#Joyce Byers drabble

[collectivecloseness]

I know you said you weren’t rly up for smut yesterday, but I’m going to be honest, I’m a sinner, and could only think of smut for Joyce. Would you want to do any of that? <3

You’re lucky because I was actually coming up with smth that included smutty Joyce myself LMFAO 🤭 guess we’re all sinners. Domestic fluff with some smut included

Joyce Byers x reader

Joyce invited you over all the time now, and well, you invited yourself over too. Joyce told you she was always happy for you to drop by! And that had been even before you two had been secretly hooking up.

You and Joyce both agreed not to tell anyone. Even you two had skirted around what you actually were. But you were both happy, so that’s all that mattered to you.

It was harder to sneak around with Joyce’s kids in the house, but she also didn’t want to be out constantly, lest they get suspicious, and you kept struggling to find places outside of her home to secretly hook up. Although you both knew of a good few, from experience.

People would probably assume you were Johnathan’s friend if they saw you around the house, or even out with the family, and while recently, you two had started becoming friendly, everyone who knew you and Joyce knew you two were friends! You just seemed to connect very well from the start, and nothing seemed to get in the way of your blooming friendship.

Even your friends didn’t know that it was a much deeper relationship than that. You’d dropped hints about the person you were ‘seeing’ to your friends, because it was obvious to them you were with someone, although at one point Robin and Steve had convinced themselves it was Steve’s mother you were seeing, and that fire had had to be put out quickly.

But Joyce made you happy. And you really made her feel the same way too.

But with Joyce always letting you over to her place, and knowing how hard she works, you constantly wanted to be a helping hand, right by her side. So today, you’d come to visit Joyce, hoping you two would have a few more minutes until Will and Johnathan were home. No such luck, but Will had already thrown his bag on the ground and gone to his room, and Johnathan looked like he was about to do the same, just in Joyce’s pantry by the time you walked through the door.

She didn’t notice you, too busy trying to find something in the cupboard under the sink. You gave a quick nod to Johnathan, at the other end of the kitchen, who gave one back, headphones in. So when you walked up to Joyce, you ran your hands down her shoulders and past her arms.

“Ooh!” Joyce jumped, looking up with the biggest brown eyes you swear you’ve ever seen in your life, and she smiles so happily at you. “Oh! It’s you. Hi honey!” She already has her arms open before she’s even stood up, coming to give you her world famous hugs, and you wrap your arms around her waist back. Her hair’s loose, so you let yourself bury your face into her shoulder, drinking in her smell. It’s weird, her scent is the one thing that always seems to stay with you.

Joyce pulls back warmly, her hands still on your shoulders. “I didn’t know you were coming! Are you staying for dinner?”

You can see the excitement in her eyes. How happy she is to see you here. Joyce says you make her feel giddy like a school girl, but she always has your heart fluttering too. “Mhm! If you’ll have me.”

“I’ll always have you.” Joyce smiles, before you chuckle through your nose, and the both of you dip your heads with quiet laughs at the shared joke.

You realise you haven’t let go of Joyce’s waist yet, but a quick eye flicker in your peripheral lets you know Johnathan’s lost in his magazine and music. So you manage to give her hip a quick rub, before turning your hand to do the same to her bicep. “And what’re you doing? I thought the store already worked you to death.”

Joyce rolls her eyes upwards at the mention of her work, her smile still on her face, letting you know her exhaustion. At least it was something you could ease out of her later. Maybe even including a nice massage.

“I know, but I didn’t have time to I do the dishes this morning.” Joyce blows her lips.

But you brush her hands to the side, stepping forward. “Well here, let me do that then.”

“No, no no.” Joyce gently holds your hands back, pushing them away before you can start. “I’ve got it, there’s only a couple. Besides, I need to have enough dishes for you tonight. And I know what you’re gonna say now, so don’t.” Joyce screws her face up cutely, quickly brushing your pouted lips with her finger, as you both try to get each other to take yourselves seriously.

“You work yourself too hard.” You tell her again, for one of the few times, letting your voice be clear enough, just in case one of her sons hears and decides to help their dear mom out.

