#could be pre-stoncy but it's up to you

[unfinishedslurs]

weird jock shit (stonathan)

“Byers knows what I’m talking about,” Steve cheers, and follows it with a slap to Jonathan’s ass. A zing of heat goes up his spine. 

He straightens, startled, and he and Steve stare at each other. 

“Um.” He’s at a loss for words. There’s no way Steve Harrington actually just slapped his ass. That is not his reality. He refuses it.

His mouth is hanging open. He shuts it. 

“Sorry,” Steve says sheepishly. “Habit.”

His mouth opens and closes, until finally he forces words out. “Habit? I—who—Nancy?”

“Jesus, no!” Steve yelps. “No it’s, uh…theguysontheteam.” It’s rushed and under his breath, and Jonathan has no idea what he just said. 

“What?”

Steve lets his head thump onto the table. “It’s locker room shit,” he admits wearily.

Jonathan hasn’t set foot in the locker room since middle school. Mr. Grayson could yell at him for wearing jeans and a t-shirt instead of the gym uniform all he wants, there’s no way in hell he was going into that cesspit of jocks who’d take one look at him and call him gay for being in the same room as them. 

“You just…routinely slap other guy’s asses? Like it’s normal?”

Steve nods, steadily growing redder. 

“And they called me queer?”

As soon as it’s out of his mouth, Jonathan wants to take it back. He basically just said that Steve and every other jock was doing gay shit. Steve might regret the shit he’s said and done, but that doesn’t mean he’s okay with someone implying things about him. 

To his surprise, Steve just chuckles. 

“Yeah,” he sighs, running a hand down his face. “It’s fucking weird, huh? Assholes, the lot of us.”

“You said it, not me.”

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Just Friends

A pre-Stoncy s1 Fanfiction

Jonathan was so grateful that Will was returned safely from the Upside Down that he never left his side once he woke up. Will had insisted that Jonathan take a break, and he had no choice when Joyce backed him up. With Will coming back, he hadn't really had time to think about anything else or the consequences of his actions until he found Steve in an empty waiting room, digging his finger in his ear.

"Steve, are you okay?" Jonathan asked, but Steve was either ignoring him or he couldn't hear him. "Steve?!"

Jonathan touched his shoulder, and Steve jumped, whirling around. He looked surprised. Okay, so he hadn't heard him.

"Jonathan!" Steve yelled. "I didn't hear you come in!"

"Steve, are you okay?" Jonathan asked.

"Yeah, I just think that I have something in my ear," Steve said.

Then, the weight of everything that Jonathan had done had sunk in. He wanted Steve to be the asshole and he wanted to blame him for everything that went wrong. Steve Harrington with the perfect hair and who had everything handed to him. The truth was that Steve had been an asshole for what he had said at the theater and for not stopping Tommy and Carol. Jonathan had been a bigger asshole for taking those pictures and for taking back his apology to Nancy when she had confronted him. He had been so angry that Steve had destroyed his camera. Breaking a camera, he realized, was nothing in comparison to breaking someone's brain. It didn't matter that Will had been missing. Assaulting Steve and nearly killing him was way worse. Jonathan being so distraught about Will going missing wouldn't have been a justifiable excuse for either deafening or killing him. Jonathan was scared again.

"Fuck, Steve, you need to see a doctor," Jonathan said.

"What? No! I'm fine!" Steve exclaimed.

"Steve, I could have seriously messed up your hearing," Jonathan said.

He wanted to throw up when he said that. He couldn't believe that he was so worried about a stupid fucking camera. A camera can be replaced, a brain can't. If his hearing got permanently damaged because Jonathan was too stupid to control his anger. . . He had risen to Steve’s bait. It was almost like Steve had wanted Jonathan to keep hitting him, like he had been begging him too.

"It's just a little water in the ear," Steve said.

"Have you been in the water recently?" He asked.

"Well, no," he replied.

"I fucked up your hearing," Jonathan said with a sigh. "Go see a doctor."

Suddenly, Nancy entered the empty waiting room. Well, it was no longer empty except for the three of them. Her eyes were red rimmed from crying, reminding Jonathan that Barb hadn't come back from the Upside Down like Will had.

"What's going on?" Nancy asked.

"Steve can't hear out of his left ear," Jonathan said. "It's my fault."

He couldn't take it. Jonathan ran the trash can in the room and emptied the contents of his stomach. Images filtered through his head: Steve lying in a hospital bed in a vegetative state. . . Steve lying dead in that alleyway. . .then a memory of long ago entered his head. He remembered the first time his father had hit his mother. Joyce had always made sure that they had never seen it, but Jonathan had come inside much earlier than he had been told to. His father was making excuses to her, but no real apologies, making it Joyce's fault that Lonnie had hit her. Joyce had looked much like Steve does now.

"It's okay, sweetheart. Mommy just had a little accident," Joyce said.

Jonathan wanted to throw up again. He stood up and wiped his mouth. He turned to Steve.

"Get your ears checked," Jonathan said.

"It's going to clear up on its own," Steve blushed.

"Don't be an idiot, Steve Harrington," Nancy said. "If you're having trouble hearing, you need to get it looked at."

"It's not fair that you're both looking at me like that," Steve said. "Fine. Let's do this. I just - hate doctors."

"I'll go with you," Jonathan said.

"You don't have to do this," Steve said. "I deserved to get hit. I was an asshole. You have nothing to feel guilty about."

"You deserved to get slapped for what you said, not me turning your face into ground beef," Jonathan said. "If your brain got damaged. . .man, that can't be replaced, but my camera can. I deserved what I got, but you should have just gotten slapped."

"Oh my god!" Nancy said, rolling her eyes. "You were both doucebags. Steve, let us go with you."

"Yeah, okay," Steve said as she turned to walk out, and he looked at Jonathan. "She's not the boss of us, is she?"

"Yeah, I think she is," Jonathan said and shared a smile with Steve.

"Well, she's not the worst boss in the world," Steve said and laughed with Jonathan.

"Idiots," Nancy said affectionately. "The both of you."

"What did she say?" Steve asked.

Jonathan made sure to stand on his other side.

"She called us idiots," he replied as they followed Nancy out the door.

"That means she likes us," Steve said.

As they both led Steve down the hallway, Jonathan passed his mother coming out of Will's room.

"Will's asleep. Where are you three off to?" Joyce asked.

He could tell his mother was trying not to look too excited at the prospect of him making friends. He knew her too well for her to hide it from him. Jonathan rolled his eyes with a sigh.

"We're taking him to see the doctor," Jonathan said. "He can't hear out of his left ear."

"Oh, honey, do you need me to call your parents?" Joyce asked Steve.

"They're not going to care," Steve said.

"What?" Joyce asked, concerned.

"I mean, because they're just so busy with my father's conference, it'll seem like they don't care, but they totally do," Steve said quickly. "They're just so busy. I don't want to bother them."

Steve said it too fast for her not to be suspicious. They all looked at him.

"Well, if you're sure. . .," Joyce said, looking doubtfully at him.

"Oh, I'm sure," Steve said.

Joyce hugged Jonathan and squeezed the other's arms before walking away.

"Oh, she's definitely calling your parents," Jonathan said.

"Fuck, they're going to kill me," Steve said.

It didn't raise any alarm bells with Nancy, who just sighed at the mention of his father, but it did with Jonathan. He knew what to look for when someone was hiding their fear. He knew how strong a motivator fear was. He had lived with it, but now they all did. Jonathan had suspected as much earlier. He gently brushed his fingers up against Steve’s, letting him know he was there. Steve smiled softly at him. Nancy still lived in a bubble, a bubble he hoped was never popped, where she didn't know or couldn't see the signs of abuse at the hands of a parent. This was a trauma she could never understand, just like they couldn't know what it was like to lose your best friend the way that Nancy had. Although, Steve had a closer idea of it.

Steve had no qualms about taking Nancy's hand before giving Jonathan a look for a moment and taking his hand as they continued walking down the hallway. Jonathan felt his head buzzing, and his stomach grow warm as the feeling of Steve’s hand in his. He looked straight ahead. Everyone was too busy to wonder what it looked like. Jonathan cared. . .Yeah, he cared very much.

"Good news, Mr. Harrington!" The doctor had proclaimed. "It's not permanent."

The doctor had kept them waiting for a while, leaving a very awkward silence with them trying to look anyone else but at each other. No one knew what to say to fill the silence. There had been one reprieve when Steve had been taken away to get some scans. Though it had been less awkward with only Nancy, it was still pretty awkward, and Jonathan had no idea what to say to her. The awkward silence had grown when Steve was returned back to them. Finally, the doctor returned to the small room with the results.

"Well, that's good to hear, or rather half hear," Steve joked, and the doctor laughed.

Jonathan drowned out what the rest of what the doctor was saying, letting the sense of relief wash over him. Was it selfish of him to be so relieved that he didn't have to deal with the consequences of those actions? He was pretty sure that he would have carried that guilt with him until it ate at him like a cancer. He was also so relieved for Steve. . .although Steve definitely could have handled being deaf considering how graceful he was now and how much he had handled taking on the demogorgon. He bit his lip as he remembered the way that Steve had burst through the door and picked up the nail bat. Suddenly, a hand was waved in front of his face, and Steve was standing in front of him. The doctor had long since left. It was now only Nancy, Jonathan, and Steve left in the room.

"You can breathe now, Jonathan," Steve said with a crooked smile. "I told you that I'm fine."

"I'm glad you're okay," he said as he tried to avoid Steve’s eyes.

Steve tucked a finger up under his chin so Jonathan could look at him.

"What else were you afraid of?" Steve asked.

"That I'm a lot more like my father than I thought," Jonathan said.

"Would your father have been so guilty that he had thrown up?" Steve asked.

"No, and he wouldn't have even bothered with a fake apology," Jonathan said.

"See? You're nothing like your dad," Steve said.

He was still holding Jonathan's chin with his fingers. Blushing, Jonathan moved his head and nudged his cheek into Steve’s hand. Steve grinned as he rubbed his thumb over Jonathan's cheekbone.

"I am sorry for all of it," Jonathan whispered. "Not just for hitting you but for what happened with the camera."

He said the last part to both Steve and Nancy. Jonathan blushed at the soft way they both looked at him. Did they also know about him sneaking away earlier to throw up when he also thought about the pictures and the things he said to Nancy in the woods? About using her fear of turning into her parents against her? Jesus, how do Nancy and Steve know how to inflate their eyes like that? He suddenly realized how dangerous they were. He was pretty sure they could convince him to do anything now just by doing their eyes like that.

"My father never apologized to me or showed that he was even guilty for hurting me," Steve said. "I never want to be like him either. I think a part of him spilled out of me in that alleyway when I said those things. That's why I wanted you to keep hitting me."

Nancy's eyes widened, and she looked at Steve. She was starting to put it together why Steve was so afraid of his father. It wasn't just a thing that someone says.

"Yeah, there was this moment in the woods with Nancy where my father also reared his ugly head," Jonathan said.

"I guess we have a lot more in common than we thought," Steve said.

"I wish we could have become friends without having to know what that's like," Jonathan said. "I wish none of this had to happen."

Jonathan was surprised when Steve moved and pulled him into his arms. He froze for a moment before wrapping his arms around Steve’s waist, breathing in his scent.

"I guess we can't really change the past, only change how we deal with it," Steve said.

Jonathan wanted to hate himself for believing in the stereotype that all jocks are dumb.

"Steve," he whispered, prepared to make another apology.

"So, we're friends, huh?" Steve asked.

He could feel Steve’s lips right next to his ear, and Jonathan had to suck in a breath. He hoped Steve never let him go. Steve pulled him closer. Their bodies now flush tightly against against each other as they both shifted. Jonathan wrapped his arms around Steve’s shoulders, letting Steve’s arms fall to his waist. Jonathan pressed his nose into Steve’s neck, trying to breathe him in deeper. He wondered how lonely he had felt with a father like that? Did he also hope to one day find someone who understands him like Jonathan did?

