#plus nancy

[blushweddinggowns]

“I am sorry,” Eddie said for probably the millionth time, cringing at the glare Chrissy was sending his way. She wasn’t nuclear pissed but she was pissed, “Don’t look at me like that! You know I’d just be miserable if I went.”

Chrissy sighed, but she didn’t sound very surprised, “I just can’t believe after all that talk, you’re ditching me again.” 

Eddie shrugged, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. But his mind was already made up,  “I’ll owe you twice. But for now I’m staying right here.”

“Yeah, yeah. Cute boy trumps over me, I get it, ” Chrissy joked as she peered over at Steve, “Y’know, you could come with us. It’s only for a few months. And uh, you could bring a friend. Or two.”

It was actually kind of impressive, how fast Steve was able to move to cover Robin’s mouth. The yes was written all over her face, but Steve was ready to be the voice of reason, “Unfortunately, no. Nancy has the BAR exam in a few weeks and Robin has already been enlisted to help her through it.”

“Shame,” Chrissy sighed, laughing when Robin shook Steve’s hand away from her with a glare. But the lack of response made it clear she had no counterpoint. Chrissy went on, her eyes going back to Steve, “But that didn’t explain why you couldn’t go.”

Eddie watched, a little nervous about what he would say. Because while yes, it would be fun to drag Steve around the world on tour with his best friend, Eddie was kind of hoping to keep him to himself awhile longer. 

Steve blushed at the invitation, “That’s uh, quite the offer but-”

“But you should pay him if he goes,” Robin said bluntly, nodding Eddie’s way, “Especially if he quits his job for you. Honestly, I think you should reimburse him for the sick days he had to take because of your lying ass-”

Steve slapped her on the arm, his face on fire, “Robin!”

Chrissy just laughed as she watched them, “See? Stuff like this is exactly why I like you!”

Robin flushed at the compliment, but shrugged , “What? I’m just adding some realism to the whirlwind romance in case he fucks you over again.”

Huh. That was kind of a good point. Eddie hadn’t even thought of that. He didn’t know how it looked to literally add his boyfriend on to the payroll but…

“We could do a trust fund kind of thing?” Eddie offered instead, “That might be easier. No strings attached.”

“Irrevocable?” Robin asked, ignoring Steve trying and failing to shut her up again. 

“That would be the no strings attached part, yes.”

“Ooh, I like that-”

“He’s not going to pay me to be his boyfriend!” Steve interrupted with a huff, looking between them like they were the ones being unreasonable, “You can’t be serious about this.”

Eddie frowned, “Baby, it wouldn’t be paying you to be my boyfriend. You would get it if you dumped me or not. It would be more like…”

“A thank you for being his boyfriend!” Robin finished for him, “Honestly Steve, it’s the least he can do.”

Eddie nodded with her, “It really is.”

Steve stared at him, eyes wide, “Holy shit, you are literally insane. You are a crazy person.”

“Get used to that,” Chrissy sighed as she picked up her bag, “Now I gotta go. Hug me.”

Eddie did just that, sweeping her up into a big hug, one that took her clear off the ground. She laughed as he squeezed her, giving Eddie a quick kiss on the cheek goodbye. She did the same to Steve, though both of them politely looked away when she took things a little further with Robin. Even Eddie was a little surprised. He knew Chirssy could move fast but this seemed a little too… loving. Even for her. 

“I’ll call you when I get back. Just text me when Nancy gets off work,” She said quietly after she stepped back from her, a light flush to her cheeks, “I hope I can see you both again. It was fun.”

“I-yeah. Definitely,” Robin stuttered out, “Will do that. Yes.”

They all waved goodbye, watching her disappear into the airport before turning back for the car. 

“So,” Robin said as she got back into the backseat, “Trust fund. How do we make that happen?”

Steve groaned, covering his eyes with his hand, “Please stop trying to make me into an escort, Robin.”

“Oh my god, has love made you stupid?” Robin asked as she rolled her eyes, “He’s a millionaire who fucked you over. Why shouldn’t you get any money?”

“Babe, for the love of god shut the fuck up. He’s right here.”

“I don’t mind,” Eddie chimed in as he started the engine, “Besides, I think she’s right. It is the least I can do. I just don’t want to make you uncomfortable-

“That isn’t the insane part!” Steve interrupted, pinching the bridge of his nose as he took a deep breath, “Both of you… just stop talking.”

Eddie sighed but listened, glancing in the rearview for Robin’s reaction. She didn’t look pleased either, but when she caught his eye she perked up.

Text me about it, Robin mouthed at him through the mirror.

I will, Eddie mouthed back, snapping his mouth back closed when Steve glanced at him. 

Eddie didn’t think much of it after that. He dropped Robin and Steve off, texted her about the idea on and off throughout the day, checked in on Chrissy when she made it home, then picked Steve up from work. He made him dinner, listened as he talked about his shift, and then pulled him into his lap for some bad reality television. 

It was an incredibly normal night, one that Eddie still couldn’t believe he got to keep. But fuck, was he grateful. 

“Hey, baby?” Steve said around a half-hour in, his voice sleepy and adorable. 

Eddie couldn’t help but kiss his forehead, smiling down at him, “Yeah?”

“Can I see your phone?” Steve sweetly asked.

“Sure,” Eddie said, handing it right off to him. He had nothing to hide, not anymore. He was even back to the convenience of having one phone, his stupid extra donated to charity the day after he got Steve back. Besides, it made sense for Steve to have the code anyway, it was his birthday after all. He didn’t even think about it as Steve unlocked it.

He probably should have thought about it. 

“I fucking knew it,” Steve groaned before shoving the phone right back into his face, “What’s this?”

Eddie blinked at him, biting his lip as he was confronted with a pretty indepth trust plan with Robin. Eddie shrugged at him, guilty as charged when he answered, “You just told us to stop talking then. You never said we couldn’t bring it up later.”

from the next chapter of this fic

[korpintaideblogi]

i should put more women onto my art fight page...

[morganbritton132]

Steve: Can I cut your hair?

Jonathan: ?

Steve: You need a haircut and I can’t be any worse than your mom.

Jonathan: …yeah, I guess.

Steve: *is worse than his mom*

[byler-alarmist]

Bitch I know that librarian was happy to provide a rendezvous point for lesbians, based on the way she excitedly handed Ronance the keys and told them to have fun

[pinkolve]

Jonathan Byers- Polaroids

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Summary: You save Jonathan from Steve’s torment, forcing some awkward secrets to arise. Alternative: What happens when you find out Jonathan’s dirtiest secret?

Genre: Fluff, smut, kind of angst if you squint

CW: Second person point of view, use of y/n, Plus size!Reader, fem!Reader, Carol calls reader a ‘fatass’, reader doesn’t consider Jon’s spying on Nancy to be ‘creepy’, reader is kind of a perv, dirty polaroids, mentions of masturbat!on, reader’s age is not specifically stated, but she is old enough to drive, swearing, lots of swearing, reader threatens Carol, Nancy plays zero part even though she does in this same scene in the show, reader is implied to be an artist, art form is not disclosed, awkwardness, cringy writing, smut, smut, smutty smut, reader may not resonate with a lot of people, keep this in mind when you read, poor descriptions of sex, reader doesn’t wear a bra, Jon calls reader ‘sweetheart’ like…once, unprotected sex, creamp!e, p in v, reader is Dustin’s sister, reader and Jonathan get interrupted by Dustin, inaccurate timeline events, reader and Jonathan are interrupted because of a loose demogorgon, I think that’s it!!!

