help but find Nancy’s eyes and hope that she can convey that she desperately needs her to say something right now.

When she stays quiet, he prompts: “Nance?”

“Oh, uhm, sorry, just-” Nancy stumbles over her words. She never stumbles over her words and it makes him more nervous than anything. The whole group is holding their breath, some glaring at her as they wait for her to continue. She explains: “I’m just surprised. You never really seemed like the type…”

Stevie sighs and says: “I know who I was, Nance. Trust me, my ‘84 resolution was already be less of a dick. Can’t really keep recycling that one.”

“And you can’t see who’s gay and who isn’t by looks,” Dustin defends Stevie.

He smiles at the kid, who is taking his own resolution very seriously. Subtly patting Robin’s thigh, feeling how she tensed when Nancy said that, wanting to defend Stevie, but being afraid of people thinking something about it.

“I- I know that,” Nancy quickly defends. “Sorry. It just surprised me, but it’s fine. I’m totally okay with it. It’s okay. I just had to process, sorry.”

It seems like the whole group lets out a collective breath at the words and Stevie smiles: “Thanks and it’s okay.” He is sure Eddie or Robin is dying to say something about her needing to stop saying it’s okay when she doesn’t have to be okay with it, but she just wants to move on and she knows neither of them are going to make a point out of it when it’s about coming out.

Indeed they leave it be and soon they all relax back into the atmosphere from before, until the kids start to flag.

Robin has helped Joyce set up a giant mattress floor for them in the living room and they all flop down on it once they’re done. It’s adorable to see them and when he sees Jonathan take a picture, he asks for a copy. They have a whole fridge to fill after all.

With the kids asleep, Stevie gets the presents she bought in the city. She sees Joyce’s look and explains: “I didn’t have time to get them something for Christmas with everything, so I thought it would be fun to surprise them now. You can tell them they’re from me, but it’s mostly just to have a fun start to the new year.”

Stevie has gotten all the DnD players a mini-making kit, since Eddie is planning to maybe start a new campaign when the current one comes to an end, giving everyone an opportunity to reinvent themselves.

He has also gotten them other stuff, next to that. Some quality pencils for Will, a good water bottle for Lucas, a shirt that would be considered metal for Mike (who obviously looks up to Eddie and wants to copy him), a higher level book about radios for Dustin and for Erica he found a collection of cute hair accessories that he won’t admit to being slightly jealous of.

For El she has gotten a collection of pretty things so that the girl can feel more like herself again with the hair still growing out, something she’s obviously still upset about. For Max she has gotten a few more music tapes, but also found a few tapes with books recorded on them as well as a copy of one of her favorites in a larger fond, so it’ll be easier on her eyes.

They get the gifts from the car and pile them on the kitchen table, so the kids can wake up to it in the morning.

She hands the adults their gifts normally and they unpack them on the back porch of the Byers house telling her, she shouldn’t have.

For Joyce he got some non-light Christmas decoration, since he knows the Byers love Christmas, but the lights are ruined for them. For Hopper he got one of the most comfortable sweaters he has ever had the pleasure of finding, knowing how much the man hates the cold after everything that has happened.

It felt a little odd to get Nancy and Jonathan something, like it has always done, but she found a book on the history of journalistic photography for Jonathan and a set of the good hard cover notepads for Nancy.

The whole group thanks her and she smiles, glad they’re enjoying his gifts to them. To Eddie, he explains his gift is still at home and Robin shows them all the bracelet, rambling about the plans she has for more charms.

They all sit there for a little while longer, before Joyce and Hopper get up to retire, claiming they’re getting too old for this. That prompts Nancy and Jonathan to get up too, since they’re sharing Jonathan’s room this night.

Stevie is driving Eddie and Robin home, not at all minding that the three of them can’t sleep over at the Byers house. They love everyone, but there is something thrilling about having their own spot and this way they can just share the bed without getting weird looks.

So, they all pile into Stevie’s car after a drawn out goodbye, before driving home.

Inside, they stumble to their room, shedding clothes and crawling into pajamas. Eddie and Stevie are already flopping down, but Robin bullies them into brushing their teeth, claiming they can’t go into the new year with bad dental hygiene.

But once the teeth are brushed, they collapse into the bed, glad the shops are closed tomorrow due to it being the new year.

Sleep is peaceful.

When Stevie wakes up, she’s surrounded by warmth. Eddie’s breath puffs against his back and Robin’s hand is solid in his. She can get used to waking up like this every day.

He’s the only one awake yet, but he doesn’t mind. It’s nice to be able to lie there for a moment and just soak in the fact that he has people who care, a family, people who want to stay around for her and wake up next to her every morning. People who love and accept her.

She lies there for about half an hour longer, just basking. His soulmates on either side of her and a fresh year in front of them. Hopefully one without Upside Down disasters or near deaths, but one of new memories and affection.

Then, he eases out from between them. Eddie whines sleepily when she breaks from his grip, but settles down when he pushes an extra pillow in his arms. Robin groans a bit when he climbs over her, then mumbles something before snuggling back into the bed.

Victoriously Stevie makes her way to the kitchen and makes the three of them breakfast, putting it all on a wooden plank left over from the cabinet they built. They wanted the bottom to have more space to put in some speakers, so there’s a shelve left over. It works just fine as a serving tray and right now it comes in handy.

He’s glad he left open the bedroom door, making it easier to maneuver through it without the risk of dropping everything.

“Rise and shine, dickheads,” she calls out, poking Robs with his foot, because he can’t sit down until she moves.

“Wha?” Robin asks tiredly, turning back and squinting at Stevie. “Is that…?”

“Breakfast, yes,” he nods. “And if you can get up, so I can get back into bed without spilling it over the sheets that would be appreciated. And wake Eds.”

She grins at those instructions and she feels a bit bad for Eddie when Robin crawls over and drapes herself over him as she exclaims: “Wake from slumber, you whore.”

“Huh?” Eddie grunts, fighting the sheets to get out from under Robin, before seeing Stevie and saying: “Holy shit. Breakfast! Nice.”

“Yeah, yeah, just make some room and take this from me,” Stevie rolls his eyes, but can’t stop the pleased smile.

“Why wasn’t I offered the tray?” Robin pouts.

“I’ve seen you trip over air and drop things that should practically be attached to your body, Robin,” he deadpans, making Eddie laugh so hard he has to wait with handing over the tray. But soon enough they’re all seated on the bed, backs to the headboard as they eat in bed.

It is mostly quiet, only broken by content noises and a few compliments to Stevie. Another calm morning wherein the day only comes in slowly. It’s not at all like he’s used to. No longer having to get up to train, to be better, to get into college, to make something of himself. Just nice.