Jonathan was very warm, and his heart was racing. It was too warm in here. With his face still tucked into Steve’s face, Jonathan moved his arms away to tug off his jacket and let it fall to the floor. He moved his arms back around Steve. He grabbed the back of Steve’s sweater, bunching it up in his hands and pulling it up until his hands made contact with his skin. Steve’s hands slipped up under his shirt, causing Jonathan to gasp when his hands made contact with Jonathan's skin. Jonathan's lips brushed up against Steve’s neck before moving to brush up against his ear, placing a delicate kiss there. Nancy let out a loud breathy gasp.

They jumped apart rather quickly, remembering that she was in the room. Jesus, it was like they had tried to crawl inside of each other. Suddenly, Jonathan remembered when they had rolled around in the alleyway. Jonathan had gotten on top of him, his leg sliding between Steve’s leg. . .his knee had inadvertently brushed up against his. . . Judging by the way Steve blushed and the way he looked at Jonathan's legs, he remembered it too.

"Sorry," Steve and Jonathan said in unison.

"Don't be. It seems like you really needed that. . .hug," Nancy smirked, her face red.

Jonathan wanted to change the subject to anything else. God, was his heart pounding in his ears?

"I, uh, really meant it. I'm sorry for taking those pictures. I wish I could take it back," Jonathan said. "You have every right to get mad at me, and I shouldn't have gotten so defensive about it. I just - "

" - tried so hard not to be like your father that you did any way?" Nancy asked.

"Yeah," he said meekly.

"Well, you're a thousand times off to a better start than he will ever be," Nancy said. "Neither one of you are like your fathers. It's all about perspective, especially when we faced the demogorgon together. I forgave the both of you in that moment. Jonathan, you took on a monster from another dimension for your brother, and Steve, you went back into the house when you could have run to safety. In the long run, it doesn't matter as much anymore. We came out of it alive. I forgive both of you."

"I spent so long just trying to pretend like nothing hurt and hid all my pain behind the facade of King Steve. Doing nothing was better than feeling all the hurt that my parents left behind," Steve said. "If we're being honest here. . ."

"Yes, please," Nancy said.

"You two have shown me a better way of living," he said. "You showed me what was truly important and what people should do for the people they care about. My parents. . .Tommy and Carol, they showed me what not to do. They only ever cared about what I could do for their image. You two are more real than they've ever been. I want real. I don't want to run away from that anymore."

Jonathan and Nancy shared a look before smiling at Steve. They hugged him tightly. Yes, this felt right, being in their arms. Jonathan was staring to feel the same warmth that he had felt with Steve just a moment ago. It was building up. Jonathan pulled back with Nancy and Steve, their arms still around each other. The three of them were gazing at each other in a way that Jonathan felt should be weird, but it wasn't. Jonathan gazed at Steve's lips then at Nancy's, trying to decide. He could feel them do the same. His heartbeat was growing louder in his ears. This was it. No turning back. They were just leaning in when the door burst open. They sprang apart. The three of them ran out of the room before they could be questioned, Jonathan grabbing his jacket on the way out. They found themselves in Will's room, looking over him while he slept. It gave them an excuse not to talk about what just happened. Well, Steve just had to say something.

"So," he whispered. "I'm not crazy. There was something there, right?"

"I mean, you're definitely crazy but not for that," Jonathan whispered back.

"Hm, cute and funny. You're the complete package," Steve teased.

"I definitely feel something, but my head is still spinning from all of this," Nancy said. "Especially with Barb gone."

"Yeah, I'm sorry. I just thought we should be honest. Whatever you need from us, we're here for you," Steve said.

"As much as I want to throw caution to the wind and respond to my very carnal desires," she whispered and rolled her eyes affectionately when they grinned. "I am not in the right headspace for any major decision-making right now since we're all being honest with each other right now. . .if you two want to go ahead. . ."

Nancy was leaning against the wall in between them both. Jonathan looked at Steve over Nancy's head. They had a short conversation with their eyes.

"No, uh, I think we both want you there," Jonathan said.

"I just don't want anyone to feel like I stopped them from being together," Nancy whispered.

"Nance, you're the reason we're here now. We wouldn't have become friends if it wasn't for you. I mean, maybe it would have eventually happened but it would have taken a lot longer without you," Steve said.

"It just makes sense that our first time together should also be with you," Jonathan said.

"Whenever you're ready, we're ready," Steve said. "You're worth the wait, Nancy Wheeler."

"So. . .just friends for now?" She asked, smiling.

"For now," Steve and Jonathan agreed with soft smiles.

"So, did you ever think you'd want to be with a guy?" Steve whispered to Jonathan.

"I actually always assumed it was just guys until Nancy came along," Jonathan said.

"That's funny. For me, I always thought it was just girls until you came along," Steve said and flashed him a crooked smile.

"Funny how things work out," Nancy smiled softly.

Jonathan worried for a moment that they had been too loud when Will woke up suddenly.

"I'm hungry," Will said.

"I'll go get your mom," Steve said. "I'm pretty sure she's probably still filling up my parents' machine."

"Wait," Will said in confusion. "Are you three friends now?"

"Yeah, nothing like fighting a monster from another world to really bring you together," Steve grinned.

Will laughed, and it warmed Jonathan's heart to see Will light up with Steve. He groaned internally. Just friends. For now. It was going to be tougher than he thought it would be. Just friends, just friends, just friends. . .

"Ooh! A lucky penny!" Steve exclaimed and bent over.

Jonathan and Nancy both groaned.

[johnnyutah]

i finally finished this old wip for @stonathanweek (and coincidentally also @stoncyweek2023!)

prompts: canon-verse (day 5), long distance relationship (day 7) summary: Steve comes up with an awesome plan to make Nancy jealous. It backfires in the best way. rating: explicit ships: stonathan, stoncy, established jonathan/nancy, past steve/nancy (and future? 😳) steve and robin being best bros word count: 5660 content info: drinking, phone sex, miscommunication, smut & feelings, pre-polyamory, set before season 4

Also on AO3!

The front door of Family Video slams shut on yet another failed attempt at flirting, and Steve’s head falls into his hands yet a-fuckin-gain. “This is it, Robin,” he declares, elbows digging into the cheap melamine counter and fingertips digging into his temples just above his furrowed brows. “This is it. We’ve got no prospects.”

“That isn’t true,” Robin, the light of his life, tells him, soft and kind-hearted as ever. She pats his shoulder and goes on to correct him, “You’ve got no prospects. I’m just in the wrong city for love; you’re on the wrong planet.”

“The wrong p— you’re a real asshole, you know that?” Steve glances up from between his fingers just to check that she knows that. Robin’s sweet smile doesn’t falter for a moment, confirming her own theory. He’s sure that if they did live in another place, or perhaps another time, Robin could have a girlfriend in no time at all. Steve, however, is doomed. “What am I supposed to do with that, huh? I can’t exactly set off to Mars.”

“You could try changing it up,” Robin suggests. It’s the third time this week she’s suggested that he change. He’s starting to feel like she might mean it. “Instead of ‘ahoy, ladies’…”

She scrunches up her nose, thinking. Steve rests his chin on his knuckles and watches her. “Ahoy… fellas?”

“Ha-ha.” Robin pushes his shoulder again, this time not to comfort but to chastise. “I meant maybe coming up with a different approach.”

“I don’t do the Scoops routine anymore.”

“Right, you’ve switched to local video store geek recommending all your favorite flicks.”

“Geek! I’m not a geek! What about this,” Steve gestures up and down his body with broad, sweeping motions that draw out a flurry of giggles from Robin, “says geek?!”

“Like, all of it,” she laughs. “Every part of it. The hair? Dork. The smile? Total nerd smile— see, look, you’re offended but you’re smiling!”

Through his not-smile, Steve hisses, “What am I supposed to do about my smile? I’m freaking screwed!”

“Calm down, you’ll be fine!” It’s hard to take Robin’s consolation seriously as she struggles not to laugh. Some consternation must show on his face as she finally relents, wiping an eye dry before leaning away, and repeating, “You’ll be fine. You’ve got plenty of time to work out the new Harrington act anyway, and in the meantime, you’ve got good friends who look out for you.”

“I thought you said Dustin and the gang were annoying little kids.”

“God, I meant me, you dick!” This time he’s ready for the blow to his shoulder and he dodges it effortlessly, ducking under the slap and then swatting it away. It’s a good thing Keith left right away after his morning shift, as he hates when they squabble like this in the front end of the store. Not that there are any customers. Steve has apparently frightened them all away with his utter and total lack of charisma. Fantastic.

After he loses— quite badly, really, Robin, where was this killer physique and athleticism when they were being held hostage by enemies of the state— and they resume their work, Steve doesn’t put up much of a pretense of actually working, far too distracted by his foreboding future. The loneliness gnaws at him deeply, scraping down to his marrow until he starts fidgeting, uncomfortable with his own turbulent emotion.

Robin hadn’t meant it, and god knows she’s got it worse than he does, but… it does suck, not having someone and not seeming able to find anyone. Even when things were bad with Nancy there had still been things. And before her, when Tommy and Carol had dragged him to each and every party like a prized stud ready for the auction, he had felt wanted. He can’t remember when he last felt wanted.

Before he can voice this pathetic thought to Robin, she sighs, taking obvious pity on him. “You have any plans tonight?”

“Take a wild guess,” Steve grumbles.

Unaffected, she continues, “Sooo… my parents went to this big Christmas party last weekend, and they brought home these two huge gift baskets they apparently won in some raffle. And one of the baskets had some bourbon, and, um, I don’t really know anything about drinking, so, I… uh, I brought it, and I thought maybe it’d be fun if we. Drank it.”

Steve twists to stare at her incredulously. No part of the story makes even a lick of sense— what kind of parents let their eighteen-year-old daughter drink liquor freely? What kind of parents bring gifts home without occasion or cause? Who throws a Christmas party in January? Baffled, he echoes, “You brought it?”

“I brought it,” Robin confirms.

“In… what, in your backpack?”

“Yeah, in my backpack.” Both of them glance at the staff area, and she says, “What, you don’t want to? If you don’t want to, it’s—”

“Hold on, they just let you have it?”

“They don’t drink.”

“Well… what kind of bourbon is it?”

“I have no clue, doofus. I don’t drink.”

“Never?”

“I’ve never had anyone to drink with.” This confession lingers in the air for a heavy moment— not necessarily a bad one, but it weighs them both down, together. Then Robin coughs, and changes tack, “What types of bourbon are there?”

Steve doesn’t actually know. He’s not sure that he’s actually ever tried bourbon. It sounds both quaintly Southern and exorbitant, but the likely high price tag only adds to the allure. “Alright, we’ll just have to make sure we don’t leave anything for Keith to catch onto us. Guy would flip his freaking lid. But… we could try a glass, or two.”

“Neat,” Robin grins, eyes practically sparkling. “Yeah, I probably won’t have more than a sip.”

--

Steve sits— well, crashes— down onto the counter beside Robin. His legs dangle over the edge, while she keeps hers crossed. “I think I lost my voice,” he tells her, and in response she passes— well, slams— the bottle into his hand. “No, Robin, I’m serious, I think I sang too hard.”

“They’re making another one of these.” She points, and Steve follows her gaze to the TV set up in the corner over Comedies and International, which is currently playing The Evil Dead, but set to the soundtrack of the album Steve has been blasting over the Family Video intercom. “With the same director and everything. I bet it’ll be terrible; sequels always are.”

“Not true,” croaks Steve. He drinks the bourbon. It tastes a little better with every sip, although it still mostly tastes like he’s hiding in a cleaning closet and drinking heavy acid instead of hanging out with his friend and drinking actual good liquor. If this is good liquor, he thinks he’ll stick to cheap beer. “Dawn of the Dead.”

“Remake, not a sequel.”

“No way, it’s a sequel.” Steve passes the bottle back, massaging his throat. “Zombies and shit.” AC/DC comes to the end of howling ‘Back in Black’, thank God, no more falsetto— and the tape switches to ‘You Shook Me All Night Long’. He starts tapping his heels against the counter to the rhythm. 

On screen, Ash’s buddy Scotty shoves one of the zombified girls away with an ax. Robin watches. Steve grimaces. Scotty swears his head off on mute. Brian Johnson wails, “She was the best damn woman that I ever seen!”

