#will been-in-love-with-one-guy-since-middle-school byers

[sinclairstarz]

theyre so cringe

[kjsfandoms]

Lust and Love

Eddie Munson x Reader

Description: Eddie is dating the girl he's been pinning over for years- Chrissy Cunningham. What happens when a new girl enters his life?

Word Count: 3k

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Chrissy and Eddie have been dating for a good few months now and they both truly are happy. Eddie had been crushing on her since their middle school talent show and was insanely surprised when she came to him to buy drugs. The Chrissy Cunningham High buying drugs from him? He couldn’t believe it. 

Not long after their first deal, Chrissy started to realize that she really enjoyed Eddie’s company. One thing led to another and soon enough the freak of Hawkins High was dating the queen of Hawkins High.

Though they were dating and loved spending time together they still always made sure to have time for their friends. Hence why Eddie still sits at the hellfire table for lunch (also totally not because the majority of the popular kids hate him). 

One day during lunch as Eddie is sitting at the front of the table, munching on his pretzels, Dustin, Lucas, and Mike join him. “Hey, fellas.” Eddie says as the boys start eating their unpleasantly looking school lunch. They talk about DND for a good minute until Dustin turns around mid-conversation when he notices Y/N sit down at the table next to theirs.

“Hey, Y/N!”

“Hey there, Dustin.” Y/N replies as she takes off her headphones and gives him a friendly smile. Mike and Lucas then notice her as well and say their hellos. Eddie looks back and forth between the boys and this girl, Y/N. He takes in her appearance and notices the eyeliner, dark denim jeans, and the loosely hung Black Sabbath t-shirt. How the hell did these boys know this girl and why has he never seen her around?

She turns back to her own table and puts her headphones back on. He can briefly hear Judas Priest coming through them before being interrupted by Gareth sharing some more DND ideas.

— 

After school he walks Chrissy to her cheer practice before heading over to the drama room to set up for the upcoming hellfire session tonight. In there he spots Dustin who is also usually there sometimes to help Eddie set up. “Hey, man.” Eddie greets. “Hey, Eddie. I already set up everyone’s character sheets.” “Thanks, Henderson.”

As Eddie and Dustin continue to set up, the question from earlier still lingers on Eddie’s mind. Who was that girl? ‘Might as well ask’, he thinks to himself.

“Henderson, who was that girl you guys were saying hi to at lunch?”

“Oh, Y/N? We’ve known her for a few years now. She’s friends with Jonathan Byers so we met her by association. She’s really cool though. I’m surprised you guys have never met considering you have a lot in common. But why do you ask?” Dustin says as he pulls out some dice.

“Was just curious. Never seen her around.”

“Yeah, she can be more on the quiet and loner side, but she’s great when you get to know her.”

—

Hellfire went pretty good as Eddie had been playing that campaign for weeks now. The boys and Erica have already left by now, but he stayed back to clean up. As he’s putting away their chairs he hears the drama room doors open. In walks her. Y/N.

“Oh, hi! Sorry, didn’t know you guys were doing hellfire today. I’m just setting some things up for the talent show this weekend.” She says. That’s when Eddie notices her carrying two guitars and an amp. “Don’t worry, you’re all good. Just cleaning up. You want some help with that?” “Please,” she says with a breathy laugh, “carrying these all at once is not easy.” “Oh, trust me I know. I play in a band.” He says as he walks over to take the amp out of her arm.

They walk to the stage and as Eddie plugs in the amp Y/N sets up the guitars. Wanting to break the silence, Y/N asks, “So, you’re in a band. What do you play?” “Guitar. I also help write some of our songs.” Y/N looks up at him with a smile and says, “No way! I also play guitar and write songs. Though, it’s just for fun. I’m not in a band or anything.” Eddie looks shocked at this. He’s never met a girl that’s been into music like this, not to mention music that he likes. “That’s sick! Think I could hear one of your songs one day?” “Only if I get to hear one of yours.”

Continuing their conversation, they’re eventually interrupted when the drama doors open once again, this time revealing Chrissy. “Hey, babe!” Chrissy cheers and she walks over to give Eddie a hug. “Hey, Chris. How was practice?” Y/N watches as the obvious couple interact, slightly disappointed in the fact that he has a girlfriend. But Y/N isn’t the one to overstep boundaries and disrespect someone’s relationship, so she pushes those thoughts to the back of her mind. 

“Bye, Eddie, it was nice meeting you.” Y/N says with a smile as she starts to leave. 

“You too, Y/N.”

—

It's been a few weeks since the first interaction, but over those few weeks the two have created a friendship. They hang out every now and then, Eddie sharing his time between Y/N, Chrissy, and his hellfire friends.

This day in particular, Y/N and Eddie finally decided to act upon the deal they made when they first met, which was to hear each other's music. Eddie invited her over, but Y/N declined. She thought it’d be rude to hang out one on one with a man who is in a relationship inside his own home. Eddie understood where she was coming from, but assured her Chrissy knew. Still, she stuck to her word and the two agreed to meet up in the drama room after school instead.

“So, you wanna go first?” Y/N asks as the both of them sit criss cross on the stage floor, both holding guitars in their lap. “Why not.” Eddie replies as he takes his guitar pick off his neck and starts strumming. He opted to playing a more simple rock song of his rather than metal as he thought it’d be way too extra. When it came down to Y/N’s turn, she stuck to more of one of her indie-rock songs. 

“You’re better than I thought you’d be.” Eddie says with a playful grin.

 “Same for you, Munson.” 

“I’d like to state for the record, that was an easy song I played. I’m usually ten times more metal.” He says with a slight smirk, “You should really come watch me and my band play some time. We perform at the Hideout on Tuesdays. Maybe you could even perform one of your songs.”

“I’d love to watch you guys play, but as for me performing, hard pass. I’d rather stick to putting on a show for my stuffed animals rather than real people.” Y/N replies with a smile and small laugh.

“Oh, come on! I’ll be there to cheer you on. I bet your stuffed animals can’t do that.”

Y/N let out a dramatic playful gasp and jokingly says, “What?! Peter the pig always makes sure to give me a round-of-applause.” The two share a laugh and Eddie replies, “Fine. You can stick to your stuffed animal crowd. As for me, I can pick you up around seven after I pick up Chrissy, if that’s fine with you?”

“Sounds perfect.”

—

Tuesday comes around and Y/N is patiently waiting on her couch for Eddie. She eventually hears loud heavy rock music coming from outside and takes that as her cue to grab her things, not forgetting her guitar. Even though she said she didn't want to perform, she decided she wanted to surprise Eddie tonight by performing a new song of hers.

She runs outside and slides open the van door and greets Eddie and Chrissy as she goes to sit in the back. Soon enough they’re there and Eddie is parking the van. “I’m just gonna go help the boys set up. Are you guys good with waiting inside for a few minutes?” Eddie asks as they all start getting out of the van. “Yeah, that’s fine, Eds.” Chrissy replies back with a smile. Y/N had a few interactions with Chrissy since becoming friends with Eddie and from what she can tell, she’s the sweetest girl Y/N ever met. Eddie is a real lucky man, she must say.

As Y/N and Chrissy start walking inside, Chrissy notices the guitar case. “Oh, you’re playing too?!” Chrissy cheerfully asks. “Yeah, but don’t tell Eddie. Was gonna surprise him.” Y/N happily replies back, hoping that that didn’t upset Chrissy. Thankfully, Chrissy saw no problem with it and the two headed inside.

Chrissy takes a seat at one of the tables while Y/N places her guitar case next to the stage. They patiently wait and talk for a little bit as they wait for Eddie’s band. Soon enough, they hear the name ‘Corroded Coffin’ being announced on stage.

You watch as Eddie pours his heart and soul into his performance as his passion for guitar shines through. Chrissy wishes she could watch as deeply as you are, but she can’t help but pay attention to how whenever Eddie looks down at their table, his eyes travel to Y/N. 

—

The band finished up their last song and then walked off stage. As Eddie is putting his guitar back in his case, he hears the bar owner announce, “We have one more performance tonight! Please welcome, Y/N!”. Eddie perks up at this and immediately his attention is on the stage. Chrissy sees this. She nervously plays with the ribbon in her hair and looks at how Eddie’s eyes never left you as you walk onto the stage with your guitar.

Chrissy knows Eddie loves her, no doubt about it, but seeing the way Y/N and Eddie have bonded over the past few weeks, she knew his love for her was slowly decaying. They had so much in common, she should have seen it coming sooner. And Chrissy being the sweet girl that she is, couldn’t bring herself to be mad at it. She’s had her fair experiences with love and is well aware that you can’t choose who you fall for. 

She brings her focus back to the stage as Y/N starts playing guitar and eventually singing her most recent lyrics. ‘They even have similar writing styles’, Chrissy thinks to herself. She sighs and looks down at her hands. She loves Eddie, but this isn’t right. Chrissy isn’t the girl he wants anymore. Those years he spent pinning over her have gone to waste, which hurts Chrissy to admit.

She looked over at Eddie and that’s all it took for her to accept what was going to have to happen. His eyes were so full of admiration, lust, and love. The same way he used to look at her. 

Y/N walks off stage and Eddie immediately runs to her and gives her a hug so big he’s picking her off the ground. Y/N is first to break it as she knows Chrissy is right behind them. Chrissy notices this and sadly smiles to herself. She can’t even blame Y/N. She could tell how Y/N always made sure to respect their relationship and set boundaries. Y/N always made sure Eddie was spending more time with Chrissy than he was with her, she always made sure Eddie still walked Chrissy to practice after school even when he would offer to walk Y/N to her car, and she always made sure Eddie never stopped showing his love to Chrissy. 

Chrissy feels a tear slide down her face but quickly wipes it when the two of them start making their way over. 

“You guys were great!”, Chrissy cheers. 

“Thank you.” Both Eddie and Y/N say, almost in sync.

They finish up their night at the hideout with some fries and drinks then eventually head back out to Eddie’s van. Y/N is first to be dropped off which leaves the couple alone.

 “Eddie?”, Chrissy says sadly. 

“Yeah, Chris?” Eddie replies as he head bops to the music playing on the car radio.

“We need to talk.”

—

Eddie pulls up to Chrissy's house and stops the van in her driveway. “So, what did you want to talk about?” He asks.

 “I think we should break up.” 

Eddie sits in shock for a few moments before turning to face Chrissy and asks why. “Eddie, you know I love you and I know you have love for me. But you’re no longer in love with me.”, Chrissy says with watery eyes.

“Woah, woah, woah. What makes you think that, Chris?” Eddie says as he reaches for Chrissy’s hand, only for her to pull it away. “Don’t pretend like you don’t know, Eds. You like her, don’t you?”

At her words, Eddie looks down, refusing to make eye contact. His silence confirms Chrissy’s question. 

“It’s okay, Eddie.” “No, it’s not. It wasn’t supposed to go this way.” Eddie’s eyes start to gather tears as he still has yet to look up at Chrissy. “What do you mean?” Chrissy asks with furrowed eyebrows. “I mean,” he sighs before continuing, “I’ve had a crush on you for as long as I can remember. Never once have I ever felt that way towards another girl, so when me and you got together, I was the happiest man in the world. I truly started to believe that opposites do attract,” He finally looks up at Chrissy as he says, “but I think that’s only because I thought there was no other girl out there that was like me. But then I met Y/N.” Chrissy looks at him with sad eyes, but a soft smile. Eddie returns a sad smile back. “I really am sorry, Chris. This isn’t how I meant for things to go. But I do want you to know I truly was happy with you and I enjoyed our time together.” “It’s okay, Eddie. And me too. I don’t want to trap you in a relationship that you don’t want to be in.”

They sit in awkward, yet somewhat comforting silence for a moment before Chrissy asks one last question, “When did you know you fell for her?” “Today, actually. At the hideout.” This somewhat shocked Chrissy as she would've thought it’d be way earlier, though she lets Eddie continue, “Sure, these past few weeks my crush for her did start to develop, but it felt wrong considering I’m with- or well, I was with you, so I pushed the thought of being with her to the back of my mind. But seeing her today on that stage, I couldn’t hide it from myself anymore.” Eddie says, looking at his lap, somewhat disappointed at himself. He had been chasing Chrissy for years, and once he finally got the girl his heart decides to do a whole u-turn on him.

“Again, Chrissy, I really am sorry.” 

“It’s okay, Eddie. It’s okay. Go get her.” Chrissy says with a happier smile this time. Even though the smile was definitely forced, Eddie smiled back and gave Chrissy one last hug as a goodbye.

Eddie pulls out of Chrissy’s driveway and heads straight for Y/N’s house.

—

He climbs to her bedroom window and knocks. Y/N opens her curtains, not surprised to see Eddie as he surprised her with a similar visit a week ago for a quick smoke sesh. She opens the window and welcomes him in. 

“Hey, Y/N.” He pants out, slightly out of breath from climbing through your window.

“What’s up, Eddie?” Y/N asks. She notices Eddie is fidgeting with the rings on his fingers, a habit of his she recently noticed. 

“I wanted to talk to you about something. About us.” He says, head down as he can’t bring himself to make eye contact. He notices the shift in Y/N’s stance, sensing that she probably has an idea of what he’s about to say. 

“I like you.”

 She sighs before saying, “Eddie-” 

“I know,” Eddie cuts her off, “I know, I know, me and Chrissy. But we broke up.” Y/N looks up at him with shocked eyes and says, “What?! Why would you dump her for me?” Eddie grabs both of Y/N’s hands into his and looks her in the eye as he says, “She dumped me, Y/N.” Y/N takes her hands from his and puts them in her hair, slightly panicking. “No, no, no, no, I feel like a homewrecker, Eddie. This is wrong.” “I know it is, but I can’t control my feelings, Y/N.” 

He sits on the edge of her bed. She takes a seat next to him and deeply sighs. “I don’t even know what to say, Eddie.” He looks down at her and puts her hand in his once again. “Just say how you feel. If you don’t feel the same way, it’s fine. I can get up and leave and pretend this conversation didn’t even happen.” Y/N sighs once again as she responds, “Eddie, I like you too. But this feels so wrong.”

Eddie’s heart lightens at her confession. He smiles to himself before saying, “It’s all up to you, love. If it makes you feel any better, this was all Chrissy’s idea. I don’t want you to think she hates you for taking me away from her. None of this is your fault, okay?” He places a finger under her chin and lifts her face up to meet him eye to eye. He can tell how her eyes are full of so many different emotions right now, but he gives her a reassuring look.

“As much as I hate to admit it, I want to be with you, Eddie.”

“That’s all you had to say, sweetheart.” He replies with a smile, slowly bringing her face to his and letting their lips connect.

Y/N feels the guilt seep into her gut as she kisses Eddie, but can’t bring herself to stop. She had been crushing on this boy the moment she laid eyes on him. Sitting at the table next to his was totally not on purpose. She of course feels for Chrissy, but when Eddie and Y/N walked into school the next day hand in hand, she saw Chrissy give her a genuine smile and a thumbs up, and all of a sudden the guilt slowly started to disappear. 

[strangersteddierthings]

In the 19 years Steve's lived in this house, never once has he slammed his front door like that. Too scared of his parents' wrath should it have caused any damage.

It feels good.

He almost turns around to do it again, a fuck you to his parents and every decision they ever forced on him, but then he remembers. They're all in there. Nancy, Jonathan, Argyle, Eddie, Robin. In his living room, making declarations and decisions about Steve's life for him. Or, well, one of them is.

Like his parents do. Did?

He didn't grab his keys, wallet, or even his coat, but he's not going back for them. It's cold, sure, but Steve's sure his anger will keep him warm until he reaches a destination. Any destination.

He just doesn't understand why- Why they keep doing this to him.

Why he keeps letting them.

No. No, that's a lie. He keeps letting them because he knows, deep down, he's not a fighter. Not for himself.

He'll put himself between the ones he loves and danger in a heartbeat; he's done that since the first time he watched a petal-faced monster peel its way out of the Byers' wall in '83.

But his parents trained the fight right out of him when it came to himself. It was easier to not argue, to just do what they wanted. They'd smile at him when he was good. They'd take him with on shorter business trips when he behaved. His mom would even allow a quick hug if he impressed a shareholder with how well-mannered and quiet he was.

He won their affections with obedience.

He's never- Nancy and he love each other now, but in the same way they all love each other after having survived the horrors the Upside Down. But Nancy never loved him the way he'd once loved her. That was bullshit.

Even Robin and Dustin. He knows they love him now. Will love him forever, going forward, but both had admitted to having a predetermined idea of who Steve was and what he was like and they weren't wrong but they also weren't right because Steve's never been Steve a goddamn day in his life.

Steve hadn't even known Steve until monsters came into his life.

The way everyone used to refer to him as the Steve Harrington was a judgement all its own. A thing that he was, and had no say to be otherwise.

Even Eddie, in the Upside Down, and now, in his own house.

Steve finally feels like he might be becoming who he really is and he's surrounded by friends and it just made him stupid. He'd thought it was confidence, when he pulled Eddie aside to talk, to confess, but then-

Eddie telling him he's confused. Like Steve is a child learning new concepts and not an adult who has been questioning how he feels about men since he first noticed other boys in middle school.

Eddie telling him, 'you don't want this, man. Not really.'

It's not fair.

Robin came out to him, and he'd just wanted to make her laugh so she would quit looking so scared. Eddie came out to him, and Steve had thanked him for trusting him. Jonathan, Nancy, and Argyle confess to all dating each other and Steve congratulated them. But Steve comes out and gets told he's confused?

And Steve didn't even refute it. Just got so hurt he couldn't be there anymore. Left his own house because he'd told Eddie he had a crush on him, and asked if he'd like to go on a date sometime and Eddie said no and told him he was confused.

Eddie doesn't get to decide that for Steve! No one but himself can decide if he like guys or not. No one gets to tell him he's confused about what he's feeling.

It's- that's bullshit, is what it is!

Steve turns on his heel and marches back to his house. His hurt has fully morphed to anger now.

Steve hasn't run away from a fight since '83, and he's not going to start now.

He rips his front door open and is greeted to everyone just inside the door, in various states of putting their winter clothes back on. All the faces look concerned, but he scans for Eddie's.

Eddie who looks relieved for all of two seconds, when it seems to dawn on him that Steve is angry, and it's directed at him.

"The appropriate response," Steve growls as he steps through his door and punctuates those words by slamming it shut again. (It's not as satisfying this time, because he sees how it makes his friends jump.) He barrels on with his words, eyes never leaving Eddie, "when someone comes out to you, is to say 'thanks for telling me' or perhaps even 'thanks for trusting me' or, if one is so inclined, to just say 'cool, dude' but you don't get- you don't get to tell me I'm confused!"