But Joyce steps forward, her eyes flicking behind you, at Jonathan, before she speaks lowly, close to your face “Well it’s nice I have you to help me afterwards then.”

When Joyce moves back, you allow her to see the look of pleasant surprise on your face. Joyce was rarely flirty in public, well she was a little, but mostly in ways where they could be taken as innocent instead. You loved seeing the more ‘Joyce’ sides of her being freed around you.

But, with a quick look around her home behind you, you had your sights set on a new task. And shoving back the want to lean forward and peck her, you squeeze Joyce’s hands instead, innocent enough. “Okay, I’ll be back in a second.”

You heard the chair behind you squeak, and watched Johnathan bin his cookie packet, giving him a quick salute with your now very free hands, and Johnathan attempts a small smile at you before leaving to his own room, headphones still in. Could he not have done that sooner?

“Okay.” Joyce gently touches your side, and you turn back to her with a smile. Joyce let you have free reign in her house, and you felt comfortable enough to do so. So while Joyce turned back to her kitchen, both of you keeping your smiling faces on each other until Joyce had to turn away with a flustered hand to her face, so cute, you made sure her back was turned, as you grabbed the overflowing laundry basket just outside her bathroom that you’d caught sight of, and started walking it down to her basement washer.

You stuff all of the clothes and towels in the washing machine, spotting a few of your own clothes you’ve worn recently, than Joyce had shoved to the bottom of the laundry basket. You laugh through your nose, shaking your head at how good Joyce is. Also, probably a good thing you didn’t inspire Johnathan to help his mom out. You fling a pair of your black underwear into the washing machine, along with Joyce’s similarly coloured bra. That one was your fault for getting dirty.

You add in the washing powder with the scooper in a box on her shelf, before shutting the lid, and making sure you were going to press the right buttons. Focusing so hard, you barely heard the creak of the stairs.

“You didn’t have to help with that!”

Joyce is smiling as she rides down the steps. You can assume she shut the door behind her, and you wave her off with a smirk.

“You’re a guest!” Joyce repeats, meeting you below with a pleased grin, but you chortle. “I’ve crashed here more nights than I can count, including the last two, and probably tonight. And well, I saw some of that in there was mine as well.” You blink sweetly at her, hoisting yourself on top of the washing machine, reaching your hands out for your lover with a smile. At least the eventual noise and floor distance might finally give you two some privacy. You can never keep your hands off each other for long.

Joyce takes your hands happily in her smooth ones, giving a big smile with her shoulders hiking and chin jutting out at you, before coming in, being helped by your pull, and leaning in for a kiss.

You move your arms to hold onto her waist, humming happily into your kiss as you finally get to hold her again. Joyce’s lipstick you’ve noticed her wearing more since seeing you, brushing faintly against your lips, as she rests her hands on your thighs. Both of you kissing sweetly.

“Wait.” You whisper against Joyce’s lips, her pulling back dotingly with a curious look. One of your hands stretches teasingly over her waist and lower back, holding her close as you tilt your head to her. “So they don’t hear.” You move down between your legs, letting Joyce follow your hand, before you turn on her washing machine. The hum and rattle quickly filling the air.

You two keep kissing for a while. Giggling, and playing with each other’s hair, hands only holding each other as you both make out. Joyce has a few strands of your hair in her hands, lips moulding perfectly, effortlessly, into your own, moaning pleased into your mouth as her fingers play. Meanwhile yours are fiddling with the hem of her shirt, she knows you want it off, like you always do. But as Joyce pulls back from one kiss for air, she notices your thighs pressed together. And then when she really looks, you thinking she’s just watching your body, as your face buries needily into her neck, Joyce realises you’ve been wiggling on her washing machine.

She slips her hand to the inside of your thigh, biting her lip to stop herself from giggling at your wet mewl right into her neck, stretching her fingertips so they can spread onto the vibrating machine. Now you look up.