“I love women,” Robin sighs, deep and emotional.

“Me too,” agrees Steve fervently.

“And I don’t hate bourbon.”

“Me either.” He reaches for the bottle and she takes a sip before sharing; it burns when it hits his already scratchy throat. Scotty locks the zombie in the basement. Robin reaches back for the bottle. The confession squeezes out before Steve can think any better of it: “I miss Nancy.”

“Oh my god.”

“I mean it—”

“I know you do—”

“I love her, Robin.”

“Oh My God.”

“Listen,” Steve says, hopping off the counter with grace and precision. He completely misjudges the distance between them and the floor, and ends up crash-landing hard; but at least he doesn’t fall over. Robin laughs harder than she needs to as he steadies himself. “Listen. She was my best damn… the best girlfriend that I’ve ever had. And I was so stupid to her. And she left me.”

“I thought she left because she didn’t have feelings for you anymore.”

“Could you just—” Steve flails for a moment, trying not to throttle his best friend and also trying to sort through his drunk thoughts to find the words he needs. “Yes. Okay. That may be true. But feelings come and go!”

“Fine,” says Robin reluctantly. “But, and I hate to put a damper on your drunken dreams of winning her back, but! In this case, Nancy has already moved on to someone else… right?”

Steve snaps his fingers. Jonathan— of course! That’s why that stupid horror movie seemed so familiar; he remembers seeing the freaky poster hung up in Jonathan’s room from when he and Nancy and Jonathan had fought off the Demogorgon the first time around. Steve hasn’t thought about Jonathan in a while, which seems odd given that he used to waste so much time thinking about the guy. Even before their team-up— actually, especially before they had teamed up, he had a penchant for watching the weird Byers kid. “Right,” he exclaims. “Yeah, yes! She’s moved on!”

“So,” says Robin, with the patience of a schoolteacher. “Don’t you think it’s time that you move on too?”

“Totally,” he agrees, catching her off-guard. “Yes. I’m gonna make her so jealous.”

When he looks over, Robin is fully chugging the bourbon. Steve snatches the bottle away, laughing somewhat maniacally— except not at all, this is awesome, he has a totally awesome plan.

Step one is get on the work computer and misuse his employee privilege as a Family Video store clerk. When he fails to type in his password correctly a third time, Robin sighs, finally hopping down from the counter. “I want it on record that this is a bad idea,” she declares, typing in her password anyway before heading to the back room. Steve takes advantage of her absence to quickly scan through their alphabetized account list. Thankfully Byers, J. is close to the top. 

He scrawls the phone number down on the back of an empty receipt as Robin closes down the store— beginning with the music, then the lights. They are left alone with only the computer, which Steve quickly shuts off, and the television, which Robin misplaced the remote for. Neither of them can find it in the dark and so they leave Ash and friends to face their inevitable demise at the hands of the zombie demons. It won’t be the worst close they’ve ever done, and Steve refuses to believe that Keith’s opinion of him could sink any lower.

Robin grabs the nearly empty bottle, shoving it into her backpack. Steve grabs his jacket, pulling it on with a wince as they step out of the store into the January night air. “It’s too cold to drive, and I’m too drunk to walk,” says Robin, arms already tightly folded over her chest but teeth not quite chattering yet. “I mean… no, wait, maybe that is what I mean.”

“I got this,” Steve assures her. It’s then that Robin notices the receipt, and lunges for it. Maybe if Steve had full control of his faculties he would be able to hold it out of her reach. She snatches the paper and Steve moans, “Aw, c’mon, give it back! You’re messing up my whole plan!”

“Your plan to get back with your ex by making her jealous? Oh my god, you’re serious.” Robin laughs, shoving the receipt back at him. Her grin is too wide and goofy to cause any real hurt, especially when her eyes crinkle up in the corners and she teases, “Look at that, Harrington! You finally got a girl’s number.”

Steve, smiling back, doesn’t correct her.

--

The only cab in Hawkins surely isn’t the only cab in Hawkins, but it feels that way as they drive down the otherwise dormant city streets. Most people, Steve reckons, don’t stay up late drinking with their coworkers on a cold weeknight in January. Or if they do, they probably go to a bar close to their office downtown, or even a nightclub.

In the backseat of the only cab in Hawkins, Steve and Robin lean against each other like siblings on a road trip, slouched together thanks to the late hour and all the drinking. He’s sure they smell like shit but they feel amazing, smacking each other’s arms to point out passing landmarks or giggling about the music on the radio. The driver hasn’t commented, leaving them to their own devices as they joke about how they feel like New Yorkers, or like superstars. 

The taxi drops Robin off outside her home first, and she leans over to give Steve a bourbon-soaked hug. He relishes in it, trying to remember the last time he got a hug from anyone. Hell, it was probably Robin, and before that, he has no clue. Dustin has been busy with his new Dungeons and Dragons group, and Lucas and Mike were never big on hugs anyway. So he hugs back, still laughing at Robin’s terrible Bronx accent, and as he does she whispers, “You got this, dingus.”

“Thanks,” Steve whispers back, feeling tipsy and joyful and supported— until he realizes that she meant he’s the one on the hook for paying the taxi driver. He settles back into his own seat to sulk.

On the radio, REO Speedwagon choruses, “I’ve forgotten what I started fighting for; it’s time to bring this ship into the shore, and throw away the oars, forever…” and the driver hums along.

Steve’s hand finds its way into his jacket pocket, where his fist closes around Jonathan’s number.

--

“Hey,” Steve nearly sings, as soon as the call goes through. “Hi. Sorry, I— I know it’s late,” which is technically true, even if he has no idea what time it actually is. But based on the moonlight streaming through the window in the kitchen, he’s breaking several social rules. “I just… It’s, um, it’s Steve. Harrington, in case, uh, you know any other Steves…?”

A woman answers. The receiver slips right out of Steve’s hands and he curses modern, cordless technology, fumbling to grab it before he drops the phone, or worse, the call. “… afraid I don’t know any Steves at all. Can I help you, young man?”

“Oh, shit.” The woman inhales sharply, and Steve’s mind supplements an image of Byers, Joyce. Shit. Of course. “I’m sorry, uh, I’m calling for Jonathan? If he’s even home?”

Sounding much less friendly, the woman pauses. “I don’t know who you mean, but this is a new number. If you’re trying to reach the Byers family—”

“Yes, exactly, yeah, Jonathan Byers—”

“They don’t live here anymore.” Steve crumples up the paper and tosses it, furiously, into the sink. “I have their forwarding number, if it’s very important…?”

“It’s urgent,” Steve assures her, scrambling to find something to write on. He ends up grabbing his father’s fountain pen and writing Jonathan’s new number painfully across the back of his hand.

After apologizing and wishing the wrong number a good night, Steve stares at those messy, ink-blotted digits. Before he can give himself cold feet, he dials the number; he doesn’t breathe once the whole time it rings.

The line picks up again. This time Steve is more cognizant that it might be Joyce, or even worse, Will— the kid would definitely recognize his voice, and while Steve is sure that Jonathan’s impossibly kind younger brother would support him in this late-night endeavor, he’s also sure that Mike Wheeler would definitely hear about it. Which would ruin the entire scheme, of course.

The scheme, which seemed so infallible back at Family Video, swims and wavers in his head now. Steve tries to go through the plan point by point, but it all falls to pieces when a groggy, familiar voice says through the receiver, “Hello?”

“Hey,” Steve says. He leans against the kitchen island, exhaling all the air in his lungs. “Hi. It’s Steve. … Harrington.”

“I only know one Steve,” Jonathan says, dry as a desert. Steve smiles nervously. “Why are you calling? Is something wrong?”

“No, no, all quiet on the Western front.” This nets him a chuckle from Jonathan, so he soldiers on: “I was just wondering, you know, uh… if you wanted to come over?”

Puzzled, Jonathan asks bluntly, “What? Why?”

“I was thinking about you,” says Steve, leaning into it hard. He has charisma, or at least, he once did— he knows how to do this part. “Thinking maybe you could come over and we could fool around.”

Nobody has ever hung up so fast.

Steve stares at the dead phone in his hand. He wonders about the vicious gossip that he’d heard back in high school about Jonathan Byers, that he was more than just weird and a loner. Maybe those rumors really were nothing but rumors spread by small-minded townies. Steve’s parents aren’t home. It would be so easy for him to break into his father’s liquor cabinet. He could probably knock himself out within the hour, and sleep off this whole bad idea. He could laugh about it with Robin tomorrow night at work— I wanted to do what last night? I got some girl’s phone number out of the system? Man, no, I went straight home and went to bed. On an unrelated topic, I need to update the contact information on the Byers file.

Steve presses the redial button.

It rings for a little longer this time, and he can just picture Jonathan deciding whether or not to pick up, leaning over his own kitchen counter with a vein jumping out of his forehead behind his messy, home-cut bangs. Sure enough, when the call does get picked up, Jonathan sounds even more stressed than usual. He demands, “Is this a joke?”

If he’s wrong, and Jonathan’s not that type of person, and he tells Nancy… Steve shakes off the doomed train of thought. “No,” he says, firmly. “Not a joke.” 

Jonathan swears softly, so soft that Steve was sure he wasn’t meant to hear it, then: “Are you drunk?”

“Well, yeah,” he admits. Jonathan sighs loud enough to nearly blow the speaker. “What about you?”

“No.” A pause. “I think I should probably be a lot less sober for this.”

“That’s the spirit,” Steve cheers. “Where are you? Can you come over?”

Just as he’s starting to get butterflies, Jonathan cuts through the excitement with a deadpan, “California.”

“California?” He squints at the number on his hand. Is eight-one-eight the area code for California? “What the fuck? Is Nancy there with you?”

“Um.” A very pregnant pause. “No?”

“What… are you… Are you on vacation?”

Once more, Jonathan sighs. “What do you want, Steve?”

“I told you,” he replies, and even to his own ears he sounds bitchy. He adjusts, softening his tone a bit. “Just wanna make you feel good, Jonathan. I’ve been thinking about it.”

“You haven’t exactly kept in touch,” Jonathan retorts, although his voice sounds different now. Steve listens keenly but he can’t hear anything else on the line except the complaining. “I mean, you thought I still lived in Hawkins, and I’ve been gone this whole school year.”

“Well, we’re not exactly friends,” Steve parrots back. That shuts the other boy up alright. “Doesn’t mean I don’t think about you.”

“Steve—”

“Even tonight, hanging out with a friend, I was thinking about you. Should’ve been thinking about girls. I was thinking about you.” Steve frowns. “You and stupid Ashley Williams.”

“Listen,” tries Jonathan. “You’re just drunk—”

“Even back when we were in school together I would think about you,” he admits, low. “Why do you think I gave you such a hard time? I heard what everyone said about you. Couldn’t get it out of my head. It wasn’t the first time I heard that someone could be… like that, but it was the first time I saw a boy and thought that I might be like that.”

What had the scheme been again? Call Nancy Wheeler’s queer boyfriend, rile him up a little? Get him to tell Nancy about it and make her all jealous? What is his endgame here, because only boys who like boys talk to boys about the things he’s talking to Jonathan about right now— and Jonathan isn’t even really reciprocating.

The soft breath is the only sign of life from California. Steve closes his eyes, swaying against the kitchen counter. “And I was so, so fucking stupid back then. That’s how I lost Nance, and that’s how come I treated you like… just like garbage. I broke your stupid camera, and I pushed you around, and when people gave you a hard time I didn’t say shit. I basically made your life hell.”

“You bought me a new camera,” says Jonathan quietly.

“Aw, c’mon, Nance.” Steve grimaces. “That was supposed to be a secret.”

“And I wasn’t the best person back then either. I mean, I can’t think about how I acted in junior high without dying a little bit on the inside. But… um… doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate it,” Jonathan tells him, in that same quiet voice. Steve wonders if he’s trying to stay quiet so he doesn’t wake up his family. Even when Jonathan had repulsed Steve, he’d always been secretly jealous of the closeness of the Byers clan. “And… uh, all that stuff you said, um… I used to think about it too. About… you and Nancy, mostly. It was wrong, I know, and—”

Steve interrupts, “Was it?” He sounds as wild as he feels. “Was it wrong?”