Word Count: 3.6k

A/N: Say hello to my longest fic yet!!! Please have mercy on me, this is only my second time writing smut. There isn’t nearly enough Jonathan fics, so I took it upon myself to write one. Enjoy, fellow Jonathan lovers!!

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You're walking from the school, towards the parking lot when you see five figures, standing near a car you also recognize. The closer you get, the clearer their faces get. Tommy, his bitchy girlfriend, Carol, and Steve fucking Harrington. You groan to yourself, forced to walk past them to get to your car. You watch Steve rip up some papers and throw them to the ground, you look to see whose they were and find…Jonathan? Steve reaches out and grabs his camera just as you get close enough. 

“Hey!” you yell, and run the rest of the way. You push yourself in front of him, next to Jonathan. “What’s going on?” You ask Steve.

“Nothing, just keep moving.” He responds simply, not daring to tear his eyes away from Jon. You scowl and look over at him, his eyes meet yours and they’re filled with nothing but terror. 

“Jon?” you ask softly. It’s a silent question, one he knows by heart. “Are you okay?” He widens his eyes slightly, a silent answer. “Help.” You turn back to Steve and take a step closer. “Give me the camera.” You demand, your voice steady and angry. He pulls his hand up out of your reach. 

“Why? Are you gonna give it back to him so he can take more pervy pictures?” Steve growls. Your eyebrows furrow as you turn to Jonathan. It’s written all over his face, the whole situation is a misunderstanding. You know Jon, and he isn’t a perv. 

“Just give me the fucking camera dickhead.” You growl back, looking at Steve again. 

“No. Why are you even trying to help this freak?!” Steve scoffs. 

“You better watch what the fuck you say next, Harrington.” You point at him. 

“Or what?” He seethes. You quickly grab his wrist and pull his hand down, then bring your knee up and shove it harshly into his crotch. He yelps and lets go of the camera. You snatch it into your grasp and pull away from Steve completely. He’s hunched over in pain, Tommy goes over to check on him. His girlfriend walks up to you and reaches for the camera, but you pull it back.

“Give us the fucking camera, fatass! You don’t even know what’s going on, so leave it alone.” Carol hisses.

“I suggest you back the fuck up,” you take a step closer, looming over her. “Before I bash your fucking head in with it.” You raise the camera up in your hand and wave it around. She backs up and over to Tommy, muttering something crude. 

You turn back to Jonathan and push the camera into his hands. You put your hand over his bicep and lead him towards your own car, since Steve’s entourage is surrounding his. 

“Come on, we’re taking my car.” You whisper. You glance behind yourself one more time, spotting Nancy. I hadn’t even noticed her before.

Jonathan gets in the passenger side, shutting his door. You start up the car and pull out of the parking lot, and onto the road. There’s a couple minutes of silence before he speaks. 

“They were pictures of Nancy.” He whispers.

“What?” You ask.

“The photos he ripped up, the reason he was angry…They were pictures of Nancy.” 

“Suggestive pictures?” Jonathan winces before responding.

“Yeah.” He turns to look out the car window. 

“He shouldn’t have assumed.” You mumble.

“Huh?” He turns back to face you. You look over at him before looking back at the road. 

“The pictures. He shouldn’t have assumed you were being gross. I mean…I understand why he did, most guys are like that. But he should have asked, or something before being a dick. If he had, based on your body language, and overall behavior, he would have known you didn’t take them for dirty reasons. He shouldn’t have just assumed.” 

“I guess.” Is all Jonathan responds with, turning to look out the window again. 

“Jonny.” You scold. “You need to start giving yourself more credit. You   aren’t that kind of guy, and if any of those fucking assholes even attempted to get to know you, they’d realize that.” You shake your head to yourself. “You take photos of all kinds of beautiful things, Nancy included.” You cringe a little, feeling jealousy bubble up. You shove it down. “The female body, or any human body, is beautiful. It’s fascinating, and you see that fascination. But since everyone sexualizes female anatomy, they assume any photo or artwork done of it, is for a gross reason. Especially assholes who wouldn’t understand true art even if it bit them in the dick.” Jonathan chuckles a little and looks down at his hands. 

“Thanks.” 

“Anytime.” You smile. 

“So…You don’t think I’m a perv? For taking those pictures?” He’s rubbing his fingers, he’s still anxious about something.

“No, not in the slightest. I actually understand your art, and your vision. Why do you ask?” You look over at him again, trying to meet his gaze. When he doesn’t look back, you stare at the road again. 

“Because…I’ve taken some other pictures.” His voice gets quieter. 

“Of who?” You ask, unsuspecting. 

“You.” You step on the breaks and the car screeches to a halt, pushing both of you forward. Jonathan finally looks at you with wide eyes. “Why’d you do tha-”

“You’ve taken pictures of me?” You cut him off. 

“Yeah.” 

“How many?” 

“I-I don’t know.” He looks away.

“Jonny.” You place your hand over his thigh, making him look back. “Answer the question.” 

“Hundreds.” He whispers. 

“I want to see them.” He looks in your eyes, seriously wondering if you're joking. You're not. 

“What?”

“I want to see them.” You say slower. He shakes his head to himself.

“Are you sure?”

“Jonathan, I wouldn’t say it if I wasn’t.” He shakes his head again and slowly reaches into his messenger bag. He digs for a short while before pulling out a small velvet pouch. He wordlessly hands it to you. You take it and open it slowly, moving your body to face him more. You pull out a heavy stack of polaroids. “I thought you didn’t shoot polaroid?” He nods.

“I usually don’t.” 

“So why did you for these?” You hold up the stack, still not looking at any of the pictures. 

“I’d rather not…Answer that.” He swallows. You roll your eyes and finally look down at the pictures. There’s a large variety of them, different angles, different shots. There are a lot of you laughing, and smiling. Some of you studying, your teeth biting into your bottom lip, a close-up of your mouth gnawing into one of your pens. Then you flip to the next one…You're lying in bed, the blankets torn away from you. Your large t-shirt had ridden up, showing your tiny, heart patterned panties. It must have been from one of your many sleepovers. You keep flipping through, finding more pictures like that one, just from different angles and different nights. 

The last one in the pile is of you, in the middle of getting undressed. Your shirt is half pulled over your head, the picture taken before you had fully taken it off. You bite back a smile, and look back up at Jon. 

“Jonathan?” You ask, his eyes are shut tight. He flinches a little at the sudden sound of your voice. 

“Yeah?”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure…”

“You have to be honest.” He sighs.

“Okay.” You go quiet for a second, looking back down at the photo. 

“Do you touch yourself to these?” You don’t look up, still staring at the pictures. You know what the answer probably is, but you're still afraid you've read the signs wrong. You hear his breath hitch, before he squeaks out a response. 

“Yeah.” You bite your bottom lip, rubbing over the picture with your fingers. “I’m really sorry…I didn’t want you to find out, I know it’s weird and I know I shouldn’t have taken them. You just looked so beautiful, and I didn’t-” 

“Jon.” You call out, making him stop his rambling. He looks over at you. You hand the stack back to him and turn to your backseat, pulling your own messenger bag from it. You open one of the pocket flaps and start digging through it. 

“Y/n?” He asks, obviously confused. 

“Hold on.” You say simply, finally finding what you needed and pulling it out. A small piece of fabric wrapped around your own stack of photos. You exhale softly before handing it to him. 

“What is this?”

“Just look.” He looks away from you and pulls away the fabric, finding your own collection of polaroids. They’re all of him. You hadn’t taken nearly as many, but you were never much of a photographer, you showed your art in different ways. 