“Naughty girl. Did you just wanna use my machine?” Joyce smiles, her brown eyes teasing and playful, as she rubs the inside of your thigh. She knows you love being called her good, and naughty girl. Being her girl.

You shake your head though. And Joyce’s expression widens teasingly, like she’s putting herself in charge of your game. “Oh no?” She asks you quietly, but still laughing, entwining your fingers with hers and pressing her soft lips against your hand as she does so.

You shake your head again. “Why would I need to use that, when I have you?” You ask at her teasing volume, innocently.

You watch Joyce blush, and you nudge her chin with your joined hands, beckoning her closer to share another deep kiss.

You feel Joyce sliding her tongue over yours, and you moan appreciatively as you kiss against it, allowing her into your mouth, taking it yourself, brushing your tongue softly over hers, rubbing up and down Joyce’s waist and slinking your hands under her shirt there. You love the times Joyce gets more confident. It hasn’t been too long with her, so it still takes a little while before she starts to be more forthcoming during your little sessions. Although with the way you’re going, you’re going to be completely dommed by her in almost every meeting. She’s had a few times of her own where she’s surprised you with that already. You were definitely not complaining though.

Joyce hooks her hands under your bare knees, in your shorts, pulling you closer, as her own legs stand firm against the rattling machine. You wrap your legs around Joyce, both of you pressing your chests together, wanting to be closer. Although you do notice with Joyce’s grip on your thighs, she’s still pushing your lower half into her machine.

You giggle into her kiss, relishing in the feeling of the bumps, and thuds, and swirls, and shakes, and buzzes of the machine you’re sitting on top of. Letting yourself feel all of it as you grab onto Joyce’s waist, pulling her lips into your own and letting her taste you, while you eat up her own moans. Hoping you’ll let her have a treat and discover how wet you are when her hand finally ventures there.

But pushing those needy thoughts aside for a moment, you know there’s something you want more.

You pull Joyce in even closer, running your hands up her bare back, so your fingers can play with her bra buckle, kissing her collar. “I want you to sit on here.” Your eyes go big.

“Noo honey, I-“ Joyce looks up at the ceiling, and you know there are other people in the house. But you’re very good at helping her keep quiet.

You remove your hands, stroking her face quickly. “I wanna treat you first, if we don’t have a lot of time.”

Slipping off the machine and landing on the floor, you sigh. Your legs jelly, and really feeling the loss of the vibrations. Feeling something wet and warm pooling immediately into your underwear now you’re stood.

At your sigh, a shiver runs up Joyce’s spine. Making her shudder, a quick breath coming out, as she looks to you in anticipation, and trust. Hooked, like always.

Holding her hand, you get Joyce sat on top of the machine. And as soon as she is, your hands are greedily at her waist again, and your tongue is lavishing on her neck before your lips can follow.

Joyce’s head rolls back, holding your lower half, and you lap your tongue over her neck, making your bottom lip drag up her skin as it follows.

Joyce moans breathily, deeply, and you can feel her chest brushing against your chin when you lean down to nibble your lips over her collarbone. Then, as your tongue flattens and your teeth nibble, as you suck a mark into the sensitive spot of Joyce’s neck, just below most of her shirt lines as agreed, although stretching this shirt with your greedy hands right now, a higher moan leaves Joyce. And you quickly place your hand over her mouth. Soothing the hickey with lots of small kisses, meeting her eyes and seeing how gushy her big brown orbs are.

You both look upwards, but no movement, no sound, you’re sure their music and the washing machine would cover you two anyway. Joyce gives your hand a kiss, and you smile down at her, humming happily as her lips detach from it, while you pull your hand away.

Hungrily, your tongue pokes through your lips as you quickly takes Joyce’s top off, her lifting her arms up to help you. You grasp her cheek as you kiss her again, letting her hair fall back into place, as she noisily lets her lips move in tandem with yours. Now starting to rock on the machine.

You move your head back, admiring the top half of her body in just her dark bra, running your hands up and down her waist. “You’re so pretty. Fuck. You’re so beautiful Joyce.” You lean your head into her cheek for a moment, pulling back, still holding her, admiring her, for how gorgeous she is. You still can’t believe she likes you enough too. She’s amazing.