“Um…”

“You home alone, Jonathan?”

“I, uh.” Now there is a rustling on the other side of the line. “Will and El are at a sleepover camp thing for school, and my mom’s working nights this week at this temporary… um… Are we really— I mean, are you really…”

Steve hums. “I’m home alone. Didn’t even ask where my parents are, and they didn’t volunteer the information. But it means I’ve got this big place all to myself.”

Shallowly, Jonathan sucks in air. “Where are you?”

“The kitchen.”

That shocks a surprised laugh out of the other boy, which in turn makes Steve smile bashfully. “You can’t— you can’t have phone sex in the kitchen,” he scolds Steve. “People make food in there! Go to your bedroom, you fucking freak.”

“Look who’s suddenly an expert on phone sex,” Steve teases.

He goes anyway, heading slowly and normally towards the second floor until Jonathan casually drops, “Well, I have been in a long-distance relationship since September.”

Steve trips up the stairs, dropping the phone for the second time tonight. When he picks it up Jonathan is still there, breathing just as softly. Steve takes the rest of the stairs four at a time. He lunges for his bed and collapses there like a dead weight, still wearing his work clothes. Shit, he’s still wearing his shoes. He hears soft laughter coming down the line and, embarrassed about his heavy breathing, demands hotly, “You and Nancy have phone sex?”

“It would be pretty hard to have any other kind of sex two thousand miles apart.” That dry humor is doing terrible, insane things to his body right now. Steve chews his lip, closes his eyes, and fumbles with the button on his jeans. “So you get pretty good at discussing, and imagining. And waiting.”

“The first two sound alright.”

“Waiting can be fun too,” Jonathan tells him gently; his voice is so soft and low that Steve doesn’t realize he’s being seduced until his pulse has already risen. “But, yeah, talking is Nancy’s big thing. … I’m sure you remember that.”

Steve makes a face, giving up on his zipper. What he remembers about his sex life with Nancy is mostly too sad to dwell on, except during his most pathetic, embarrassing shower sessions and wet dreams. Things were good between them, of course— she’s the most beautiful woman on the planet— but after that pivotal time at the party, in this very bedroom, things were never the same. Sex with Steve had begun to remind Nancy of her dead friend, which would have been a mood-killer for Clark and Lois. Really, he shouldn’t have been surprised when she dumped his ass for Jonathan.

“What about this?” Steve imagines that Jonathan is right next to him on the bed instead of two thousand miles away. He turns his head to face the other pillow, but his eyes stay firmly closed. “Shouldn’t you… talk to Nancy about this?”

Once again, Jonathan effortlessly flips his world upside down with a sentence: “We did.” He sounds almost amused. “That’s why I hung up on you. I freaked out, and called her.”

Steve sits up so fast his head spins. “You called her? You— what did you tell her?”

“I told her you were drunk and trying to hook up with me,” says Jonathan, like it’s not a big deal at all. “And then her mother kicked her off the phone and chewed me out for calling the house so late.”

“But,” splutters Steve, “what did Nancy say?”

“She was really excited,” Jonathan admits. Steve, himself, is really excited— in fact, he thinks he might throw up for reasons entirely unrelated to the consumption of alcohol. “She asked for details, and I said I’d let her know if you called back. Then Mrs. Wheeler got on the line.”

He stares at the empty walls of his room, desperately trying to make sense of what Jonathan is telling him. “She wasn’t mad?”

“She was furious. Kept going on about time zones and all that shit.”

“Jonathan, I mean Nancy.”

“Steve, I know. I’m just teasing. You sound so tense.” Steve wonders how any man could feel relaxed while hearing this information. “Yeah, she was excited, and… a little nervous; she warned me it might have been a prank or something, but then I said ‘what if it’s not’, and she said ‘well, if it’s not, then obviously’… yeah.”

Steve gapes. “Obviously?”

“Yeah,” Jonathan echoes. “And asked for details.”

“Makes sense,” he says, weakly. “She’s a great reporter.”

“So, details.” Jonathan’s voice sinks down again, and Steve mirrors the change in tone, lying back down. He’s still reeling from the news that his plot to make Nancy jealous has been found dead in the water, and instead it seems that Jonathan and Nancy have machinations of their own. “Did you listen to what I said?”

“About Nancy?”

“About leaving the kitchen. Where are you now, Steve?”

“Oh. The— my bed.”

Jonathan exhales, “Good,” and Steve starts to melt. “And what are you doing right now in your bed?”

“Taking my shoes off,” he answers honestly, which startles another laugh out of Jonathan.

“That’s… a good place to start, I guess. How drunk are you, man?”

“I just feel… I don’t know. I feel good.” Keeping up the honesty is probably a good bet. “I like that you told Nancy. I like that she… likes the idea. She’s thinking about it, maybe.”

The line is silent, but live with Jonathan’s breathing. Steve’s chest rises and falls in sync. “Thinking about what, exactly?”

Right. Details. “This isn’t what I’d pictured,” Steve tells him. “I never imagined you out in California. In my head, you’re still the same scrawny, skinny kid forever stuck in Hawkins. Doesn’t make sense, you living so far away. Do you have a tan now?”

“Not really,” he admits, sounding sheepish. “I look pretty much the same. Taller, maybe.”

“I doubt it. Bet you’re still small enough for me to pick you up, toss you around.”

“You could try it,” Jonathan huffs.

“Bet you’re used to taking the lead with Nancy,” Steve continues, closing his eyes again. He kicks off his other shoe. “You ever been with someone bigger than you? I mean, someone who could really put you where they wanted?”

“You’re not so big,” says Jonathan. He sounds uncertain— it sends goosebumps down Steve’s arms. “Where would you want to put me?”

“I’d like to pin you down and watch your face as I get you off.” The reaction is immediate— the bitten-off gasp is a sound Steve will treasure forever. “I would want you in my bed, in my car… I don’t know. Everywhere. I’d want you to ride me.”

“Jesus.”

“I’d ride you too,” Steve hastens to add. “I’m not totally unfair.”

Jonathan makes a noise somewhere between a cough and a whimper.

“I used to think about making you suck me off, back when I was still kind of learning what blowjobs were and so they were pretty much all I could ever think about. You have a really pretty mouth,” he goes on even as Jonathan’s breath hitches, “and I think you would look good on your knees.”

“I do,” Jonathan says. “I mean, I would, I— Nancy tells me all the time.”

“What, you suck her off?” Steve laughs, except the noise kind of dies in his throat because Jonathan doesn’t laugh too. He puts the phone down, suddenly desperate to be free of his clothing. Throwing his work vest and shirt towards the dresser, followed by his jeans and briefs, he lies back down and repeats his question. “You go down on her?”

“Of course,” says Jonathan, kind and sweet and kind of dirty. Steve shuffles around until he’s comfortable under the blankets, and he can hold the phone in one hand and his dick in the other. He would usually grab lotion from his bedside table, maybe stop at a non-family video store on the way home from work to pick up a tape. Right now he doesn’t need any of that; he’s too close just from the sound of Jonathan’s voice. “I could do that for you too. I never thought it was something you’d want.”

“Well, you know what they say, Byers.” Steve palms himself, fucking in and out of his fist slowly. It’s too hot, too sensitive, too intimate. He clenches, his muscles tightening as he thinks about Jonathan doing the same. “If you scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours.”

Sure enough, there’s a quiet noise other than Jonathan’s voice. The connection isn’t clear enough for him to hear everything, but he can connect the dots. Jonathan says, still sounding strangled, “Did you manage to get your shoes off?”

“Yeah, now I’m working on getting my rocks off.”

A groan, low and a second too long. “Ugh. Nancy could’ve warned me you liked to tell jokes in bed.”

“What, am I not cool enough for you, California? Should I, like, tone it down, brochacho?”

“You’re kidding, but I do actually have a friend out here who sounds exactly like that.” Steve speeds up, his hips thrusting forward in small, jerky movements as Jonathan talks. God, he’s in so much trouble if he’s just getting off to the sound of the guy’s voice. He twists his wrist for a better angle as Jonathan continues, “You’re plenty cool enough for me, Indiana.”

“Hey, you’re Indiana too,” Steve reminds him. “God, I’m so— can you do more of the phone sex stuff?”

“Who says this isn’t the phone sex stuff? Maybe two guys jerking off together, talking about the state they grew up in is high-quality phone sex,” Jonathan teases. Now who’s telling jokes in bed? “You want me to give you the serious script, Harrington?”

“I want you to stop fucking around and put me on loudspeaker,” Steve gasps.

For a beat, Jonathan is silent. Then he does; the audio quality is slightly different, and Steve can more clearly hear skin-on-skin. Jonathan picks up the pace and Steve matches his rhythm, groaning through grinding teeth. When Jonathan speaks, he sounds nervous now. “Better?”

“Almost,” Steve says. “I want you to touch yourself. Keep touching yourself, the way you do when you do this with your girlfriend.” Jonathan’s breath hitches, and the sounds pick up— they are filthy in the best way. Steve is beyond glad they’re both home alone. His legs shake as he keeps going. “Except it’s different, right? When Nancy gets off she seizes up, right, like her whole body goes tight. With us, it’s different, and I want to hear you, wanna hear every part of it. I want you to ruin those fucking sheets.”

“Fuck,” gasps Jonathan. Steve tightens his grip too. “I wish—” and then before he can deliver that wish, he’s grunting, loud and primal and unmistakably masculine, as he comes all over himself. Steve can just picture it, those nimble, pale fingers wrapped around his dick— except he doesn’t exactly know what Jonathan’s dick looks like, so he has to make do with thinking about his own. And right as he’s about to sail over the edge, Jonathan breathes, “I bet Nancy’s getting off right now too.”

Well. It’s embarrassing how instantaneous Steve’s orgasm is after he hears that.

After all the discussing and imagining, as Jonathan had called it, they both come down slowly and in shared, comfortable silence. Steve sinks back down to sober, cold Earth like a fluttering leaf, and even after the reality of what just happened hits him he still doesn’t feel ready to accept it. The hard, unflinching truth is that Steve feels better right now than he ever has after sex, and Jonathan isn’t even here. He thinks he almost feels better right now than he ever has in his entire life. Uh oh.

“So,” Steve finally breaks the quiet post-orgasm haze lingering between them. “Are you coming home for spring break?”

[heavencasteel420]

I was feeling a bit stuck on my main WIPs, so for fun I wrote a couple of lines/paragraphs for each of my other story ideas (the proper ones where I have a general sense of the story's shape, not the shitpost ideas like "Chrissy turns into a car?"). Here are the ones for my Cute/Normal story ideas:

Long

Nancy Wheeler Can't Win (no UD AU, Nancy-centric)

Sometimes, Nancy thought her life would be easier if she were dating Jason Carver instead. Not better, necessarily. She didn't like Jason nearly as much as Steve; he was kind of pompous and, although he technically looked way more like Tom Cruise, she couldn't imagine ever finding him as sexy as she did Steve. She couldn't help but notice, though, that Chrissy Cunningham didn't have to be one person on Saturday night and another on Monday morning.

Life During Wartime (companion to above, centers on Will and Jonathan)

"I can't believe I'll be the last one to get girlfriend," Mike lamented as he and Will biked home from school. It was a perfect September afternoon, neither too hot nor too cold, and the first leaves were turning yellow. "First Lucas and Max, then Dustin and Suzie, now you and Megan. I'm going to die a virgin."

"We could all still die virgins," Will pointed out. "I don't think Lucas and Max are doing it yet, and Megan and I definitely aren't. And we're not even sure if Suzie is real."

Horse Girl (Stoncy, summer 1985)

The thing about being an asshole, Steve thought, as he listlessly scooped butter pecan ice cream for a couple of sixty-something ladies, was that it took a long time to catch up with you. For instance: the thing he'd spray-painted on the theater marquee about Nancy almost two years ago. Sitting on the hood of his car outside the 7-11, he'd resigned himself to her shunning him forever. He'd even gone to apologize to Jonathan first so he could put off seeing the cold disgust on her face. Then, one month later, she'd taken him back, accepting his apology as a matter of course. Maybe that should've been his first clue that something was wrong.