Eddie takes a step back, knocking directly in Argyle, who steadies him, but he doesn't say anything.

Maybe Steve should be more calm about this, given the audience, but he's not able to stop the words now that they've started. "I'm not confused, and I know exactly what I'd be getting into. You don't get to- to try and make your rejection my fault. If you don't wanna date me, just say so. But you don't get to try and tell me how I feel about you!"

From the corner of his eye, he can see Nancy trying to subtly shift herself and Jonathan away from the door, probably to get out of what really should be a private conversation, but Jonathan's a bit preoccupied by catching Robin around the waist as she lunges towards Eddie.

"What the fuck did you say, Munson!" Robin growls, arms swinging out like she's going to claw Eddie to death.

Argyle has inched back a bit, putting distance between him and Eddie in case Robin breaks free. "You dudes should probably talk this out in private."

"Byers, if you don't let me go right now-"

"Robbie, I got this," Steve says, because Robin shouldn't be turning on Jonathan when he's done nothing wrong. Robin continues to glare at Eddie for a few seconds before she makes eyes contact with Steve. He raises his brows slight -I got this- and she furrows hers -are you sure?-, so he tilts his head -yes, really- and she deflates in Jonathan's arms and allows him to drag her away.

"We'll just be in the rec room," Nancy says, looping her arm through Argyles and following after Jonathan.

Eddie doesn't bolt, which is a bit more than Steve expected. They both just stare at each other until they hear the click of the rec room door.

"Steve-"

"That was fucked up, Eddie," Steve interrupts.

"Yeah. It was," Eddie says, but doesn't offer up more, even though Steve is waiting for an apology.

"That kind of reaction is exactly why I didn't come out sooner. What would be the fucking point if no one even believed me? Or worse, if you'd given me that kind of reaction like, six months ago, I probably never admit to liking guys out loud ever again. You can't just- you can't decide this kind of shit for other people!"

"I know! I- I freaked out, and panicked, and I'm sorry. I'm so sorry Steve," Eddie says, and he sounds sincere and looks almost fragile while saying it that Steve loses a bit of his steam. He doesn't want to just keep yelling at Eddie.

"Yeah. Well. Thanks for apologizing," Steve mutters, crossing his arms with a huff.

Eddie worries his bottom lip before he seems to gather all his courage and says, "have I fucked everything up between us?"

"No. Not- I'm going to, like, need some time to get over my crush, but no. It's- it'll just be take time-"

"No! I mean, I can't- if you don't, uh, like me like that anymore I get it, but I- what I meant was. Well. No, I guess that answered my question."

Steve is confused, now. For real, and not about his sexuality. "What?"

"What?"

"You did it again. Deciding for me if I liked you or not."

"Shit. Fuck! Sorry," Eddie drops his head into his hands and groans. "I'm fucking this up so bad."

"Than use, like, real, whole sentences and speak to me!"

"I like you!" Eddie blurts. "I have a crush on you, too, but I- I fucked it up!"

"Yeah. Kinda."

Eddie makes a really pathetic noise at that.

"Not so much we can't, like, figure it out, though," Steve offers. "Not, like, right now, because I'm hurt and angry, but like, I'm not going to stop liking you because of one fight. Not. Uh, not now that I know you like me, too."

"Oh," Eddie whispers, then frowns. "For real?"

Steve rolls his eyes. "I said it, didn't I?"

"Sorry, it's just, just good things don't happen to me. It's- I'm processing, okay."

Steve lets out a long-suffering sigh and heads towards the rec room. "If you want to leave to 'process' alone, I get it, but you're welcome to stay. We can get this party re-started and hang out."

Eddie's silent a moment, and Steve thinks he's going to ask if Steve's sure, but instead he gets a quiet, "yeah. I'd like to stay." and the sound of Eddie's footsteps following him to the rec room.

-

@i-less-than-three-you @nburkhardt @afewproblems @skepsiss

[ultimate-shipper-trash-blog]

The Epilogue

It starts off on a simple hot sunny day at the lake.

The kids are giggling and splashing water in each other's faces.

Dustin and Steve are off to the side getting the sandwiches ready. Steve is watching Eddie flip the boys into the water.

"I'm so glad we're all like this together. I never thought I'd even get you an Eddie into the same room."

"Well he's really changed a lot. Definitely since we were kids. I like being his friend, I think we're better for it." He finishes wrapping up the sandwich he's working on and ignores Dustin's eyes piercing into his skull. Behind him he hears another splash and some screaming.

"What."

"I didn't know you used to be friends."

"Friends? It's been a long time since I've been regarded as one of those."

"Be for real I didn't know you and Eddie used to hang out."

"Yeah we used to hang out all the time." Steve looks off into the distance wistfully.

"So what happened?"

"Well, we grew up. I grew up and Eddie grew up and we both grew into different people and Eddie didn't like how different we ended up being. It happens all the time. We didn't have monsters to bond us like you guys."

"Well that sucks, maybe you guys will reconnect as strong as you used to be."

Steve rustles Dustin's hair much to his complaint.

"We'll be fine champ, we're doing well now aren't we?"

"Yeah Stevie we are." They both spin around at the sound of Eddie's voice. He's giving them a confused look. Squinting his eyes at Steve like he doesn't know how to feel.

---

A long time ago

"Do you want to be friends?"

"Why?"

"I think you're cool."

"No you don't you just think I'm cool cause I'm in 4th grade and you're only in the baby 3rd grade class."

"Am not!"

"You are!"

"UGH...I'm Steve by the way."

"Eddie."

Middle school

"Steve there's something wrong with me."

"Don't be ridiculous Eddie, whatever it is we'll fix it."

"This can't be fixed."

"Dude just spit it out I won't get mad!"

"Ok...I have a crush...on a boy."

Eddie's eyes are welling up with tears.

"Hey it's ok Eds." Steve walks closer to him, slowly, like approaching a wounded animal.

"I won't judge you."

"Really?"

"Yeah! So what if you like boys I'll kick anyone's ass who says anything bad. You're still my best friend that's never going to change." He wraps Eddie up in the tightest hug he can muster.

"I love you Steve."

"I love you too Eds."

Before high school

"I just don't know why you're being like this!"

"What Steve? You can't believe I'm mad at you for blowing me off for your other friends?!"

"I wasn't blowing you off! I had basketball practice! Tommy's mom just drove me home dude it's not as crazy as you think it is."

"Oh really?!"

"Yeah! If anything you're being crazy!"

"Oh! If that's how it's gonna be then we don't need to be friends anymore."

Eddie's stomps off. So angry he doesn't hear Steve calling back out to him. The next time they interact, Tommy is pushing Eddie into a locker.

When Steve called Jonathan Byers a queer he remembers the promise he made to Eddie and promptly throws up afterwards.

When Robin comes out to Steve on the bathroom floor he thinks he has a second chance to prove himself. When she ends up being better than he imagines he is so thankful.

God he misses Eddie.

---

"Me and Stevie boy can pack up the car don't worry munchkins."

The two try to pick everything up but Eddie gets progressively angrier by the second. Steve is trying to figure out why he has personal beef with a cooler.

When they reach the car Eddie tries to shove everything in the trunk but it all falls apart.

"What's wrong."

"Me? Nothing, why?" he hastily folds the towels again, shoving them back in.

"Well...you're all huffy."

He spins around, his face getting closer, red with anger.

"You wanna know what my problem is?! I can't believe you told him that like I was the one to break things off, like you ever missed me, like you never hated me!"

"That's ridiculous! I've never hated you! You hated me!"

"No! You're the one who changed. You made the final decision!"

"Yeah because you pushed me away."

"You didn't fight me on it."

"I fought you everyday. Everyday I thought of you. Everyday with the name calling and the lockers, I was trying to get your attention."

"You think I wasn't? You think I stand on tables for fun?!"

"...it's all been a misunderstanding?"

The two stare at each other not even daring to blink.

"We wasted so much time, we could fix that, that is if you still want me"

"I never went a day without thinking of you."

he gets shy, his face darker than his sunburn.

"I know you've changed, I've dealt with that but a part of me still thinks you hate me. For what I am. What you'll hold against me. I don't know if I can handle being friends with you with that fear in my heart."

"I'd never. Ever. Do anything. Besides," Steve flicks his hair back. "Birds of a feather and all that." The blush on his cheeks is high and getting darker by the second.

"The what?"

"I'm uh kind of bisexual."

"Kind of?"

"Definitely. Definitely bisexual."

"Oh."

"Right um...so you won't have any problems from me. I hope that won't be a problem for you."

"No! Never! I'm just...surprised."

"Yeah you would be," Steve grumbles.

"What?"

"Nothing!"

----

Steve is sleeping in his bed when he feels something wrong. His eyes shoot open and he spots a figure standing over his body.

"Jesus Christ!" He shoots out of bed and is ready to grab his weapon when he registers who's in front of him.

"Eddie?" He says softly. "What're you doing here? You had a gig tonight, how did you get in my house? Why are you in my room-"

"Steve." Eddie's face is golden. The moon is reflecting into his eyes, shining so bright. He looks so happy, like he's going to cry. His smile is so bright.

"Steve. I got it."

"You go it?"

"The record deal. I got it."

Steve runs at him and Eddie catches him. Of course he did. He always will.

"Oh my god oh my god," he mutters into his shoulder. Eddie's arms are squeezing his waist tighter. "I'm so proud of you oh my god."

"Steve. I have to tell you something, that's what I came here to say."

"What's going on Eds? You never sound this serious." Eddie lets go of him and sits him down on the edge of the bed. Eddie lingers closer to the door like he's ready to make an exit.

"The recording studio is in Chicago."

"Oh."

"I leave in a week."

"Oh."

"I want you to go with me."

"What?"

Steve feels confusion run through him but he's not complaining. He'd follow Eddie anywhere.

"Yes! Ok! Let's go!"

Eddie smiles but it looks like it's causing him pain.

"There's a condition to you coming with me." He comes closer to Steve but still keeps his distance. "You need to know the truth before you agree to leave everything behind."

"What's going on Eds?"

"Ever since we were kids I've been in love with you. Big. Gay. Feelings. I want to hold you and kiss you and start a life with you. I know you're bi but that doesn't mean you'd be into me, especially considering our history. I was going to keep it a secret, never tell you, but it's not fair for you to be with me and not know my true intentions. I understand if you don't want to speak to me anymore but I'll do anything to keep our friendship. I've tried to forget you but have you met you? You're unforgettable. You're too damn loveable." He chuckles at that, eyes darting at every corner of the room.

"Eddie..."

"I understand-"

"Come here please."

"Um...no."

"Edddiiie," Steve whines. He stands and grabs Eddie's hands and drags him back to his bed laying him down. He crawls on top of him and tucks his head into Eddie's neck.

"I am very confused right now Steve."

"Thank you for telling me, I understand how scary that can be to share your feelings. The only thing is I can't believe you don't see how I feel!" He props his head up until their noses are touching. "I love you you idiot. I've been in love with you since forever. Of course I want to start a life with you and whatever else you wanted-"

"Kissing. I wanted kissing."

"And you'll get it."

Steve giggles into his mouth and the two kiss for what feels like forever. They finally break apart and keep their foreheads touching.

"So...Chicago?"

"Chicago."

-----

Eddie's suit jacket is grabbed and he's thrown into a bathroom stall.

"Oh my god I can't believe you did that."

"Steve how did you even get back here? Bribed a guard. He knew who I was anyway, congratulated me on having such a loving partner." He ends the sentence smashing their lips together shoving Eddie against the wall.

"Mmm well," Eddie pulls away. "I didn't know the next time I'd win a Grammy I wanted to make it count."

"Eddie you confessed your love for me and came out in your speech that was something...something so special. God all I wanted was to see you, be near you. I couldn't go another second not being by your side."

"A bathroom stall was the closest you could get huh?" He smirks.

Steve smirks, sinking to his knees. "What? It's not good enough for you?"

"Nope! It's perfect! Absolutely perfect sweetheart no complaints here.

----

"You want to marry...me?"

"Yeah baby why wouldn't I?"

"I- I...yes! Ok! Yes!"

----

It ends on a simple hot sunny day

seventy years later

"Hello everyone, my husband lived a long successful life. You may know him as the lead guitarist for the many bands he's been apart of during his long career. You knew him as Eddie Munson rockstar but I knew him as much more. I knew him as my love. My husband. An uncle to our little gremlins little gremlins. A friend to all. A supporter of all. He passed away yesterday from natural causes. I was asked by his Manger how I wanted to handle this and I knew I had to do it."

There are tears in his eyes as he stares down the camera but a small smile on his lips.

"He lives on through our friends and family. Through those who have watched him grow. Through his awards and his fans. Through his charity work. Most importantly he lives through his love. He loved so much. So hard. Everthing had meaning to him. Everything had purpose." He wipes a stray tear away.

"I'll see you soon my love."

The final epilougue is the next day, for the sweethearts could not live long without the other. They had already been making up for the time they did not know each other, for they time they spent ignoring each other. They couldn't spend another minute apart.

[skepsiss]

Tooth and Nail -pt1- Steddie

You asked for it @strangersteddierthings it uhh...... hurts a lot at the end. Probably have to do a part 2... or more.

Uuhh, it's kinda sad guys. Prompt was to write something where Eddie is the one that is in denial about his queer-ness and Steve is the one who makes him question his sexual identity. Full request here.

14A ish rating. TW: Miscommunication, denial, mild homophobia, suggestion of past trauma (child abuse), use of drugs (weed), mild physical aggression, the f-slur (not spoken to anyone), self-hatred.

PT1 PT2 PT3

---

Eddie Munson was a freak. He’d been labeled as such since he was a little boy with a teen mom who ended up marrying the asshole who got her pregnant. He was a freak when his mother left and a freak when his father went to jail; how no boy who lived that kind of life was normal by any stretch of the word.

It only got worse from there as he got older. A freak for being poor, a freak for having long hair, being a nerd, a metalhead, trailer-trash, drop out–the list went on and on. Eddie had also gotten good at being a freak. He got good at wearing it like armor so people were scared of him instead of just judgemental. He wanted those insults said to his face, not whispered behind his back and no way in hell was he going to take it lying down. It didn’t make things easy, but it was how you coped.

So, why? Why would he give himself another reason to be labeled a freak? 

Eddie would fight tooth and nail for any freak or weirdo he managed to befriend. It didn’t matter if you were fat, ugly, smart, dorky, a boy or a girl. It didn’t matter what blend or flavour you happened to be–even if Eddie was partial to the nerds and musicians–you were family as soon as you walked into Hawkins High. Once you were a freak you stayed a freak and it came with Eddie Munson as a perk.

As long as he lived. As long as he was in Hawkins. 

It wasn’t surprising to Eddie when he found out Will Byers was gay. He had seen it on him as soon as the boy’s missing poster went up and the subsequent reunion happened. He had never really gotten to know Jonathan–he was a weirdo, but not one that apparently liked Eddie’s flavour–but he, much like the rest of Hawkins, had breathed a sigh of relief was Will was delivered home. It was under weird circumstances and Eddie didn’t know much about middle schoolers, but he knew a freak when he saw one. Will was a nerd and he was gay which meant he was premo-meat to be fried by the masses.

If they were in school, if Will came back to Hawkins and Eddie was there he would have fought for him. It didn’t matter if he was gay because freaks and weirdos stuck together no matter the flavour. So when he found out Robin was gay he felt much the same. He didn’t have anything against queer folk and honestly, he saw them as being in a similar boat as him. He’d embrace someone who was gay way before he’d embrace someone who was Christian–even though he was neither of those things. 

Eddie had no love for the church and apparently, all the ‘f-words’ were all damned to hell so they might as well make it a party. Seemed like all the interesting people were hell-bound. 

Their little collective. Family. A regular bunch of Addams. 

So, why would he give himself another reason to be labeled a freak?

Eddie had been called everything under the sun as far as insults went. He was no stranger to ’bigot’  or ’devil’, ’sinner’ or ’faggot’. You learned not to react or give them a reason to keep poking. You learned not to take it seriously or let it chink your armor. None of it had to be true and denying it wouldn’t help, you just learned to _ignore_ it and tell yourself that they didn’t know you and their insults didn’t mean anything. Surround yourself with people that either love you or respect you and you’re golden. Listen to them, take their opinions, be yourself, and embrace your flavour.

When Steve came out as queer though, Eddie had no clue what to do. The idea that he would claim that label was beyond Eddie’s understanding especially since he hadn’t seen that confession coming from Steve of all people. He was a weirdo by proxy but… No, the thing that really bothered Eddie about that was his reaction. When he found out Robin and Will were as gay as they came he had gone out of his way to make sure they knew he didn’t have a problem with it. He made sure they felt like they were family and if everyone else ditched Eddie wouldn’t. 

Tooth and nail. Tooth and nail. 

But when Steve came out? Eddie had been shocked, for one thing, and secondly, he had felt his stomach drop out. Panic had flooded him and he was thankful that he wasn’t the only one in the room when it was said.

He had put an arm around Will and jostled him affectionately. He had cracked a joke and smiled at Robin before privately telling her that if she needed anything he was there. He had felt those reactions so naturally almost as if Will and Robin were just telling them all what college they’d be going to. Cool, doesn’t change a thing. Let me know if you need any help with stuff. Easy. Steve though? Steve…

While everyone else in their casual setting seemed to be nodding or not making a fuss–most of them used to this kind of thing by now–Eddie sat there petrified. What did he say? What did he do? Steve wasn’t some kid Eddie could rib and force into an affectionate headlock. He wasn’t a chick he could pretend to posture for so she felt like he had her back. He was… Steve.

Eddie had left that night feeling out of sorts. He hadn’t spoken to Steve and his subdued interaction was pointed out by anyone, but Eddie hadn’t left their little gathering feeling subdued at all. Outwardly maybe, but internally his mind had been locked in place over Steve saying I think I’m bisexual.

Okay… so what? Same as anyone else, right? Queer, whatever–certified freak, cool–so why was he twisted up about it?

Eddie had been spending a lot of time with Steve over the last few months and he wasn’t ashamed to admit that he actually liked his company. Steve was sarcastic and charming and a little bit of a bitch but it just made joking around with him easier. Once they had bridged the gap between ‘nerd shit’ and ‘jock shit’ it became easy to spend time with Steve. Eddie had watched Steve relax around him which literally looked like his body relaxing. You wouldn’t know it right away, but Steve was tense when he wasn’t comfortable around you: arms crossed, brows pinched, shoulders tight, jaw locked, and stance controlled. All of that fell away once he settled down and it was easy to be around him then. Eddie had actually enjoyed seeing the process of Steve relaxing around him as they played the NES with Dustin or sat outside and shared a joint without the rest of the goodies-goodies knowing.