He flips through them slowly. The first few are innocent, like his. Pictures of him hunched over a book, lying in your bed staring at the TV. One or two of him smiling, since it was such a rare occurrence lately. And then the dirtier ones…

There were several of him taken in summer, while you were at the pool. His bathing suit had ridden down, showing his v-line and light happy trail. The water dripping down from his hair. Another one, similar to that, but after he had turned around. The muscles of his back in full view. The next ones were the same as the ones he’d taken of you. The blankets had shifted, his smooth stomach and biceps shown perfectly. The moonlight hit him so deliciously. 

Jonathan was quiet for a moment as he stared at the last picture. 

“I touch myself to your pictures too.” You whisper. He looks up at you quickly. 

“Seriously?” His eyes are practically sparkling. 

“Yeah, seriously.” You huff out a laugh. He looks back at the pile of pictures. 

“What…Do we do now?” The question was ambiguous, but you knew exactly what he meant. You realize you don’t even have an answer. You grab your pictures from him, flipping the fabric over them and shoving them back in your bag. You throw it to the backseat again, and start up the car. “What are you   doing?” He asks, as he wraps up his own photos, and shoves them in his bag. You start driving without a word, making your way to your own house. “Y/n?”

“Just be quiet for the rest of the drive, please.” You beg, your breathing getting heavy. Jonathan only nods, looking back down at his hands in his lap. You think as you drive, think about this whole situation, about your feelings.

I’ve been in love with Jonathan Byers since I met him. I’ve wanted him since I met him. So what is there to even think about? He clearly wants me. But what if he doesn’t? What if somehow I’m still reading this all wrong? What if he likes the idea of being with me, but not of actually being with me? Your thoughts come to a halt as you pull up to your house. You stop the car near the edge of the curb, and shut it off. You snatch your bag back and pull it over your shoulder as you get out of the car, Jonathan follows you like a lost puppy. 

“Y/n? What are we doing here?” You both walk up to the house and you quickly unlock the door, pushing it open and letting Jon inside. You push it closed and lock it behind you, then turn to face him, locking eyes. “Y/n?” He asks softly. Fuck it. You throw your keys on the counter beside you and pull Jonathan’s face into yours, pushing your lips together. He kisses back but then pulls away. “What are we doing?”

“I’ve liked you since the first time I fucking saw you. I don’t know if you   have, or if you even like me at all. But if you want me just as much as I want you, then you’re gonna come to my bedroom and fuck me into the mattress.” You  don’t have time to say anything else, or even ask if that’s what he wants, because he kisses you again. He moves his lips against yours, like a dance. You  pull away from the front door and turn around, so you can back up towards your bedroom. You don’t dare break the kiss. 

He swipes his tongue across your bottom lip just as you reach your bedroom door. You push it open with your hip and shove your own tongue against his, twirling it around and mixing your saliva. It should be gross, how wet and slobbery it feels, but all you can think about is how you want more. Jonathan pushes the door shut with his foot, then pushes you onto your bed and pulls your lips apart. You whine at the loss and he crawls on top of you, caging you in with his tall frame. 

He pushes your lips together again as his hands push up your shirt, feeling your soft, plush skin. Jonathan reaches up and covers one of your breasts with his palm, moaning into your mouth at the realization that you're not wearing a bra. You whine, grabbing his wrist and arching into his touch. He pulls away quickly, tearing off his shoes and then his shirt. You copy his actions, and when he looks back down at you, your breasts are on full display. He groans, leaning down and wrapping his lips around one of your nipples. You moan softly, as he swipes his tongue across it. He switches to the other one while he starts to pull down your pants and underwear. He pauses but continues soon after, when you  make no protest to his actions. He throws them both on your floor and pulls away from your chest to pull down his own. 

You watch intently, forcing yourself to ignore how exposed you feel. His dick hits his stomach with a lewd smack when he pulls his underwear down. He throws his own clothes on the floor and leans down to kiss you again. You're so focused on his tongue in your mouth, you don’t even notice his hand moving down to touch you. You moan at the sudden feeling of his middle finger, running through your folds. You pull away from the kiss to whine. 

“You’re so wet.” He groans, looking down at his hand. 

“Not my fault You’re so…Fucking hot.” You squeal as he starts to push his finger inside of you. 

“I could say the same thing about you.” He sighs. You grip tightly onto his shoulder, digging your nails into his skin. 

“Jonathan.” You beg. 

“Hm?” He hums against your neck, licking a stripe up to your ear. 

“N-need you inside me.” He pulls away to look in your eyes, his hand stilling against you. 

“You sure?” 

“Never been so sure about anything in my life.” He nods and pecks your lips lightly, pulling his hand from you. You groan at the loss, and watch him as he licks his finger clean. “Shit.” You whimper. 

“Do you have…?” He trails off and you shake your head. 

“I’m clean, and on birth control…If you...?” You trail off too. His eyes widen at your words, processing what you’ve just said. 

“Yeah. Sure, yeah.” He responds, far too eagerly. You nod, insisting he continue. He looks down, grabbing hold of himself before looking back up. 

“Please, Jon.” You cry out. He shushes you softly.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to beg.” He pushes your hair from your face, looking back down as he guides himself to your entrance. You keep your gaze on his face, too nervous to watch as he slides himself inside of you. He moves his hand to your side as his tip pushes through your hole. You bite your lips, holding in any noises you want to make. He pushes in a little bit more before you stop him, pushing your palm against his stomach. 

“Just…Hold on, please.” Your voice cracks. 

“As long as you need.” He whispers, kissing your temple. He buries his head into your neck, inhaling lightly. You let yourself relax, opening yourself up for him. You move your hand to his shoulder, tapping it twice.

“You can move.” Your voice is quiet and nervous. He pecks your neck once before pulling away to look at where you both connect. He pushes in the rest of the way, not too quickly, but not slowly either. You cry out as he hits that one particular spot deep inside you. He tries to hold it back, but ends up letting out a low groan. 

“You feel so fucking good.” He sighs, pulling out of you halfway, before shoving himself back in. 

“You do too.” You hum, swallowing all of your noises. You don’t want to be loud, but Jonathan is determined to turn you into a screaming mess. After a few rolls of his hips, he starts moving faster. He pushes in and out of you with calculated thrusts. “Jonathan!” Your voice gets louder, whimpering more and more. He pushes your legs up into your chest, pinning them against you with his entire body. He thrusts into you deeper, and harder, making you cry out. 

“Fuck!” You scream.

“There you go.” He smirks, kissing down your neck. He continues his same pace, loving the sounds you’re making. 

“Jon! I’m s-so close…” You cut yourself off with another loud scream. 

“I’ve got you…Let go, sweetheart.” He lets out a moan of his own, nearing his own orgasm. You dig your nails into his arms, screaming like a wounded animal as you cum. You see nothing but white, stars dancing along the edges of your vision. Your body goes limp as you start to come down from your high, but still holding onto Jonathan’s arm like a lifeline. “Where…Where do you…” He lets out a low growl.

“Inside, please.” You cry, squeezing his arms. “Please, cum inside me.” He doesn’t have time to protest as he stills against you. Your words send him over the edge as he shoots his spend deep inside you. He heaves out heavy breaths as he comes down from his own high, pushing your foreheads together. You can feel his breath against your lips. His cum slowly leaks from you, falling onto the sheets and coating Jonathan’s cock. He leans in to kiss you, softer this time, saying all the things he can’t with words. 

“Y/n/n?! Are you home?! I saw your car outside!” Dustin’s voice rings out from the living room, his footsteps muffled against the carpet. You and Jonathan pull away from each other quickly, he jumps up from your bed to quickly lock the door. 