They’re halfway through eating when Robin prompts: “So, more emotional risks, Stevie? Is there something in particular you’re planning?”

Stevie bites her lip shyly and shrugs, then answers: “I mean, I- I was kind of planning on playing Lady Stevie when this campaign ends and we get to make new characters if we want. Not like coming out or something, but maybe feeling out the vibe. It’s a while away still, I think. We’re not all that far with the clues and I mean, I don’t know for certain yet. But yeah, that.”

“Ah, I’m so proud of you,” Robin squeals, side hugging him.

“Same, sweetheart,” Eddie grins, leaning into him from the other side.

“Thanks,” she blushes. “It’s just- You know, I was talking to Madame Tucker about it. She told me not to deny myself little pleasures in my own home and it got me thinking.”

“She absolutely right,” Eddie agrees with Madame Tucker. “I, for one, am enjoying the fact that I have my own space to just be weird and gay and loud. You should too.”

“Exactly,” Stevie smiles. “I also want to plan more nights for just me. To dress up and not have to be so masculine as I present myself out there. It’s fine for you two to be there, but you don’t have to. I will probably just play around, nothing serious or that interesting.”

“Take that back,” Robin gasps. “I still get to do you makeup at some point. Do not take that from me!”

After a moment of stunned and touched silence, Stevie giggles: “I won’t.”

“Good,” Robin nods, satisfied.

Eddie offers: “If you don’t mind, I’m also not going to get out of your hair. It’s good to see you be yourself and if you’re just doing it to get comfortable, then I’d love to annoy you with all my shit while you do.”

“That’s nice,” Stevie replies. “Maybe you can play me some music?”

“Fuck yeah,” Eddie cheers. “I swear, I’m going to break through at some point. Or you know, always play and tell people I could have.”

“I believe in you,” Stevie tells him, leaning his own head on top of Eddie’s from where it’s still resting against his shoulder.

“Me too,” Robin adds.

“Yeah, we’ll drive you to the city and shit for gigs and promote the shit out of you,” Stevie promises, making Eddie blush and hide behind his hair with a happy grin.

Then Eddie leads forwards and smirks to Robs: “You have to promote the shit out of me when you get to college. Those schmucks there will only know good music if you hit them with it.”

“I will,” she promises too.

They fall quiet for another second, before Stevie asks: “What sort of college are you trying to get into? Are you already applying?”

“Yeah, I, uhm- I am,” Robin admits. “I know you want to stay here for the kids and I don’t blame you, but I also know you get sad about me not living here, so I’ve been keeping it at home. It’s something to do there that keeps my family happy anyways.”

And she’s not wrong, Stevie (and Eddie) will miss the crap out of her when she’s not in Hawkins anymore. But he wants her to share everything with them.

“Hey, Robs, Robbie,” he says softly getting her attention. “Of course I’m going to miss you, but I know you’re excited about college and moving to the city. And I don’t care where you go, I’m always going to come visit and annoy you.”

“Yeah, me too. I’ve always wanted to break into a dorm and stay there illegally,” Eddie adds, smirking gently. “Maybe you’ll have a roommate we can scare the crap out of with our satanism.”

“I’m not sure I want to approve and encourage that behavior,” Stevie says. “But exactly that. You can talk to us about this. I want to get excited with you. You’re so bright, Robin. Of course we want to be happy for you.”

By the time she’s done, Robin has wet eyes and she shoves a bite into her mouth to ignore it, before being unable to stay silent. So muffled by the food she says: “Don’t make me cry into my nice new years breakfast, dingus.”

“Sorry,” Stevie winces.

“Not sorry, idiot,” Robin says, knocking their shoulders together. “Thank you. For being here.”

“We’ll always be here,” Eddie tells her and Stevie is grateful that she can just nod, because Robin is making her emotional too.

Robin finishes chewing her bite, swallowing before saying: “I wasn’t planning on going far. I’m looking into the languages programs in Indy. I figured if I can learn Russian in a week and have fun, I might be good at that. Plus, I’d have people we already know there to go to, should I need it.”

“That’s smart,” Stevie says, relieved that she’s thinking of being safe and mentally noting to mention it to Madame Tucker when they call next week, having skipped yesterday due to it being the new years. He’s sure she’ll be fine with him giving Robin the address, but it’s better to check those sort of things.

“I am smart,” Robin points out, which makes Eddie snort and mutter: “That makes one of us.”

“You’re plenty smart too, Eds,” Stevie sighs. “Stop that.”

“Then you’re also smart,” Eddie challenges.

Stevie wants to protest, but doubts that it will be useful. She has never been academically gifted or fast on the uptake most times. However, his friends refuse to let him talk like that about himself, claiming that he’s smart socially, whatever that means. So, she just rolls her eyes and says: “Sure, whatever. We’re three geniuses over here.”

That makes Eddie and Robin laugh, which is contagious enough for Stevie to join in. Their laughter filling the soft morning with delight and family.

It’s nearly 11:00 AM when they finally roll out of bed and Eddie and Robin insist on doing the dishes. Normally Stevie would fight them, wanting to be useful and not minding the tasks, however, she lets herself be convinced, starting to trust that Eddie and Robin don’t care about that and just want him around.

While they’re doing that, Stevie showers and gets dressed in something other than his pajamas that is still comfortable. Then gets Eddie’s gift and a book he got for Robin.

Eddie and Robin are sitting at the table, so he joins them and slides them over. Robin raises her brow at the surprise gift, before unwrapping it and gasping. She thanks Stevie profusely and has to fight to not start reading immediately.

Meanwhile, Eddie is studying his gift with a curious look, before unwrapping it with the grace of a five year old. The wrapping paper reveals a new DnD book and some new strings for his guitar. Gleefully Eddie thanks him, saying she didn’t need to do that.

“No, but I wanted to,” he shrugs. “I have been saving for Christmas next to my other saving and I used some of the money from my parent’s furniture. This is a much better cause, trust me. I wouldn’t have done it otherwise.”

“Alright, if you’re sure,” Eddie says.

“Of course I’m sure,” Stevie rolls her eyes. “You and Robs got me a Le Creuset pan. Like, a real Le Creuset. Fucking hell.”

“It was mostly personal gain,” Robin grins.

“Yeah, we’re gonna be eating the food you make in it,” Eddie adds.

Neither of them mention how Stevie had yelled, before pulling both of them into the biggest hug, claiming that it was one of the nicest things anyone had ever done for him, before nearly tearing up about it when the two had given it before Robin’s mom came to pick her up on Christmas.

Stevie is glad to forget it, so she just shrugs and says: “It’s just a nice fucking pan.”