He enjoyed Steve’s company, so what was he worried about? Was he scared Steve would come onto him? That was presumptuous of him and probably rude. He wasn’t scared of Will getting a crush on him or any other obviously gay guy he had seen at shows and bars. He’d even turned guys down which always seemed to embarrass them a bit and Eddie hated that he saw a flash of fear in their eyes when he told them he was straight. He always made sure to end the conversation with It’s cool, man. Don’t worry about it and then smile to show he meant no harm.

He liked queer folk. They were family. Why was Steve different? 

Eddie’s brain was stuck in fast-forward all night once he got home. He hated it when his brain did that to him. Every image flashed through his brain at supersonic speed and he couldn’t focus on anything. It was exhausting and frustrating and it literally felt like his mind was racing. The only thing that helped was imagining the sprawling darkness of space and slowly… very slowly… adding little pinpricks of light to the image. He had to force himself to slow down and from the outside, he knew it looked like he wasn’t doing anything. It looked like he was being lazy, but in reality, all the energy he usually exuded had just become internalized. 

He’d tell Steve it was fine. He’d made sure Steve knew he always had his support. That was what he was supposed to do. That was what he did for everyone else.

But when it happened–when he got his chance to have an aside with Steve–his gut had pulled and his tongue had gotten caught between his teeth. It happened the second time he tried too, and the third, and the fourth–each time he tried to talk to Steve one-on-one he clammed up. It was maddening really and Eddie had started to notice that Steve was suspicious of him–and not in a good way. 

The fifth time was different. The fifth time was worse. 

They had all been celebrating Max’s return home and as the kids got loud and the sun set it felt like one of those nights where Eddie just didn’t have the energy to be around this many people. He loved socializing–he loved the party–but sometimes it just became too much he could feel his mind drifting away from the scene.

Eddie had started his drift before looking up and catching Steve’s eye across the room. He was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and as he flicked his gaze up he slowly raised his hand to his mouth and mimed smoking. It didn’t take a genius to know what that meant and Eddie raised his brow in agreement before slinking away.

“I don’t have any on me,” Eddie explained as they stepped out into the dark, “but I’ve got some at home.”

His trailer was only a stone’s throw away from Max’s place so it wasn’t really a big deal. Weed sounded like a good idea too; he could smoke and bring him back to earth and maybe it would settle his nerves enough to properly talk to Steve. He _wanted_ to talk to Steve.

“We going to smoke here?” Steve asked as he followed Eddie inside the trailer. Wayne was out and Eddie didn’t have any qualms about Steve coming over to his place.

“Sure, might as well so the impressionable young children,” Eddie mocked, using a stuffy, posh voice, “don’t get tempted by our bad influence.”

He snickered as he touched his own chest, extending his hand skyward and acting as if he were delivering a Shakespearean speech. 

“Ms. Languard, is that you?” Steve mocked back, shoving Eddie’s shoulder so he’d continue his walk towards his bedroom. 

Eddie laughed again and stumbled down the hall, glad that they could at least joke around with each other still. Yeah, he’d smoke and then he’d properly let Steve know that being queer was cool with him and that they were blood-bonded for life already having survived a demonic war together. Steve would call him dramatic and they’d laugh over it and then things could go back to normal. 

Eddie had found one of his baggies of weed after tossing the laundry on his floor about the room for a few minutes before finally getting his stuff together so he could roll them a joint. The buds had been bitter and Eddie had jokingly apologized before hanging the blunt over to Steve to smoke. He had coughed and gagged at the flavour and Eddie had called him a pussy in good humour. Normal. They were acting normal.  

As the weed seeped in they got quieter though and Eddie felt himself drifting again as he sat on the foot of his bed. Steve was standing by the window so he could blow the smoke outside even though Eddie didn’t care about the smell. It was polite and Eddie could appreciate that at least.

“You okay?” Steve asked as Eddie caught himself staring blankly at the ground, knees tucked up to his chest.

“Oh–yeah, yeah, I’m fine, just thinking,” he admitted, blinking hard and then smiling at Steve. They shared a chuckle and Steve took a step forward to hand the joint over.

“Thinking about anything interesting?” He asked, carefully turning the blunt in his fingers so Eddie could grab it.

“Yeah, I guess so…” Eddie mumbled, taking a moment before finally putting his feet back on the floor and taking the smoke from Steve.

“You gunna share with the class?” Steve asked and Eddie giggled again at that, the joke was not that funny but the weed was getting to him.

It took another moment as Eddie smoked, his attention drifting a bit before he finally answered.

“I was thinking about what you said the other week,” Eddie admitted, trying to let the hold his anxieties had on him fade away. He could just let those fears slip through his fingers and he’d finally be able to say what he had been meaning to say for weeks now. Weed was good for that.

“The other week…” Eddie continued, and he stood slowly to pass the joint. Steve was staring at him with bemusement and confusion, obviously trying to follow along with what Eddie was saying. Eddie could feel that blanket of anxiety that had been wrapped around him slowly lifting. He didn’t have to think about anything, just say what he meant to say and then they’d be back to normal. 

“The other week when you uh, when you told everyone you were gay,” Eddie explained, nodding which got a pinched expression from Steve.

“Bisexual–bi,” he corrected, taking the blunt from Eddie and smoking it.

“Yeah, that,” Eddie answered, “it got me thinking about stuff…”

Eddie could feel himself getting distracted as his mind lost its grasp on the words he had been trying to deliver. He understood what he wanted to say–in sentiment–but he was having a hard time forming the words to go along with it. His attention kept on bending and then refocusing on other things that weren’t important. How his hair was tickling his ears a bit, and how bitter the weed tasted on the back of his tongue, and then to his room and how it was probably embarrassing to have Steve here when it was such a mess–he had to refocus on Steve.

“Uh, you, Steve,” Eddie tried, lifting his hand and poking Steve hard in the chest. He just had to drift his brain over to thinking about Steve.

“Yeah… me?” Steve replied, breathing a small laugh.

Eddie smiled, wondering for a moment if he was acting silly and if he was amusing Steve. He liked it when they joked and he had been missing that the last few days. He missed spending time with Steve. He wanted to tell him he accepted him. He wanted to tell Steve he’d always be there. He wanted to put him in a headlock, rib him, posture a little… see him relax… He wanted to see Steve’s posture change, his brows soften, and his mouth unpinch. And then everything would be normal. How they’d just go back to being freaks together.

Yeah, no more anxieties about all this, it was just Steve. It was just Steve.

“Eddie?” Steve asked and Eddie only vaguely registered that he was touching Steve’s face. He looked confused, but he was smiling, and all Eddie could think about was how beautiful his smile was. 

The next thing Eddie knew he was stepping forward as if in a slow dance and pushing Steve back towards the wall he had been leaning on. Steve didn’t fight him, but Eddie didn’t have the presence of mind to question what that meant. He was just moving them across the room so he could press flush against Steve and kiss him. The action had been so gentle Eddie had felt like he was dreaming through the whole thing like it wasn’t really him doing it. Steve shuttered under him and Eddie pulled back just far enough so he could see Steve’s expression. His eyes were closed and his brows were pinched together as if something painful had just happened.

They had kissed and Steve was in pain? They had kissed, why would Steve be in pain? They had kissed.

Eddie let go abruptly and stumbled backward as his anxieties plowed back into him.

“Sorry!” He said quickly, sticking his hands up in front of himself.

Steve didn’t move from the wall and as he opened his eyes slowly and a pang of guilt shot through Eddie. He stumbled back again as his knees hit the edge of the bed forcing him to sit down.

“Sorry, sorry–” Eddie offered, laughing now as his fear bubbled up. Why the hell had he done that? What the fuck was he doing?

“Sorry, man, I didn’t mean anything by it, I uh, was just curious.”

That was the reason, right? There probably wasn’t another reason that made sense. He had been high and his brain had just filtered through the possibilities and for some reason, it had settled on a kiss. Fucking weird, but he had never claimed to be normal.

“Curious?” Steve said back slowly as he came out of what seemed like a daze, “you were… curious?”

Eddie felt his throat getting tight and he was desperately trying to swallow the lump that was forming there.

“I was just joking around,” he offered a weak smile and Steve just stared at him. Eddie watched as his expression changed from dazzled confusion to anger. 

“What the fuck, man?” Steve bit out sounding insulted. He didn’t sound as angry as Eddie thought, but he did sound upset.

“Sorry, I dunno man, I’m high,” Eddie blurted, speaking to the first excuse that came to mind.

Steve just stared at him before shaking his head in disbelief. His frustration looked like it was building and that in turn was making Eddie shrink back.

“You’re unbelievable…” Steve muttered to himself, as he slowly turned to face his back to Eddie, his hands going to his hip, “unbelievable… what the fuck?”

“Sorry–” Eddie tried once more getting cut off this time as Steve snapped at him.

“Stop apologizing, okay?” He said slicing the air with his hand before settling back down and putting his hand back on his waist.

Eddie shut up and stared as he watched Steve’s shoulder bunch and his posture shift from relaxed to tense.

“Joking around… joking around?” Steve asked, his tone accusatory even though it was level. Eddie just gaped at him, not sure what to say if he wasn’t supposed to apologize anymore. The question seemed like it had been rhetorical anyway.

Eddie watched as Steve touched his own lips, squeezing them sharply as if he were thinking and trying to pull the sensation away from his mouth at the same time. 

“So, you were just curious to know–what? What it’s like to kiss a guy? To know if you like guys?” He asked, turning to look at Eddie again but not changing his posture at all.

“I don’t like guys, I’m straight,” Eddie said sharply, his stomach tightening, “I was just…”

Steve’s lip started to curl and Eddie shrunk back further, feeling guilty and embarrassed and ashamed in a way he didn’t know how to communicate. In a way he didn’t want to communicate.

“Just… joking around?” Steve repeated back, his dipping so his delivery lacked emotion. That had stung. That hurt more than Eddie thought it would.

Steve shook his head and raised the joint back to his lips to take a hit. 

“Yeah, real funny,” he started to say as he tossed the blunt at Eddie, “a regular riot. Just kiss your buddy Steve. It’s soooo fucking funny that he likes guys.”

Eddie could see that Steve’s cheeks were flushing as his voice hitched slightly. He was keeping it together but his expression was that of a man who had just been betrayed. He looked hurt. It looked like he had just bore his soul and Eddie had laughed in his face. Like he had been cruel for no other reason than to hurt him.

“Steve–” Eddie started, standing up, not sure what to do.

“You’re sorry, I get it,” Steve replied, stepping towards the door and starting to walk away.

“I didn’t mean it like that–” Eddie tried, hurrying after him and grabbing Steve’s shoulder to stop him from leaving. Steve tried to brush him off, but Eddie was determined to hold on.

Steve moved quickly then and it caught Eddie off guard as he grabbed his wrist and whipped around. Steve shoved hard and Eddie stumbled backward until he hit the wall, Steve’s forearm across his chest.

“Don’t–” Steve bit out, sticking his finger aggressively in Eddie’s face, “--fucking touch me.”

His tone was incredibly level but it was obvious that he was holding back real anger. It was easy to forget sometimes that Steve was an athlete. That he could run circles around everyone in the crew and was easily the strongest amongst them under the age of twenty-five. He had survived Russian torture and Eddie had witnessed him using that strength to help the party. Steve was resilient and he was strong… even if he rarely threw a punch. 

Eddie was too shocked to react properly and before he knew it Steve had let go of him and stormed out of the trailer. Fear rang Eddie like a bell as he stood there and listened as a car engine turned on and the sound of tires of gravel filtered through the open screendoor. He was shaking, he was sure, his body reacting to old memories and mortified by what had just transpired.

“Fuck…” Eddie mumbled, his throat tight and his lips feeling as if they were glued together.

“Fuck–” he repeated, heaving as he raised his hands to his face and pressed his wrists into his eyes.

“Fuck!” Eddie shouted feeling the tears build as he let his knees buckle under him. He slid down the wall and crumpled, hands still pressed into his eyes as he started to sob openly. He was soothing the memories of that scared child but he was also mourning Steve. It felt bad. Everything felt bad.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Eddie muttered to himself through his tears, his voice thick with phlegm, “what the fuck was that? Why did you do that? You fucking… asshole!”

He was bullying himself, he knew it, but he couldn’t help how upset he was. He was mad at himself for doing something unbelievably stupid and he was frustrated that he was reacting this way to it. But he couldn’t help that it felt like his heart was about to give out as he gasped in breath and his stomach filled with air. He was practically gulping as he forced himself to his feet and stumbled into the bathroom. It was like he was a little kid again. But that wasn’t fair–he didn’t get to act this way. He had been the one that had hurt Steve.

“Fuck,” he gagged, leaning over the sink and turning the tap on. A morbid part of him needed to look and see the fear and sorrow on his face so he looked up at the mirror and cringed at his own appearance. His face was red and tears wouldn’t stop flowing from his eyes. His upper lip had gathered snot and his mouth was turned grotesquely into an open frown.

“Stop it,” he swallowed, gritting his teeth as he stared at himself, “you don’t get to do that.”

Eddie gulped in another breath and stood up straight. He closed his eyes and forced his frustration inwards, forcing himself to just get over it.

“Stop it, stop it, stop it,” he mumbled, breathing out slowly as he tried to calm down, “stop it!” He flipped the switch from upset into anger, tears still running down his face but no longer hyperventilating.

“What the fuck was that?” he repeated, dropping his gaze to look at himself in the mirror again, “you–you… you fucking creep. Asshole. What the hell? You’re fucking straight. How the hell are you going to fix this, asshole? Why would you give yourself another reason to be labeled a freak?”

The words stung and Eddie swallowed hard, looking away from the mirror finally. He was calming down even if he didn’t feel better, pushing those emotions inside to deal with later. It was too raw right now, it was too much, he couldn’t do this right now.

Eddie let out a breath through gritted teeth and then moved back to the sink. He turned the water on full blast and then started yanking his rings off. He didn’t care where they fell, but once his hands were bare he cupped them under the water and splashed the cold liquid into his face. He gasped at the sensation and did it again, did it until he had washed all the snot and tears from his face, and then turned the faucet off.

Eddie hung his head over the sink for a long moment, breathing through his mouth as the water streamed off his face. He settled slowly and sucked in one last hard breath and then dried his face off.

“Fucking hell man…” Eddie said quietly, sounding more exasperated than anything now. 

He frowned deeply as he walked back into his bedroom. The joint they had been smoking was on the floor at the foot of his bed and it had started to singe a hole into the carpet. Eddie tisked and picked it up before stamping on the burn mark a few times to make sure it didn’t spread.

How the hell was he going to fix this?

Pt2

[justsomerandomfanfic]

The Deep End - Billy Hargrove X Female Reader

Title: The Deep End

Billy Hargrove X Female Reader

Additional Characters: Reader's mother (Mentioned), Billy's dad (Mentioned), Billy's mom (Briefly Mentioned), Will (Mentioned) Jonathan (Mentioned), the people of Hawkins (Mentioned), and Heather

WC: 4,670

Warnings: Pretending the Mind Flayer didn't possess Billy, Reader can't swim, Reader has anxiety, Reader is terrible at interacting with others mentioned, gossipping, sort of enemies to lovers mentioned, a bit of suggestion, a lot of italics, mention of abuse, mention of injuries, Reader is mentioned wearing a bathing suit (not specifically a bikini or one-piece, etc.), cursing, teasing, flirting, yelling, drowning, mention of panic attacks, Billy's feeling a bit guilty, slight angst, and fluff

It was hot. The summer sun was beating down on Hawkins, Indiana with no mercy. Sweltering rays of heat warmed every surface, from the sidewalk, the road, to the metal slides on playgrounds. There was no escaping this heat, nor the sun. Even with air conditioners on full force, sweat seemed to trickle down the nape of your neck, staining your thin shirt. 

Fanning yourself with a homemade paper fan, you slouched on the couch, hardly being able to pay attention to the TV that was playing some reruns of I Love Lucy. 

It was hot. And you were absolutely done with it.

There was only one place, in all of Hawkins, that you could go to that would and could help with the summer heat. One place that you hated going to. The mere thought of it filled you with dread. 

Hawkins pool. A mile or two from your house. Near the middle and high school. It was usually full of people during the summer, either sunbathing in lounging chairs or splashing in the chlorine pool. To anyone else, it was paradise in the very - crappy - small town. 

To you, it was hell. Screaming children, the chance of being splashed with cold water, older women ogling at young lifeguards, and just… A lot of people in general. 

You had only been there a handful of times, either with family or friends. In reality, if you had the chance, you wouldn't have gone in the first place. Every time you went, it felt like all of Hawkins was there. Too many people. You hated it. 

You weren't the most… Social of people. Which was kind of odd for the town of Hawkins. For example, some people thought you were weird. Like they thought Will and Jonathan Byers were weird. And people talked, they all hung out, they gossipped, partied, had potlucks, or barbecues in their backyards. 

You tried to get out of those situations, if you were ever invited to them, which wasn't very often thankfully. You weren't very good at communicating or having conversations that didn't just end with you subconsciously ending it for yourself and the other person. 

Even in school, you were pretty shy and introverted. You had hardly any friends, you only went to the book club - since it was quiet and you could read in peace - and you sat by yourself at lunch. And you enjoyed it. But now and then you would feel a little bit jealous. Seeing people chatting along with their friends, laughing and having fun. But it came to a point that you would rather focus on your studying or homework rather than pushing past your boundaries and trying to make friends. Too much of a hassle, you thought. 

So when Billy, the new kid in town, came to Hawkins, you never, in your wildest dreams, thought that he would ever notice you, or talk to you, or anything.

He was a popular guy, talkative, a ladies man, and a bad boy. He had friends, he had all the girls fawning over him, and he loved it. The attention, having such a reputation. He was so… Different from you.

So when he walked up to you at lunch, sat down in front of you, you could hardly believe what was happening. Why? Was the one word that circled in your mind. Why? 

It couldn't have been for any good reason, could it? Like with everyone else, he wanted something or needed something out of this interaction. You even let the thought of him just wanting to get in your pants pop up, but you brushed it off.

He did want something. And of course… He wanted you to help him with his homework. But not help him, he just wanted you to do it for him. Yay. For some reason, he thought since you were always reading all the time, that you would be smart enough to just do his work, but dumb enough to fall for his charm. 

Let's just say… That didn't work. 

You were smart - intelligent - Intuitive. You always had good grades and always made sure to keep them that way. You studied hard and enjoyed reading; whether from a book given to you for a lesson or from your shelf at home. You enjoyed school, since it busied your mind and gave you something to do. 