“Thank you baby.” Joyce rasps out, her hands falling to your neck, and your face, and her eyes serious on yours. Lips sucked in, but still with a hint of a smile. You hold her face in both your hands, letting her know you’re really looking, right at her. “Oh my God, you’re so pretty. Seriously. Those eyes too God... I don’t know how I ever got so lucky.” You breathe out amazed. Smiling.

Joyce blushes, and you can see the emotion in her face. But a smile breaks out before anything else can, and you easily allow yourself to be pulled in for another kiss again. Eating her up, just as Joyce does you, both of you laughing smally into each other’s mouths. In fact, Joyce doesn’t seem like she wants to let go, still just kissing your lower lip and your chin messily, when you pull away. “You are too y/n. You’re fucking beautiful.” Joyce squeezes your face in her hands, like she’s having cuteness overload, and you just have to kiss her again. This time, through her smiling lips, some heavier breaths come through, and when you sink your hand in between her very closed off thighs, and she whines into your lips, and even then you can feel the vibrations through her, you know part of the reason why.

Moaning, nosing at her neck, you kiss down it again. This time slightly quicker, holding her small bare waist in your hands, your lips and your tongue spreading wet and meaningful kisses all the way down Joyce’s neck, and down her chest. Making sure to press them over the tops of both of her breasts.

Joyce’s hand goes to your head, watching you in awe, as she always does at seeing you worship her body. Her hand smooth over the back of your hair, and red lips stretched in a pleasured ‘o’ shape, her other hand bracing on your shoulder, body rolling into your mouth with each kiss you give her, eyebrows softly knitted, watching you entirely.

You kiss down her cleavage, and finish off at the point just before the centre of her bra starts, just barely pressing your face in, feeling your nose and lips slip by, as your hands continue caressing her warm waist. You kiss the small part of her bra holding her chest together - trapping her poor girls - before your kisses move down to praise all over her perfect stomach.

You move to crouch down, but your hands still hold Joyce there, massaging her waist as you kiss over her stomach, stopping just blow her belly button, and above the hem of her pants. And as you press your chin to Joyce’s tummy, you peer right up at her. Your big eyes on her lustfilled, loving brown ones, looking straight up at her, before quietly, under the hum of the machine, popping the button of her jeans.

[stevesxyellowxsweater]

I was wondering if you could do a joyce byers x daughter reader or daughter figure where the reader has a bad panic attack and joyce consoles/comforts them? I'm asking all around for this fic. I have really bad panic attacks so i'd like to think of joyce as a comfort.

cw: panic attack, exam pressure, stress, gn!reader Note: I hope this helps you in someway lovely.

Nothing was going right at the moment, you had been studying for your SATs and you couldn't help but feel the pressure. You needed a full ride to get into your college of choice and the more you tried to study the more you felt that it wasn't going into your head. 

It was starting to feel stuffy in your room, you were only wearing a shirt and shorts but it was getting incredibly hot and you just needed some air. Getting up, you went to the window and pushed it open. Taking some deep breaths of the air outside, closing your eyes for a moment as the cool breeze kissed your skin.

Feeling a little more relaxed, you turned to find the breeze had sent your notes flying everywhere. “No, no, no.” Rushing over you began to scramble to pick it all up, everything was mixed and nothing was in the order you'd had them. Scrambling to pick them up, your door flew open sending more notes flying everywhere.

“What do you want, Will?” You yelled at him as you saw notes heading out the bedroom door. “Can you give me a ride?” He asked sheepishly. “Ask Jonathan!” You snapped before pushing him out of the room and slamming the door. Sinking to the ground, tears began to trickle down your face as you sat against your bed with a mess of notes all around you. Your heart was starting to race harder than if you'd been doing gym.

“I'm going to fail, I'm not going to college… we can't afford it.” You began to stammer out, your breath catching in your throat as you felt your dreams disappearing right in front of you. Your hands began to shake and you could hardly see through the tears as you tried to breathe, each breath catching at the back of your throat preventing you from being able to properly breathe.