Just after lunch the gremlins come by, all thanking Stevie for the gifts and gushing about how nice the surprise was when they woke up. Contentment settling in Stevie’s bones at their excitement, which turns to amused fondness when they bully Eddie into making them the hot chocolate now, then drag them all into making snowmen outside.

All the snowmen are fucking ugly, but that doesn’t matter. They’re all red nosed and smiling when it’s done and that’s the most important part anyway.

When it starts to get late Stevie drives all of them home, scolding them for biking over the frozen and dangerous roads. Once returned, Eddie and Robin have welcomed Wayne, who couldn't make yesterday’s party due to an emergency at the plant.

It’s adorable how excited Eddie is to host his uncle and give him the same hospitality that was granted to him all those years ago when he showed up on his doorstep.

Wayne obviously thinks the same and doesn’t argue much as he is delegated to a chair which he is not allowed to come out of, unless it’s to take a piss. No helping allowed.

A pro of the small house is that they can continue to talk to him as they prepare dinner. Stevie is in charge as always, enjoying her rule of the kitchen. However, Eddie and Robin have found their place in his chaos, cutting and cleaning, making it a smoother process.

Dinner itself is also nice. Now that they’re open with Wayne (mostly, but Stevie’s working on it), it seems that conversation is also easier. They can share experiences and listen to stories of Wayne, who tells them about his time and how far they’ve come and that there is hope.

Not to mention that Wayne is also a goldmine for embarrassing Eddie stories, which the two have no qualms about draining. He even brought a few pictures to add to their collection this time and they giggle over moody fourteen year old Eddie making clumsy devil horns, hair still growing out, giving him cute curls.

By the time Wayne has to leave for work, they’ve been promised some baby pictures too and are all feeling as light as a feather.

Then it’s just the three of them, though Robin is getting ready to get back home, complaining: “It’s like she thinks that you can only get pregnant if you stay two nights, which isn’t remotely true and disgusting that she thinks I’m sleeping with either of you.”

“Robs, you’re breaking my heart,” Eddie jests, while Stevie makes a sympathetic noise as he puts on his shoes.

“Fuck off, Eddie,” Robin rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling again.

“I’m just saying that I have great genetics,” Eddie shrugs with a shit eating grin

“Ieww, gross, don’t say that,” Robin wrinkles her nose. “That’s worse than Stevie saying boobies ten times in a row.”

“Boobies is a valid word,” Stevie protests as Eddie cackles.

“No, it’s not,” Robin argues, only stopping to kiss Eddie’s cheek and hug him goodbye, Stevie waving as they leave, while Robin picks up the boobies argument again.

It’s familiar, an easy back and forth that Stevie lets himself get lost in for a moment. Ever since telling the others about her resolution, she’s been on a roll and she is trying to ride that wave for as long as it will take her. That means talking to Eddie. Tonight. Before he looses his nerve.

When she gets back, the dishes have been done and the table cleared. Eddie is waiting with two wafting mugs, greeting him when she comes in.

Stevie sinks down in a chair gratefully. Today was fun, so much fun, but the kids can be tiring, especially since they went to bed late. However, she’s not so tired that it’s an excuse not to do this, so after she has enjoyed a sip, he says: “Remember how I’m taking emotional risks?”

Eddie nods, but doesn’t say anything, which he is grateful for. If Eddie says something right now, she’ll probably not say it.

“I think we need to talk about what happened on Christmas,” he spits it out, ripping off the band aid so that he can’t take it back. “I want to try, if you’re still offering.

With the confession, Eddie lights up and he gets out of his chair. Stevie is confused at it and it’s only when Eddie is already halfway down the hall that he calls back: “I made lists in case this happened. Wait one sec!” as an explanation.

Guess they’re really doing this.

~~

A/N:

I never really said it before, but if college isn’t for you, then it isn’t for you and there is absolutely nothing wrong with that. You can be perfectly happy without a college degree (and you can always change your mind, no shame!) <3

Also not me being very queer but having to google how to be a good ally because my mind just went blank lmao, the secret service must be very fucking confused about me rn xp

[willel]

I thought Hopper and Bob were stated to be old friends from high school even though they didn't exactly cross paths. Maybe like you said, they knew each other but did not exactly talk while Bob was secretly crushing on Joyce. Hmm... I wonder how they're gonna portray that then? Because from what we know, Joyce did not exactly have a connection to Bob until later on. Are they gonna just kinda change that? If that's not the case it would mean that we're just gonna most likely see Joyce and Hopper together instead, with a little bit of Bob, also I am not sure how correct it is but the wiki says that Bob was classmates with Joyce and Hopper, which is ig interesting. I do not think Bob would be 2-3 years old younger than Hopper or Joyce though because it is said that Hopper and Bob knew each other and were friends to an extent, I think they must have been in the same year for them to meet, but I am not sure. I just wonder how they're gonna connect their dynamic together since Joyce is said to be unaware of Bob's existence whereas Hopper seems to have a more connection to Bob when they were in highschool.

I'm imagining a situation where Hopper is the kid that kinda talks to everyone but isn't exactly super close friends with anyone? The one that's always chill but doesn't get too close.

So it'd make sense if he was friends or friendly with both Bob and Joyce but Joyce and Bob never actually crossed paths/met face to face.

One hour he's skipping class smoking cigarettes with Joyce under the stairs. The next hour he's with Bob in the library as Bob is trying to help him write a paper.

Next hour, I guess he's screwing a girl in the back of his dad old car as he claim he did in season 1.

If I had to guess what they're going to do with Bob, he's going to be connected to Hopper, who is connected to Joyce. Maybe it's possible out of all the kids, Bob is the one that interacted with Henry once or twice. He created and looked over the middle school AV club after all and that seems like something Henry would be interested in.

Then again, I don't think Henry was THAT into it because Will was able to use morse code to get by the Mind Flayer's mental block on him. If Henry knew Will was using morse code, surely he would've stopped him from doing that too. Then again, he was only there for a month, so it's not like Henry could've memorized morse code that quick. It could fit actually.

Bob really cared a lot about the whole outcast thing and being bullied. And how he never stood up to his bullies and admired that Joyce did. I dunno. I can see that coming into play.

Imagine a repeat of season 2. Bob telling Henry,

Bob: If my parents treated me that way. I would stand up to them once and for all. You get me? Don't be afraid to talk to your parents.

Henry: Oh ok. -goes home later that night and tries to murder everyone-

Bob seeing the news: Oh... his parents really were terrible. His dad ended up murdering him. :C

Pfff. Random thought don't take it too seriously. But anyway.