But that didn't mean that you were going to go so low as to just do his homework for him. It was his work to do, he could do it himself. 

And when telling him that, you expected him to roll his eyes, scoff maybe, and find some other smart and defenseless person to trick, and to never bother you again… Good riddance. But he didn't. He grinned. 

Oh, he kept coming back. Again, and again, and again. He just wouldn't let up. The first couple of times, he tried to convince you to do his work for him; he said that he just didn't have the time, or that he was going out for that night. As if he thought that was going to help him in this situation.

And after a while, of either ignoring or telling him you'd be late for class and walking away, he switched on you. 

Instead of asking for help, he went as far as to ask you out. 

Really?

You turned him down, every time. No, you didn't want to go to the diner after school for a milkshake. No, you didn't want to go see that new movie at the drive thru. No, you did not want to go to a party with him. Who did this guy think he was? 

It was irritating, everyday you would become paranoid from just the idea of Billy walking over to you at lunch, popping up beside you at your locker, or trying to talk to you during the two classes you shared with him. You had already gotten in trouble once. 

At the four month mark, though, Billy stopped trying to get you to go out with him, and started trying to get to know you? Or that was just what it seemed to be what he was doing. It was hard to tell, he was just so confusing, and irritating, and cute… God…

You hated him. So it became sort of a surprise to you when you and Billy started dating. 

And it wasn't just because Billy wanted to get in your pants or just check you off on his list as another person he's dated. To Billy, you weren't some prize to be won. You weren't someone to trick and fool with charming grins and flirtatious remarks.

You had your doubts in the beginning, but Billy proved himself and showed you that behind the facade of aggression and bad boy reputation, he was just highly misunderstood. His past and current trauma that he was suffering from at the hands of his father made him the hating and reckless person he was. But, deep down, he was hurting.

~~~

You never thought that, while watching a movie at your house, that Billy would rip off the bandaid and just tell you. And that was long before you had asked him where he had gotten the black eye from an hour before.

"It was my dad," His words rang out, seemingly echoing throughout your room; lingering.

The air was thick, as you swallowed, looking up at Billy who sat beside you, he stared at the TV screen. Your eyes flickered, noticing how soft and sad his blue eyes were, in such contrast to his hardened expression. 

"Billy…" You muttered, your heart breaking for him, your hand reaching out to curl around his arm.

Billy's jaw clenched, as did his fists, his knuckles turning white. "He has been since I was a kid." His voice was thick with emotion, though he tried to control it; still staring at the screen. You felt your eyes sting, biting your bottom lip so as to not let it tremble. "He's the reason my-" He couldn't finish, snapping his gaze from the TV and standing. 

Abruptly, he moved off the bed, clenched fists at his side as he faced away from you. You slid off the bed as well, but you did nothing more, in fear that if you got too close that Billy would close back up and or leave. 

"Billy, you don't have to continue." You spoke softly, watching as Billy only shook his head.

"I hate him." He muttered, his voice matching your own. You took your chance to walk closer, going around his side to stand in front of him. 

His expression broke you. That charming smile, mischievous glint in his eyes, it was all gone. In its place, was a broken young man, who just wanted to love and to be loved. 

Reaching out, you cupped his cheek, Billy's eyes closing before you dropped your hand to instead circle your arms around him, pulling him into a hug. Billy slowly did the same, his arms wrapping tightly around you, his hands resting on your back; fingers gripping your sweater with a death grip. 

He dug his face into your neck, letting out a shaky breath. It didn't take long until you felt his tears seeping into the soft fabric of your sweater, which only made you hold him tighter. 

The world was so cruel to him.

~~~

People still didn't believe that you and Billy were an item, more so at school. It annoyed you, but you ignored it, like you did with most things at school. Billy seemed to pay it no mind whatsoever. 

He'd go about his day like nothing happened. His arm looped over your shoulders as he walked you to class, lunch, to his car. He'd still do everything like he had before, minus flirting with others. He ignored every flutter of eyelashes and moved away from every suggestive arm caress. To some people, it seemed Billy was slowly changing to be a one gal guy. And people would look, stare, gossip. And that was the worst part, the gossip. 

"Oh, they won't last more than a month."

"A week tops! I heard that she's paying him to pretend to be her boyfriend."

"I don't know why Billy is wasting his time. He should be with me."

But all that didn't matter. What mattered was you and Billy. 

And you missed him. While you were stuck at home, dying of heat stroke, and Billy was at the pool, dying of heat stroke… Really, you could've been dying together. 

But no, he had to work. In the one place that you hated going to. The one place that you swore you'd never walk into voluntarily. Until today, right now.

Letting out a groan, you stood up, your skin sticking a bit to the couch as you did so. Trudging through the house, you continued to fan yourself as you climbed up the stairs and headed up to your room. 

Digging through your closet, you pulled out a small cardboard box. Rifling through it, you pulled out your old bathing suit. Lifting it up, you tilted your head before nodding; it should still fit. 

Grabbing your canvas tote bag, you stuffed your suit, and whatever else you needed into it before you left.

The drive was nothing more than relaxing. You turned the cold air all the way up, but you wished that the drive was longer. 

Your nerves had begun to overwhelm you once you parked. Looking out your driver's side window, you could already hear the screaming of children. It was going to be a nightmare… But less so since Billy was there. 

Letting out a breath, you pushed the door open, instantly hissing at the hot rays of the sun that were hitting you. Blinking your eyes, you begrudgingly shut your car door and walked over to the open gate.

Immediately, you felt tense. Feeling people's eyes upon you, even when they weren't even looking. The prickling on the back of your neck sent a chill down your spine. Swallowing thickly, you stepped in further, your eyes quickly finding Billy sitting on the lifeguard tower. 

You felt a breath leave you as you walked over, stopping to stand beside the tower. And though your nerves had died down somewhat from just being near Billy, the pool in front of you did not help. 

Looking up, you observed Billy. How he sort of slouched in his chair, legs spread, eyes surveying the pool goers, absentmindedly biting on the tip of his pool whistle. The sun beating down on him, a stern look on his face. It made you smile lightly, almost forgetting that you were even in Hawkins pool. Who gave him permission to be so God damn stunning? 

"Hey… B." You spoke up, quickly gaining the attention of the dirty blonde. 

He whipped his head around and down, his serious expression slipping away into a grin once he saw you. "Hey there, gorgeous." He greeted you before climbing down the lifeguard tower ladder. "What are you doing here? I thought you hated the pool." He continued once he was standing before you, giving you a slow once-over, chewing on some gum. 

You shrugged, "I missed you." Glancing around, you pivoted your weight from one foot to the other before looking back over at him. "... Aren't you supposed to be up in the tower, watching people?" You asked as you raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile slowly crawling on your face.

Billy only shook his head, his grin widening as he glanced around the pool, "I can watch them all perfectly fine from right here." He spoke, looking back at you before gesturing to your bag. "You swimming?" 

Smile faltered slightly, you shook your head. "I won't swim, but I'll definitely stand in it. It's so hot out." You glanced at the sky briefly, squinting, "Too hot."

Billy hummed, and again, you didn't miss the way his eyes raked over you. "Well, I'll watch out for you. Give you mouth to mouth if something bad happens."

Letting out a small laugh, you shook your head, "Yeah, sure, okay."

"Seriously," Billy answered, pointing a finger at you, a hardly stern look on his face, "Be safe."

You wanted to say that you'd be fine, it was just a pool after all, but you knew better. You'd make sure that you weren't close to the deep end, you knew that there was a steep decline into the deep water… And well, not knowing how to swim would probably be a problem at that point. 

But you only nodded, your smile softening, "I promise. I'll be fine." 

Turning around, you headed off to the changing rooms, but right before you could take your first step, you felt Billy take your hand; tugging you back around to face him. 

You opened your mouth to say something, but Billy didn't give you a chance. Leaning down, he pressed his lips to yours. Your eyes fluttered shut, physically melting as you let out a sigh. 

You felt dazed when he pulled back, a teasing grin on his face as he looked down at you. "See you in a minute, sunshine." He spoke, and you nodded; almost floating as you walked off to the changing rooms, hardly noticing some of the neighborhood mother's glares. 

You were on cloud nine, your mind completely glossing over you putting on your bathing suit until you stepped back out. You fell right down at the overwhelming sight of all the people. 

Did they multiply when you were in there?

Letting out a breath, you walked over to the steps of the pool, carefully stepping in, you were immediately greeted with the sweet chill of the water. Pushing away from the railing, you swerved past a couple of kids, mothers with their younger children and toddlers before finding yourself in the section of the pool where you felt the safest - the water hitting just below your chest. 

Looking up, your eyes met Billy's stare. At you spotting him on his perch, he let a small smirk find its way on his face; winking. You didn't even realize that you were smiling, shyly looking away and just chilling near the edge of the pool, back pressed to the concrete. 

It hadn't even been more than ten minutes when a few kids were splashing around near you, pushing each other by the shoulders into the water, only to pop up; their laughter merging with the already loud atmosphere. 

To get away from them, you slid to the side a few steps, wiping away the bits of water that managed to land on your face from their havoc. Though refreshing, it was a tad bit annoying. 

A sharp whistle rang out through the air, grabbing your attention and everyone else’s, “Hey, gasbags!” Billy yelled out at the kids that were rough-housing near you; they looked up at him in what seemed to be fear, “Don’t make me ban you from the pool!”

After that, you had grown less anxious by a considerable amount. You would feel your heart rate accelerate when someone got too close or when you accidentally made eye contact with someone as you were surveying the pool - awkward. But, for the most part, you were enjoying yourself, to the extent that you were in the perfect spot to casually look up and see Billy only feet away.

You only snapped your gaze away from your boyfriend when you felt something bump into you. You stumbled slightly to the side before fumbling backward. Your eyes widened as you felt yourself falling backwards, arms flailing, your feet dropping past the cliff in the pool.

You crashed to the water, slowly sinking to the bottom. Your mind had frozen, totally out of control as everything muffled around you. Your eyes were screwed shut, your mouth closed with the little bit of air you were able to gulp down in the process of falling. 

At the tightening of your chest, your eyes flew open, panic settling in. You tried to look around, the chlorine burning your eyes as you watched peoples' legs kick around in the water; like from a scene in Jaws. 

Trying to propel yourself up with your arms, you finally reached the bottom. Thrashing your arms, you pushed off the bottom of the pool with your legs, trying to reach up to break the surface, but it seemed so far away. When really, if you only had a bit more time, one last push would've made you break the surface. 

You felt tired, your chest burning as were your lungs and throat. Your eyes drooped, and suddenly, you inhaled. You felt like you were drowning. You were drowning. As the water filled your lungs, you watched with blurry vision as bubbles floated up to the dimming surface above. 

Your ringing ears slowly faded, your vision with it. And for some odd reason… You felt at peace.

With the little bit of consciousness that you had left, you felt something grab you and pull you up. What felt like hours, had only been a minute.

Suddenly, your eyes opened, and you turned on your side as pool water expelled from your mouth with force. You coughed, chest heaving as you choked on the remaining water in your mouth; the taste was foul. 

You felt a hand on your back - rubbing soothing circles - a voice speaking to you, or trying to. It was hard to make out what they were saying. Slowly, you were moved back to your back, your droopy eyes blinked heavily as you stared up at the person over you. 

Slowly but surely, your vision got better, allowing you to see a very distressed Billy. His mouth was moving, talking to you, no… Yelling. But your mind couldn't process it. What was he saying?

He lightly tapped your cheek with his palm, just as your hearing began to return, you suddenly felt really tired and your throat burned. Little droplets fell from his wet curls, landing on your neck and cheeks. 

"Y/N, can you hear me now?" He asked, and you nodded slowly. You watched as he let out a big sigh, taking you in his arms and helping you sit up. His warm hands, wet with the same pool water brushed over your face, pushing back your wet hair. His blue eyes, hurriedly and worriedly, checked over you swiftly for any sign of cuts, bruises before checking you for a concussion; which you did not have thankfully. "You scared me for a minute." He muttered, "Do you think you can stand up?" 

You opened your mouth to speak, "B…" Your throat burned, screaming out to you to stop, and so you did, just nodding instead.

"I know, I know…" Sowly, Billy helped you stand up, your hands holding onto his arms tightly. His hands gripped your waist and lower back, just in case he would have to catch you. That's when you noticed everyone staring. Everyone was watching you, everything was deathly quiet. You ducked your head down, as if that would help, closing your eyes tight, you felt your chest tighten once more. Billy, being the super attentive boyfriend he was, immediately noticed your oncoming panic attack, quickly and carefully leading you to the first aid room near the pool office and changing rooms. "Take my shift, Heather." He grumbled, passing the other lifeguard.

Looking up from the office window, she watched as Billy passed with you beside him. Huffing, she stood, "You owe me." She muttered before leaving the office to take his place as the lifeguard. 

Billy quickly opened the first aid room. It was bigger than a typical Janitor's closet, but small enough that it couldn't fit more than probably twenty people; if they all squished together shoulder to shoulder.

Sitting you down on a chair, you leaned back against the back of it, your head tilting to the side, your ear pressed to your shoulder. You watched as Billy pulled a large towel from a shelf, turned towards you and wrapped you in it. Rubbing his hands up and down your upper arms, Billy's eyes flickered over your face, the same distressed expression on his face. "Y/N, talk to me."

You blinked, lifting your head slightly, "I- I am never going into that pool again." You muttered, your voice still a bit rough, but getting better. 

And from your response, Billy cracked a small smile, a real, fond one. "You don't ever have to. You can sunbathe. Or, hell, bring a book with you if you want."

You nodded slowly, allowing yourself to smile, "That's a good idea."

Sighing, Billy pressed his hand into your cheek before grabbing the edge of the towel and gently drying your face and then hair. "When I said that I'd love to give you mouth to mouth… I didn't mean when you were drowning." He tried to joke, but inside he was still panicking. 

You did your best to do the same. You knew that if you started freaking out, then Billy would too. "I'm okay. I'm just tired." You blinked your burning eyes. "I think I want to go home." You murmured, and Billy nodded.

"Yeah, yeah, let's get you home." Helping you stand, he then helped get your things, and grabbed his, before punching out and leaving for your car. 

Buckling you in, you took his hand, "What about your car?" You had asked, but Billy shook his head.

"It'll be fine for tonight." He shut the passenger side door before hopping into the front seat. "You're more important." He muttered, and you almost didn't hear it once he turned the engine on. 