“Shit! He wasn’t supposed to be home for another two hours!” Jonathan turns to face you again, catching his clothes as you throw them to him. You pull your panties up, wincing at the wet feeling of Jonathan’s cum pushing against them. You ignore it and pull your pants on. 

“Y/n?” The door knob rattles, making Jonathan jump away from it. He stares at the door then at you. 

“Hold on, Dustin!” You yell, throwing your t-shirt over your head. You quickly walk towards the door, pushing Jonathan’s chest so he’s standing right beside it. You pull open the door and find a very disheveled Dustin. 

“You remember that thing I was telling you about yesterday?” He asks quickly. 

“The thing about the demogorgons?” Your eyes squint as you furrow your brows. “What about it?” 

“One’s kind of…On the loose, and we need all the help we can get. And since you’re so good with guns, I thought-” Jonathan quickly pushes you to the side, and pulls the door open more, looking at the curly-haired boy. 

“There’s a demogorgon out there?” He asks, panicked. “Where’s Will? Is he okay?” Dustin looks between you and Jonathan with a confused expression. You cover your eyes with one hand, thoroughly embarrassed. 

“What…What are you doing here?” Dustin asks. 

“Where is Will?” Jonathan asks again, but it sounds more like begging. 

“He’s back at his house with Mike and Lucus.” Dustin looks at you again and your red cheeks and his eyes widen with realization. “Were you two just-” Jonathan pushes past him and into the hallway, reaching his hand back to grab onto your arm and pull you with him. 

“We need to get over there right now.” He says. You pull your arm from his grasp and turn back towards your room. 

“Hold on.” You run back and grab your pistol from the drawer of your end table. “Come on, Dusty.” You pull on his wrist and he starts following you to the front door. Jonathan waves your car keys in his hand. 

“Are we going?” You snatch the keys from him and throw open the door. 

“Let’s go kill a fucking demogorgon.” The door slams shut behind the three of you. 

[that-thing-that-feeling]

MONSTER HUNTING TRIO FINALLY

[fragrantblossoms]

Nancy Spero. Artaud Painting– Je ne touche plus… , 1970. Gouache and gouache collage on paper.

[jancy-central]

Every time Jancy shippers have to see another post about Jonathan and Nancy dying in s5:

NOT GONNA HAPPEN.

[vanweezer]

unfinished jancy, idk when i started this. head bonk ❗

theres a lot about this that i would change if i ever got my mittens on a computer again, but i still enjoyed the process. would yall wanna see more unfinished work that i have in this style?

[sp0o0kylights]

 Part Five Part Two / Part Six YOU ARE HERE. / Part Seven

A03

"No come back here and hug me dammit!"

"I told you it'd be funny." Gareth stage whispered to Steve the following Monday, as Eddie proceeded to cause his usual amount of chaos in the lunchroom.

Tiff just shook her head.

"Come on, just do it and then tell everyone I'm better!" Eddie shrieked again, loud enough to be heard across the school. Possibly into the parking lot, given the winces and glares their peers tossed Eddie's way.

Jeff had his own head in his hands having been Eddie's prior cuddle victim and still suffering the consequences from it.

"I hate you." He groaned, and every single person knew he was talking to Gareth. "I cannot believe you told him his stupid hugs didn't even compare to Steve's. He almost broke my back this morning!"

Which wasn't an understatement--Gareth himself had dodged his best friend's aggressive hugs only by bolting to his first class, then acting like a ninja as he snuck about all day.

He'd even dropped to the floor and army-crawled at one point.

Now he stayed close to Steve, blatantly using the jock as a meat shield.

"Anyone have any ideas on how we can get him to chill out?" Stewart asked, from where he'd taken refuge under the lunch table.

Their second eldest member put up with many things, but drew the line at bodily injury by overly affectionate metalhead.

"Same as always." Jeff grumbled, making sure Gareth saw his glare. "We wait him out."

"Tiff!" Eddie whined, whirling around, hands reaching out for her.

"You touch me Munson and I'll burn the trigonometry notes I promised you." Tiffany threatened without looking up from her book.

"Fine." Eddie wheeled right back around. "Graaaaant-!"

"This could take days!" Stewart complained, acting like a man caged. "I can't wait much longer!"

'Dramatic, the whole lot of them.' Gareth thought fondly, knowing he was just as bad.

"Okay. Seriously, how are we fixing this?" Jeff said sourly, as Grant once again picked Eddie up by his jacket and bodily threw him as far away as he could.

Like an eldritch being from a B horror movie, Eddie simply bounced back up and came for him again.

"His issue is that he thinks I'm the better cuddler, right? Nothing else?" Steve said thoughtfully.

"Yes." Groaned the other four in unison, as Grant laid a hand on Eddie's forehead, the latter pinwheeling his arms like a cartoon character.

Steve nodded once, before his face morphed into something devastatingly smug. "Yeah we're screwed."

Jeff switched targets from Gareth to glare at Steve instead. "Really Harrington?"

"I'm back to Harrington now? Jeff, man, you wound me." Steve faked a gasp, putting a hand over his heart.

It made Gareth grin, if only because Steve wouldn't have done that a month ago. "God I love when you're a bitch."

Steve looked over at him and winked.

"Just for that, we should make you cuddle with him." Stewart grumbled. "Tell him he can decide for himself who's better!"

Which of course killed the playful look on Steve's face.

Two pairs of shoes proceeded to kick at Stewart (who dodged Jeff's only to be nailed by Tiffany's far more tactical aim.)

Except when Gareth though about it, it actually wasn't a half-bad idea.

If one pitched it right.

"You know," Gareth said slowly, a plan forming. It was half-baked, but it'd work. "--you could end this pretty easily if you did. You  have the power."

"Are we being serious right now?" Jeff grumped. "This does not feel like we're being serious."

Gareth ignore him.

"You up for one last cuddle, Sir Carrington?"  He asked, playfully.

He got a flat look in return. "You've got to be kidding me. You're seriously suggesting the solution here is for me and Eddie to cuddle."

"I am indeed." Gareth said with a grin. "So long as it's an absolutely terrible cuddle."

That got an interesting reaction.

"Good luck, I'm an amazing cuddler." Steve huffed, offended--and it looked like he actually believed it.

A curiosity, considering even with everyone announcing themselves before touching him he still got jumpy.

"Then pretend." Gareth wheedled. "You don't even have to do it for that long. Sneeze in his ear and he'll be done for."

He got a few grossed out looks for that, but it was worth it all to see Steve growing more comfortable with the idea.

"If I were to do anything of the sort I wouldn't sneeze in his ear." The jock retorted, but he looked contemplative.

"I'm sure you could come up with something else. " Gareth suggested, and gave his best, award winning smile as he said it. "You're creative when cornered."

No ulterior motives here, no sir!

"I know what you're doing, Gareth." Steve said, calling him out immediately. "But I might be convinced to take a hit for the team--for a price. My reputation would be on the line."

"What do you want?" Stewart asked immediately, more than a little desperate as Eddie carried on in the background.

"Well..." Steve trailed off, slowly meeting each and every one of them in the eye. "what are you offering?"

"You know what?" Jeff said, putting his head back in his hands. " Just for that, you and Gareth both are on my shit list."

"I'll bake you those marble brownies you wanted and get right back off it." Steve said, the smug air only growing as Jeff sighed loudly.

"Name your price, Harrington." Stewart said, talking over Jeff's second, overly dramatic sigh. "You want some D&D treasure, or an item for your character? You got it. You want a fucking," He paused, eyes scrunching up in thought. "--new basketball? Or whatever sport ball you're into right now?"