As for the same year thing, that's not necessarily true. Take Robin for example. I think she's a year behind Steve but shared at least 1 class with him. Depending on the high school, the subject, and the student, it's not odd for there to be younger and older students together in the same class. I wouldn't be surprised if Bob was super smart and was put into some higher level classes. Not sure if the concept of "AP class" existed back then but maybe it did.

So it'd be like:

Bob - direct interactions with Henry encouraging him to defend himself, much like he did for Will

Hopper - No interactions with Henry but has interactions with Bob, Joyce, and his parents. We got a lot of Hopper exposition in the show already to be honest so I don't think we need too much more

Joyce - No interactions with Henry or Bob but interacts with Hopper . Will probably learn about her family dynamics and how she came to know Lonnie. May have very indirect connections to the Creel tragedy.

Henry - Might barely appear to be honest, might be more focused on Virginia Creel and an occasional scene with Bob or something

At the very least could make for some fun fanfiction one shots!

[sparks-olivarpente]

Life had never really been the kindest to Joyce Byers.

She supposes it would feel wrong of it to start now. But, with something of a smile crossing her face, she thinks that life had never been the kindest to Jim Hopper either. That they would always have, just for themselves, that shared cigarette, that faith in each other. That sometimes she would rather be saving the world instead of having a safe telemarketing job in California. That the Lenora house was of course a house, but Hopper’s arms in Kamchatka and his hands keeping her steady in a helicopter over Alaska and being a detective by his side in Hawkins, the most sleepy, most unassuming town in the world—that felt something like home.

Or, the one where Joyce Byers and Jim Hopper finally have a moment to themselves.

Sharing another favorite fic, and one of the only not-byler fic I have read and loved! <3

If you're looking for a byler fic try Press Me Between Your Pages from the same author: https://archiveofourown.org/works/40921953

[everyonehatestherisotto]

i was reading this thing about touch starved steve and my brain definitely didn’t apply the last few days of my life to it and come out with this: 

touch starved kids. 

i’m not saying that joyce doesn’t hug will her kids and karen wheeler seems great at it too. so does hopper. they have choices but they’re also kind of a weird age where they want to be more grown than they are. needing a hug and getting it from your mom??? ugh gross. it’s a journey they have to go through lol 

but they do still need hugged (i could talk about this in society for a long, long time but this isn’t the post for that). now i don’t work with the older kids anymore, i work with the littles. who are also trying to be grown in their own weird little ways. fresh new to school and feeling like big shots. but i’ve spent this week with so many different kids cuddled against me. i don’t know what they all know but everyone is taking what they need and they need held. 

so apply that to the barely teenaged crew. they’re hanging out watching a movie and dustin gets up to go to the bathroom real quick but comes back and pushes himself in between steve and the arm of the couch. there was in no way room for him but he made it work because right now he needs that closeness.  everyone’s standing around after hellfire club talking, eddie and steve are sharing a cigarette and will just moves in and lays his head against eddie’s back, pressed up against him and not listening. steve rubs his back and they just sort of chill there for a minute. even as eddie starts to walk, will just sticks with him.  erica walking around where ever and even though she’s usually pretty distant won’t wander away from steve. like she doesn’t go for the touch like the other kids but being in close proximity is enough. 

i could go on and on and on but the thought of all these little dweebs just taking this comfort and contact they need but can’t ask for because they’re trying to be bigger than they are. and the way the older ones just give it without being weird. it means a lot to me. 

[billlydear]

another day another slay from my love savannah ! <3 <3 <3 here's my faves aaaa

Billy doesn’t see you for a moment and starts to worry maybe you aren’t coming. He’s already supplying excuses for having to go home, but Steve left the door ajar, and after a moment, there you are. 

BFKNKSJDNF he doesn't wanna be there without you :-(

“Billy doesn’t have to do anything he doesn’t want to do,” you finally say.  The man in question turns to face you. You have to lean your head back some because of how close he is. 

BUTTERFLIES SAVANNAH I GOT BUTTERFLIES... thinking about him just being all up in your business <3 <3 <3

“Say that again.” He stubs out his cigarette in the ashtray either Hopper or Joyce have left outside. He’s watching you again.  “What?” He’s not gonna let you go all shy on him now. He needed to hear that. He needs to hear it.  “You know what.” “I want you to go.” “Then it’s settled. Need to get out of this shithole anyways.”

HE NEEDS YOUR REASSURANCE.. i'll need 3-5 business days to recover from that

He sits on the end of the bed, and reaches out for you. You move towards him slowly, but the moment you’re within his grasp, Billy spreads his legs and grabs your waist, slotting your body between them.  “You can go if you really want to. If you think I’ve got cooties or somethin’ and you don’t wanna share a bed with me.”

Savannah i was... not okay during this part. he's so tender with her, he takes such care to be kind and sweet and UGH the entire scene (which i couldn't copy down all of or else this would be too long) was just perfect!

“I’m in love with you, you know.” “I know,” you respond. He tosses his head back in a laugh, and you press a sweet kiss to his throat. 

KISSING HIS THROAT.... ohhh i'm in love, i absolutely love uncommon affection like that, gah i wanna kiss his throat while he laughs <3 <3 <3

you've outdone yourself!! i say that and mean it every time but truly everything you write is just phenomenal, i'm so grateful that you share your work with us and make our days better because of it <3 <3 <3

healing

billy hargrove x gn!reader

word count: 5,445

warnings: swearing, smoking, mentions of past trauma (starcourt), slight sexual innuendos??

a/n: hi! remember when i made you do a poll for my 1k celebration? and one bed with billy won? well this is that fic! i'm sorry it took so long to get here, but school was kicking the ever loving shit out of me. anyways, i really hope you like it. it's a little different than other fics i've written, but i think that's a good thing. just for context, this is post the end of season three, with billy and hopper being okay and jopper being in full swing. i think that's all i wanted to say. thanks again for 1k followers. that's still so wild to me. i love you. and billy loves you too <333

————

November 1985

“No.”

“What do you mean no? You just fought an interdimensional being, don’t you want a vacation?” 

Lucas wipes both hands down his face, flopping down on the arm of the couch beside where Max sits with El between her knees, tying off one of the two braids she’s trying to make. 

“Max, can you help me? Please?” Lucas has been arguing about this for fifteen minutes. 

She rolls her eyes, but looks up from her work nonetheless. “Billy.”

The man in question crosses his arms, locking eyes with the redhead. “Maxine.”

Max finishes Eleven’s braid and she hops up to join Will where he’s working on a puzzle. Joyce brought it home from work a few days ago, and it’s been spread out on a card table in the corner of the living room since then. Will couldn’t watch The Golden Girls with Joyce from the kitchen table. 

“Just come with us, Billy. We all know you hate it here. It’ll give you a chance to get away for a little while.”