The entire drive home was silent. A tense fog in the air, breathable, but anxiety-filled. You wondered if he was angry at you, which you knew was ridiculous, but the thought popped into your head anyway. But the grip he had on your thigh, tight but comfortable, brought you out of that negative headspace. Your hand carefully laid over his, your thumb brushing along his knuckles. Pressing the side of your cheek into the passenger side window, you let yourself shut your eyes. 

~~~

When you next awoke, you were in your bed. Billy nowhere in sight. Blinking, you stared up at your creme ceiling, your fingers gently brushing up on your warm, blue comforter. And suddenly, you felt hot.

Kicking off the blankets, you at least kept part of the sheet near your feet, observing your yellow sleep shorts and one of Billy's shirts on you. Thank God you weren't still in that bathing suit. At this point, you wanted to burn it. Pushing your hands against your bed, you propped yourself up, scooting backward and leaning back on the headboard. Swallowing, you coughed lightly, taking a glance and noticing a small glass of water on your bedside table. 

Taking it, you took small sips, allowing your mind to process what had happened. You almost drowned. Billy saved you. You are alive. You are home. You replayed those words over and over in your head, trying to tell yourself that everything was okay. You were safe. 

At the light knock at your door, you looked up as it opened, Billy pausing briefly, meeting your eyes before walking in. He sat down on the edge of the bed, looking down at you, less worried, but with that same look in his eyes.

"Are you okay?" He asked, and you nodded. "Your mom said you were, her being a nurse and all."

You bit your lip briefly at the thought of Billy bringing you home and making sure you were alright with the help of your mom. "Yeah," You took his hand into yours, "I'm okay. Thanks to you."

Billy pursed his lips, eyes hardening ever so slightly as he turned his head to stare down onto his lap. He said nothing for a moment, his grip tightening in your hold slightly. "Why didn't you tell me that you couldn't swim?" He then asked, and you sighed, biting your bottom lip.

"It's embarrassing." You muttered, feeling your eyeballs sting with salty tears. "And I only went to get out of the heat. I didn't plan on going out that far, honest. I just tripped." You spoke, rushed, making Billy turn to look up at you.

"I'm not angry at you, if that's what you're thinking." He remarked, and you stopped, looking up at him. "I'm angry at myself. I should've kept my eyes on you like I said I would."

Shaking your head, you gave him a smile, "You didn't know that I can't swim. None of this is your fault." You shrugged a shoulder, “Plus, if you were watching me the entire time, you wouldn’t be protecting everyone else.”

After a few moments of silence, of gazing into each other's eyes, he spoke, "I'm giving you lessons." He gestured to the door, "Your mom, she was pissed when I told her what happened. She asked me to teach you."

Huffing, you rolled your eyes. "I never want to swim or even go near that pool again." You groaned, and Billy nodded.

"You never have to, but I'll gladly teach you only when you want to learn." He answered, earning a hesitant nod from you.

Another moment passed, "Thank you, Billy." You whispered, sniffling lightly as you looked at him.

His smile, small but genuine, sent shivers down your spine, "Don't mention it." He muttered, leaning forward to press his lips to the center of your forehead. Tracing his fingers along your cheek, you pressed your hand to his, keeping it on your cheek.

"Are you staying the night?" You alee softly, and Billy smirked, his half-lidded eyes bored into yours.

"I was planning on it." He leaned back down to brush his lips against yours. "Any movie suggestions?" 

Shutting your eyes, you answered, "Anything but Jaws." 

[oh-stars]

Escape Plan

Party

a Stobin Month 2024 prompt | 611 words | CW: drug dealing, party | Rating: T

--

“You didn’t have to come with,” Eddie says as he counts the money some kid just handed him.

Steve shrugs and sips at the beer he snagged. “It’s not too bad.” 

“Remind you of your glory days?” Eddie smirks and looks up at Steve from beneath long lashes and the thick curtain of his bangs. 

“Hardly,” Steve says with a snort. They’re at one of the last parties of summer, before the graduates head off to college or wherever they’re fucking off to that isn’t Hawkins. Not that Steve would know. He’s not bitter about Robin going to college in less than a week while he’s still here trying to figure out what he and Eddie want to do. Not at all.

Eddie laughs softly. “Oh, right, right, this too tame for good ol’ King Steve?” 

“Will you fuck off?” Steve says, bumping Eddie’s shoulder and laughing along with him. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Steve sees someone walk out of the sliding glass door and onto the back patio. Robin! He turns toward her like a reflex, eyes locking on to where she’s bouncing on her heels, her thumbs tracing the grooves of her palms over and over again where her hands are clasped in front of her. 

Time to go.

“How much longer do you need to stay?” Steve asks, setting down his beer. He won’t be picking it back up. He’s barely drunk it, only just hitting the halfway point. Not that it matters, Eddie’s the one driving home tonight.

Eddie shrugs. “Weed’s gone, I have a little more coke I could probably sell, but otherwise, the rest of this is a gamble anyway.” 

“So… we can leave?” 

“You just said it wasn’t too bad!” 

Steve hops off the table they were sitting on and motions toward the door. “Not for me.” 

Eddie’s eyes follow his movement, then soften in understanding. “Meet you at the van?” 

“Deal.” 

Steve takes off, slipping between the drunk and dancing party-goers to find Robin. 

She’s clinging to the wall, stuck in conversation with Matty W, a guy who's been obsessed with Robin since middle school. She’s giving him a too tight smile and nodding her head frequently, another clear sign that she’s at her limit. 

“Rob, hey,” Steve says, throwing an arm over her, “we have to go. Hop’s on his way.” 

As Robin’s eyes gleam with understanding and something warm, Matty W backs away to spread the word that Chief Hopper’s on his way. She keeps his arm around her until they make it to the front yard, slipping out from under him quickly to dart to the van. 

Steve follows after and catapults himself into the passenger seat in time for Eddie to pull off. In the rearview mirror, Steve can see a number of kids fleeing the house.

“Isn’t Hopper with the Byers on vacation?” Robin asks, leaning forward to poke her head between the seats. 

“Yup.” 

“So you just busted a party on his behalf for no reason?” 

Steve shakes his head. “Eddie was done dealing and you were ready to get out of there. That’s reason enough.” 

Eddie rolls his eyes, but he’s laughing. He reaches over and pats Steve’s thigh, hand lingering. “You’re something else, sweetheart.” 

Robin lays her head on Steve’s shoulder. “I can’t believe you’d break up a party for me. How the mighty have fallen.” 

“Both of you can fuck off,” Steve says, even though his smile is giving him away. 

“Shut up, dingus, you love us,” Robin coos. Steve flips her the bird and turns up the stereo, blasting his playlist much to Eddie’s chagrin. They can deal with it.

--

Thank you @lady-lostmind for beta reading!

Ao3 Link

[thaliagracesgf]

chapter one: the vanishing of will byers

a/n: the first chapter! I really got cooking on this one i was so so excited about it once i started writing! I hope it’s good, i have lots of ideas for the future and have started mapping out where this is going to go. i'm not sure what the overall title of this fic is going to be though... hope you enjoy, and let me know if you’d like to be added to a taglist for this story! reblog, comment, and interact if you enjoy it (or if you don’t)! I’d love to hear all your thoughts <3

wc: 3.9k

divider from @saradika-graphics, images from pinterest

general CWs, not necessarily all in this chapter: drinking, alcoholism, drug abuse, smoking, cancer, hopper being kind of a deadbeat, usual canon violence. not entirely proofread.

masterlist (incl. series)

The sprinklers are going as you turn the corner onto the Wheeler’s street. Your music is turned low, and the windows are rolled down, letting in the early November breeze. You see yellow lights from the basement windows as you pull into the driveway, and the shadows of four middle school boys jumping around. As you stop the car, you can hear complaining drift out through an open window. Mrs. Wheeler must have been telling them their time was up. 

You trip over a rock on your way to the front door, ringing the doorbell and brushing dirt off your hands. “Hi Mr. Wheeler,” you smile as he opens the door. 

“Oh, great another one,” he mutters. You’re pretty sure he thinks you can’t hear him. “Karen! There’s another child at our door.” He turns back to you, probably trying to figure out which one of his children you’re here for. You try not to be offended, as you’re sure you don’t look like a seventh grader, although you wouldn’t put it past Ted Wheeler to not know how old his son is. In his defense, though, you are here for the seventh graders. 

“Hi, sweetheart,” Karen moves past her husband. “Thank you so much for picking them up, I don’t think I’d be able to get them out of that basement. I was down a second ago and three of them were crawling under the tables doing god knows what.”

“It’s no problem, Mrs. Wheeler. Do you mind if I…” You gesture vaguely towards the basement. 

“Please, be my guest.” 

“Or don’t,” her husband adds unhelpfully. You give him an awkward nod as you pass him by. 

“Guys!” You shout from the top few steps of Mike Wheeler’s basement. “Let’s go, I don’t have all day!” 

“What, like you have a date or something?” Mike rushes up past you. 

“Oh, go to hell,” you sneer. You love Mike, you really do. You’ve been babysitting his friends since you were thirteen, and you appreciate the level to which he can match your level of sarcasm and insult that would appear genuine to anyone in the audience. He’d never admit it, but you know he likes that you’re around, too. 

“Dustin! Lucas!” you shout again. “Hurry up!” 

They come bounding up the stairs, Dustin with a pizza box tucked under his arm. “I’m gonna see if Nancy wants a slice,” he says with his mouth full. He’s had a crush on her forever, at this point, and you would find it endearing if you didn’t have a World History quiz to study for that night. 

“Fine. Be fast,” you say, then following behind him. You watch the painful interaction before catching the door as she tries to shut it. 

“Hey, Nance.” 

“Oh, hey, one sec, Barb,” she says, putting the phone down.

“How’re you doing with that essay?” You have to rely on Nancy, because among the bizarre group of friends you’ve found yourself in, she’s the only other one that actually cares about her grades, other than Barb, but she doesn’t really show her face often. Or speak much, if she does. You know that your friends can be intimidating, but you don’t really know how to reach out. You don’t think you have anything in common. 

“Okay, I guess. I can’t figure out how to order all my arguments.” 

“Oh my god, yes, I am having the exact same problem! Study sesh tomorrow, figure it out?” 

She smiles. “Yeah, definitely. One?”

“Yeah, that works. And you can tell me everything you’re telling Barb right now about Steve.” She blushes, looking down at the sleeves of her sweater. 

“Yeah, okay. Sure. Hey, weren’t you just with him?” You were. You’d spent the day driving around with him, Tina, Tommy, and Carol. 

“Yeah,” you smile devilishly. “He wouldn’t stop talking about you.” You turn and head back down the stairs, where you can see the boys getting impatient. 

“Hey! You can’t just leave that there,” she calls after you, and you laugh. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow! One o’clock!”

“Y/N!”

“Bye!”

You rush down the stairs, past Ted Wheeler in his La-Z-Boy, who makes a point to sigh loudly at the noise. You see Will talking to Mike in the garage. He looks upset, but you figure it’s some Dungeons & Dragons thing you won’t understand. “You guys ready?” you ask Lucas and Dustin, and they nod. 

“We’ve been ready,” Lucas adds, impatiently. 

“Okay! Well, we’re going now. Get the bikes in the trunk.” They do as they’re told, however begrudgingly. “Will, you want a ride halfway? You can have shotgun if you want.”

“Yeah!” He smiles, whatever had been bothering him vanishing. “Can I put my bike in, too?” You smile and nod, although it hurts a little how much you see your shy, people-pleasing self in him—his friends wouldn’t have hesitated to toss theirs in, banging up your car, but Will asks, and then fits it gently in the trunk so as to not crash it into the rear of your already beat-up, dysfunctional car. You know it’s probably because the Byers’ don’t have money, either. 

“Yeah, just toss it in.” He wheels it over to his friends, as Mike watches from the garage door. You give him a wave goodnight, and he returns it, although his eyes are watching a rock he’s kicking around with his shoe. 

“Hey! Out!” You snap your fingers at Dustin as he tries to sit in the passenger seat. “Will.” 

Dustin groans, but there’s no point arguing. “This is bullshit,” he grumbles as he moves to the backseat, next to Lucas, who elbows him when he gets too close. 

“Language.” You reach for your CDs, passing them to Will. “Pick out whatever, dude.” And you back out of the Wheeler’s drive. 

You dropped Will off at the top of the hill, by Dustin’s house. He insisted he could make it the rest of the way, and seeing your unsure expression, he assured you that Jonathan was there waiting for him. 

“Alright, sure. Be safe!” You call as he rides away. 

Turning the car around in the Henderson’s driveway, you head back across town to the trailer park. You park your car, grabbing your bag from the back, and trudge up the three steps to your front door. To no one’s surprise, your dad is passed out on the couch, beer cans on the table and pill bottles knocked over. You roll your eyes, tossing the cans in the garbage and screwing the caps back on the bottles before putting him in his bathroom mirror. 

A few years ago, Hopper had gotten bored with the lack of activity in Hawkins, and you came home from school to a wall chopped down. You slept with a tarp covering it for a few weeks, until he had built an extra half of your trailer, making the whole structure look like an “L,” and giving you your own room and, after deliberation on water and electricity bills on his part, bathroom, presumably to stop you coming across the obscene amount of pills in his. Obviously, it did not have the desired effect. 

Unintentionally, you’ve fallen into responsibility for so many people in your life, whether you’re babysitting for Dustin and the Sinclairs, or your father. You think it’s why you’re still friends with the people you are. Tina’s been your best friend since kindergarten, since Sarah died and you moved to Indiana. The two of you plotted to end up friends with Steve and Tommy H, who seemed so cool on the basketball courts at recess. Tommy, and later Carol, were so sure of themselves, so confident in everything they did, and still are now, that though they can be assholes, and you know that they’re assholes, you can’t help but feel lighter around them—they’ve got each other in their perfect, asshole ways, to sort through all their shit, and they leave you out of it. Tina and Steve go along with it all too, sure, Steve especially, but you’re closer with both of them. You take care of each other the way friends are supposed to, none of this caretaker bullshit that you can’t help but take on more of with your family and your kids. Steve, and especially Tina, are there for you in a way your dad hasn’t been since you were little. 

This lack of responsibility, of course, is what leads you to head to your room after microwaving a bowl of pasta, and call Steve about the party he wants to throw at his place when his parents are out of town. 

“Hey,” he picks up. His voice is deep and a little groggy, like maybe he was just falling asleep.

“Sorry, sorry, did I wake you up?”

“Nah, no, you’re good,” he says, sitting himself up. If it were Tommy or Carol, he’d tell them to fuck off and let him sleep. But he’s never able to put down the phone when you’re calling. He doesn’t really know why, he’s never wanted to. 

“Ok. Perfect. I was thinking for drinks we could send Carol in that old lady costume to Bunbury for beers?” Steve snorts on the other end of the line, and you know he’s laughing at the drinking problem he thinks you have. “Oh, shut up,” you scoff. If there’s one thing that you know the looks of, it’s a drinking problem, but Steve’s never been the most tactful. 

“I’d do it, but you know she hates doing it and she was totally pissing me off today,” you excuse yourself from the task, knowing that if you go, you’ll be buying the drinks. They all say they can pay for things for you—read, they all know you and your dad are broke, but they don’t exactly think twice when you end up buying for them, which happens more than you’d care to admit. And you hate to ask them to pay you back. Sophomore year goal: stop being a people pleaser and call out your rich-ass friends who insist on you joining their rich-ass activities. Although, you suppose, there are bigger problems in the world than having friends who are willing to pay to be sure you can do shit with them. The more you try to rationalize it in your head, the more you really start to really hate yourself, so you keep talking. 

“And you know she never listens to me, and then Tommy will be mad, so you’re gonna have to ask her. And probably Tommy, first, so he’ll agree for her, and—”

“You do realize you sound insane, right?” the phone crackles. You hold the phone away from your ear, taking a deep breath before you start snapping at him.

“I’m just trying to make sure we have drinks on Tuesday.” 

“It’ll be fine, don’t worry about it.” You are worried about it, and now a little irritated at him, but you let it go.

“Alright. Goodnight, then,” you say. “Wait! No. Wait. Nancy was talking to Barb about you on the phone.” This might violate some sort of girl code, but if that’s all you’re telling him, and he’s been one of your best friends since the first grade, you hope Nancy can forgive you. It’s irresistibly more fun to listen to Steve beg for more information, and make fun of him later with Tina—and maybe Nancy. 

“That’s all I can say. I’ll have to consult my higher-ups for more information.”

“Nancy Wheeler is your higher-ups, now?”

“Don’t be jealous, Harrington, it’s not my fault she’s cooler than you.” You can hear him roll his eyes over the phone. 

“Goodnight, Steve.” 

“'Night, Y/N.”

You put the phone down, and fall asleep to the frogs and crickets surrounding the trailer park, almost missing the methodic rotation of the Wheelers’ sprinklers. 

A few streets over, the Harringtons’ are going, and Steve Harrington is thinking about Nancy Wheeler, and trying to not think about the fact that you keep floating through his mind instead of her.

When you wake up, your dad is still passed out on the couch. Birds are still chirping outside, and you can hear yelling from the next nearest trailer. You force yourself out of bed, crossing the living room and nudging his shoulder until he wakes up with a start, and his arms reach around, knocking a book off the side table and narrowly missing the lamp. “In the bathroom,” you answer, before he can ask where his meds have gone.

“What time is it?” he mutters groggily. 

“Past eight. You’re going to be late again,” you say as you head to the kitchen. 

“Why aren’t you at school yet?” 

“I don’t have class first period today,” you say, a little frustrated that you have this conversation every Monday, but not letting it show. You pour coffee and butter toast for him before pouring yourself some cereal and slicing a banana. He grunts in response. 

“I have to go, though. So do you,” you drop his food and pill bottles on the coffee table in front of him. He murmurs a “thanks” before turning to the coffee like it’s God. 

“I’ll be home late tomorrow. Don’t wait up.” On the off chance that he’s not out cold by seven, you know he’d assume the worst. Not a kidnapping, or anything crazy. That shit doesn’t happen in Hawkins. But even though you’ve been cancer-free since ‘73, he’s always assuming you’ve spouted a new tumor and died on the side of the road, no matter how many times you, doctors, or the rest of the sane, normal world tells him otherwise. 

“Okay,” he grunts. “Be careful. Make smart choices,” he adds, as if you haven’t been practically raising yourself since you were old enough to cook and ride a bike to school. 

“Yeah, whatever.” You don’t mean to sound like an unbothered teenager, but it’s so difficult to make conversation with your father that you resort to being a shell of yourself until you make it to school and your friends. Hell, Erica Sinclair makes better conversation than Jim Hopper. 

You finish your cereal in silence, rinsing the bowl in the sink before grabbing your backpack. 

“Have a good day at work, Dad.” And you leave the house, letting the screen swing shut behind you, and leaving the front door open to hopefully air out a bit of the overwhelming cigarette smell that’s embedded permanently in all your furniture. Not that you don’t smoke, but never at home. Your Dad would flip his shit about cancer, as if there isn’t Agent Orange probably still running through your blood already. 

You drive to school with a Leonard Cohen C.D. going. There are a million things running through your mind, but none at all at the same time. The party. Your Dad. Sarah, weirdly enough. You don’t think about her a whole lot, but of course she comes up when you have a million other things going on. World History test. Mrs. Click. The Byzantine Empire. Your dad. Drinking. Tina’s Halloween party, which was a week ago, where you had the time of your life dancing with your best friend after begging your father for weeks to ignore it on patrol. Nancy Wheeler. Shit, that study date. You’d almost forgotten. And— fuck, of course you’d forgotten to bring your lunch. You check your watch—you think you have enough time to grab something from the store on the way. 