You'd always wanted to go and get a great job and be able to help your mother and now it felt like your dream was slipping through your fingers. The room felt like it was swaying side to side like that boat ride at the theme park, if you weren't sitting down you'd probably have fallen down. Your ears began to ring, a high pitch noise like a kettle. You moved your hands to cover your ears trying desperately to cover the noise. 

It was so loud you couldn't hear anything around you, not even a knock on your door. The door slowly opened and you saw your mother standing there, maybe she'd come to yell at you for how you spoke to Will, but the look on your face stopped her. With a worried expression on her face, Joyce stepped in and shut the door behind her.

She didn't say anything until she sat down in front of you and took your hands. “It's okay sweetheart.” She said gently as she looked you in the eyes. “I want you to follow my breathing okay?” Looking at your mother, you watched her breath in and you did your best to copy and only released when she did. “That's it sweetheart, and again.” 

You repeated the exercise several times before she moved to cup your face. “I have you, you're here with me. It's okay. In… and out.” She said slowly as she worked on your breathing and getting you to focus on her. “You're doing great. I'm really proud of you.” She told you as you took the breaths without her guiding you this time. 

“That's it sweetheart.” Joyce said slowly as she looked at you and wiped your eyes. “Whatever it is, whatever is scaring you, we can work through together.” Joyce assured you, as you remained focused on your mother’s face. “I have you, you're safe.” She said her soothing voice helped you calm down. 

As your breath returned to normal, she moved beside you and wrapped her arms around you. “I got you.” She uttered, placing a kiss on your head. “Whatever is upsetting you, we can talk when you're ready.” Resting your head on her chest, you listened to her heartbeat and closed your eyes, letting the calm wash over you until you were ready to talk.

[undreaming-fanfiction]

I don't even have a clear storyline in mind for this, but I just really, really want to see a modern AU with Eddie as a detective who investigates the Harrington Pharma company. The company is huge and looks clean on paper, but Eddie has a nose for these things, he knows something is wrong. He knows that Richard Harrington ran some sketchy trials and some of Wayne's friends have lifelong health issues, Chief Jim Hopper included.

The company looks almost impenetrable, but Eddie digs. No detail is too small for him. He crosses paths with the owner's son and a board member, Steve Harrington. Eddie despises him. A fucking rich kid, making millions out of other people's misery. His public appearances are well rehearsed, but Eddie knows his type. A shallow, pretty partying douchebag who hasn't had to work a single day in his life. His PR manager Robin Buckley seems way too decent to work with such a bunch of assholes, but Eddie's seen what money can do to people. Either way she's corrupted too.

He meets the younger Harrington several times. The handsome young man is not openly hostile, but he's condescending, bitchy and he looks at Eddie as if he were dirt. "Good luck with your efforts," he sneers when he sees Eddie digging through the public records of Harrington Pharma. "But maybe get a real hobby instead? I hear golf is nice." Eddie wants to murder him.

Eddie cooperates with an investigative journalist, Nancy Wheeler, who keeps all her cards close to her chest, but she still points him in the right direction several times. He collects evidence, partners up with the public prosecutor Joyce Byers. He even meets her son, Jonathan, who is able to get the most damning photographic evidence. No one fully trusts each other, but that's okay. Harrington Pharma is their shared enemy and that's enough.

One day, Eddie makes a mistake. He sneaks into the Harrington Pharma archives and miscalculates the guard shifts. He's stuck hiding under an old desk for hours, he's slowly losing hope, he has no way to contact anyone, his legs are cramping and he's exhausted, but then he hears a familiar voice talking with the guard.

"Hi, Tommy. All good? How's Carol and the kids? That's wonderful to hear. I just need to verify some records for dad, it's not a big deal. Have you had your smoke break yet? You can go, stretch your legs. I'll be here for at least half an hour."

Shit. It's Steve fucking Harrington. Eddie tries to stay still and will his muscles to cooperate, and he thinks he's doing a great job, but then-

"You can come out now. He's gone."