Except that’s not totally the truth. He doesn’t hate it here. Not with you around. 

“There’s a pool.” Will looks up, a little shyly, from the puzzle, fingers flipping around a single piece. “At the place Robin found.” 

Billy nods, and it’s enough to make Will smile at the acknowledgment. 

It’d been Steve’s idea, after everything that happened in July. He thought everyone going on a trip together might be a good idea. Go a little ways out from home, calm down. 

You and Billy started going to school, though Billy is still working. He found a job at a record store across the street from Melvald’s that opened after the mall went to shit. It definitely wasn’t his first choice, but it works. And he’s slowly fixing up the Camaro. 

Steve had offered to pay for the repairs in full, considering he did most of the damage when he rammed the side of it, but Billy couldn’t handle that. So far Max has only convinced him to let Steve cover the really expensive parts. It hurts Billy more than he’d care to admit—having Steve Harrington give him money. 

But he can’t lie, going somewhere away from Hawkins, even just for a couple days, sounds really nice. It’s the group part that’s bothering him. He’s still not used to everyone wanting him to tag along, but apparently major trauma brings people together.

There’s the slamming of car doors, and footsteps running up the driveway before the door swings open, Robin bursting in with a stack of movies in her arms. She’s followed by Dustin and then Steve, bags and keys being tossed every which way. 

Billy doesn’t see you for a moment and starts to worry maybe you aren’t coming. He’s already supplying excuses for having to go home, but Steve left the door ajar, and after a moment, there you are. 

You look sleepy, footsteps the quietest of everyone else as you carefully push the Byers’ door shut behind you. He watches as you accept a hug from Eleven, overhears her ask, “how did your test go?” 

He’s happy to hear you tell her it went well. It’s only after you’ve looked at her and Will’s puzzle and snapped a few more corner pieces in that you make a beeline for the open spot on the couch beside Billy. 

When you’ve settled, your knee bumps against his. “Hey.”

He looks at you, a little grin playing at the corners of his mouth. His arms are still crossed, thumb playing with the pendant resting on his chest. A chest surprisingly covered by a sweater, though the sleeves are pushed up. 

“Hey. Glad your test is over?”

That sound of his voice makes you smile, and he’s never been so grateful for something, even if it’s just an expression. “Yeah.”

You glance down at the new tattoo on his arm, a dark colored snake wrapping around the skin covering his elbow. You run your thumb across the tail that flicks across his forearm, and Billy relaxes into your touch. 

“You have work today?”

Billy shakes his head. You’re glad he had the day off. And you’d tell him so if it weren’t for the sudden bombardment. 

Lucas is suddenly standing in front of you, having returned from the kitchen where you think he and Dustin may have been cleaning out Joyce’s fridge. 

“Holy shit, thank god you’re here. I need you to convince Billy to go on vacation.” 

You glance at Max, assuming she’s already tried. She looks rather annoyed. “Lucas, would you sit down?”

The boy looks at Max, and she glares at him. Clearly he knows better and sits down next to her. 

“Billy doesn’t have to do anything he doesn’t want to do,” you finally say. 

The man in question turns to face you. You have to lean your head back some because of how close he is. 

“Are you going?” he asks, voice quiet and thick with something you don’t know that you’re supposed to notice. 

“Y-yeah. I was gonna. Robin only went on about it to me for an hour over the phone last night. I just think it might be nice to get away for a little while.” Billy doesn’t break eye contact with you, and while it makes you a little nervous, it tells you he’s listening.

“And I can watch Max for you if you really don’t want to go. Just make sure she doesn’t kill Lucas or anything.” Max snorts at your response, though Lucas looks at her in panic, already calculating how best to prevent that sort of situation. 

Your gaze softens and you fight the urge to reach out and run your thumb across Billy’s cheek. 

Please come with us. I want you to go. I want you there, you think. But it’s not what you say. You don’t know how badly he needs to hear it. 

“You really don’t have to go, Billy. Not if you don’t want to.”

“But there is enough space, man.” Steve stands behind the couch, handing El a scrunchie he retrieved from her bag. His voice is calm, informative. “If you decide to go. There’s plenty of room, and we’d be happy if you did.”

Billy could make some smartass remark. But he won’t. He knows that Steve is being honest, and that he’s not trying to be a dick. It seems that witnessing the guy who beat the shit out of you almost die not even a year after he moved to town really brings you together. 

Billy gives an acknowledging nod. “I’d be very happy if you did,” Eleven says. She loves having Jonathan as an older brother, really she does, but Billy lets her play with his hair. And in her books, that really ups the scale. 

He smiles at her, and El considers that a win. 

You notice him shift next to you, and then he’s leaning forward to whisper in your ear. “Come with me?” He cocks his head in the direction of the door. 

He gets up, assuming you’ll follow him. You always do. 

When you’ve shut the door, you move to the porch swing. It’s your favorite spot out here, and Joyce says it makes her happy to see someone use it. She used to sit there with Will in the mornings after Jonathan left for school and read to him. She did the same with Jonathan, but he was a much more fidgety kid, wanting to find something else to do. 

Billy lights a cigarette, and you watch where he fidgets with the ring on his middle finger. 

He’s standing a little ways away from you so as to not breathe the smoke directly in your vicinity, but you wish so badly that he was closer. You like having him close. The weight of his body next to you, the warmth, how solid his arm feels when it’s pressed to yours or when he slides down on the couch some and it's more so pressed to your side. 

“Which part of it are you worried about?” you ask him. 

He shrugs. “You really think they want me there? You think Max wants me around?” “Billy, I know she does. And I know that voice in your head is telling you that it’s a pity invite, but it’s not. And, besides…” you trail off, but he’s not having that. He needs you to reassure him. 

“Besides what?” 

You look up at him. “I want you to go. And yeah, I’ll be sad if you don’t go, but that shouldn’t sway your decision either.” You push your feet against the concrete porch a little harder, and the swing responds to the movement. You move quicker, now feeling very pleased with yourself. 

Billy almost laughs at the child-like look on your face, but you look so at home on the swing that he holds it in. A grin escapes nonetheless. 

“Say that again.” He stubs out his cigarette in the ashtray either Hopper or Joyce have left outside. He’s watching you again. 

“What?” He’s not gonna let you go all shy on him now. He needed to hear that. He needs to hear it. 

“You know what.”

“I want you to go.”

“Then it’s settled. Need to get out of this shithole anyways.”

————

The place Steve found is about two hours from Hawkins, with three bedrooms, a shockingly luxurious pull-out couch, and bigger common areas than you’ve ever laid eyes on. Excluding the ones in Steve’s house. In short, the rental is like Hopper’s cabin, if Hopper’s cabin were updated and substantially larger. It feels like the kind of place rich people have to take weekend trips. You’d rather not find out how much Steve is paying for the lot of you to stay there. 