You speed into the parking lot, going a million miles per hour, but hey, if there’s one thing you’ve got going for you in this town, it’s that no one who works for your dad is going to arrest or ticket you after he cut his own salary to make up for theirs. 

You fly through the store, grabbing an apple, a bag of lettuce and some shit for a basic salad you’ll shake up at lunch. It’s not much, but the deli isn’t open yet, and you aren’t going to buy an entire loaf of bread for one PB&J. As you’re checking out, don’t notice Jonathan Byers until his total comes up short. 

“Oh, here,” you say without thinking, giving him the last dollar he needs. “You also have a late start this morning?”

“Thanks. Uh…” he hesitates. He’s not used to you speaking to him unless the boys are involved, although you would consider the two of you to be friends. “No, um…” 

You don’t really take note of his pause, tossing your lettuce on the conveyor belt. 

“You didn’t see Will last night, did you?” You freeze, fear shooting through your body. 

“Um, yeah, I drove him to Mirkwood. He didn’t make it home? He told me you were waiting for him.” You look over at Jonathan, but avoid his eyes. What if something terrible has happened to Will, and it’s because you let him bike home alone?

“I had a last minute shift,” he mumbles. “Did you… did you see him go home?” 

“Yeah, he took off in the right direction. Jonathan, what happened? Is he missing?”

“Um… we don’t know yet. I— forget I said anything, sorry,” he starts trudging away. 

“Wait, Jonathan, is he okay?” you call after him, panicked. “Byers!” But he’s gone, out the door. And, you realize too late, you’re a dollar short for your fucking lunch. 

You’ve haven’t been thinking straight since you ran into Jonathan, and you’re pretty sure you failed the Byzantine test, although Nancy is trying to convince you otherwise as you sit in your corner of the library, sharing the measly salad you’ve scraped together and the ten-bajillion course meal that Karen packed her. On a normal day, you’d have time to think about how jealous that makes you, but your mind hasn’t left the frenzied state it was in even before learning that Will might be missing. 

“Your essay looks great, Y/N. I checked it for grammar and spelling, so you’re all good there. I think you just need to work on a thesis that makes a little more sense, and then you’re done.” You groan. You love Nancy and her feedback, but you had really been hoping she would say “Perfect!” or “No notes!” or “Great job, Y/N, you can go take a ten year nap, now!”

“Okay,” you pull the paper back across the table. “Yours is great, too, just switch those two paragraphs and then edit them to make them flow, if that makes sense,” you brush bread crumbs off her essay and slide it over to her.

She nods. “That’s perfect, that’s exactly what I was thinking.” A peaceful silence falls upon the pair of you as you eat your lunch, and for a second you feel the November sun filtering through the windows of the Hawkins High Library, and ignore your creeping anxiety that something is very, very, wrong.

“So. How are things?” you ask, smiling behind your hand at Nancy. 

She feigns innocence. “Hm? I don’t know what you mean.” She closes her mouth around her sandwich. 

“Ugh. Fine. We… made out this morning. He left a note in my locker.”

“Classic.”

“I don’t know… he’s really sweet, and, you know, he’s fun— funny. And fun.”

“All true.” 

“I guess I’m a little worried… I mean, he kind of has a reputation. I don’t want to end up, like, totally humiliated.”

“I don’t think he’ll do that, Nance. Honestly. I think he doesn’t realize he’s doing anything half the time—he’s not that… aware… of other people. But he seems like he really likes you, and wants to get to know you.”

She smiles, looking down at her food. “Yeah, yeah he does.” 

Suddenly there’s a commotion at the doors. A loud “shush” comes from the circulation desk. 

“I’m sorry to bother you, ma’am—” Your head flies around. You know that voice. “I was told that Ms. Hopper might be in here? I just need to speak with her for a few minutes.” 

“She usually sits over there,” the librarian gestures to where you’re already standing, deciding whether to collect your stuff. Nancy’s stood beside you, biting her lip. 

”Callahan?” you pester as you follow him through the hallway. “What’s going on, is everything okay? Is my Dad okay?”

“Yeah, you’re Dad’s fine. He’s right in there.” 

What the hell is going on? You push the glass door to the office open, slinging your bag off your shoulder and on to the ground as you give your father a confused look. One that turns to concern when you finally put two and two together. 

“Will.” Your dad sees your expression. He knows how much you care about these kids, and he’s quick to try to reassure you.

“Just… just take a seat, okay? I just have a couple questions about the last time you saw him, I didn’t want to wait until tonight—”

“I drove him almost the whole way to his house last night.” You interrupt. “I dropped him off just past the Hendersons’ house, he told me Jonathan would be there,” your voice speeds up, evident anxiety growing, “but I guess he picked up an extra shift, and—” he cuts you off. 

“Hey, hey, hey.” He pulls you into a hug, and you do start crying then. This is too much, this is your fucking fault, and if Will’s found dead in a ditch it’s going to be all your fault. “He’s going to be okay, okay? I already told Joyce, 99 out of a hundred times, a kid goes missing, kid is with a parent or relative. Lonnie probably—” 

“His father’s psychotic!” You push yourself free from his hold on you “I saw him make them cry like a thousand times, Dad!  I wouldn’t be surprised if he fucking hit them! If Will’s with him, he’s not safe!” Your voice is catching in your throat. 

“And we’re going to go find him, okay? He’ll be okay, I just need— I just need you to stay calm, go home, and just— just stay there.” 

“I can help look for him, I can—” 

“Y/N. Go. Home.” He gives you a pointed stare, and you feel so small standing next to him, even though you got a bit of his height. “Look, we’re sending out search parties. We have people going to Lonnie. He’s going to be okay.” When you don’t respond, he repeats himself firmly. “He’s going to be okay.” 

You take a deep breath and nod. “I’ll see you at home, kid.” 

You push past Officer Callahan, who totally just watched your embarrassing breakdown, and back into the hallway. You assume your father meant for you to go home after your classes, but even if he didn’t, you aren’t skipping chem. There’s another fucking test tommorow, and you’re not missing this free study session. 

Nancy takes note of your distraught look as you enter the classroom and sit down on the stool by hers, even though you had tried to rinse your eyes with cold water on the way over. 

“What was that all about?” She asks. 

“Nothing,” you make something up. “My dad realized I forgot my lunch at home, but it was a little late…” 

“And he sent an armed guard to escort you to pick it up?” She laughs. For a second, you think she’s onto you, but you realize she’s joking as she turns away to focus on the board, where your teacher is balancing an equation. You fucking hate chemistry.

AHHHHHHHHHHH thank you for reading all this!!!! this is insane!!! i love her so much! writing this slow burn is going to KILL MEEE. pls like, reblog, interact to encourage more of my writing and let me know what you think!

xoxo, thaliagracesgf (real)

i'm tagging people who interacted with my idea post and who i thought might like to see this fic, but please please let me know if you'd like to be removed from this list, or if you'd like to be added!

taglist: @thisisourlovestory @ladygrey03

[ladykailitha]

Oh For a Muse of Fire! Part 14

Steve to the rescue again. Eddie is having a horrible week.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6  Part 7  Part 8  Part 9 Part 10  Part 11 Part 12  Part 13  

*

When Steve came home that night, Robin was waiting for him on their couch.

“Hey, Robs,” he greeted warmly. “How was work?”

“Crystal is working out great, he’s got flare,” she said with a grin. “Like you, but different. He had us in stitches during clean up.”

Steve smiled. “I’ll miss you guys.”

Robin’s grin slid into something more dear. “Me too. But I get why you want to get the hell out of Dodge.”

Steve went to the fridge to get them a couple of sodas. When you can get your booze for free, you tend to have other kinds drinks around the house instead.

He handed her one and flopped down next her. “I talked to Mrs Byers and I’m pretty sure I���m going to ace the class. So guess who is graduating, baby?”

Robin squealed. “Yes! I guess Eddie was your lucky charm.”

Steve blushed.

“I didn’t see your painting when I came home,” she said slyly. “Is there a reason you didn’t bring it home?”

Steve’s eyes went wide. “Shit! I left in the car!” He scrambled out the door and was back in under a minute panting.

“Thank fuck it wasn’t too hot today,” he said between breathes. “Otherwise I would have started bawling.”

Robin held out grabby hands. “I want to see!”

Steve turned it around and handed the canvas to her.

“Holy shit, Steve!” she whispered. “This is really good. Like art gallery good.”

He blushed. “It’s just an assignment. It isn’t a big deal.”

“Like hell it isn’t,” she gushed. “You should submit this to the art show for graduating seniors.”

Steve opened his mouth for some excuse, but he didn’t have any. Not really. “Yeah. I’ll let Mrs Byers know.”

Robin handed the painting back and he set gently to the side.

“So what did you and Eddie do...?” she asked with a wink and then her face twisted. “If you had sex I don’t want to know that. Ew.”

Steve laughed. “How did you know I was with Eddie?”

She rolled her eyes. “Because there is no one else that you would play hooky for other than me and I since I worked, the only logical conclusion was Eddie.”

Steve’s face was nearly split in two by the grin that comment induced. “Fair enough. He had a nasty ex show up after class today and it really shook him up.”

Robin pushed his shoulder. “Fuck, dingus. You don’t know how to play fair, do you? I can’t make fun of something like that. Bastard.”

He huffed out a small laugh. “And then he wanted me to listen to some of the songs he’d been writing.”

She giggled and clapped her hands. “Anymore of them about you?”

Steve shook his head. “At least none of the ones he played for me sounded like they were about me. Not like the last one.”

Robin sighed. “Maybe they’re love songs and he’s not ready for you to hear him declare his undying love for you yet.”

He blushed. “He just so amazing, Robs. He deserves every good thing in this world and he just can’t seem to get there. And it’s pissing me off.”

“I know, sweetie,” she said. “I know.”

*

Steve and Robin walked out of their apartment the next day to see a bunch of guys surrounding Eddie.

“Call 911,” he hissed. “I’ll try to keep them busy until the cops arrive.”

Robin’s eyes were wide, but she nodded bravely.

Steve strolled toward the group with a goofy smile on his face. “Hey there, boys. I don’t think I’ve seen you guys around here before.”

The ring leader was a tall, broad-shouldered, good looking man with blond hair. The kind of person Steve would have hung out with in high school. But this was long past that.

They all turned to him and a chill went down Steve’s spine. Some of them had baseball bats and one of the had a tire iron.

And Eddie was in the middle looking terrified.

“Just keep walking,” the ringleader sneered. “We’ve got some business with the Freak here.”

The name sent a second, more dangerous chill down Steve’s spine. The Freak was what they called Eddie in high school. Because he was always out, loud, and proud and made sure it was everyone’s problem.

And then it hit him. He knew who the ringleader was. Fuck.

“Jason Carver, right?” Steve asked, goofy smile still plastered to his face.

Jason was a year behind Steve in high school at a rival school. Dude was so good he had made basketball team captain his junior year.

The ringleader turned further from Eddie to take a better look at Steve.

“Holy fuck!” Jason cursed. “Steve Harrington!”

Steve’s smile turned into a feral grin. “Oh good, you do remember me. And you’ll know that I’m famous for stopping what you’re about to do.”

“Steve!” Robin cried. “Catch!”

Steve’s hand came up and when it came back down everyone was staring at the bat now in his grasp. The top of it had been decorated with nails.

“I take this to Pride every year,” Steve said casually, like he was talking about the weather. “It’s my anti-homophobe bat. It’s a great deterrent for assholes like you.”

He twirled it around, warming up his wrist. “So are you going to walk away or are you boys going to be introduced to Hela?”

Jason looked at his friends and then back at Steve. “There are five of us and only one of you, you really think you can take all of us?”

Steve smiled warmly. “Of course not, I just have to keep you busy until the cops show up.”

Jason’s friends started to mutter to themselves.

Jason scoffed. “You didn’t have time to call the cops.”

Steve batted his eyelashes innocently at Jason. “I’ve never said I did. Robin called them while we were talking.”

They started to look at each other worryingly.

“And if I know Eddie,” Steve continued, “he’s hit the emergency button on his cell phone so that the cops have a recording you threatening to jump me with your buddies.”

Jason sneered. “I think you’re bluffing.” His friends didn’t look convinced.

“Hey, man,” one of the said, putting a hand on Jason’s arm, “if they did call the cops we need to get out of here.”

“Pussy,” Jason sneered, pulling away from him and grabbing the tire iron from him. “I’ll handle this myself.”

Steve cocked his head to the side. “I’m going so wreck that pretty face of yours Carver.”

Jason snarled like a cornered animal, full of rage and fear. He leapt forward swinging the iron like a club, all brute force and no finesse.

Steve loosened the muscles in his neck as Jason swung wildly passed where Steve had been previously, having stepped deftly to the side.

“That’s not the way you swing, you moron,” he heckled. “Maybe you should have taken some baseball with your basketball like I did.” Steve swung and tapped the back of Jason’s jacket. Not hard enough to actually hurt him, but enough that Jason stumbled as he was off balance because of his swing.

Jason fought to stay on his feet, but managed to whirl around to face Steve.

“You want to try again?” Steve asked, brightly.

Jason charged at him again and again Steve side stepped him, tapping him on the back as he passed.

Then there was the bee-whoop of a cop car pulling up. The four other guys pushed at each other in panic as they tried to run. But they ran straight into the arms of the waiting officers.

“Just put down the weapons, boys,” a big burly man said into his megaphone.

Steve laughed. “I’d love to, Chief Hopper. But I’mma gonna wait until he puts his down first.”

Hopper sighed so loud Steve could hear it without it being amplified by the megaphone.

“Harrington, I should have known,” Hopper croaked into the megaphone. “You! The other one.” Jason turned to him in shock at being called ‘the other one’. “I’d best be putting that tire iron down, before Steve decides you’re not worth the effort and flattens your face right quick.”

Jason looked back at Steve and then to Hopper. He slowly put the iron down. Steve did the same to his bat and kicked it behind him, where Robin ran to pick it up.

Jason held up his hands and slowly stood up. One of the deputies came running up and handcuffed him.

“You’re going to pay for this, Munson!” Jason snarled.

Eddie waved from where he was at Robin’s side, having dashed over there while the idiots were watching Jason and Steve fight.

They had to call Diamond and let him know they would be late. Eddie tried to call Joyce, but Hopper put a hand over his phone and gently lowered it.

“I’ve already let her know, son,” Hopper told him. “She says she’ll cancel classes for the rest of the week, if you need.”

Eddie shook his head. “Jus–just for today.”

Hopper nodded. “You take care, all y’all.”

Once their statements had been taken and they were allowed to leave, Steve put his hand on Eddie’s shoulder. “If you need me to call in again, I will.”

Eddie shook his head. “You still need to pay rent, Stevie. I’ll hang out with Uncle Wayne today.”

Steve grinned. “Good plan, nothing beats a tire iron like a mechanic’s wrench.”

Eddie grinned back. “I like the way you think, sweetheart.”

Steve pushed his shoulder. “Go on. Some of us have to work for our living.”

Eddie laughed and walked to his van, Steve shaking his head as he watched him go.

Part 15  Part 16  Part 17 Epilogue

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[once-upon-an-imagine]

idk if u take anon requests, but if you do, would u be willing to do an argyle x byers!reader with either the prompt “Size difference hug; they engulf you.”, or "Is that my shirt?" "You mean our shirt?"

thank u!!

YEEEES! 🥰🥰🥰 OMG I love this so much!

Warnings: getting high with Argyle Disclaimer: I don’t own Stranger Thing😊 gifs aren’t mine 😁

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Shirts & Hugs

Ever since you were little, you had always been a good listener. It probably started when you heard your parents arguing after you and your brothers went to bed. Which is why Jonathan always made you listen to some music before you went to sleep. And you usually did. But some nights, you felt a small voice in your head that told you not to. That you needed to be awake and listen to something that was going to happen. Like tonight. Which is why you heard every single thing going on outside your room. You heard the phone ringing in the middle of the night. You heard Jonathan going to your mother and asking if Argyle could spend the night. You heard his very loud van approaching your house and the very loud boy entering your house. You heard Jonathan telling him that he could stay in the basement and then you heard the door next to your room closing. Which meant Jonathan was back. And Argyle was downstairs. You slowly got out of bed and quietly stepped out of your room and into the basement. 

“Dude, I said I’m fine-” Argyle stopped when he saw it was you instead of Jonathan coming down the stairs. You saw him sitting on the pullout sofa Jonathan had set up for him, smoking a joint. “Oh, hey, sunshine” he smiled a little. “It’s like three in the morning, what are you doing up?”

“Well, I heard Jonathan ask my mom if you could spend the night and I knew that meant you had a bad day” you said, walking closer to him. 

“Is that my shirt?” 

"You mean our shirt?" you asked, looking down at your shirt before sitting down next to him and grabbing the joint from his hand as he let out a small laugh. 

“Shit, how do you always do that?” he asked, smiling at you. 

“Do what?” you asked, confused, letting out the smoke. 

“I just definitely had one of the worst days I’ve had in my life and I was in the shittiest mood and you just come in here and make me smile?” 

“Well, that’s my job, love” you smiled, returning the joint to him and kissing his cheek. “You wanna talk about it?” you asked, placing a strand of hair behind his ear. 

“It was just… a horrible day” he sighed, throwing himself on the bed.  “I was late for work so my stupid boss put me in front at the register” he started, taking another hit. “And there were so many stupid guys from school ordering this insane ingredients on their pizzas-”

“Like pineapple?”

“Pineapple on pizza is heavenly, and you know it sunshine” he glared a little at you. “Anyways they made a huge mess and I had to clean it up. Then I got home and my stupid Math test came out of my stupid bag and my mom saw that I had an F so she started yelling at me and then my dad started yelling at me and I just…” he sighed. “I didn’t want to be there anymore” he said, grabbing your hand and he started playing with it. “He said I was stupid…”

“You’re not stupid” you told him. 

“Maybe I am” he said, sitting up again, and getting upset once more. 

“No, you’re not. Look at me” you said, cupping his cheek with your and making you look at him. “Argyle, you’re not stupid” you repeated.

“You’re just saying that because you like me” he frowned. 

“That’s not true. You’re one of the smartest people I know” you insisted. “We both know that you sometimes just need to focus a little more. And you’re smart in a lot of different creative and original ways” you insisted. 

“You really think so?”

“Of course, I do” you said, giving him a peck on the lips. 

“Could you… maybe help me study so I don’t flunk out this year and I can at least move out of my horrible house?” he asked, making you smile sweetly back at him. 

“I’d love to” you said, kissing his cheek. 

“Does your brother know you’re here?” 

“Which one?” you smirked, making him glare a little at you. “No, Jonathan doesn’t know I’m here” you assured him as he finished the last of his joint. “You know he’s gonna find out somehow, right?”

“I know” he said, letting out the smoke. “I just… kinda wanna figure out how to tell him without him killing me” he told you. 

“Jonathan wouldn’t kill you” you rolled your eyes. “He can’t even fight” you said.

“You said he fought that kid from back home. Steve?”

“Yeah, that’s only because Steve is worse than Jonathan” you told him. “Which is not easy to do” you smiled. “I think Will knows” you said after a while. 

“Really? Did he say anything to you?”

“No. He just mentioned that… I’ve seem… happier lately” you informed him. 

“Oh, you’ve been happier lately, Byers?” 

“A bit” you shrugged. 

“Any particular reason why?” he asked, getting closer to you. 

“Well, I just happen to have the best boyfriend ever” you smiled, making him smile as well before he pulled you closer and kissed you. When you pulled away, you wrapped your arms around him, as much as you could. 

“What are you doing?” he chuckled. 

“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m hugging you” you said as if it was obvious. 

“Sunshine, you look like a tiny koala, wrapping his tiny paws around a tree” he laughed. 

“No, I don’t!” you argued. “You always hug me when I don’t feel good, so I want to do the same for you!” you pouted. 

“As adorable as that is” he said, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you to engulf you in his huge hugs. “I like it way better like this” he said, kissing you. 