It's All a State of Mind (AU where Hopper-Byers siblings are psychic carnies/confidence artists in the 1930s)

"Heather likes you," El pointed out a few days later, after they'd settled in. They were in the dining tent, digging into some beef stew. "You could get close to her."

"Keep eating and forget what Murray said," Jonathan told her, although he couldn't summon any harshness to back it up. This was the best meal that he or the kids had eaten in months. "Heather puts up with me. She doesn't want to get close to anyone, either."

Heather Holloway was an aerialist, a pert dark-haired girl who'd joined the circus to get away from a home in some ways worse than the one that Lonnie had provided him and Will. She was friendly to Jonathan, but that was probably because he'd shown no interest in getting inside her drawers.

"So you admit it," Will said smugly. "We wouldn't mind if you got married, you know. So long as we liked her.

From the High to the Low to the End of the Show (S1 AU where the teens are in their late twenties)

"Doesn't it piss you off?" Fred asked her. "That he can just waltz in and get a job because he's 'so talented,' when the rest of us had to work hard and do it the right way?" "Eyes on your own paper, Fred," Nancy said, in a chipper tone that she knew would annoy him. She agreed with him, to a point; she never would have been hired at the Hawkins Post if she'd gone to night school instead of IU. At the same time, she'd heard the other guys say that she'd only gotten the job out of pity. Fred wasn't one of them, but she was running on three hours of sleep an half a bagel, so she didn't feel like being nice. "Why would Holloway care about college? Byers has something he wants and he's willing to pay for it."

Medium

Tomorrow May Not Be Your Day (pre-S4 Jancy breakup, probably no Vecna, eventual Jargyle)

"I'm sure you'll work it out," Mom says. She smiles at him anxiously, and he knows what he should do. He should mumble agreement, accept this bit of comfort. Pay her back with white lies of his own: that the distance isn't really a problem, that she didn't kind of screw him over by moving them all across the country. That there's no reason to worry about him, because he's going to figure things out with Nancy and somehow make Emerson happen. "Yeah?" he asks instead. "What if I don't? What if this is it?" It doesn't come out as a plea for reassurance, either. That would be humiliating, maybe even futile, but at least everyone would understand what he was doing. Instead, it comes out as a challenge.

Let the Broken Hearts Stand (companion to above, Nancy's first year at college, eventual Nancy/Carol)

"Look, I was friends with Steve for, like, ten years before he ditched me and Tommy," Carol says, taking a drag off her cigarette, "but he was definitely the bigger asshole in your relationship." Nancy laughs, startled. Carol grins uncertainly, then offers her the cigarette. She accepts. "Like, whatever, you're a totally embarrassing drunk, and you didn't have the balls to dump him until you were sure you had Byers eating out of your pussy, but--" "Jesus Christ, Carol," Nancy said, turning bright red, but Carol waved her off. "Fine. Va-gi-na. Lady garden. Cavern of feminine wonders. Whatever Emily Post says to call it." Carol cackled as Nancy struggled to look disapproving. "My point is, he was also a fucking prick."

How Will You Make It on Your Own? (Stonathan no UD college AU, the context is Jonathan and Samantha have broken up):

Because all the theater freaks were shunning him, Jonathan sat with Barb and Nancy at lunch. "You'll get back together," Barb said glumly. It was unclear whether she was trying to reassure him but was too stressed out about Mathletes to manage a cheerful tone, or if she was predicting an outcome she disapproved of. "You'll ignore her, she'll call and sort of say sorry, and, because she apologized first, you'll fall all over yourself saying that it's all your fault, and that she's right that you should both move to New York City and live in a condemned building and wear garbage bags instead of clothes." Well. That answered his question. "I don't think that's going to happen," he said, contemplating the peanut butter cracker he'd spent the last half hour eating. "It feels different this time."

Oh, I'm Bound to Go (companion to Drive All Night)

Will wasn't sure who figured it out first, him or Mom. When the money first started coming in--so much money, enough for Mom's medicine and Will's new shoes and more food than he could ever remember having--he asked why they couldn't just live with Jonathan in the city. Surely Indianapolis had enough piecework and odd jobs for the two of them. "He's living in a boarding house, sweetheart," she said, keeping her eyes on the chicken she was cleaning instead of his face. "There's no room for us." Maybe she'd known it was a lie all along. But Will understood Jonathan better than anyone, knew how his lies looked and sounded. On paper, he couldn't hear the too-bright home or watch him disappear behind his eyes, but the wrongness came through all the same.

Short

I Know It Breaks Your Heart (Tommy-centric, mostly future fic)

Tommy didn't need anyone to think that he was smart except for Carol, who understood without explanation that he didn't have to act like a nerd or a circus freak to prove that he was clever. It just felt shitty, sometimes, that Steve clearly thought of him as a dumbass. Steve, who had no bullshit meter and maintained a B-minus average with more effort than he liked to admit. It was annoying, but, more than that, it struck Tommy as greedy. Steve was taller, more handsome, more impressive on the court and field. He put people at ease. He could've let Tommy have something.

Raised on Promises (El's life in California, gen)

No matter what Joyce says, and no matter how nice Will and Jonathan are about it, El still feels embarrassed by the toys. Jonathan doesn't play with anything, except sometimes for the hacky sack Argyle gave him; he just listens to tapes and smokes. And maybe that's because he's almost grown up, but Will is her age and he gave away all his D&D stuff to Erica before they moved. He does art now, which isn't playing. Grown-ups do art, too, sometimes even as a job. The girls at school don't play with toys, either. They have fun like she and Max did last summer: dressing up and messing around with makeup and hanging out at the mall. Only the girls here aren't as nice, and Max isn't here to show her how to act her age. So she finds herself building little towns out of blocks and shuffling around a bunch of plastic dolls.

The P is for Perfection (and You Know That We Are Freaks) (Joyce doesn't move the family to California and El becomes a cheerleader)

"I heard she was raised in a cult," Amanda whispered to Chrissy, as the freshman girls lined up. "Chief Hopper knocked up some hippie and only found out when she died a couple years ago. And then he left her with Joyce Byers when he died. Not really an improvement, if you ask me." "Shush," Chrissy said. She was already getting a headache and the yelling hadn't even started. "You don't want the other girls to hear." Amanda muttered that it was common knowledge, but Chrissy tuned her out and studied Jane Hopper. She was on the tall side, with a lean and strong-looking frame. No flyer, but she could be a backspot or a base. She had curly brown hair pulled back in a scrunchy and a pretty, guileless face. She was dressed okay, in a baggy light purple sweatshirt and white leggings, but there was an air of offness about her.

[madwomanwithawarehouse]

WIP ask game

With much thanks to @assigned-boyking-at-birth for tagging me

RULES: post the names of all the files in your WIP folder (what folder? lol), regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! Then tag as many people as you have WIPs like

Not specifying fandoms or if I actually plan on continuing bc it's more fun that way but i am including my edits/moodboards in this too

Feast of Ghouls 2023

stoncy wicked au

kalice undercover au

fargo pirate & knight au

stoncy narnia au

Wish I Could Keep You

it ends with blood in your mouth

claudia pre series

The Beauty of All Life

Sunlight

Just a Flash Away From Reality

The Darkness is Quiet

Kady/Penny/Alice Au

Cleopatra

Pastel Pink Legos

Turn Back the Clock Once More

Ophelia coming out

Time Murder AU

fire and ice

Wickinn Hogwarts AU

Letters That Will Never Reach You

S/V au

Niffin!Alice and Kim!Julia

Trifecta Files

I know it's a lot and most are just plot bunnies, but some have some serious mileage (for me) on em and a couple even have a chapter or 2 posted

I'll tag @inklingdancer, @frankensteinsmona, and @effie214 if they feel up for it

[foreverautumn89]

A bit of a rant. You've been warned! [Steve is the dominant one]

Normally I don't mind how people ship like if you want so and so to be the top and so and so to be the bottom and I don't agree with that then that's fine, but since I've had so many people talking crap to me lately about how I do it, I'm going to explain something…

Steve is clearly the dominant one in Stonathan. I don't know about the other Steve ships because while I don't mind them I don't ship them or pay attention to them [well except for Stoncy but imo Steve and Nancy are both clearly the dominants to Jonathan who is submissive so its the same thing].

But when it comes to Stonathan it's just absurd to say that Steve would be the submissive/bottom. I mean its obvious. Steve even has the personality of a dominant and Jonathan's personality is that of a sub. In fact, their entire dynamic is dom!steve and sub!Jonathan. Jonathan even acts like a sub when Steve starts to talk down to him. Okay, so Jonathan might be a mouthy sub/bottom, but realistically ALL subs are.

In all their scenes together in Season 1, they even act like dom!steve and sub!jonathan. Those scenes were like pre-slash to a BDSM story. I know I sort of mentioned this before, but I'll say it again: In the scene where Steve breaks Jonathan's camera, that scene screams dom!steve and sub!Jonathan and is enough to demonstrate this.

Steve walks up to Jonathan and starts touching him [unnecessarily] Jonathan doesn't fight it. He could so easily lift up his arms and push Steve away but he doesn't. Instead Jonathan just stands there and keeps his arms pinned down at his sides. He lets Steve touch him as much as he wants and lets Steve do whatever he likes with him. We all know that Jonathan could kick Steve's ass if he really wanted to here, but he doesn't, so its not that Jonathan CAN'T fight back against what Steve is doing to him…its that he DOESN'T WANT TO. Jonathan also keeps his eyes averted from Steve as much as possible to show Steve he is letting him have all the power in the situation, to show he is not challenging him. Its a typical dom and sub interaction and Jonathan is clearly the sub/bottom and Steve is the dom/top.

Then in later seasons, Steve is taking charge and being the leader of the group and bossing everyone around and everyone obeys his orders overall. The kids talk back to him to keep him humble and challenge him but overall he is the one in charge and they challenge him so much because he is the main one to challenge since he is the overall leader [except when the adults show up]. So…Steve is a dominant type in all seasons not just Season 1.

I mean do whatever you want idc, but dont tell me off and call me delusional for thinking of Steve as a dom when he clearly is. It's actually so baffling to me when someone says Steve is the sub/bottom that to get you to understand how absurd I think it is: its just as absurd as saying Vecna or Lord Voldemort is a bottom. I just can't believe it. Steve is classically written as a dominant type of character.

So to all of you that want Steve as a sub and didn't say anything to me: Keep living your best life. This rant wasn't directed at you in any way and enjoy the ship how you want, but to the people that have been saying I'm in the wrong: My advice is to cut back on all the Palm Tree Delight. Just let me keep doing what I'm doing so I can enjoy my fav ship.

[elekinetic]

patrick nancy agenda go

LETS GO

ok so for those of you who don't know my Patrick McKinney Lore, consider this s4 au:

patrick is a steve-esque figure for lucas. maybe we borrow some stuff from lucas on the line. he's popular, well-liked. kind of close with jason (to increase dramatic tension between the two). he uses popularity as a shield the same way lucas wants to. they bond over that.

after chrissy dies, he's silently skeptical of jason's mob-mentality.

gareth is the 3rd victim. when jason goes to the corroded coffin rehearsal, we get some hints that he is gonna Get Vecna'd. when jason attacks gareth, we watch lucas struggle with sticking up for what is right (which would put him in danger) and sticking with the safety of the pack. patrick, who has made this decision countless times, sees lucas struggling. this sparks some doubt of his own.

at the hendersons, patrick catches lucas leaving. he lets lucas go and leads the jocks in a different direction.

we add a scene at lovers lake between patrick and jason where they fight over jason's hellbent desire to kill eddie. gareth, who'd have a pre-established reason to be at the lake, would get vecna'd. the basketball team would watch, and this ends in patrick getting the fuck out of there. he knows this wasn't hellfire, but he jason's mind wont change. (plus i think having the added angle of "oh look now their sacrificing their own members" would be interesting)

something something patrick joins the teens. eddie dies in a meaningful way. their "i didn't run" journeys parallel each other.

end of s4/early s5 patrick's arc is about clearing eddie's name. he's a respected community member and though he struggles to get people on his side, he becomes a community leader. he represents the best of hawkins.

now, onto patrick x nancy <3

i am a jancy endgame girl. this is jancy endgame compliant.