Robin takes you on a grand tour while everyone else explores the backyard. Dustin is already determined to climb a tree. One of the rooms has two sets of bunk beds, dedicated to the four boys. “To ensure no cootie-spreading,” Robin proclaims. 

She and Steve will share the couch, with Max and Eleven in the smaller bedroom. 

Robin stops at the end of the hallway. “Which leaves…” 

You and Billy. 

You and Billy Hargrove.

Sharing a room. 

Sharing a bed. 

Speaking of, the man in question brushes past you, setting his bag on the floor at the foot of the bed. Robin takes that as her queue to leave and gives you a thumbs up on the way out. You hope she can feel your death stare on the back of her head, and she knows it, being quick to run down the hall. 

“So we’re roomies, huh?” Billy says, gathering his hair at the base of his neck. You hadn’t even realized he had a tie on him, and it takes him finishing off a lazy bun to realize it’s a blue scrunchie. You have to bite your lip to keep from saying anything. 

“I can sleep with Max and El, if you want. Or–”

That crease between Billy’s brows forms. “Why would you do that?”

You’ve gone all warm. You’d have to sleep in bed with him. And you sit next to him all the time, but this is different. Isn’t it?

Maybe it’s not so weird. You’re just friends. It’s like a sleepover, right?

“I don’t know, you might not want to sleep together or something.”

He cocks a brow, but you catch the double meaning of your words just in time. “You know what I mean, Billy.”

He sits on the end of the bed, and reaches out for you. You move towards him slowly, but the moment you’re within his grasp, Billy spreads his legs and grabs your waist, slotting your body between them. 

“You can go if you really want to. If you think I’ve got cooties or somethin’ and you don’t wanna share a bed with me.”

You snort, and Billy drinks in the sound, knowing he’s the one that made you laugh. 

“I don’t think you’ve got cooties.”

You realize in that moment that his hands haven’t left their spot on your waist, never straying anywhere else. The weight of them on you is enough to keep you focused on him, and he seems to acknowledge that. 

“Then what is it?” he asks, in that low drawl you fear could get out any answer he wanted from you. 

You hesitate, but say it anyway. “You don’t think it’ll be weird? Sleeping in the same bed?”

Billy fights the urge to rest his forehead against your stomach. He wants to tell you he’s wished you were in his bed on more than one occasion. Sometimes he just wishes you were there so it wouldn’t feel so cold, so he’d have someone to pull him out of his thoughts before they eat him alive altogether. 

“No, I don’t think it’ll be weird.”

You nod your head, and try to move back from him. 

Billy whines. “Uh uh. Nope.”

You go to put your hands on your hips, and they graze Billy’s on the way. He grabs hold of them. “You don’t want to have a sleepover with me?”

Billy’s looking up at you with those watery blue eyes, and you know this is a battle you’ll never win. 

“Really?”

He lets out a breath of a laugh, and your eyes fall to his neck when he tosses his head back. 

“Yeah, baby.”

Baby. 

It feels like every cell in your body has been sent into overdrive, like you can’t compute a single coherent thought. All because Billy called you “baby”. 

And if he’s being honest with himself, he feels the same way. He hadn’t meant to say it. It’s just that he calls you “baby” in his head all the time, and it just…happened.

“I’d love to have a sleepover with you, Hargrove.”

“Mhm. Thought so.” 

This time he lets the laugh out, and it’s a beautiful sound. The kind of sound you’d commit unspeakable acts to hear again. And this time, he does let his forehead drop to rest on your stomach. It surprises you, but you’re not mad about it.

“Oh, fuck off,” you say, and you can feel his chuckle against your skin.

When he quits, you find yourself just standing there, find your hands moving around his back. He’s always so warm. You rub your hands up and down his back, the denim of his jacket rough on your fingertips. 

You feel him shift, feel his change in position, the hard press of his chin against you. Billy is looking up at you, and you know he’s hoping you’ll return his gaze. His eyes bore into yours, and you hate to think of what you must look like from this angle. Clearly he doesn’t mind. 

You push a curl behind his ear, a shockingly perfect ringlet that’s too short to be contained like the rest of them. 

Billy would be taken aback by the gesture if it weren’t for the fact that you always go this easy on him. Like you know he’s healing, in more ways than one. 

“We can’t stay here forever, you know. I wanna go look around.” 

“Yeah,” he laughs. “I’m sure it’s riveting.” He lets you go anyway, following you down the hall to the rest of the cabin.

————

Your back rests on the base of an oversized chair, one that’s surprisingly comfy, your body in between Robin’s legs. She’s sitting next to Steve, watching you moderate El, Lucas, and Will play Twister. Dustin’s already out. 

“Right hand blue.”

“You’re kidding right?”

“Sinclair, have you never played this game before?”

Lucas scoffs, trying to reach the blue on the other side of the mat without toppling into Will. Max went with Billy to the store, but they should be back soon. You have a sick feeling they’re taking advantage of having been given Steve’s debit card. 

“Yes, I’ve played the game before. If you’re so good, why don’t you get down here and show us how it’s done, Harrington?”

“Yeah, Harrington, why don’t you show us how flexible you are?” Billy’s voice makes you look up from where you’ve been mindlessly twisting the spinner on the board around with the tip of your finger. 

He stands just inside the living room, holding the door open with his leg. He kicks it shut once Max has made it in. She heaves the paper bags she’d been holding up and onto the counter. Steve rises to help unpack them. You follow on instinct, handing the spinner to Robin instead, and Dustin is quick to take Steve’s spot before Mike can. 

Billy won’t let you take anything from him, but he will let you help figure out what the hell to do with all of it. “Do I even want to know how much you both spent?” you ask. 

He gives you that fucking smile, and you know you don’t. “Max said she wanted to have a spa night–whatever that means–with El, so we sort of split up. I’m sure Steve’ll live.” 

“For your information, Lucas,” Steve continues, clearly not ready to let the quips towards his limberness go, “I was the captain of the swim team.”

“What’s that got to do with being flexible, dingus?” Robin directs the two remaining players, the young boy in question having just busted his ass. 

“Swimming is an art form, Rob. You gotta learn to respect it.”

You choke on a laugh, and Billy is quick to rub your back while he chuckles into your shoulder. 

“Something funny over there?” Steve questions. 

You straighten, trying to wipe the smile from your face though it’s to no avail. “Nope, Steven. I’m sure you’re just incredibly stretchy. Like Mr. Fantastic.”