“It’s not fair! I’m supposed to be making you feel better” you frowned. 

“Sweetheart, you did that the minute you stepped in here” he assured you, kissing your nose. “I love you” he smiled. 

“I love you too” you smiled, giving in and resting your head on his chest. 

The End

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

A/N: I hope you liked it :D

[your-stranger-halfblood-things]

Steve always wanted to be a singer- it was his dream since he was a child, but his parents were always against it. In middle school, Steve and Jonathan would meet up in the would and walk back to Steve's house to listen to the playlists Jonathan made. They always talked about what it would be like to actually sing for people.

One day, Steve and Jonathan were listening to music and they heard the doorbell ring. It was Eddie "the freak" Munson from Hawkins High. He was there to sell chocolate bars.

The three of them just stared at each other before Eddie bit into a bar and asked what they were up to. Jonathan and Steve had heard rumors of Eddie starting a band, even though the older boy was only in freshman year.

"We're listening to music," Steve said.

"The Cure, The Smiths, David Bowie, The Clash..." Jonathan added. "Are you actually in a band?"

Eddie grinned at them. "Are you guys fans of my music?" They shook their heads. "Oh. Well, you will be. I need to play for you one day. I swear."

Steve's eyes widened. "You'll play for us?"

Eddie nodded. "Yeah, of course. I hope you like metal."

Steve furrowed his brows. "Metal? Like the demon stuff?"

Jonathan nudged him. "Metal is not demon stuff! I mean, it could be, but so can any other type of music."

Eddie laughed. "I know a few Satanic metal bands, but I'm more of the fun type of metal- like Motley Crue, and Dio, and Ozzy Osbourne. You know, fun," he finished with a shrug.

The next day, he came over to Steve's house with his guitar. "I'm gonna play a song that I'm still writing." And he started to strum, and the two younger boys fell in love with his music. When he was does, he brushed away their praise, "It doesn't even sound good yet. I still need a drummer, a pianist, and another guitarist."

"But that was amazing!" Jonathan said with wide eyes. "You should record yourself and sell it."

Steve nodded. "Yeah! And you need to play for us more often!"

And ever since then, Eddie has been coming over to play for his two biggest fans. Once Eddie gathered his band together, the other two already joined high school.

Steve was with the popular people, but he would meet Eddie in the empty music room to listen to him play. And then Jonathan offered to be the band's photographer, to which Eddie was happy. Steve was jealous- he wanted Eddie. He didn't know why he wanted Eddie, but it wasn't fair that Jonathan got to spend more time with him then he did.

So then Steve started picking on Jonathan and calling him names. They'd get into fights, and Eddie tried to stop them, but he never knew the cause of them.

One day, Steve and Eddie were alone in the music room and that's when a thought entered Steve's mind. A bad thought. He couldn't push the thought away.

"Eddie," Steve started slowly.

Eddie hummed in acknowledgement.

"Is it normal to want to kiss your friends? Especially the ones who probably don't like you back?" he asked with a red face.

Eddie looked at him. "Steve, you're not friends with any girls..."

"I know," Steve whispered.

"Who...who is it?" Eddie asked casually, though his heart beat fast.

Steve leaned in close to Eddie. "It's you."

Eddie swallowed. "Steve, what about Jonathan?"

Steve froze. "What about him?"

Eddie sighed. "He likes you, Steve. A lot. And he's never going to stop liking you, no matter how much you bully him. You were his first friend, you mean to much to him."

Steve felt like shit. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean-"

"Talk things over with Jonathan and then come back to me."

So, Steve confronted Jonathan at his doorsteps a few days later. "Jonathan!" Steve yelled as he ran up the Byers' walkway. "I need to talk to you."

Jonathan turned to him. "What? What do you want?"

"Do you want to listen to music?"

So they lay together, just like they used to, on Steve's giant bed. They were listening to The Clash. The music eased the tension.

Steve and Jonathan lay, facing each other, and Steve reached out for Jonathan's hand, just like he used to do as a kid all the time. Jonathan let him take it.

"What do you want, Stevie?" The nickname came out before he could stop himself.

"Stevie? I like it when you call me that," Steve said softly. He looked at Jonathan. He always thought the other boy was pretty, really really pretty. Not handsome, not feminine, but pretty. Pretty is an understatement- he is gorgeous, Steve thinks as he caresses Jonathan's hand.

"I'm sorry, Jonathan. Please listen to me. I talked to Eddie earlier and he told me that you like me. And the thing is, I like him. But I think I also like you. And I always have liked you, ever since we first met that day in the woods. You always made me smile and made me the happiest person alive. But then Eddie started doing that too. And then he gave you that job and I was so jealous-"

"Steve," Jonathan says calmly. "Have you ever heard of polyamory?" And Jonathan explained it to him. Things made so much more sense for Steve.

"That's me!" Steve said. "We need to talk to Eddie."

And they did. They did talk to Eddie, and that's how Steve ended up dating his two amazing boyfriends during highschool and after highschool and they lived happily ever after :)

[steddieficrecs]

Best of Steddie

9/?

previous / next

All That You Ever Wanted From Me Was Sweet Nothing by t1red_gay

“'I’m in love with you,' Eddie says, so casual, like it isn’t 3PM on a Tuesday in the middle of a Family Video in Bumfuck, Indiana. Like they’re somewhere else, like he’s someone else. Like it’s nothing extraordinary."

Or:

Five times Eddie tells Steve he loves him, and one time Steve lets himself say it back.

Steve Harrington Has Anxiety | The Mortifying Ordeal of Being Known | 5+1

too good to be true by Ayes

When Eddie sees Steve in a gay bar, he decides to seduce him and break his heart as revenge for what an asshole Steve was in high school. Steve, who was only at the bar to support Robin, is taken aback by the attention but finds himself under Eddie’s spell. And Eddie, to his growing unease, discovers that Steve Harrington is actually everything he’s ever wanted.

10 Things I Hate About You AU | Fake Dating | Getting Together

Not Exactly Napa Valley by twiceasfar

The fake relationship AU that literally no one asked for. Featuring Steve and Robin as platonic soulmates, a destination wedding to a winery, and a thrilling quest to piss off Steve’s parents.

Robin lets out an exasperated sigh. “Eddie would be the perfect date for the wedding!”

Steve freezes.

“Whose wedding?” Eddie asks.

Fake/Pretend Relationship | Friends to Lovers

The Man That I Could Be by ohstars

"Steve Harrington isn't straight. It's been a few weeks since he sat on that bathroom floor at Starcourt with Robin, where she shared her biggest secret with him and unintentionally unlocked an entirely new side of Steve. Since he’s had to come to terms with being open to exploring that side of him, but he's finally acknowledged that he's most likely, definitely, without a doubt into guys."

--

After coming to terms that he may be queer, Steve Harrington does a little exploration on his own and meets the one and only Eddie Munson. Just as things are going well and accepted the fact he's falling for Eddie in their own little bubble, Steve's world is shaken by a tragedy he can't quite talk about. And when the dust settles and he's nearly ready to put the pieces back together, his worlds collide when he realizes his Eddie is the same Eddie playing D&D with the kids. The same Eddie who's now wanted for murder thanks to another upside down monster. How will he save the day when he can barely focus watching his ex mingle with his monster fighting team?

AU - Canon Divergence | Post S3 | Fix-It | Secret Relationship

Perfect Place to Start by GrasshopperKatie

Eddie nudges Steve’s good arm gently and nods in Mike’s direction. “Hey, who’s the kid with baby Wheeler?” He has an idea about who it is, but wants confirmation. They missed out on a lot of introductions before the battle and on the mad dash to the hospital afterwards.

Steve lifts his head and looks over at where Eddie is gesturing. “Oh, that’s Will. Will Byers. Maybe you know his older brother, Jonathan?”

“Huh, so that’s the guy Wheeler never shuts up about during our campaigns. I was starting to think he was delusional until Henderson backed him up. They seem…close.”

Fic Series | Protective Eddie Munson and Steve Harrington | Background Byler

[glygriffe]

Love in the Time of Vecna

Fandom: Stranger Things Characters: Steve Harrington (Nancy and Dustin, mentioned) Word count: 430 Note: A snippet into Steve's head, post-season 4, where he just feels. And longs, and maybe pines.

Steve looks at Nancy’s profile, at the taut lines around her mouth, the slight crease in the middle of her forehead that he can see when she briefly glances in his direction, acknowledging his presence. How beautiful she is, fierce against the backdrop of the Upside-down seeping through the earth. He loves her. Still, despite everything that happened between them - Barb, the graffiti disaster of the movie theater marquee - despite everything that happened around them since they broke up - the Mind-Flyer and Billy, Vecna and Eddie… His heart goes a little softer each time he thinks of her.

He knows there is a next-to-nothing chance that they will get back together, even if she and Jonathan can’t salvage their long-distance relationship. Too much had happened. She outgrew their couple relationship a long time ago already. Steve knows that and has accepted that even if a part of him still hopes, still loves.

It’s not as if the circumstances are ideal to think about his love life. It’s even just because of Vecna that they’re so close at this very moment. When the ash started to fall from the sky, Steve had agreed to give Dustin a lift from the school gymnasium to Hopper’s cabin, where they knew the Byers-Hopper tribe had gathered.

Dustin is now limping to get near Will and Mike, but he can't stop himself from getting close to Nancy. Briefly, he feels Jonathan’s gaze weigh on him. Steve doesn’t mind. There is no hard feeling on his side anymore. And Byers must know she mostly thinks of him as the babysitter. Funny he got stuck in this role when he is barely more mature than Erika and Dustin a lot of the time. Maybe that is why the little guy has become one of his best friends.

Even this friendship happened partly because of Nancy, because of his need to make amend to her after he screwed up. She really has been the center of his life, the heart of his life, since they met.

Against the darkening sky of a world doomed to get swallowed up by the Upside-down, he only can think of her, her strength, and her beauty. He is mesmerized by a curly strand of her hair clinging to her cheek, by the light coat of soot already covering her face.

She's a magnet to him, even when the world is dying. And maybe because the end is near, his brain keeps showing him this image of them, a little older, in a Winnebago with rug rats of their own.

[discodeviant]

One Swing, Just One Thing

Jonathan/Argyle | Teen | 3k No Upside Down, Light Angst

My take on the Cali move in the little Disco-verse I have in my head lol, please enjoy <3 <3

Read on AO3

There were a devastating number of things that Jonathan hated about Hawkins, not limited to its inseparable school boards and suffocating, tight-knit groups. The summers were disappointing at best, and still fucking cold at worst; winters bit at his nose and fingertips so harshly that he thought they’d fall right off. Hawkins was the town that molded his father into the crass, neglectful man that he was, and even he was scared off some years ago. On a whim, maybe, but Jonathan always suspected that he’d never loved their family in the first place. Joyce was too forgiving; Will was too young to know better than to think Lonnie’s disappearance was personal. Not that he went very far—only fifty minutes to Indianapolis—but it felt like he was across the ocean in a different world entirely. Jonathan hated that Hawkins had been breaking his mother to pieces ever since.

The time between then and now was a long, dull three years of absolutely nothing with some excitement sprinkled on top like glitter. Lonnie broke the divorce contract and took Will into the city for a week in eighty-two, which rendered the already-quiet kid fully mute for two months. In eighty-three, Jonathan won a fight against Steve Harrington in a back alley somewhere, which he still thought may have been a fever dream. Every punch and bruise left behind led to Nancy Wheeler leaving Steve for Jonathan in eighty-four and loving him until the summer of eighty-five, when college applications rolled around and pried them apart.

Somewhere in between, Joyce married Jim Hopper, whose daughter could move twenty times her weight with her mind, but those were details Jonathan didn’t like to think about.

California was on the horizon by July, and the five of them were driving into Lenora Hills in early August. Hopper said it wasn’t dirty money when it came from the source, but Jonathan was still wary of the whole thing. Hawkins was terrible, but it was home for eighteen years. It was familiar. It was where he taught Will how to ride a bike, and where he took his mother’s new wedding photos during the not-ceremony they held in front of Castle Byers. Just Will’s friends and their parents, Steve and Nancy somehow, and that was all they needed. Hawkins was every waking moment of Jonathan’s life, gone in a flash—it felt that way when he started school again.

Hawkins wasn’t creative with name-calling either. Freak was thrown around for both Byers boys, and another kid in some of Jonathan’s classes. Fuck up when the tapes he had for a middle school play were sabotaged and left for him to take the blame. Fairy caught on after Harrington called him a queer in front of Tommy Hagan (that was before Jonathan kicked his ass), and it hit a little too deep, that one. Lonnie used to say that about Will when he was around. Freak and fag and fairy and good-for-nothing fruit—F-words haunted him.

In California, though, Jonathan was little more than a ghost, and he was happy to keep it that way. He didn’t draw attention to himself or talk to anyone outside of class, and even then he stuck to his desk mates, but he was a good kid. Kind, soft-spoken like his brother, always carrying that damn camera with him so he didn’t miss anything. Californian kids weren’t as cruel as those from small-town Indiana, but they still stared. If they whispered, it was out of range. He could deal with that.

Shop class was what really threw him for a loop.

Back home, he realized that there were two types of guys who took shop: those who were interested in trade and chose to be there, and those who were put into it because they weren’t that great at anything else. Jonathan was in the former group since hands-on work was easier for him to get a handle on, and he never dreamt of going to some fancy university with top-dog academics. That was Nancy’s dream. His was simple and steady like a saw cutting through slabs of pine and the hinges holding them together. His was the freedom of choosing what wood stain to use between burned lines in the surface of a three-panel table. His was photography, in truth, but carpentry was a good fallback.

Jonathan wasn’t sure what to make of his project partner. Which kind of guy Argyle was, he really couldn’t say. On the one hand, he had a fantastic eye for measurements and made perfect cuts nearly every time, and his eyes lit up when their teacher complimented his work. He was fast too, never wasting a moment in between getting instructions and following them. On the other hand, he spoke like he was deep in outer space, and maybe he was. Argyle epitomized the doped-out beach boy with the attention span of a fruit fly in most other classes, from what Jonathan could tell. Maybe that was why he glanced in Argyle’s direction whenever he could, just for a split second of those long, long locks or proof that it was all an act. Not that he would understand why, but Argyle was a distant interest until they were told to work on a porch swing together, and he was suddenly much closer.

“Hey, so, uh… how big are we gonna make this thing?” Jonathan asked as Argyle fiddled with his pencil eraser. They sat at a table in the back, bags and papers splayed out alongside a few wooden beams that they reserved in advance. “Like… one, two people?”

Argyle looked up and nodded in thought. “Two’s cool. Or… I guess we could make it for one really big person. Or three small people.” His words sounded like they came from the long distance his eyes stared off into. Through Jonathan somehow, if that was even possible. It made him a little wary.

“Yeah, sure.”

Jonathan gazed around the room to fill the silence with something else. Other students’ chatter and sawing, hammers swinging already, a buzzsaw that went off for a few seconds. Between the boys, it was agonizing, and they mostly worked through gestures and mumbled project plans.

Throughout the week, they eased into a better conversation flow. They passed along hellos through glances in other classes, then said their heys when they made it to shop. Jonathan found himself lingering on those smiles until the next came along, and then he added that one to his mental collection. A portfolio, of sorts, of the times those smiles were accompanied by a wave or enthusiastic nod. All the while, their swing was making progress, and Argyle proved his skillful hand so much that he did most of the hard parts himself. Jonathan had fun watching.

After that weekend, they decided that Jonathan would be in charge of its more intricate designs, which he was happy to focus on. Drawing out ideas in pencil on the wood, taking Argyle’s sketches into account. And like he watched Argyle, Argyle watched him right back with intense focus. Whether the whites of his eyes were red or not, he was meticulous when filling in the lines with Gunsmoke—an orange stain they used around the edges. Once all was said and done, the swing was sanded and lathered in wax coating, and they were the first pair to finish.

“That’s one bangin’ bench, if I do say so myself.” Argyle stood with both hands on his hips, licking at his teeth as he ogled their final project. “Good work, my man.” The clap on Jonathan’s back startled him a little.

“You too, you too.”

“Hey, do you think you could help me get it out to my car later?”

“You’re taking it?”

“Yeah, man, Teach said I could. I got sisters, they’re gonna love this thing. We used to have one, but it was all grody and, like, just fell apart one day, so. Set it up there, I guess. You can come by if you want.”

“I—I don’t know—I gotta work on my paper.” Jonathan only noticed his palms were sweaty when he rubbed them down his thighs and stained the denim.

“Do it at mine, man. It’s quiet when the girls are doin’ their thing, and we can get free pizza.”

“Free pizza?” Jonathan asked, but Argyle just gave him a look that hooked and reeled like he didn’t give the line any trouble at all. “What the hell, why not.”

“That’s what I’m talkin’ about!” Argyle clapped his hands together and rubbed them so fast that an ember should have sparked and burned the place down, but maybe that was Jonathan’s nerves thinking too quickly. Before he knew it, Argyle was packing his things and walking out backwards with a pair of finger-guns pointed at him. “You and me, Byers!”

The bell rang soon after.

“A pizza van?”

“Yeah, man! Life’s way easier when I can just throw shit in the back. Plus, my manager says it’s good advertising, and I’m inclined to agree. Come on, let’s get her in there.”

They’d waited for the school crowd to pile out before carrying the swing to the end of the parking lot, where Jonathan’s earlier question was answered. With the van’s boot open, they hoisted the swing up and into the back with little struggle—which was mostly Argyle’s doing—and walked to sit up front together after closing it.

“What toppings do you like?” Argyle asked as he backed out.

“Uh… anything I guess. I’m not picky.”

“Pineapple?”

Jonathan grimaced. “Never had it.”

“Try before you deny, my friend.”

And, well, Jonathan couldn’t argue with that for a number of reasons.

Pizza first, home second—that was their order of operations, though they decided to take the food to-go instead of sitting in a loud parlor teeming with children. Jonathan paid for a sub in case he hated the pizza, which Argyle laughed at him for. Not maliciously; Jonathan was pretty sure he didn’t have a cruel bone in his body. He was too carefree for that, too laid back, too genuine. So far, anyway, and Jonathan knew he needed a friend like him even if it was too soon to say they were friends just yet. Unless it wasn’t. He didn’t know.

Friends had come and gone, and stayed gone more often than not. Will and his mom were the only two constants for so long. His middle and high school friends were temporary, Nancy was temporary, Hopper and El might have been temporary for all he knew by that point. But that was Hawkins, where he’d been a freak for sitting in the cafeteria corner even when he got there first. That was Hawkins High, where people still talked about his brother like he’d died and come back to life even though he was only gone for a week. Those people weren’t supposed to be friends to begin with, and Jonathan didn’t try to make them friends.

But this was Lenora Hills, sitting in Argyle’s pizza van that may not have been his at all, and he was so California—so unlike Indiana—that Jonathan couldn’t help smiling.

As they pulled up to the house, he asked, “Did you grow up here?”

“Born and raised, man.” Argyle said so with pride that Jonathan could only dream of. “Closer to San Jose, actually, but it’s the same shit everywhere.” He laughed, and they stepped out. “Where’d you get swept up from? Not the city.” Boot open; Argyle pulled the swing out for Jonathan to catch the end.

“No, no,” he said. “Hawkins. It was sorta close to the city, but far-fucking-from it in every other way.”

“Where’s that, Utah?” Argyle held the other end, and they walked up the grass to where a couple of A-frames were set up with a beam joining the vertices.