HOWEVER

they are still going thru it in s4.

fuck stancy noise, we're replacing the six nuggets scene with a scene between nancy and patrick while theyre getting ready for battle. they bond over facing parental/societal pressure, esp in the wake of "popularity." he tells nancy that she's brave. that he's sorry she has to be. maybe its a little flirty, but its definitely sincere.

(also we're just slipping the six nuggets dream into a convo steve has w robin abt what he wants his future to look like, if they make it out of here alive. its important we get this foreshadowing for steves impending s5 death)

there are a couple more moments between patrick and nancy, mostly charged w him being chivalrous and checking to make sure she's okay.

when jonathan returns, patrick steps back.

in s5, jonathan and patrick have a conversation about how nancy deserves honesty.

blah blah dramatic conversations and moments happen throughout s5. jonathan + patrick + nancy team up. jonathan saves nancy, nancy saves patrick, patrick saves jonathan. patrick and nancy's relationship grows strongs as it becomes more and more platonic throughout s5, esp as jancy is drawn back together.

the whole situation ends with nancy and patrick being very close friends. best friends. they understand each other fundamentally.

as im writing this, im realizing i lowkey wrote stoncy (but make it better). i sort of wrote steve, but make him better. oh my god. but heres the difference between steve and patrick. steve starts as vapid and overprivileged. patrick starts with a struggle. they both grow, but patrick grows into a community leader, while steve focuses on his own identity (not in a sexuality way. in a person way). plus i think the conflict between him and (a only sort of torn up in this au) jason is a SUPER interesting angle and i wish i could see them use it to explore the hellfire+mob plot.

anyway patrick mckinney deserved better than that excuse of a death and i wish i could give it to him

[jonathanssweatercollection]

stranger things opinions !!

(tagged by the lovely @pusheen1802 thank u for taggin me !!!)

my beautiful cinnamon roll too good for this world fave: JONATHAN BABY BOY BYERS THE LOVE OF MY LIFE I WOULD KILL A MAN FOR YOU

my trash-shit fave: to a certain extent, hopper. s1 hopper is a fave but he’s also a himbo but still fun and interesting. s2 hopper is a dick at times and didn’t deserve to be forgiven so quickly for lying to everybody and restricting el so much. s3 hopper was literally abusive, killed russians indiscriminately, threatened children, abused his power as a cop and had a shitty mario moustache.

my I love to hate them fave: tommy, carol and nicole (even if she makes stupid pouty faces when mocking people). and kinda brenner

my I hate to love them fave: no one??? either they’re a dick or i love them there isn’t an in-between

my I wouldn’t piss on them if they were on fire non-fave: billy; i need not say more. axel from kali’s gang bc ya know he used a lot of ableist and derogatory language and almost killed a child (or at least threatened to). and obviously brenner for obvious reasons

my I didn’t care about them either way at first but the fandom makes such a big deal about them now I can’t stand them non-fave: dustin; i still love him but he’s been turned into such basic and boring meme fodder. i miss when he was a well-rounded character who’s pov i could understand like in s1 (maybe s2 if i’m not counting the bullshit wannabe “love triangle” with max and lucas) but he really is just a “big fun” kinda archetype for comic relief

my I could take them or leave them kinda non-fave: erica murray. they’ve turned into tropes gone wrong (“sassy black girl”/“precociously mean sibling” and “creator’s pet”/“shipper with an agenda” which are just 1. unrealistic and 2. incredibly creepy)

my I will go down with this ship and I won’t put my hands up and surrender, there will be no white flag above my door. I’m in love and always will be fave ship: stoncy and jancy. obviously

my they’re cute together and I dig them but I’m not all that terribly invested kinda fave ship: uhh idk maybe jopper ?? i’d be more invested if hopper wasn’t such a dick so much of the time (especially to joyce and the children) like pre-mid-s2 hopper was prime beefcake boyfriend material but then he just. stopped being like that (other than at the very end of s2 lol)

my I didn’t care about this ship either way at first but the fandom makes such a big deal about it now I can’t stand it non-fave ship: byeler. this is going to make more mutuals block me lmao. fandom has just kinda warped mike and will into these cookie-cutter fanon characters that fujoshi can froth over, while baby-fying will (even though he canonically hates that) and vilifying mike and making him seem stupid and repressed (like hello steve is right there /j) also there’s the whole hating el and infantilising her AS WELL as will bc she gets in the way of the ship. i still really like byeler!!! but fandom goes out of its way to make me dislike it lol

[mrs-steve-harrington]

First Line Meme

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line, then tag 10 of your favorite authors!

No one tagged me or anything. I was just thinking about how I did a meme similar to this sometime last year. I’d had to use the first line from tumblr ficlets back then because I wouldn’t have enough to choose from otherwise. (and this version has a higher number than that one did, I think, but it was the first version that popped up when I searched “First Line Meme”)

Wanted to do it again since I’ve posted quite a bit more since then!

Can’t Keep Us Apart - Stoncy

Nancy stood away from the others, Steve at her left, as they waited for the Entity's latest victim to step through.

Okay - Cole & Bee (The Babysitter)

"What do you say, Cole?" 

i can’t (but maybe we could) - Stoncy

Jonathan's knee was beginning to ache. 

Stranger Drifts - Steve & Dustin

Steve's parents died when he was nineteen. 

the missing piece of me (is you) - Stoncy

Sitting on the floor in a bathroom stall wasn't where Steve pictured his day ending up. 

anything (anything) for you - Stoncy

It wasn't fair of him to put this on her now; not when they had more important things to worry about.

Epiphany - Stoncy

Nancy always knew Steve would move on eventually.

these wounds don’t fade - gen Steve-centric ficlet

The lights in the hospital bathroom are harsh. 

Picnic in the Park - Daphne & Shaggy (Scooby Doo)

The boy is wearing the same green shirt she's always seen him in. 

a distant memory - gen Steve-centric ficlet

Steve loved autumn, once. 

We Talked About This - pre-Stoncy

Nancy already knows what she's going to find when she gets home and isn't immediately greeted by a hello called from somewhere in the house. 

In the Meantime - Steve & Jason Scott (PR 2017 xover)

Crickets chirped as the sun set, painting the sky in shades of pink and orange. 

meant for this - Jason Scott & Zordon (PR17)

Orders, when he has to give them, feel like they come from someone else; someone who knows what they're doing.

Two Lists - Steve & Dustin

Steve relaxed on the couch in the Henderson's living room. 

the road before us - Bee/Cole (The Babysitter)

For the first time all night—maybe the first time in two years—Cole could breathe.

You’re My Home - Stonathan

Jonathan set their plates on the table, smiling in thanks when he saw Steve had already poured him a glass of water. 

a place where I feel at home - Steve & Hopper (& El)

The air around Steve is sharp and unpleasant and the smell of it is what wakes him up. 

you steal my breath away - Stonathan

Welcome to Hawkins 

Flowers On Our Hands - Stoncy

Nancy looks up at the third, and hopefully last, jewelry store they've stopped at. 

A deal with Mr. Le Bail - gen Grace-centric ficlet (Ready or Not)

When Grace agreed to marry Alex, she knew her life would change.

My favorite of these is a tie between the one from "meant for this" and "Can't Keep Us Apart" :)

Tagging (only if you want to): @pterawaters @urisarang @moonlit-imagines @whookami and anyone else who has written or is writing fics and wants to show off their first lines!!

I know it says 10 people, but I’m so terrible at keeping up with who is currently writing anymore, I’m sorry!

[ao3feed-stoncy]

by disneyandthefamilybusiness

Robin sees the way that Steve, Jonathan, and Nancy act around each other at the video store and she knows that it's definitely more than friendship. She just needs to help Steve see that too. ------ "Robin may have been a part of all that Starcourt craziness, but she knew that she was on the fringes of the group. She supposed that when you’ve saved the world together more than once that creates a bond that makes it harder for outsiders to join. But she was content with being acquaintances with Jonathan and Nancy as long as she had Dingus around to make fun of every once and a while.

Besides, there was something deeper going on between Jonathan, Nancy, and Steve. Something that went beyond friendship and the awkward ex-boyfriend high school drama. If Robin could just come right out and say it, she’d tell them to cut the crap and just sleep with each other already."

Words: 2889, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 1 of Caught in my Stoncy Feels

Fandoms: Stranger Things (TV 2016)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: Other

Characters: Robin Buckley, Steve Harrington, Jonathan Byers, Nancy Wheeler

Relationships: Jonathan Byers/Steve Harrington/Nancy Wheeler, Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington

Additional Tags: Pre-Relationship, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington-centric, steve harrington is an idiot, mostly canon compliant but Hopper isnt presumed dead, post-season 3, Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington Friendship, POV Robin Buckley, Rated teen for language, hopefully a prequel for a more explicit fic but we will see, robin can see stoncy from a mile a way, stoncy, Matchmaker Robin Buckley, Dingus (affectionate)

[lesbianrobin]

if u were going to try to convert someone into a stonathan shipper...how would u go about it lmao??

a normal person might send them a really good either pre-stonathan or slowburn stonathan fic to read and appreciate (cough cough the opposite of love by @steveharrington or my own rivers and roads) but i am not that person.

i personally would write a short essay about how all of their core values align, how they both consistently prioritize the safety of those around them over their own, how they're both incredibly loyal, how they're both the type to take it easy and try to mind their own business, but will stop at nothing to do the right thing when they're confronted with an issue. i'd say that they have great chemistry in their limited on-screen interactions, that they both go out of their way to try and cheer people up (nancy and their respective little bros primarily), and that they both have issues with their fathers and not living up to expectations. i would also mention their differences, and how those might complement one another and enrich their dynamic.

they have different backgrounds, but steve has shown to be receptive to learning (and would likely thus be understanding of jonathan's financial state). they could introduce each other to new things, new hobbies, new experiences. i think that having shared core values is an essential part of any strong relationship, and i've stated that i believe steve and jonathan to have shared core values. this basis allows for them to strengthen each other through their differences in perspective and temperament.

they also have such an interesting history to play around with! living in hawkins all their lives, knowing of each other but rarely interacting, having all these preconceived notions until they suddenly found themselves linked by a shared interest in nancy wheeler as well as shared interest in not being torn to shreds by a monster. stonathan is just full of potential for so many different kinds of stories, and i think it's a really fun and sweet ship!

also i personally got into stonathan by first shipping stoncy/monster hunting trio and then just realizing that i was far more interested in steve and jonathan's dynamic than i was steve/nancy or nancy/jonathan! if you're trying to ease yourself or somebody else into a ship to figure out if you like it or not, you can always try finding something where that ship is just one small piece of the puzzle and see how you feel about that!

[tibby]

I was a Stoncy because I’m a lesbian who projected on to Steve but also accepted Steve as pathetic (and s1 fandom was like. Really mean if you “erased” Jonathan by shipping just stancy) so I shipped it as a v shaped polycule for several months but besides that one monster hunting scene and kinda the camera gift there’s. Really no reason to ship it so I gave up

look i do think post-s1 stoncy is VALID, again if only because people would be weird about you shipping any of the duos without the third character, but after the past two seasons i just....don’t get it? which is big words coming from a stonathan stanathan but at least our lack of interactions means the dynamic hasn’t been ruined and we can develop whatever we want, but i fail to see how adding jonathan into the equation would change the fact that nancy (rightfully) doesn’t want to be with steve, and couldn’t be with him because their relationship was born out of a pre-trauma Ideal High School Fantasy. likewise, the idea that steve would somehow fix all the problems with jancy is just...laughable. i know i’m anti jancy but i could at least see the appeal if they were better written, but the idea of stoncy at any point in the post-s1 narrative just completely misinterprets all three characters, and what they want out of their lives - especially their relationships.