"Not even close." Steve told him.

Jeff sighed a third time, loud and obnoxious.

"Why does this always fall down to me?" Tiff asked the ceiling, as though God himself might respond back with the answer. She tilted her head back down, aiming to make eye contact with Steve. "You're in Rucker's class right? I'll write your poly-sci paper. Highest grade I will guarantee is a B, and that is because it would be suspicious if you looked like you suddenly had strong, A-grade opinions on current, geopolitical policies."

Steve snapped and pointed towards her. "Sold!" He called, mimicking an auctioneer.

Smooth as butter, he turned towards Hurricane Eddie. "Hey Munson!"

In two seconds the jock had summoned that cocky persona of his, wearing a smarmy smile like a cloak. It was getting easier and easier to tell which "bitchy Steve" was the real one and which one was a total front.

(Tiffany had decided the man was a mean girl at his core and honestly, the label stuck.

But Mean Girl Steve was a hell of a lot different than King Steve--or any of the other overly confident swaggering personas Steve adopted like a second skin.)

For for all the preparation he'd had, was still rigid most of the time Gareth had occupied his lap, only relaxing when the younger boy had gotten Eddie so wound up their eldest friend couldn't form coherent sentences.

Now, as Steve strode over and issued the challenge of a cuddle off during the next Hellfire game, he was already less stiff.

Eddie had that effect on people. Particularly ones who had crushes on him.

"This is the stupidest thing I've ever been involved in." Tiffany complained.

"Is it Tiff? Is it really?" Jeff challenged as he finally sat up.

"She's definitely forgetting the purple griffin incident." Grant said, completely ignoring what was going down on the other end of the table as he took advantage of Eddie being distracted to make his escape.

"Fine." Tiff conceded before anyone could list anything else off, "But it's at least in the top five."

"This Friday, Harrington." Eddie announced loudly then, fire in his eyes and a finger in Steve's face. "Me and you. It is on."

"Hope you're ready to lose." Steve taunted.

It was hilarious as it was ridiculous.

Which meant of course, that dumb shit had to get in the way of it.

xXx

Steve backslid the next morning.

Worse, he kept backsliding, growing worse throughout the week until the person left looked a whole lot like the guy they’d dragged to their table all those months ago.

He sat silently next to Eddie during lunch, only speaking if asked a direct question, all banter and playful bitchiness gone.

He avoided Hellfire’s members in the hallway, Stewart reporting he had been uncharacteristically silent during their one shared class.

Most damning?

He’d flinched when Eddie had done their dumb little “shoulder bumping” routine.

Which officially meant that ghost Steve was back.

(“I didn’t realize how Steve was our little ray of sunshine and positivity until he stopped being it.” Tiff complained, idly spinning a pencil in the library. “Worse, I didn’t think I’d miss it.”

Gareth, who definitely wasn’t skipping again, agreed wholeheartedly.)

Not even Eddie's antics got a smile out of Steve. He really tried too, to the point where Gareth was starting to worry his best friend was going to do something dramatic just to get a little chuckle.

Steve at least, picked up on the fact he was freaking out all of Hellfire when Grant started to get blunt with his questions.

A part of Gareth (the part that appreciated Grant’s bluntness, instead of the rest of him, that wanted to duck and cover in case it made things worse) was curious if this would finally get Steve to open up; but instead it just made things worse.

Within two direct “No really dude, what's wrong?” ’s, Steve retired the haunted act and instead brought the downright freaky return of one Hawkins' jock's doing a real good job at pretending he was okay.

Pity for him this wasn't Tommy H or the rest of the public Steve was trying to fool.

This was a group of people who tended to be hyper aware of things, ranging from their surroundings to their people. (And then went on to play, as Steve regularly teased them, “one giant math game about it.”)

Not a single one of them was fooled by the act, or the evasive answers Steve pulled out of his ass when the rest of them all, individually, in their own way, tried to figure out if their newest member was okay or just having a few bad days.

"He told me he wasn't feeling good." Jeff said, worrying his lip with his teeth when they all finally convened together after school to discuss it.

"Are we choosing to buy that?" Tiffany asked, one eyebrow raised in a challenge. "He's been off since Tuesday. It's Thursday."

Grant huffed an agreement, arms crossed over his chest.

"Devils advocate, people are typically sick for more than one day." Stewart pointed out. "Dudes probably got allergies or something, it is the end of May."

"It's not allergies." Gareth said flatly.

Allergies usually came with symptoms like coughing and sneezing.

They did not come with vacant stares and falling over one's feet when their friends said hello in the hallway.

"Well clearly he doesn't want to talk about it so maybe he'll just…work himself out of whatever it is." Jeff reasoned. "I don't know if we should really push him about it."

"And miss out on another week's worth of baking?" Stewart bemoaned, as if Steve's lack of treats was the sole reason they were concerned.

Tiff swiped at him with her paperback.

Interestingly, Eddie had yet to say much on the matter. Everyone knew he was just as worried. The guy was a secret teddy bear, and they all still knew to warn him if a dog so much as got hurt in a movie. Worse, Steve was one of his "sheepies" as he so lovingly called them all, and was notoriously defensive of Hellfire as a whole.

Gareth had been eyeing him throughout their little gathering, watching as his best friend tapped his foot anxiously.

The guy seemed lost in his own head and while it wasn't completely unusual, it too, was odd behavior.

Gareth squinted at him, making eye contact and asking if he was alright with the kind of subtle facial expressions only best friends could pull.

Eddie didn't respond, but instead, looked away.

'That's a no.' Gareth thought, as the conversation around them wound down, without anyone coming up with any solid plans on what they were going to do about the Steve situation.

This is exactly how he ended up following Eddie home.

"Inviting ourselves over I see." The elder teen muttered out of the corner of his mouth as Gareth chased him to his van, hopping into the passenger seat instead of heading for his bicycle.

"It's a good night for a smoke sess." Gareth responded casually.

"You hate smoking weed." Eddie returned with a snort. "You prefer edibles."

"Just think of what we could do with Harrington's baking skills." Gareth replied wistfully--but made sure to watch his friend.

There it was. The slightest of weird expressions, flitting over Eddie's face like a shadow before he hid it back into whatever cage it escaped from.

"You're worried." Gareth guessed. Not like that was a hard one.

"Aren't we all, Gare-Bear?" Eddie returned, eyes never leaving the road.

He pretended like he couldn't feel Gareth scanning him, taking in the too tense shoulders and the shuttered, guarded look on his face.

"You know something." Gareth guessed after a moment.

The declaration made his best friend flinch, hands squeezing tight on the wheel.

'Got you.'

"Are you going to spill or do I have to blackmail it out of you?"

"Please Gary you have nothing you could blackmail me with." Eddie challenged with a snort. "I am shameless."

A challenge that could not be ignored, if only because Gareth wanted to remind him who had had the upper hand since Steve had crashed into Hellfire.

"Really? So you wouldn't mind if I show Steve those photos of the time we dressed up as a Barbie “ken doll” band for Jeff’s sister’s birthday? You know, the one were you were wearing that pink boa and the star glasses--”

A hand shot out, clapping Gareth over the mouth.

"Thank you, I got it!" Eddie said, voice an octave higher than normal. "Why do you still even have that!?"

"My mom." Gareth managed to get out, even if it was horribly muffled between Eddie's bony fingers.

"Curse that woman's thirst for nostalgia and scrapbooks." Eddie hissed, as if his mom was some grand villain.

"You love her crafts, you ass." Gareth rolled his eyes, wiping his mouth when Eddie finally removed his hand. "Now spill."