His brow furrows. “Mr. Fantastic?”

Dustin snorts, elbow deep in a bag of chips, and you quickly realize that you probably shouldn’t have given him an opening, but you don’t exactly regret it either. 

The lot of you spend the rest of the night in this fashion, playing games, eating way too much food, taking turns smacking the top of the television so your movie will keep playing. 

It feels like home. It feels safe. You wish it always felt this way. 

————

You’d just finished brushing your teeth when you hear the bedroom door click shut, hear footsteps you can tell are in search of you. 

You peek your head out of the bathroom and Billy grins at the sight of you in pajamas, a smear of moisturizer on your forehead you’ve yet to rub in. 

He squeezes in the small room, about the same size as his at home, to join you. There’s something about this moment, the domesticity of it, that makes your heart swell. It feels like something you could get used to, getting ready for bed with him. Neither of you have to say anything, you just do your own thing, but having him be there, having his presence–it’s more than enough for you. 

When you climb into bed, you try and read for a while, the sounds of Billy washing his face comforting you. You find it easy to read even when he does get in with you, the mattress sinking underneath his weight, the sheets rustling as he moves around experimentally, trying to get comfortable in a bed that isn’t his own. 

You feel odd though, reading when he’s right there, so it isn’t long before you close the book and slide further into the covers with him. Billy’s quick to turn on his side, wanting to see you like this. 

He watches you yank the blankets up to your chin, looking at him over a blur of fluffy white comforter. “It’s fuckin’ freezin’ in here,” you tell him.

“C’mere then.”

You burrow further into your pillow, fearing you know exactly what he’s going to suggest. “Huh?”

“You’re cold. You always whine about me being warm or somethin’ and I’m telling you to come here.”

“Billy.”

“Stop.” He lifts the covers up some, untucking you from them, and he wraps his arm around your back, tugging you into his side. 

Suddenly you’re pressed against him, having slid across the sheets easier than you’d have imagined. 

He’s let go of you, his arm hovering over your back. “You want me to hold you or no?” 

“Yeah.” 

Billy lets his arm drop against your side, his fingers splaying out over your back. He rubs his hand up and down your spine, hoping it’ll warm you up. “This okay?” 

“Yes.” 

He nods. You’re looking at him like he’s something special.

Billy realizes, in that moment, that that’s how you’ve always looked at him. Even before. 

He also realizes that your hands are tucked under your chin and your legs are curled up and into you like you’re afraid of making any contact with him. 

“You can loosen up, you know. It’s just me.” 

You let out a breath of a laugh, and he can feel it against the skin of his neck. 

“It’s okay, I promise. You can touch me.” Billy has this feeling that you’re afraid of hurting him. He’s sure you’ve noticed that he’s wearing a shirt to bed, something he never did before. And he thinks that you’re worried he’ll break. 

“You’re sure?”

“Wouldn’t have said so otherwise.”

He watches you unfold your hands and stretch your arm over him, hooking it around his hip. You want to rub up and down his side, but you’re nervous. 

It’s just me. 

“Do they hurt at all?”

Your thumb skates up a little further, and you don’t have to tell him what you mean. 

“Not all the time,” he says, voice low and thick with drowsiness. “At first, yeah, like hell. Now it’s just sometimes. They can feel a little tight, or just bug me. Depends, I guess.”

You nod, feeling brave enough now to slide your hand up a little further. Your touch is light, barely there. You close your eyes, trying not to think about when it happened. How he’d screamed. 

He can tell when you’ve calmed down some, because your arm relaxes and you hug him a little more firmly. You scoot in a little closer, close enough that your noses would touch if you tried to make them. 

“Goodnight, Billy.”

He makes the move, dragging the tip of his nose across your forehead. He kisses the top of your head, and you grin so wide you feel like a kid in a candy shop. 

“Goodnight, baby.”

————

When you wake up, you almost don’t want to disturb him, but you know you should get out of bed.

Billy is sprawled out on his stomach, having separated from you at some point during the night. His tank top is rucked up from the tossing and turning of sleep, and you look away when you catch a glimpse of pink skin. It doesn’t feel like your place to look. 

You wander out of the room, carefully shutting the door behind you. You make it down the hall, and find that Robin seems to be the only other one awake. You should’ve guessed. She told you once before that her body doesn’t seem to let her sleep in. 

Steve is still passed out on the pull-out couch, completely covered by the blankets. The only sign of him is a tuft of messy hair against the light colored pillow case his head rests on. 

Robin waves at you from her perch at the kitchen counter, a bowl of cereal in front of her. “Want some?” she whispers, pushing the box in your direction. 

You fill up your own bowl, having a feeling that Robin is about to ramble. 

“Sleep okay?” she asks. 

“Mhm. You?”

“Fine. Though, y’know, Steve is a horrific bed hog. Seriously, he was half on top of me the whole night. I might have to bunk with Max and El.” 

You laugh, and Robin takes that as her queue to ask what she’s been pondering since she woke up. 

“Was it okay? Sleeping with Billy? Well, not like that. Well, I’m assuming not like that, not that there’s anything wrong with that, but I just meant like actually sleeping? Please stop me.”

You grin at her. “Please breathe, Rob.” She does, over exaggerating her inhales. “And it was fine.”

“Okay, good. I was kind of worried you’d be frustrated with my matchmaking tendencies. I just really want you two to be happy. And he seems so calm when he’s with you, and I realize I’ve just told you that I’ve been pushing you two together and I–”

You wipe milk from your chin, having almost spit out your cereal. “Robin, sweetheart, it’s okay, I promise. I know about your matchmaking tendencies. But I think we’re just friends, right?”

“Just friends, my ass.” You hadn’t even seen Steve get up, but he’s reaching for the fridge and pulling out a carton of chocolate milk. He really can’t say anything about Dustin’s eating habits when he has the exact same diet. 

“Oh my god.”

“Listen, I’m just saying, there’s been something going on between you two since before the world went to shit. I don’t know why you two tiptoe around each other like it’s not obvious that you’re in love.”

“Steve!” you exclaim. “Seriously, what the hell? I’ve been up for like twenty minutes and you two are schooling me on my love life?”

“Or lack thereof,” Robin says. 

“Okay, damn. You know what, I’m going back to bed.” 

Steve pushes your bowl back towards you when you attempt to get up. “No, you’re not. I’m just saying, there’s no sense in avoiding this. You both clearly feel a lot for each other, and I don’t see any reason to avoid it when you could be together.” 

He’s being vulnerable with you, his big brown eyes boring into yours and trying to convey how serious he’s being. 

“Just think about it, okay? There’s no harm in talking about how you feel with him. And don’t say that you don’t feel anything, because that’s a goddamn lie.”