[asexual-fandom-queen]

Pre-stoncy Jonathan and Nancy going to Scoops to flirt at Steve.

“Stop that,” hisses Nancy, the back of her hand striking quick and sudden against Jonathan’s bicep. Jonathan looks up at her with wide, surprised eyes, and immediately, his fingers still against the shirt button just below his navel, where the hem tucks into his jeans.

Nancy crosses her arms over her chest and does her level best to hide her own trembling fingers in the loose fabric of her blouse as she continues, “you look nice. Don’t be so nervous.”

Jonathan scoffs and rolls his eyes, nearly tripping over his own feet as he follows along at the breakneck pace Nancy’s set. The mall is crawling with people, school just having let out for the summer. Mothers congregate in groups in the food court, or bounce around like pinballs in an arcade from outlet store to outlet store, their children reeling in the sweet taste of unstructured time and lack of supervision.

“Easy for you to say,” Jonathan says, quiet as he can while still making himself heard over all the raucous activity. A kid no older than seven zooms across the mall aisle and nearly bodychecks him in the gut, and Jonathan does his best approximation of a pirouette to dodge the collision in time.

“Hey, watch where you’re going, seriously!” Nancy yells after the kid, one arm thrown out in exasperation, while Jonathan stumbles in place, taking a moment to find his footing again. The kid doesn’t so much as look back, and Nancy huffs loudly, shaking her head.

Jonathan leaves her a moment to stew in her annoyance before leaning in close to her ear and picking the conversation back up where they were cut off. “Steve already likes you,” he says.

Read the Rest Below the Cut, or Here on AO3. 

“Liked me,” Nancy amends, her lips pulling down into a dissatisfied frown. “You’re not the one who called your relationship bullshit and then stomped all over his heart.”

When Jonathan doesn’t answer right away, Nancy glances over at him, and the soft, besotted smile she’s met with goes far toward melting the anxiety weighing down her chest. “It would take a lot more than that for me to fall out of love with you, Nancy Wheeler,” he tells her.

She shoves gently at his shoulder, face hot and flushed, with her gaze glued to her feet. “Shut up, Jonathan.”

When she looks up at him through her lashes a few seconds later, he’s still smiling at her, but he’s more sombre now, and Nancy’s mood shifts to match his.

“I know,” Nancy whispers, even though Jonathan hasn’t said anything. He doesn’t have to. The more time they spend together, the more in tune they become, reading the other’s every thought plain as day on their faces. “It’s not like anything’s gonna happen anyway. But even just to be his friend. I’ve missed him.”

And even though Steve never meant to Jonathan half of what he meant to Nancy, he still remembers the night they fought the demogorgon under the flickering lights in his childhood home every time he closes his eyes. He remembers Steve’s face. Remembers what if felt like to have him come back for them.

He wraps his arm comfortingly around Nancy’s shoulder, lets her lean into his side, press her nose into his collar and breathe deep.