"I'm not sure this is what's causing it." The elder cautioned after a pause just long enough to be dramatic. "But rumor has it his parents are home."

"You think they're why he's acting all…" Gareth trailed off, unsure of what to compare Steve to and not wanting to say a kicked dog.

Eddie hummed in agreement. "Every time I walk into Steve's house, the place starts off feeling like a living tomb. There’s got to be a reason for that, and the only one I can think of is that his parents want that. The tomby-ness."

Gareth leaned back in his seat, contemplating. Turned the idea of Steve's mysterious parents over in his head, comparing it to how the guy's house did have a sort of museum quietness to it.

It wasn't that the place was huge, or even that Steve was typically its solo occupant beyond the occasional weekends one or both of his parents "popped in."

It was the perfectness of it.

How on any given day a photographer could show up to take pictures and the place would be camera ready.

A sort of--trophy house.

He went on to tell his best friend this.

"It’s like a shrine to their success." Eddie added an hour later, when they'd resettled onto his couch, trying to break down just what exactly about Steve's house made it so weird.

They'd shared a beer each--some gross kind that a cat couldn't have gotten buzzed off of, and Gareth had just finished helping Eddie select their chosen flower to roll when an awkward sound erupted throughout the trailer.

If Gareth knew any better, he'd say it almost sounded like someone was knocking on the shitty aluminum door.

Couldn't be though, because he'd never in his life heard someone knock--Eddie's uncle Wayne had a key, and every member of Hellfire was aware that the window in Eddie's room had a broken lock.

To get it open you just had to push at it from a specific angle, and with a few tugs it'd come right up for you.

The noise came again, this time a little louder.

Gareth looked to Eddie, and found his friend holding all the weed.

Understanding flashed between them, and Gareth stood up to answer the door as Eddie magically made the drugs disappear.

Thankfully, it wasn't the cops.

"Hey." Steve said, standing awkwardly on Eddie's porch, looking like he desperately wanted inside but wasn't sure he'd be allowed in. "Eddie said I could just come over if I needed to…?"

He trailed off, awkwardly miming smoking with his fingers.

Gareth couldn't hold in the snort.

"You're in luck man, because I just finished rolling a few." He said, stepping back to let their wayward jock in.

"Hey Stevie." Eddie drawled, now in the process of making the weed reappear. "Come in, have a seat, take a puff."

Rather than sit on the admittedly small couch, Steve chose instead to drop his ass to the floor, leaving the open spot above him to Gareth. He waited until the younger was seated before he leaned back, broad shoulders brushing both his friends legs as he relaxed.

Eddie’s hand twitched, as though he wanted to run it through Steve’s hair and thought better of it.

(Knowing him as Gareth did, that was very likely exactly what the weird little movement of his was.)

“You wanna tell us what’s goin’ on?” Eddie said softly, long after all three of them had an inhale of the joint Eddie had lit, sitting in relaxed silence. "Cause you've been pretty down, Stevie."

"Yeah." Steve agreed hollowly. "Sorry."

Eddie nudged his leg with a foot, then offered him the blunt again. "Don't apologize man, we can't all be sunshine and rainbows."

“You’d be surprised at how many people expect an apology for just that.” Steve muttered.

Gareth traded careful looks over Steve’s head, Eddie turning back and resolutely plowing on.

“You don’t have to, but talking tends to make people feel better.”

“Does it?” Steve asked, before taking a slow, measured inhale of the joint.

Idly he added; "Gareth you can't roll for shit."

"Fuck you dude!" The younger teen exclaimed, instantly offended, but knew a redirect when he saw one. "You try rolling them then!" He snatched the joint out of Steve's hands, huffing audibly.

It was an offer. If Steve didn't want to take the opening Eddie had given him, he could instead take the out Gareth had given.

The option reminded him of Alice in Wonderland (Gareth’s actual favorite movie, even if he tells everyone else it's The Empire Strikes Back)

Specifically when Alice was lost, standing before a split path and asking advice from the Cheshire Cat.

Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?" Alice asks.

The Cheshire Cat spins its head, smiling its smile as it answers;“ That depends a good deal on where you want to get to."

Steve proved himself to be a stronger man that Gareth had given him credit for, and took the harder path.

"My parents are home." He said, eyes glued to the TV in front of him, as if that would make the conversation easier.

Perhaps it did.

Eddie to his credit, didn't treat the declaration as anything important. "Yeah? They bring you something nice back from New York?"

"Florida this time and no."

Steve fussed with a thread on his sweater for a moment, a single yellow thread unspooling from the end. It looked like he’d been tugging at it a lot, a small imperfection on an otherwise expensive looking piece of clothing.

"Apparently I've been such a disappointment they're demanding I get a job." He began again. "They want me to learn the realities of hard work."

Gareth traded puzzled glances with Eddie.

Steve had never shied from hard work.

Everyone had heard the story of how he’d won over every coach in Hawkins' High’s favor. It was practically school legend, since he was the first freshmen to take up and finish some bullshit exercise challenge they hosted every year.

The guy even had a herd of some of the most obnoxious children he looked after, without pay.

There was no way the source of whatever was eating at him was a summer job.

Or perhaps, not just a summer job.

"Summer jobs fucking suck, but I hear that new mall’s finally finished.” Gareth said hesitantly. “You could probably get in somewhere there before you head off to college.”

"I'm not going to college. Didn't get into any." Steve said flatly.

Ah-ha.

"I only applied to the one Nancy made me." He added, still refusing to look at either of them. "Couldn't bring myself to apply to any of the others."

Which--odd, but it wasn't the oddest thing ever. Some people just didn't like school, or traditional learning methods.

No matter how much Gareth's counselor insisted otherwise.

"My dad found that out too." Steve said after a moment.

"College isn't the fucking answer to life." Gareth continued. "There's plenty of other things you can do."

Eddie’s head cocked, like a dog who’d been presented with a puzzle.

Steve shrugged. "That's not my issue with it, but the old man thinks it is. He keeps insisting that the free rides are over now." His voice kicked into a deep mockery of his fathers at the end, the condescending tone coming through loud and clear. “Thinks I'm here to screw my girlfriend and party my life away. Wouldn't hear me about not wanting to go to college, at all. Definitely didn't care that I broke up with Nancy." The last part was muttered, almost said more to himself and for himself than it was for them.

Eddie’s head tilted the other way.

"Did you have an idea of what you wanted to do?" Gareth asked. He figured it they knew, they might be at least able to help.

He got a shrug in response.

Gareth was about to open his mouth--probably to put his foot in it, but hell if Steve wanted help brainstorming what he did want to do with his life, or at least get positive support from someone who wasn't a rich asshole, it might as well start here.

Eddie beat him to the punch though, because as usual, Eddie was able to track the weird unspoken thing that no one else could pick up on.

"It's the kids, isn't it?" Eddie asked softly. Reverently. "You don't want to leave Hawkins, because of the kids."

Steve took another sip of beer, waving off the joint Gareth offered him. For someone who'd come to smoke he'd barely touched it or the beer, but then no one here would push.

It was pretty obvious, (to Gareth anyway) that the weed had been a flimsy excuse to begin with.

"When those damn kids started trying to trap the--dogs." Steve started, correcting his slip so smoothly Gareth almost didn't pick up that he'd intended to say something else. “I was the only damn adult they could find.”

Steve gave up fiddling with his sweater to tug angrily at his beer tab, twisting and pulling at it.

"They had figured out where the dogs would be. Had an entire meat bucket they wanted to use as bait and but I was the only damn person to try and at least wrangle the little shits. You wanna know how they found me?" He picked up steam now, and Eddie couldn't even be satisfied that he'd managed to hit the nail on the head because clearly whatever was happening here was the actual thing Steve needed to get off his chest.