Eddie freezes. How the fuck does he know?

Harrington's voice is quiet, urgent. "Damn it, Munson! You have ten minutes tops before he comes back, so stop playing hide and seek with me!"

He manages to get back on his feet, uncertain and wobbly, and when he sees Harrington leaning over the desk, he's half ready for a fight. But the other man doesn't make a move, doesn't call out to anyone. He just hands Eddie a folder, some of them are the files he selected, but some are new. "I added a few that you missed," hisses Harrington and leans into the corridor. "I'll go first, get Tommy to focus somewhere else. You run to the right and pray to anyone willing to listen. And most importantly," he says, and shit, Steve Harrington can sound serious if he wants to!, "I never saw you here. You heard me come in, used the opportunity and bolted. Clear?"

Eddie just nods. He watches as Steve extends his arm, probably grabbing Tommy by the shoulders and leading him to the other end of the building, he sneaks as far as he can and then he madly dashes for the hole in the fence he made earlier.

The files are it. With all the evidence Nancy, Jonathan and Eddie collected, Joyce can finally take that dark empire down. Eddie is there every day, watches the trial, but then he hears that there are two witnesses for the prosecution from inside the company itself.

It's Steve Harrington and Robin Buckley.

He sees Steve give him a wink from the stand and he wants to kiss the man. Eddie hears all of it in the following days - how Steve used to date Nancy Wheeler, but then her best friend Barb Holland died due to a mishandled drug trial for her condition by Harrington Pharma. How Nancy broke up with Steve, but even with no chance of rekindling their relationship, he vowed to stop his father for good. How he worked in the company for years, climbed the ladder, managed to make enough connections to get his friend Robin Buckley the position of a PR manager. How she helped him to keep up the charade until the very end.

When the Harrington empire finally falls, Eddie watches quietly as Steve embraces Nancy, whispering to her that she did so well, that Barb would be proud. "We finally did it, Nance. We're finally free."

And then, before Eddie can disappear, Harrington is walking towards him, the mask finally off. He looks younger now, his smile is genuine and Eddie can't help it, his traitorous heart is telling him that this is the single part of the Harrington case he'll never leave behind.

"Hi," says Steve. "I...uh. I just wanted to say sorry for all the nasty things I said before. I had to for my cover, but...I just want you to know, I really appreciate what you did."

Eddie just stares at him, blush forming on his cheeks and a crush blooming in his heart. "I'm pretty sure I just butchered your career," he mutters. "And you're thanking me?"

Steve shrugs. "I mean. I'm out of job, I'm a known whistleblower now and my dad's lawyers will probably try to sue me. So that's not great. But if you want to ease your conscience...take me out for a coffee?" Another wink, another squeeze around Eddie's heart.

Eddie fakes a deep sigh and takes Steve by the elbow. "I don't think a single coffee is going to get rid of all my guilt, but it's a start. Maybe a lunch tomorrow would help my healing process?"

Laughing, Steve nudges his side. "Anything for your peace of mind, Eddie."

[withacapitalp]

Reasons

I wrote this for the STWG daily prompt today which was "Joyce" and uhhhhh I'm sorry haha thank you for @stevethehairington and @hairstevington for beta and encouragement and generally being the best of the best!

Read it on ao3 here

The thing Steve had always loved most about the Byers home was the clutter. 

There wasn’t a single surface that was bare. The tv stand was filled to the bursting with scratched up VHS tapes, the bookshelves crammed with dimestore paperbacks. There were always dishes on the kitchen table, magnets holding up dozens of drawings on the fridge, even the hallway was littered with picture frames. It was a complete contrast to the house he had grown up in, with bare cream colored walls and perfectly immaculate rooms. 

It was a mess, and none of the things in the Byers home were worth much, but every item in the home was treasured, important, valued. Everything in their home mattered. 

Now there was nothing left in the house. Nothing but boxes and empty air. 

Boxes.

And Steve. 

And Joyce.

“Where’d Jonathan and the kids go?” Steve asked when the silence had finally grown to be too much, looking around the barren space that used to be the living room. 