“Me, too.”  

~~~~~

“Welcome to Scoops Ahoy. Do you know what you want?”

Nancy fidgets nervously from foot to foot as subtly as she can, staring across the counter at the employee in her garish, blue sailor’s uniform, complete with the little hat. Her face is as bland and impassive as her voice, but her eyes are gorgeous and unmistakable. Nancy’s sure she remembers her from school, despite the fact that the name Robin engraved on her nametag does little to jog Nancy’s memory of specifically which classes.

“Um, is Steve around?” Nancy asks tentatively, trying for a smile, but only managing to twitch the corners of her lips spasmodically. Beside her, Jonathan waves once, short and curt, with the tips of his fingers, his other arm pressed closely to his chest. His smile is just as tight-lipped, but at least it stays in place.

Robin blinks, long and slow, then raises her eyebrows and shakes her head. “Why do I even work here?” she mutters. Then, just as Nancy’s about to try asking again, Robin turns on her heels and makes for the frosted glass window behind her.

“Hey, dingus,” she yells, smacking the glass with the flat of her palm until it rattles in the frame. Nancy flinches, and beside her, she feels Jonathan do the same. “It’s for you again.”

“Oh, no, no, no.”

Nancy hears the familiar voice before she even sees the first sign of movement from behind the frosted glass.

“I told those little shitheads not to get caught” – a shadow, then a monochromatic streak of blue in the shape of a man – “and then what do I hear from Dave from Panda Express?”

Finally, forcefully, the panes slide open, and whatever rant is poised on the tip of Steve’s tongue abruptly dies in his throat. He stares at them both, blinking owlishly, for a moment.

“Hey, Nance,” Steve says finally. He looks to her right, spies her company, then adds, hesitantly, “Jonathan.”

Jonathan nods to him, and Nancy waves, and Steve stares at them both, mouth working, until Robin hops up on the counter and pulls herself through the open frame.

“Well, this is lots of fun for me, but I’m going on my break now,” she provides, patting Steve on the shoulder on her way past, like she’s tagging him in. It takes Steve a second to get with the program, but when he does, he’s scuttling through the window himself and closing it shut behind.

“Hey,” Steve says again, like it’s as far as he’s been able to ride his train of thought since opening a window and finding his ex-girlfriend and her new boyfriend on the other side. Nancy can hardly blame him. She’s not doing much better.

“Hey,” she says back, but she takes it as a win, as Jonathan has yet to say anything.  

“I, uh,” Steve tries, brows knitting under his mop of thick, touchable, brown hair. It looks a little ridiculous with the sailor’s hat perched on top, but Nancy almost forgot – ridiculous is a good look on him. “I wasn’t expecting to see you two here. Least of all looking for me.”

Conspiratorially, Steve looks around the ice cream parlour, then leans over the counter, palms braced on the cold vinyl surface, so he can whisper to them. “Is there something… upside-downy going on that I should know about?”

Nancy and Jonathan, who leaned in close to hear him, reel back at once. “No, no,” Jonathan assures him at the same time as Nancy firmly asserts, “absolutely not.”  

“Okay,” Steve says, long and slow, nodding gently to himself as the crease in his brow only gets deeper. “I mean, did you want specifically my opinion on the ice cream flavours? Because Robin could have just given you some samples. We have, like, millions of these little plastic shovels, and it’s not like we really care how many of them you–”

“Steve,” Nancy says, cutting Steve off mid-ramble.

Steve stops dead, mouth open in a loose O shape. Nancy chuckles softly, then reaches across the counter to place a reassuring hand over Steve’s knuckles. She regrets it the second she does it. Steve draws his hand back like she’s burned him and casts furtive glances back and forth between Jonathan and the counter.

“Ah,” Nancy tries again with a short, awkward chuckle that drops some of the tension from Steve’s shoulders. Jonathan is stiff as a board beside her, but she can feel, every so often, his muscles trying to unclench before tensing up again.

“Do you guys wanna split a sundae?” Steve asks suddenly, sudden enough that Nancy and Jonathan both jump. “That’s a big hit with, uh– with couples when they come in.”

Nancy opens her mouth to reply, but doesn’t get a polite refusal out before Steve soldiers on. “On the house,” he offers. “Who’s gonna notice a few missing bananas, right?”

“You don’t have to give us free food, Steve,” Nancy protests.

“Okay, right, yeah,” Steve says, but he sounds less and less like he’s agreeing by the second. “No, sorry, I’m just not exactly following, I guess. If you’re not looking for the Monster Hunter Union Rate, what exactly am I doing for you?”

“Cocoon.”

“Huh?” Steve asks, his face a mask of confusion, and honestly, looking at him over her shoulder, Nancy thinks Jonathan looks just as surprised by his own outburst.

“Have you…” Jonathan trails off, his words escaping him for a moment until he’s able to wrangle them back into place. “Have you seen it, yet? It’s still playing here.”

“The one with the old people and the swimming pool?” Steve asks.

Jonathan nods. “You’ve seen it, then?”

Nancy can hear the disappointment in his tone.

Steve, though, shakes his head. “Nah, man,” he replies. “But we get enough people who come in after the movies let out that I’ve gotten the cliffs notes version of every freaking thing that’s been playing since I started.”

“Would you still wanna see it?” Nancy asks, trying to keep her tone casual.

Steve cocks his head sideways and screws up his face. “What’s the question, here?” he wonders. “Like, after hearing about the basics of the plot, do I still think it’s a worthwhile movie to watch, or–”

“Or would you like to watch it with us?”

Jonathan surprises Nancy, being the one to actually ask. She glances at him out of the corner of her eye and sees he’s white as a sheet. Not that she blames him. Butterflies turn to knots in her stomach that pull and twist uncomfortably every time she breathes.

“Oh,” Steve says, and it’s quiet and weighty and makes Nancy squirm all the more.

“Listen,” he resumes. “You guys. It’s really nice of you to go out of your way to offer up an olive branch, and I appreciate it, I do. But you don’t have to let me crash your date because you feel weird about how everything went down between us.”

Just to hear Steve say the words between us sets a fire in Nancy’s belly, even though she knows, in the logical part of her brain, that he doesn’t mean between us the way she and Jonathan wish he did.

“I’m a big boy,” Steve continues. “And anyway, I’m over it.”

The assurance doesn’t reach his eyes, or at least, Nancy doesn’t think it does. Her own wishful thinking makes Steve harder to read, but she doesn’t think, at least, that he really wants to let things go so soon.

“You wouldn’t be crashing,” Nancy promises. “Plus, it’s not St. Elmo’s Fire. It’s a comedy. Harmless, right?”

To posit it as harmless means, to a certain degree, acknowledging they’re playing with matches, but Nancy hopes Steve won’t examine it that deep. Or at the very least, not have the courage to question her.

She should know him better.

“And what kind of harm exactly are you imagining, Nancy?” Steve asks.

They’re quiet for a moment, Steve staring the couple down, and them examining him in turn, each trying to complete the puzzle laid out before them without all the pieces.

“Come to the dumb movie with us, Steve,” Nancy says finally, unwilling to let the staring match continue any longer. “We have survived far worse things than trying to get along with each other.”

Steve scrunches his nose. “I’m not worried about getting along with you,” he admits, and it feels precarious, so when he says nothing more, Nancy doesn’t push.

“Well, good,” Nancy huffs, puffing out her chest and doing her best approximation of a person who knows what they’re getting themselves into. “Because we aren’t worried about that, either.”

“Byers?” Steve questions.

Jonathan’s been quiet, but his eyes flick quickly to meet Steve’s when he’s called upon, and, with steel in his spine, he holds that gaze as he replies, “what Nancy said.”

“So,” Nancy says firmly, crossing her arms over her chest and holding her head high to get as close to looking at Steve straight on as she can manage. “When are you done your shift so we know how much time to kill at JCPenney?”

Steve smirks in a way that feels so familiar, all of Nancy’s knots uncurl into butterflies again. “Give me an hour and I’ll meet you at the concession stand.”

“You’re buying the popcorn,” Jonathan says, matter-of-factly, and Steve balks.

“I make three dollars an hour!”

“We’re interns,” Jonathan and Nancy reply in tandem, and  Steve scoffs and shakes his head.

“New plan,” he says. “We meet back here in forty-five. Then at least the ice cream’s free.”

Nancy rolls her eyes. “How chivalrous of you.”    

“Look,” Steve sighs. “Any chivalry I had, if that was even any at all, I already gave to you. Now all that’s left is just Steve, alright?”

Jonathan smiles. “I guess Just Steve is okay.”

Steve smiles right back. “Oh, well, as long as guess so.”

[mrs-steve-harrington]

2020 Creator Wrap: Favorite works

Rules: It’s time to love yourself. Choose your 5 favorite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc.) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you’ve brought into the world. Tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome works!

Thank you for tagging me @pterawaters!

So I posted...a lot last year. It’s very hard to narrow it down, especially as one of my five is going to be an edit rather than a fic. But I’m gonna try! These aren’t in order of which is my absolute favorite because that would be impossible haha.

1. Steve Harrington - The Comeback Kid gifset

It’s the first time I tried out blending. And the first time I tried to make an edit with a song that I felt really fit a specific character. Every time I listen to The Comeback Kid, I picture Steve and all the things he’s been through and the way he keeps getting up, so it seemed perfect! And I’m just really proud of how this turned out when I finished it!

2. if we could start again - post-S2, pre-Stoncy hurt/comfort fic

I can’t even explain why I love this so much but it’s been one of my favorites since I posted it. Kind of dipping my toes into the angst pool again after basically writing nothing but fluff all year. While also still getting that nice hurt/comfort in there! I love Season 2 of the show and love seeing what might have happened when everyone met back up at the Byers’, so it was really fun getting to write my own version of it!

3. The Safety of Your Arms - post-S3, pre-Stoncy hurt/comfort fic

Hmm, I am perhaps sensing a trend...This is another one that’s been a fave since I posted it. I go back to reread it whenever I need some good ‘ol Steve-centric hurt/comfort haha. This is one where I had little moments in my head that didn’t get written into the work but are still there (at least, I think they still kind of show through) and idk. It’s the only time I’ve ever actually managed that!

4. the devil on my shoulder - The Babysitter (McG), darkish manipulation fic?

Not the kind of fic anyone’s following me for, but one that I am super proud of anyway. I’m still stoked that it’s gotten more than one comment when I expected only the prompter would read it when it was posted. I didn’t think I was even going to end up writing for the prompt because I hadn’t gotten an idea the whole month. But one morning I decided to try to write snippets of moments that would lead to the ending I wanted and I got the whole fic written in half a day. It’s a little weird, it’s a little dark, the relationships are unhealthy, and I love every word of it.

5. to hold you in my arms - post-S3, pre-Stoncy hurt/comfort fic

HUH THAT TREND CONTINUES...See, the thing is, I’m not great at get together fics so I just write a bunch of pre-relationship fics instead! This one was so nice to write. The prompt I wrote it for just spoke to me, like, right away. I love the way it all turned out. I feel like it’s one of my better pieces, tbh, especially with the emotions? Which I feel like I struggle with a lot in my writing. This one wasn’t necessarily easy but it was a delight to write and I like to reread it when I need a pick me up. :)

Tagging (no pressure, only if you want to do it!): @captainharrington @captainmarkarth @trulyalpha @harrington-ofhawkins @mrvdocks @shypt @moonlit-imagines @jonathan-byers @jonathanssweatercollection

I’d love to see what your guys’ favorite fics/art/edits are from the last year!

Also, if I missed you, or you see this and want to join in then you are officially tagged!

[mrs-steve-harrington]

Last 10 fics meme

Tagged by @pterawaters​ | This looked like fun and I wanted to play. :D Included some ficlets only posted to tumblr because they count, right?

Rules: Post the first lines of your last ten fics and then tag others to do the same.

untitled Jonathan Byers x Reader fic

Jonathan shakes his head, gently wrapping his arms around your waist.

“You shouldn’t be walking,” he says, tracing your face with his eyes.

untitled Stonathan ficlet (crisis)

Jonathan watches Steve pace back and forth, a wild look in his eyes. He tries not to show his amusement, but he can’t help it. It’s written all over his face.

It’s Normal - Jonathan & Steve

Jonathan feels like he’s going crazy. It was bad after they first got Will back. He was relieved and grateful and didn’t let his little brother out of his sight for days after he got home from the hospital. But that’s mostly all it took: days.

untitled Stoncy ficlet (hurt)

Nancy aims, shoots, is still too late to stop Jonathan from being thrown into the air like he weighs nothing. She shoots again, can’t focus on anything but killing the thing that did it.

untitled Stoncy ficlet (letters)

Despite their history, Steve isn’t all that surprised to find himself writing letters to Jonathan when the Byers move out of Hawkins. It’s easier to talk to him without actually talking, without worrying he’s going to revert back to his old self somehow; say the wrong thing at the wrong time.

sharing is caring - Stoncy

Steve made his way up the stairs, keeping a careful eye on the three mugs he was carrying. They were all nearly full and steam rose from each one, wafting the comforting scents of cinnamon and nutmeg into the air.

The Safety of Your Arms - pre-Stoncy

Steve is so tired he isn't sure how he's walking. His face hurts and he can't believe he got away from the mall without another hospital stay.

it’s (not) just food - Steve & everyone

Considering the year he's had, Steve can't find it in himself to be surprised at how comfortable he is, sitting on the Byers' floor with a bunch of kids he was barely even aware of a few months ago.

Music and Laughter - Jonathan & Steve

“Shoot,” Joyce said as she dropped her keys on the way into the house.

It was just one of those days. She was glad to finally be home, but she would really appreciate it if she could relax and stop dropping her things.

With You, My Aches Fade Away - Stoncy

Steve pouts when Jonathan gets up from the couch and costs him his comfy pillow in the process.

"The movie won't change itself, you know?" Jonathan says, laughter in his voice.

Tagging: Whoever would like to join in! Seriously, just say I tagged you. I’d love to check it out! 

[mrs-steve-harrington]

#8 bed sharing - Stoncy

Sorry, anon, tumblr was messing up the Read More again. So reposting the fic here.

Thank you for the prompt! Here, have 1.5k words of post-Season 3, pre-Stoncy fic. Hope you enjoy! #8 - bed sharing

Steve is so tired he isn’t sure how he’s walking. His face hurts and he’s not sure how he got away without another hospital stay. He should probably have mentioned the truth serum when he was with the EMTs but would they even be equipped to handle something that secret Russian spies made in their secret underground lab? He didn’t think so. It had been long enough, the serum out of his system enough by now anyway that he’s sure it won’t be a problem.

The path up to his house feels a mile long. He parked as close as he could, but his legs are sore. All that running around and crashing cars into people takes a lot out of you. Who knew?

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

Surprisingly this comes from Jonathan who is walking beside him. Steve turns to look at him because his eyes are hurting too much to even think about moving them on their own. Jonathan looks worse than he has during any of their past life-or-death encounters with monsters. Not as bad as he had when Steve checked on him and Nancy in the ambulance, but even with the blood haphazardly cleaned off, Jonathan looks like hell.

Gesturing at his face, though maybe more widely than he means to, Steve shrugs. “I’m starting to get used to it. I think bruises work for me, make me look badass.”

Nancy huffs from Jonathan’s other side. Steve grins, ignoring the way his swollen eye and cheeks ache with the motion. Nancy looks as beautiful as ever; more disheveled than he gets to see her anymore, but still beautiful.

“What, you don’t think I can pull it off?” he asks, sighing when they finally reach his front door. He unlocks it, not sure why he even bothered to lock it in the first place. It’s not like he has much here he’s worried about losing. It’s not like his parents would notice anything missing.

Or maybe they would, maybe they keep track of every single thing just in case he loses or moves something. It hasn’t been an issue before but he’s feeling reckless tonight and he’s seriously considering hiding one of his mom’s stupid potpourri bowls in a closet just to see.

“I think I’d rather you didn’t get used to having your face smashed in,” Nancy says. The words are harsh but her tone is soft, quiet.

Jonathan nods in agreement and his hand is warm where he rests it between Steve’s shoulder blades. “You look better without bruises.”

Steve warms, but he’s sure it’s impossible to tell with the mess that his face is.

“Come on,” he says, leading them inside.

He moves to lock the door behind them but Jonathan presses his hand more firmly against Steve’s back to keep him moving forward.

“I’ve got it,” Nancy says from behind them and he hears the lock turned into place.

Jonathan continues to guide him to the stairs, his hand warm through Steve’s shirt. It feels. Steve swallows, forces himself to finish the thought. It feels good, nice. He doesn’t get much in the way of casual touches anymore, except from Dustin, but the kid’s getting old enough he knows they’re going to become less and less, too.

Nancy walks past them, running a soft hand against Jonathan’s shoulder. She hesitates a moment but does the same to Steve before walking in front of them both, leading them up the stairs. Steve’s helpless to do anything but follow even if climbing the stairs is the last thing he wants to be doing right now.

“I’ve got you,” Jonathan says softly. His thumb rubs back and forth against Steve’s back where he still hasn’t removed his hand. Steve takes a deep breath and nods, grabbing the rail in a white knuckle grip. The first step up isn’t so bad. He wobbles on the second but Jonathan, true to his word, steadies him. Steve turns to thank him but the words get caught in his throat when he realizes just how close Jonathan’s face is to his own. The staircase is wide enough for both of them to walk up side by side, but not so big that they’re not in each other’s space.

Jonathan smiles. It’s small and tired, they’re all tired, but it’s genuine and Steve doesn’t know what to do but smile back before returning his attention to the task at hand: getting to his bedroom.

By the time they reach it, Nancy has one outfit laid out on his bed. She’s going through his dresser, grabbing an old Hawkins PE shirt she always used to steal when she stayed over. He swallows, but doesn’t say anything when she faces them.

“Those are for Jonathan,” she says, gesturing to the shirt and shorts on Steve’s bed. It’s warm enough that pajama pants would probably be too much. Probably a good thing, he’s not sure how well his clothes are going to fit Jonathan.

“Thanks,” Jonathan says, finally removing his hand and leaving Steve’s back feeling way too cold. Jonathan goes to Nancy first, pulling her into a soft kiss that is over too fast for Steve to have the chance to turn away from. His chest aches at the sight, but it’s so different from how he felt last November that it threatens to take his breath away. He’s not heartbroken or angry, just a little sad.

Jonathan pulls back, picks up Steve’s clothes from the bed, and leaves the room with a quiet, “Be right back.”

Nancy clears her throat, but Steve smiles at her. She shouldn’t feel awkward for kissing her boyfriend. Especially on a night when either of them could have died.

“Find what you need?” he asks. When her nose scrunches, the way it does when she’s confused, he points at the shirt in her hands.

“Oh,” she says quietly, “Yeah. I’m just gonna change real quick.”

“Sounds good,” Steve says, walking to his dresser to find something for himself.

“Just open the door when you’re ready,” she says, closing the door behind her.

Sighing, Steve opens the top drawer. He pauses to take in the shirt sitting at the top, corner of his lips twitching up. It’s a shirt Nancy bought for him when they were dating, something soft and big that he always said was more a gift for her because she liked to steal it when she didn’t insist he wear it to bed. He knows he didn’t leave it in the top drawer. He hasn’t worn it since they broke up but also couldn’t bear to throw it away so it’s been sitting in the bottom of his dresser for months.

When he takes it out the first thing he notices is how soft it still is. Smiling, he starts the slow, painful process of getting out of his bloodied Scoops uniform—which he is absolutely burning sometime in the near future—so he can pull on his favorite shirt.

*

Steve, dressed in the shirt Nancy left for him and the old PE shorts that go with the one she took, opens the door. Jonathan’s back is to the wall beside it, Nancy leaning into him, head on his chest. They look as tired as Steve feels.

“Let’s get some sleep,” he says, ready more than ever to climb into his bed and maybe never get out of it again.

Steve pulls the covers to the foot of the bed before falling face first on top of the sheets. He’s not even embarrassed at the way he moans, muscles finally able to relax after what has been probably the worst day of his life - and that’s saying something.

He expects them to curl up together on the side where he left the most room. It’s a big bed, part of why he offered his house to sleep with how crowded and crazy it would be everywhere else. That and he hadn’t wanted to be alone, which he thinks they understood when he offered.

Instead of taking that spot, though, the bed dips on either side of him.

“Mmm?”

Words are too difficult right now with his body finally relaxing for the first time in hours.

“Shh,” Nancy whispers, pushing at his shoulder until he’s not so flat on his stomach. She curls into the space she’s made. The way she still seems to fit so perfectly against him makes his chest clench, but he doesn’t have the energy to worry about it. Then Jonathan scoots closer behind him until Steve’s back is pressed up against Jonathan’s chest.

Jonathan stretches an arm across the both of them, pulling them so close together that Steve can hardly move. He thinks it should bother him. Not just because of who exactly it is that’s curled against and around him, but because he was tied so tightly he could hardly move earlier that night. This is nothing like that, though. Nancy is breathing into his neck, her hair tickling his chin in a way he never thought he’d get to experience again. Steve can feel Jonathan’s heartbeat against his chest.

This is the safest he’s felt in hours, days. Months even.

He’s barely finished the thought before he drifts off to sleep.