"Football practice?" Gareth asked mostly to fill in the tension-filled pause, and then ducked from the swat Eddie aimed his way.

Steve blew out a harsh, mocking breath.

"Dustin found me on the way to Nancy's house, where I was planning on apologizing. Had flowers and everything."

Oh.

Steve's tone said a hell of a lot more than that, the raw emotion making Gareth's own stomach roll.

A careful glance showed an equally punched-out expression on Eddie's face, the metalhead having physically reared back like Steve's words had struck him.

"What were you apologizing for?" He asked, recovering faster than Gareth could.

"Honestly man? I don't know." Steve laughed then, a harsh little disbelieving noise. "I just knew Nancy had said--well she said some shit while drunk, and wasn't able to say some shit sober, and I realized after that maybe I--I rushed her or something you know?"

He ran a hand through his hair, a self soothing behavior. "Or that I did, fuck I don't know. She's Nancy Wheeler, she's smarter than me by a longshot, so if she was mad, than I figured I must be at fault." Steve shrugged, like that was a fact of life.

Eddie interrupted immediately. "She's not smarter than you."

"I--what?"

"Nancy isn't smarter than you.' Eddie repeated firmly. "She's booksmart, Stevie. School smart. Nancy Wheeler absolutely owns tests and papers and things you need to study for, and she’s a hell of a researcher--but she's not people smart."

"What?" Steve repeated incredulously and there Gareth caught a flash of bitchy Steve.

The real one, who'd been shoved aside by the apathetic version.

"Have you ever seen that girl get fixated on something? She's tenacious, gets her teeth in and won't let go.” Eddie snapped his teeth, shaking his head while growling like a dog.

Gareth rolled his eyes, but a ghost of a smile graced Steve’s face.

“But she hasn't figured out how that hurts people yet. She's caught up in getting the results. She's not intentionally unkind, she's just--a little out of touch." Eddie flopped back against the couch, making a grabby gesture for the joint Gareth now held. “People like you--”

Here, he poked Steve in the chest, before reaching past him to wave his hand obnoxiously in Gareth’s face for the joint (and get smacked at for the effort) “are people smart.”

"That's not--no." Steve protested head jerking from Eddie's fingers to Eddie's face, but it was weak, his eyes wide as saucers.

"Yes.” Eddie mocked, but it was in jest, proven by the easy, soft smile he gave Steve. “You said it yourself. The kids go to you, man. They go to you even now, when Nancy or Jonathan could be driving them all over town. You get people; how they work, how they tick, what makes them happy or sad, and people are drawn to you because of that.”

“Jonathan drives.” Steve muttered in disagreement.

“And yet we all witnessed the clown car act when all those kids came out of your backseat two weekends ago.” Eddie refuted. “You’re just as smart as Nancy is, Steve. Just in a different way.”

Steve frowned.

“My parents don’t see it like that.”

“Your parents can get fucked, Sweetheart.”

That was pushing it, but Steve didn't comment on the nickname. Never commented on any nicknames Eddie came up with, beyond the occasional eye roll.

Which is right about when the phone rang.

They all glanced towards it, then down at their respective watches.

It was well past midnight.

"Think that's Wayne?" Gareth asked, eyebrows raising as Eddie stood to answer the phone.

His friend just shrugged, before picking up.

"Munson Mortuary, you stab em we slab em." He chirped as he pressed the phone to his ear.

"Tiffy-Taffy isn't it kinda late for--whoa." Eddies easy smile flipped, back going ramrod straight. "Slow down, what happened?" And oh, shit, that was Eddie's "somethings wrong and I'm going to fix it" voice.

Gareth sat up, making sure the joint Eddie had put down was out as he stared worriedly at Eddie.

"Okay. Gareth and Steve are with me, we're all coming." Eddie finished, prompting Steve to also sit up. "Stay there and for the love of God, tell Stewart not to touch anything else."

"What happened." Steve and Gareth demanded as one.

It'd be funny if the look on Eddie's face wasn't so serious.

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to break my promise about not going to the lab, Steve." He said, a hand going to tug anxiously at his hair.

"What?" Steve said, immediately on the defensive.

Then; "Why?"

"Because all our darling friends went to the Hawkin's lab without us. Apparently they ran into some kids on the way and now Stewart's stuck in a hole."

“All of them?” Gareth questioned, because sure, yeah he could see Stewart doing it. Could see Grant and even Jeff really, but Tiffany? Out exploring an abandoned lab that had killed people?

On a school night?

"She's gonna give us the full story when we get there, she called from the nearest payphone. Had some kid who kept interrupting her so she just gave me the basics, but apparently Stewart is really stuck, and for some reason the damn kids won't let anyone try to get him from some other door. They keep saying it's not safe or some shit." Eddie's anxious tugging grew as he moved to snatch up his wallet and keys, walking and talking as it were.

Gareth had expected a reaction out of Steve then, but  what he hadn't expected was Steve to surge to his feet in a near panic.

"Kids!?" He shouted, eyes wide and frantic.

Eddie flinched, but Gareth knew immediately what the jock was thinking.

"You don't think they're your feral pack of kids--do you?" He asked.

"It's always them so yes, yes I do." Steve snarled and for the first time that week, the guy looked alive.

Gareth just wished it was under better circumstances.

[lorax-devito]

I’ve been seeing a lot of ST posts about the monsters and stuff with the tags ‘horror’ and stuff,sometimes I forget ST is a horror and not a silly little show about 2 boys in love 😭

[pittsburghhockeybirds]

[bingbongsupremacy]

Closure Pt. 3

I'm taking requests! Please send you ideas in! I'd love to write them!

Pairing: Steve Harrington x plus size!reader

Warnings: swearing, anger, idk what else

Series Summary: You never knew Steve could be so shallow. When he leaves you to date Nancy Wheeler, you're left with a pain you thought he'd never leave with you. Maybe you should've stayed friends.

Part Summary: Robin invites you over for a small get-together before you leave, little did you know Steve was also invited.

*Not Proof Read* Stranger Things Masterlist

Based on Taylor Swift's Song Closure. This was a request. I tried to make everything as general as possible. Pls let me know if missed something ty. Also Eddie did not die in this.

Pt. 1 Pt. 2 Pt. 3

*****

It's just an hour. And it'll be nice to see everyone again. I mean, I haven't seen Robin in years. I wonder whatever happened with Vickie.

I press the doorbell of the older-looking apartment. A loud ring echoes from the other side of the door. Immediately, it's opened by an excited-looking Robin.

" You made it! " She grins, pulling me into a tight hug. Her hair's grown slightly but she still looks the same as she did in high school. " We have so much to catch up on. I haven't seen you in forever. "

" Of course I made it, Rob. I wouldn't miss this for the world. " I smile at the girl.

She leads me into the apartment, loud voices immediately flooding my ears. " Make yourself at home. There's snacks and games in the living room. And Eddie brought beer. There's a few people I invited that you might not know. I hope that's okay. "

" That's alright. I don't mind. "

" Well well well, look what the cat dragged in. " Eddie's playfully acts annoyed. His hands are on his hips, a pout on his lips. His arms support multiple new tattoos, some of which look fresher than others. " I thought you died. "

I roll my eyes. " Still alive and kicking. I see you're still a drama queen. "

Eddie gasps. " Am not. "

" It's good to see you, Ed. " I grin while hugging the slightly older man. " How's the band? "

" Better than ever. " Eddie pulls out a folded sheet of paper from his black jeans. He opens it, revealing this band logo on the very top. " We're playing multiple venues now. And we've been asked to go meet with some exec hot shots for a record label. " His excitement is evident in his tone. " We fucking did it, Y/N. "

" I'm so proud of you! "

The doorbell rings and Robin jumps up from her spot on the couch to answer the door.