Joyce had always apologized for how uncomfortable the couch was. Every single time he had ended up on her doorstep late at night, after every midnight mug of hot cocoa, every midnight conversation where Steve finally finally let some of his anxieties slip out, she had led him over to that couch and wrapped him in a hand me down quilt that smelled old and worn and loved and apologized to him about how lumpy the couch was. 

Steve had never known what she was talking about. He had never slept anywhere that felt more comfortable. 

But the couch was gone now. Probably tucked away in the big box truck outside, or sold at the garage sale they had held last week. Or maybe Joyce had just thrown away like the trash it had always been, finally getting rid of the dead weight of a couch she didn’t really like all that much. 

She probably wanted a new couch for their new house. Something better.  

“They’re all at the Wheelers. Jonathan snuck out around three in the morning to go stay with Nancy tonight, and all of the kids slept over in the basement,” Joyce explained, a wry little smile falling on her lips as she fondly rolled her eyes at her children’s antics, “One last campaign before we hit the road.” 

Steve hummed, acting like this was fresh news to him when he already knew. He was the one that had driven Dustin, Lucas, and Max there. Hell, he had stayed to watch part of the campaign, and to give El and Will one last hug when it was just him and them. 

He wasn’t exactly sure why he was playing along, why he was continuing to pretend, but it was easier than just staring at the place where the couch used to live in complete silence. Better than Joyce knowing exactly how little she knew about Steve’s life these days. 

“I’ve missed seeing you around,” She tried, creeping just a little bit closer to where he was standing, “We haven’t really talked much since…”

Joyce trailed off but they both knew what she was talking about. 

Since the realtor's sign had appeared at the end of the Byers driveway. 

Since Joyce had finally had to admit that she was taking Jonathan, Will, and El away. 

Since their big fight. 

“I’ve been busy,” Steve said shortly, turning away from the living room and towards the kitchen, hoping that would take the spike out of his heart.

No, now the pain was worse, because the kitchen table was gone too, whisked away like it had never existed in the first place. Like Joyce had never sat him down there and patched him up after Billy’s fight, both of their eyes drooping with exhaustion but her fingers still sure and steady. Like Steve had never leaned against it, trying to understand his homework while Joyce did her best to explain why the color of curtains in a story mattered. Like there had never been breakfasts, or dinners, or midnight cups of hot chocolate that were only ever for the two of them. 

Like Steve had never had a place here at all. 

“What do you need from me? You said you needed something,” Steve asked in a rush, turning away from the kitchen as nausea began to bubble over in his stomach. He wanted to run, to break free, to escape Joyce and the house and all of the feelings that came along with it. He just wanted to give her whatever last thing she wanted to take and get away before too much of him broke. 

“I did. I mean is there something else you’re doing today?” Joyce asked, startled by Steve’s sudden shift, “I thought you might want to be here when-”

“Robin and I are going to an interview,” Steve said, interrupting her in a flash. He definitely did not want to be here when they left, and he did not want to be here to say goodbye. He had already done that. He had already said his piece to Jonathan and Will and El. 

Steve had nothing left to give to Joyce.

So why was he here? What could she want from him? 

“It’s a big interview for a job for both of us.” He continued, laying it on thick when they both knew how thin the excuse really was. He and Robin could have done this any day, at any time. Now that the mall was gone, they had their pick of the litter for shitty jobs in town. 

But Steve had purposefully asked Robin to plan the interview for today. He had done it the second Jonathan had told him their moving date. And Robin, saint that she was, had done it without asking why. 

He made his bed, just like Joyce had made hers, and now they both had to lie in it. 

“That’s…that’s great,” Joyce said, crossing her arms over her chest, her fingers twitching like she wanted to go for a cigarette. 

“Besides it doesn’t look like you need me,” Steve said, unable to help himself. He looked around, a bitter smile on his lips, “You’ve got it pretty well handled.” 

“Steve, honey…”

“Don’t,” He said immediately, stepping back when she tried to come forward to console him. That wasn’t her job anymore, it had never been her job in the first place, and Steve wasn’t going to fall for it again. 