Jonathan chuckled. “Indiana.”

“Oh, shit, you’re like… from way-fuckin’-out there, huh?”

“Yeah, I guess. Not that exciting. At least I’ve heard of San Jose.”

“Not missing out there either, dude, but, I don’t know, maybe I was just used to it.” They set the swing down. “Green grass or some crap, whatever shit they talk about. Anyway, lemme close the van, then, uh… we’ll go in and eat. Or we can eat out here, whatever.”

Jonathan shrugged and said, “Doesn’t matter to me. I’ll grab your bag for you.” Argyle didn’t protest and brought in the pizza while Jonathan had one bag slung over each shoulder. That said, Argyle’s was more of a sack, but it fit everything he needed.

“I gotta get a new one soon,” he said as they walked into the warmth of a well-lived-in home. Something about it reminded Jonathan of the house in Hawkins. Small but cozy and littered with half-filled coloring pages, toys on the floor, a bottle of glitter tipped over on a shelf. It smelled like honey and spice wrapped into a billowing fire, but that was in the walls and rugs on the floor. That was Argyle.

A TV sat on the coffee table in the living room, which merged with the kitchen so Argyle could turn it on while he got a couple of plates out. “Take a seat, man, my couch is your couch. And, lucky for us, it seems we’ve got the house to ourselves for another couple hours at least, so no noisy children to deal with.”

“Where is everybody?”

“Uh… today’s Friday?” Jonathan nodded. “Dad’s workin’ late, so they’re with abuela for the night. She’s up, uh—near that lake up there.”

“That’s cool.”

“Anyway…” Argyle carried the pizza box to the couch with a plate on top for each of them. Jonathan had already put their drinks on the table. “Bon appétit, my dude,” he said, holding up his slice of Hawaiian, an invitation for a toast. Jonathan met it with his own and sunk his teeth in, expecting the worst, but he was pleasantly surprised. “See?”

They both said in unison, “Try before you deny.”

“Jesus, that’s fucking good.”

“Thank those Hawaiians, man.”

“Ugh—thank you, Hawaiians—mm…”

A short while after letting their food settle, the guys went back outside to set up the swing before it got too dark. Argyle had some chains that he hooked through the arms and base before hanging it with Jonathan’s help. He didn’t do much, but it was enough to earn a high-five anyway, so he took it in stride. When they were done, they sat on it together, both just fitting so their knees touched, but it was comfortable. Jonathan was comfortable.

“You know, I’m not gonna lie to you, man, this thing could use some throw pillows,” Argyle said.

“You got any?”

“Yeaaaah, but I don’t feel like going back inside yet, so. Later.” Jonathan ate from a bag of gummy worms. “You smoke?”

He shrugged. “Sometimes. You go ahead, I don’t mind. My parents are both chimneys.”

So Argyle fished around in his pocket and pulled out a smoke that was a little worse for wear, from what Jonathan could tell, but it had probably been in there all day. “You got this stuff back home, country boy?” Jonathan looked more closely at it and suddenly understood.

“Oh.”

Argyle laughed. “Is that a no?”

“No, no, I mean, we do, just… only had it a couple times. Plus, like, my mom married a cop. Literally the chief.”

“No shit! Oh, dude, you’re missing out big time.”

“I don’t know, it wasn’t that good.”

“Byers, my man… this is the real shit. Good shit. Purple Palm Tree Delight. Well worth the pennies.”

“Purple Palm Tree Delight.”

“Yessiree.” A lighter was next. Argyle flipped it open and lit the joint between his lips, Jonathan watching with a sudden draw to the smoke leaving his mouth. “You’ll like it.”

Jonathan hesitated for a moment before taking it from between Argyle’s fingers, strong and dirty from the swing work but still so tempting to touch. “One drag,” he said. It occurred to him briefly, when he put it in his mouth and took a shallow huff, that he might have been called a fairy for this too if he were back in middle school.

Side-by-side, closer to a guy than either seemed to realize as he held his lips around something that another man’s lips had already touched. Maybe Jonathan was being childish to think that they’d just kissed. Lips to joint to lips again, his one puff turned into two, then three, then an equal share as he and Argyle passed it between each other. Argyle’s lips were red by the time it was down to a nub of embers that he snuffed with dirty fingertips and dropped into the grass.

Maybe it was naive to be glad that he was in California, sitting on a swing in his new friend’s backyard—who, yes, now, Jonathan could be sure was his friend. He knew this never could have happened in Hawkins. Not the peaceful silence as the final few minutes of sunlight disappeared, not the violet-tinted delight rolling through his arms and legs and brain. Certainly not a kiss, though he wasn’t sure that would happen in California either.

Maybe it could someday, he thought. Then he wouldn’t have to pretend that indirect contact through a joint was enough. He wouldn’t have to imagine or make believe. He could just turn his head, look into Argyle’s glowing eyes in the dark, and lean in with herbal confidence to back him up.

And they’d swing.

And they’d touch.

And even now, looking at Argyle’s profile wasn’t enough to satisfy. “Is there something on my face?” he asked, and Jonathan shook his head.

“No, just… your face.” His vision blurred as his eyelids slowly flitted closed, fighting an uphill battle to keep him awake. Everything was fuzzy inside and out, and Argyle chuckled.

“Well, I can’t exactly wipe that off, now, can I?”

In Hawkins, Jonathan wouldn’t have let his arm lean enough to the side to brush against Argyle’s. In Hawkins, his head wouldn’t have been guided to a broad shoulder with another pair of legs kicking the swing into motion again. In Hawkins, he wouldn’t have been completely and totally relaxed at the mercy of someone else, but Argyle’s head falling over his own was enough to blanket the rest of him in warmth. Maybe it was his hair.

Either way, it was Argyle. He was one thing to love about California.

[prettyboybillyhargrove]

A/B/O Harringrove Fic Rec p1

Okay since I’m pushing my a/b/o agenda lately and saw people are interested in it I wanted to recommend some of the fics I liked. / Most (probably all ngl) of this contain Omega and bottom Billy. Read at your own risk. Also, this is absolutely not in any order.

Ps: Okay this is part 1. Part 2 is gonna be multi chaptered ones. Also a couple of more one shots. Cause apparently there's soooooo much i wanna share.

i’m used to feeling that fire by cursedtobechaos on ao3   Words:10553  

Billy’s not used to feeling like prey. Especially not prey for Steve fucking Harrington, the same alpha he beat the absolute crap out of not too long ago.

"You are not fucking me in the showers,"  Steve in fact, fucked him in the showers(kinda). Alpha Steve came to school when he’s in his rut and Billy gives him a hand (or mouth, and more)

Upside Down, You're Turning Me by @ImNeitherornor on ao3 Words:7885  

“Let me get this straight. You want me to go into the middle of the fucking woods in below zero temperatures to find someone who is probably high as a kite and just having the time of his damned life?”  

Sex pollen fic we all need.

None Brighter Than Your Eyes by Doodsxd on ao3   Words:9991  

Sex Ed course came once again, and, for the first time, Billy listened.

He listened, because it started to match and make sense with what Max’s little troup told him over and over again.

Apparently, it was biology which dictated that omega jewelry wasn’t just a futility or decoration, or even a signal that the omega was taken. It wasn’t a trade, sex for jewelry, like Neil had taught him all his life. No: scientists had found back in the sixties that omega jewelry has a soothing effect, especially during heat, as a reminder of love and affection; something tangible and available at all times, even when no one is.

This is so fucking poetic and pretty. You MUST read!

Misunderstanding by prettyboiiharringrove on ao3  Words:1503  

Harringrove Halloween Countdown // October 11 — Billy has always been a grumpy asshole, so the kids typically let most of his behavior slide, for Steve's sake, but as the clues get weirder it's obvious something is up with him, and they have to fix it before Steve finds out.

This is a mpreg story. The sauna scene with a little twist. I cry while reading this I’m not kidding. Also, you can read this whole series if you guys wanna read more mpreg billy.

A Start by ImNeitherNor on ao3   Words:5574  

The quarry was always Steve’s go to when he needed a place to breathe, an area where the smells weren’t in his face and he could think straight. It was strange how one person’s heat could trigger another. Steve, a slightly cowed alpha after Hargrove rolled in, was done with the overpowering scents and the looks that were being thrown around.  

DOM STEVE BILLY IN HEAT WHAT MORE I NEED TO SAY?

Hold Me Tight Or Don't by BTSBlossom on ao3     Words:4808    

Billy has some news for Steve, he just doesn't know how to tell him. At least he knows he's got Ms. Byers on his side. She'll be there for Billy if Steve isn't.

This is more about the pregnancy than a/b/o, Joyce being a good mom to Billy UwU also tw: talking about abortion

sandman by Rebldomakr on ao3   Words:2226  

Steve’s not a fighter. He sucks at it, actually. He’s a little soft, but he isn’t totally weak or awfully tiny. He’s a good Alpha in many of the ways that count! Just because he isn’t running around sleeping with anyone willing, picking fights, and beating people to death doesn’t mean he’s a bad Alpha. And though Billy might do all that, but he isn't a bad Omega.

some short cute porn lol (steve has a breeding kink what a surprise lmao)

Silk by Rebldomakr on ao3   Words:3393  

In Indiana, Omega suppressants are banned. Billy runs out after a while.

tw: neil hargrove

Moaning Lisa Smile by trashcangimmick   Words: 3,735  

Billy maybe kind of hides the fact that he’s an Omega because he’s too queer, and too pretty, and would rather not deal with a bunch of idiot Alphas trying to screw the gay out of him. But Steve’s not an Alpha. Steve is also very pretty.

beta steve/omega billy, wet and messy, SEX BEHIND THE CAMARO FUCK YEAH also in the shower fşldkfkd

+ one Alpha/Alpha

with them indiana boys (on them indiana nights) by ToAStranger   Words: 4,842  

The thing is, when Billy first saw Steve Harrington, he knew.  

He grew up knowing.  It was hard not to, with all of those hormones and instincts running through his fucking veins.  He knew, one day, he’d run across someone that smelled so right, so fucking perfect that he’d want nothing more than to bury his face against their scent gland and breathe in until the smell becomes a taste becomes a sensation becomes--

Well.  The thing is, he’s always known.

"But you're my omega."

Steve falters, shaking his head, teeth catching on his lower lip and despite it all, Billy wants to kiss him again.

"No." Steve says. "Billy, I'm an alpha. Always have been. I'm-- I'm sorry. I thought you knew."

Tagging:(according to my post about a/b/o fic rec you guys seemed interested) @shprka @disdaidal @wixterirox @madsexcellency @andromedaspark @stedilly @billyhargrovesupsidedownshadow @ariamariastark1 @eddiebillysteve

[writer-in-theory]

do not go gently — steddie.

whumptober no. 3 — hair’s breadth from death

summary: steve is apparently supposed to die in 24 hours, but there’s so much left to say. —or, what if steve was targeted by vecna instead? prompt: “say goodbye” pairing: steve harrington/eddie munson, implied past steve/billy category: hurt/comfort content warnings: language, discussions of death word count: 2k

This wasn’t the first time Steve Harrington thought he would die, but it was the first time he felt totally and utterly alone with this realization. 

The first time he’d been sixteen, staring at the front of the Byers's house feeling the surety in his bones that he would run back inside with nothing but a bat with nails to protect him. He’d run in knowing there was some creature inside that didn’t belong there, one that for some reason wanted to kill them. It had been easier then, knowing that if he died it would be because he was protecting the girl he thought he loved and the guy he desperately wanted to make amends with. 

The next time, it had been even easier to risk his life. Steve hadn’t even hesitated for a second when the demodogs rushed him and Dustin—all he knew was that if he could wrap himself around that boy to give him a miracle’s chance at survival, then he’d take it. After all, Dustin Henderson was easily one of the most brilliant people he’d ever met, and the kid was still in middle school. There was so much for him to look forward to, so much that he could do with all that brilliance, what else could Steve do except place his own life between the kid and danger? Dustin had never outright thanked him, but he had slowly pulled Steve into his circle of family so completely that Steve couldn’t imagine a life without the little dork around.

With each year another battle with death Steve fought, and the next came in the form of Russians hiding out under his place of work. He still shuddered at the thought of everything the Russians could have done if they’d had more time, everything that he would’ve let them do because as long as their attention was on him it wasn’t on Robin. Robin, who would’ve been safe had he not pulled her into their schemes, who deserved a chance to travel to Nashville to go after the girl of her dreams after all of this. 

Each time he’d had someone to stand beside, someone to reason out the end of his journey. He’d survived so much, and fought so hard, it was downright insulting to go out like this—being mind-hunted by some guy named Vecna who for some reason wanted to kill traumatized teenagers from Hawkins.

“I can hear you thinking from here, Harrington,” Eddie Munson of all people called out, startling Steve from where he sat on one of the pool chairs in his backyard. He’d given up smoking years ago after Dustin pestered him for long enough, but now he let a cigarette dangle between his fingers, allowing himself this one cheat on his final day. Henderson would just have to understand.

“Thought I’d give it a try,” Steve huffed out, settling back into his chair as Eddie climbed into the one beside him, sitting sideways with crisscrossed legs so he could face Steve completely. 

“And how’s it treating our precious King Steve?”

“You know what, Munson, thinking kind of blows,” Steve laughed, the sound growing in confidence when Eddie laughed along with him. “But you know, I better do it while I still can.”

The laughter died off with a pained whisper, drifting off into the night like the steam that rose from the unused pool. Steve had been in it once or twice since Barb but found he was far less afraid of being pulled under the surface in the community pool. He thought he might give it a go tonight when there was nothing left to be afraid of, but instead, he just sat and watched the steam coil from it wondering if his final breath would look like that too. 

“Those kids in there aren’t gonna let anything happen to you,” Eddie told him, more seriousness in his voice than Steve had heard since a broken bottle had been pressed against his neck. “I don’t know how, but they’ll figure something out.”

“Promise me something, Munson,” Steve spoke suddenly, whipping his head to the side to look at the other man. Eddie, for what it was worth, seemed startled by the sudden eye contact or maybe the intensity in Steve’s look. His dark eyes widened, his eyebrows lifting into his messy bangs. “Don’t let them risk their shit for me, alright? Just...out of everyone, it could’ve been, maybe this isn’t so bad.”

“Now where’s that King Steve who used to walk around Hawkins High like he fuckin’ owned the place?” Eddie asked with a bit more hardness in his expression than Steve was expecting. The familiarity of it caught him off-guard and sent his head reeling back as though the words had physically smacked him. “He was a bitch to deal with but at least he had some fire left.”

Steve scoffed, shaking his head and running one hand through his hair. “Funny, you’re starting to sound a lot like someone else who thought way too highly of me,” he breathed more than spoke, getting one mental glimpse of blue eyes before he shook the thought away, not daring to touch that hurt even at the end. 

“Don’t get me wrong, Harrington, this new babysitter version of you’s a lot more tolerable,” Eddie answered, planting his feet back on the ground and leaning forward closer to him, “but King Steve wouldn’t just lay down and die without a fight.”

“I’m not—” Steve began to argue, all clenched fists and furrowed eyebrows before he took a breath, and forced his muscles to relax. “This isn’t like the other times, okay? I can’t just throw a punch and get out of this.”

“What happened to all the talk before about what a great supernatural power-fighting team you all make?”

Steve shrugged, shifting in his chair to mirror Eddie—arms resting against his thighs so he can lean forward, shoulders tilted slightly inward. The tops of his white Nikes were inches from Eddie’s shoes, one move and they’d bump feet. Steve let the question linger in the air between them, and thankfully Eddie didn’t press any further. He just watched, his clasped hands far too close to Steve’s. Any other time, when his emotions weren’t already going haywire, and the proximity might’ve made him malfunction.

“I don’t want any of the little shits to lose hope,” Steve finally answered, “don’t want the last thing I see of them to be crying. I mean, how could I tell them I have no idea how to get out of this? That it’s gonna be some clock wizard who takes me out and I’m actually pretty fucking terrified of it because I have no idea what to expect. It’s not fair, man, and I can’t stick that on the kids.”

Eddie was silent for only a moment before his head tilted down a little so his eyes could watch as his hands messed with the rings on his fingers. “I was with Chrissy when he...” another pause. “You wanna know so bad, I could tell you.”

Steve knew he shouldn’t. He wanted to ask for every gory detail of what would happen to him but at the same time, his heart screamed against it, slamming itself against his chest cavity to prevent any more fear from filling the already tight space.

“Did it hurt her?”

Eddie looked up to meet Steve’s gaze then, wincing and nodding once. “Yeah, looked like it.”

“Was it quick?”

Eddie paused again, looked like he wanted to say something before he thought better of himself. “Too quick for me to do anything about it.”

It was an odd way to put it. It was how Steve might word it if one of the Party had gotten hurt under his watch. Maybe it was the nighttime cover, or maybe it was the fact that in less than twenty-four hours none of this would matter anymore, but Steve found himself reaching forward and grabbing onto one of Eddie’s hands, startling both of them. 

“You know that’s not on you, right, Munson?”

“Yeah, sure,” Eddie answered quickly, leaning back a little and face scrunching up as if to wave off the thought physically. “Not like I’ve run at every sight of danger so far while people risk their lives. Those kids, Chrissy, even King Steve Harrington himself.”

“You’re not running this time,” Steve told him firmly.

“You asked me to make sure we let you die.”

“That’s not running,” Steve reaffirmed. “Those kids need a babysitter, alright? It’s like they’ve got magnets strapped to their backs ready to attract any trouble they can. And if I can’t be the one with the bat ready to fight that trouble off, I need someone else they like just as much to do the job.”

“I’m no varsity team captain, Harrington, I don’t lead.” Eddie practically spits out the words ‘team captain’ like they left a bad taste in his mouth, making Steve huff out a bit of a laugh even in the serious situation. He wondered what would’ve happened if high school cliques weren’t so rigid and if maybe Steve had gotten the chance to talk to Eddie sooner. Maybe things would be different. Maybe they’d have more than a brief handhold and a half dozen lingering stares at the end of the day. 

“You are a DM.” Steve laughed at the look on Eddie’s face, rolling his eyes and letting his hand run through his hair out of habit again. “C’mon, man, I have to hear Henderson talk about that game every day, I’ve picked up some things. And I’ve picked up that the DM’s sorta like the team captain. You lead the group, direct them where they need to go. You keep them all from killing each other which honestly is impressive enough. Believe me, you’re qualified for the job.”

“Too bad there won’t be a job opening any time soon,” Eddie replied resolutely.

“Eddie,” Steve sighed, head tilting as he fought to understand why the man couldn’t just get it that—

“Say what you want, but I’ve seen two people get all their bones snapped by some freaky mind magic, and I’m not making that three.” Eddie stood up then, holding out one hand as if Steve needed help to stand. Steve still took it though, not letting go right away once they were both standing. “So say goodbye all you want but when I’m right King Steve’ll be making an appearance in our next campaign.”

“Fine,” Steve agreed, shaking his head at the mischief held within Eddie’s eyes. They were standing so close now, so god damn close that Steve could see every tiny detail of Eddie’s face if he looked—and he looked. “but when I’m right and all the goodbyes were necessary, you’re wearing my varsity letterman for a whole week. Try being King Eddie for a change.”

Eddie laughed, and the bright sound made Steve laugh too. It wasn’t that funny, what they’d said, but maybe the emotions of the day had caught up to him enough because soon enough Steve was bent in half, hands braced on his knees as he wheezed through his laughter. Tears streamed from the surprising joy, and maybe some of that joy was mixed in with the fear of what lay ahead, but at least he had this moment. A good moment to replace all the bad that had taken over his memory of this pool, all because of Eddie fucking Munson.

And when the laughter finally died down and he was left standing in front of Eddie on what could potentially be the last night of his life, Steve realized he maybe wasn’t going into this alone after all.