A few muffled voices make their way down the hallway as Robin brings the guests further into apartment.

" What about you? What've you been up too? Livin' good up in the big city? " Eddie asks. His arms are splayed out comfortably on the top of the sofa behind him. His legs are lazily crossed out in front of him, his posture very casual.

I don't get to respond. A voice behind me grabs my attention.

" Y/N? "

I know that voice.

Steve.

I turn my head to see the man I'd been hoping to avoid for days now.

Fuck.

Steve's eyes are wide in confusion. He looks slightly older but still just as attractive as he did all those years before. His hair is still styled the same, only slightly longer.

" Steve? " I mumble in surprise.

" You two know each other? " Robin asks, a smile on her face. She has no idea about us.

I nod stiffly. " We did a long time ago. "

A small movement behind Steve's shoulder grabs my attention. Nancy Wheeler peeks over his shoulder, curious to who I am.

" Oh my, Y/N? " Nancy smiles warmly.

Even better.

" Hey, Nancy. " I greet politely. Moments ago this apartment felt fun and casual. Now it feels absolutely suffocating.

I thought I was done with Steve. I threw his shit away. Why is this bugging me so much? He's a stranger now.

Then why does he feel so familiar?

The doorbell rings again and Eddie lets out a grown. " How many people did you fucking invite, Robin? At this rate the whole towns gonna be here. "

" Shut up. It's the pizza. I'll be right back. " Robin rolls her eyes before disappearing into the hall.

" Didn't you two used to date? " Eddie asks out of the blue, pointing to Steve and I.

" Uh, yeah. " Steve nods awkwardly.

Eddie looks between Nancy and Steve. " Shit, you two dated too! "

Ten points to fucking sherlock over here. Really solving all the worlds greatest mysteries.

" Man, that's awkward. "

" You think? " I glare over at him. Of course, he had to bring that shit up, didn't he.

The room grows quiet. Nancy and Steve sit side by side on the ground across from Eddie and I. A small brown coffee table separates us, thankfully putting some distance between everyone.

" Who fucking died in here? Why are you guys so quiet? " Robin asks while carrying the pizzas in. " This is supposed to be a game night, guys. Not a sit-awkwardly-on-the-floor-in-weird-silence-and-stare-at-the-floor night. " She places the pizzas on an empty area on the coffee table. " I'm gonna grab some plates and napkins. When I come back I want everyone talking. " She playfully orders.

" So..." Eddie drags out the word awkwardly. He reaches into his pants and pulls out a small baggie filled with long white rolls. " Anyone want some weed? "

" You're not smoking weed in my apartment Munson! " Robin shouts from the kitchen.

This is going to be a long night.

*******

" I'm gonna go get some air. " I take one last swig of my beer before standing up.

Who knew Eddie and Robin were so competitive when it came to twister?

They don't seem to hear me over their loud trash-talking. Robin cackles loudly as she manages to contort her body somehow to get her arm onto a green circle. " It's alright, old man. You can give up now. We all know you've got fragile bones. "

" Shut the fuck up. You're just salty I kicked your ass at uno. " Eddie's voice dies down as I make it outside.

Outside is cold and quiet but it's a nice change from the loud environment inside. It's pretty late. Everyone is tucked in their houses, away from the streets.

I'd spent the last two hours debating if I should go home. Every time I'm about to say I need to go, thoughts about how I wouldn't need to leave if I didn't still feel sad about Steve start to pop up.

" Can we talk? "

" What's there to talk about, Steve? You sent me a letter. I read it. We're fine. " I reply stiffly.

" You never replied. " Steve steps out further onto Robins' front porch. He leans against the railing a step's length away from me.

I don't bother to look at him. " I didn't feel like it. I'm not into the whole letter thing. You know that. "

I've never been a fan of writing letters. It feels less personal than talking to someone else in person or on the phone.

Steve lets out a small sigh. From the corner of my eye, I spot the steam of his breath from the cold pre-winter air. " I'm sorry. "

" You broke my heart, Steve. " Anger bubbles in my chest. " You fucking broke it. Why did it take you so long to write to me? Why didn't you try to call? " I look over at him.

" I didn't know where you lived. You moved across the country, how was I supposed to get in contact with you? " Steve asks, his eyes staring into mine.

" That's bullshit Steve and you know it. If you really fucking wanted to you would've tried to get ahold of me. I was still at home the entire summer after graduation. You could've asked my mom for my number or-fuck even my address. You had options and you chose not to do anything. How am I supposed to believe you? " I feel my face heat up from anger.

" Admit it, Steve. You sent me that fucking letter because you feel guilty. You're ashamed of yourself. You wanted to smooth things over, make yourself feel better. Well, I'm sorry, but I'm just not ready to pretend nothing ever happened yet. It wasn't just the fact that you broke up with me, Steve. We were friends. Best friends, at least I thought so. You just threw our friendship away. " I let out a bitter laugh. " And the ironic part was you were worried that you telling me how you felt would ruin our friendship. No, you did that when you let other people's opinions into our relationship. "

" I was a fucking coward, Y/N! What do you want me to say? " He asks desperately. " I lived off of the opinions of others and that ultimately cost me the best fucking thing that happened to me. " He grips the cold railing in front of us tightly. " I lost you because I was too scared to be myself and I will never forgive myself because of that. " He sighs. " I don't want you to forgive me, Y/N. I just want to know you're okay. "

" I'm not okay, Steve. I-I'm so conflicted. " I gesture to the man. " I still love you and I'm so fucking angry about it. I shouldn't still love you but I do. "

" I still love you to. " Steve replies honestly. " I haven't stopped thinking about you. I wonder what you're up to and who you've become all the time. "

I miss him too.

" What do we do? " I ask after a moment of silence.

Steve shrugs. He looks defeated. " I don't know. "

" Are you and Nancy dating again? " I ask quietly.

Steve shakes his head. " What? No. We're just friends. We haven't dated since the end of Senior Year. She's with Jonathan. "

We fall into another silence.

" I'm not ready to date you again. I don't know if I ever will be. " I begin.

Steve nods sadly. He shoves his hands in his pockets. " I completely understand. "

" But I'm willing to try to be friends again. Only friends. "

Steve's eyes light up. " Really? " A small smile of relief breaks onto his face. " Thank you, Y/N. Thank you so much. I promise this is going to better than last time. I'll treat you better than last time. "

" This doesn't mean your forgiven, it just means I'm willing to try. "

Steve nods. " I get that. I won't let you down. "

Is this stupid?

Probably.

Will I get my heart broken again? I don't know.

But we only live once and who knows where this could go. Maybe Steve has changed. Maybe he's a better man.

I guess we'll see.

Steve Harrington, please don't break my heart again. Please.

Taglist: @sublimepenguinpeach-blog@queen-apple24

[francie-froo]

look at how they massacred my girl

[jonathanbyersphd]

No you don't UNDERSTAND the only difference in the flannel is a white strip.

[toad-games]

I’m pretty sure someone (@wayhavenots I think) has already talked about this but I think Wayhaven would have had more of a punch if the detective was an investigative journalist instead. The Bobby drama would be crazy, the guilt of having to hide this huge secret when your job is literally to uncover secrets, plus, you can just be nosy as hell instead of being a cop. I am seeing no downsides to this.