————

Billy’s had his swim trunks on all day, but he hasn’t done more than sit in the shade by the pool while everyone else makes a mess and plays ridiculous games in the water. 

It’s killing him to watch you in there from time to time, swimming around or sitting in the shallow end. You told him once that swimming calms you down. 

It’s not until after dinner, when everyone has moved inside for the most part, though there seems to be the plotting of a water balloon fight out front, that he’s brave enough to head for the pool. 

You follow him out there, see him contemplating the water. 

“Whatcha doin’?” 

Billy drops the cigarette he’d been smoking, snubbing it out. “Thought about going for a swim,” he tells you. 

“That sounds nice.”

“Mhm.”

“I can go back inside, if you want.”

Billy turns to face you. “No. No, I want you to stay.” He wants you to see. He can’t explain why, but he does. 

“Okay.” 

He takes a shaky breath, hoping you don’t catch it. You do. You always do. 

“I just…wasn’t ready for everyone to see.”

“I understand, Billy.” 

You know what he’s really saying. He wasn’t ready for everyone to see. But he’s ready for you to see. 

“I can get in first, if that helps. And I won’t look if you don’t want me to,” you say. 

“That helps, yeah. And you can look. It’s okay.”

He watches you wade in, watches the way your swimsuit changes color as you tread water. 

Billy takes another deep breath, and he’s pulling his shirt off. He’s quick though, diving straight into the deep end, knowing he needs to get it over with. 

When he comes up, his hair is sticking to his forehead, and he flips it out of the way, giving you a glimpse of the broad pink scar on his chest. 

He meets you halfway, and you think he’s in a serious mood until he’s splashing you like a child. 

“You motherfucker!” 

You get him back, and he’s laughing. 

Billy is laughing and he looks so pretty in the last of the day’s sunlight, beads of water sliding over his collarbones and down his arms, and you feel like you could die. Like seeing him this way is enough. You don’t need anything else.

You try to return a particularly aggressive splash, but he catches your waist, pulling you up and over his shoulder. 

“Billy!”

“What?” His voice is teasing. He tosses the rest of the way over, your laughter fading out into the water. 

You come up, a brilliant smile on his face. Billy’s sure if you stood close enough you’d be able to hear his heart beating. 

When you’ve both gone quiet, your eyes drop to the scars on his sides, the way they stretch across his skin, mean and twisting. Some spots are darker than others, and while it hurts you to look at them, you know it must hurt him even more. But he looks just as beautiful as before, if not increasingly so. 

“See something you like?” Billy says it on instinct. To hide the fact that he’s worried you don’t really like it. That maybe you think he’s gross looking. But he knows that’s all in his head. He fucking knows it. 

“You’re fucking gorgeous, Billy Hargrove.”

You say it with such surety, such admiration, that he can’t even begin to doubt that you mean it. 

He smiles at you. It’s boyish. You’d do anything to see a million more of them. 

He moves towards you, the sky having darkened enough that the outside lights have come on, the lights in the pool too. All that remains of the sun is a slash of deep orange, though the night quickly pushes it away.

Billy’s got you backed up against the wall of the pool now. His hands find your sides.

It’s overwhelming, having him this close. You can feel his breath on your face, see the rise and fall of his chest, the freckles on his cheeks. 

When he kisses you, you think your heart stops. His mouth is warm against yours, and he tastes a little like chlorine, but you don’t care. Your hands find his face, and you’re smiling so hard that he pulls away because he wants to see. You don’t let him for long though, pulling him back, wanting more. He laughs into your mouth, and your chest aches with this feeling.

Eventually you do let go, and when you hold his eye contact, he knows what you’re going to say. He needs to tell you first, though.

“I’m in love with you, you know.”

“I know,” you respond.

He tosses his head back in a laugh, and you press a sweet kiss to his throat. 

“I’m in love with you too, Billy.”

“Damn right you are.”

You snort against his chest, lowering slightly to kiss his scar. His breath catches. He doesn’t know what he did to deserve you. 

“About fucking time!” Steve’s shouting and Robin is yelling, and Max would be making barf sounds if she wasn’t so pleased with seeing her brother so happy. 

“So much for that,” Billy says.

But you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

————

“I’m regretting this, Billy.”

“Stop whining.”

Billy wraps his arms tighter around your back, pressing a kiss to your jaw in hopes that you’ll let him keep doing this. 

“Get off.”

“No.”

“Get off, please.”

“Make me.” 

There’s the sound of a slap, your hand having met his ass.

He raises his head from where he’d buried it in your chest, looking at you drowsily. “You just spanked me.”

And you’d do it again. 

“Didn’t work, did it?”

“No. Shut up and take it.”

By that he means continue letting him lay on top of you, his entire body pressed to yours. It doesn’t matter to him that there’s an entire bed, one that’s made for two people.

You settle for playing with his hair, something he seems to enjoy, and you’d mess with him about the fact that he’s essentially purring if it weren’t for him looking so content. 

He might be heavy, but having Billy Hargrove sleep on top of you isn’t exactly something you just give up. 

He’s never had this before.

Hell, you’ve never had this before. 

And he thinks it’s healing him. More than the salve he puts on his scars, or the physical therapy, or fixing up the Camaro. 

You’re healing him. You. 

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

[penny-hartzs]

favorite Stranger Things dynamics Joyce&Hopper “We ran, we just ran.”

[stevesbipanic]

After all this it's surprising that Eddie is the one to see him like this.

Well, maybe not as surprising as it should be.

He thought it would be Robin though that would finally see him crack, to break down in tears and heartwrenching sobs. To see all the walls fall away until there's just him, just Steve.

Maybe that's why it's Eddie though, that the walls finally shatter for.

It would never be the kids, he's tried too hard and for too long to make sure that they never see him weak, always hiding it all behind a sniffle or going to the next room for a moment.

Not Nancy either, when they were together he was King Steve, all his secrets kept locked away in an empty house.

Jonathan, Joyce and Hopper while important to him are also relying on him to take care of the kids when they can't, they need him to be strong.

So yes, Eddie makes sense. Eddie he has never had any expectation of Steve to save him or look after him, first only seeing King Steve but then seeing the Steve that Dustin would rave about. Eddie, who he kept company and their matching wounds turned into matching scars. Eddie, who Steve saw show every emotion he felt, fear, joy, anger, love.

It didn't even take much in the end. They were just sharing a cigarette on Steve's back porch watching the stars. Their scars now the only reminder of what they'd been through. The kids were safe, everyone was finally safe.

Eddie hadn't even said anything.

He'd just looked at Steve. Smiled that soft almost smile and Steve knew, he was ok.

He could finally let go.