He was stupid, but he learned. Eventually, he learned. 

“You already know what I think, and I don’t want to argue.” He said woodenly, the words coming out short and full of static. 

He didn’t want to argue again. Not like last time. 

Steve and Joyce had at least waited until Jonathan and Nancy had ushered all of the kids out of the house before exploding, but once it was just the two of them, it had been a supernova. Steve could barely remember what they had said, but he knew it was bad. That he had claimed she never cared about him at all, and she had told him that he wasn’t her responsibility. 

Steve knew she had called him an entitled brat at some point. 

Steve knew that he had called her a selfish bitch too. 

And he had no way of knowing if Joyce actually thought he was an entitled brat, but he didn’t want to hear it. Not again. It had been hard enough to forget the way it made him feel the first time. 

“It’s not an argument.” Joyce said softly, her voice as fragile as glass as she slowly lowered her hand down from where it had been reaching out to bring him into a familiar, warm, hug, “I just need you to know that it’s over now. I don’t want you looking over your shoulder for the rest of your life, trying to find monsters that aren’t there.” 

“Do you really believe that?” Steve asked, finally looking Joyce in the eye, “Really?”

“Yes,” She said immediately. Steve could see it in her eyes, in her voice, in the way she held herself. 

She did believe it. Joyce really thought it was over. Or, at the very least, she had made herself believe that she believed it.

“Then stay,” Steve whispered, loathing himself for saying it. He had promised himself he would never again beg for someone not to leave, but now he had done it twice in just a month. Twice. Because the first time apparently hadn’t been humiliating enough. 

But Steve’s hope had always been more powerful than his shame, and he couldn’t help but pray that she would listen this time. Joyce would see what leaving was doing to all of them and change her mind. It didn’t matter that the house had already been sold and the truck was already stuffed to the bursting with their belongings, it could all be undone. 

Steve would carry it all back in himself, even. The couch, the kitchen table, the hand me down quilt, everything that had made this house the first place he had actually felt at home. 

She could undo it all. She could put their lives back together, back to the way they had been before, and Steve wouldn’t have to think about it ever again. He wouldn’t have to agonize over how Will and El would adjust to high school without the rest of their friends, or worry about Jonathan being alone in his senior year. He wouldn’t have to think about his own empty house and the bare cream walls that hated him just for existing. 

He wouldn’t have to wonder why he wasn’t enough to care about. Why everyone eventually always left him. 

“If it’s gone, then there’s no reason to leave,” Steve muttered, his eyes burning as he turned them downward to the floor between them, feeling like he was eight instead of eighteen. A child instead of the adult they both knew him to be. 

An adult. Soon to be the last adult left in Hawkins that knew about the Upside Down. The last adult the rest of them had to rely on. 

“There’s a thousand reasons,” Joyce sighed, pulling out her most beloved weapon, “And I have to protect my kids,”

Her kids. Her kids. Not her boys anymore, now her kids, because of El. 

But what about Steve’s kids? What about Max and Dustin and Lucas and Mike and Erica? How was he alone supposed to protect them when the monsters came? 

What about Nancy? What about Robin? They were older, but they were still kids, weren’t they? They still needed someone to be the adult. 

And a quiet, almost silent part of him, couldn’t help asking

What about me?

“From what? If it’s really over, then what are you protecting them from?” Steve asked, a question he had already pressed her to answer in their last argument. 

Joyce didn’t have an answer, because they both knew the truth. This wasn’t about the kids. Not Jonathan. Not Will. Not El. 

It was about Joyce. What she wanted, what she felt like she had to protect herself from. 

And the worst part was Steve understood. He got why she had to leave, why she couldn’t bear to stay here any longer than she had to, but what he couldn’t understand, what he would never understand, was the need to hide behind a shadow. 

“You don’t have to say the truth, but, please, don’t tell me a lie,” Steve said quietly, Joyce sucking in a sharp breath as he carefully threw her own words back in her face. 

She had said it to him dozens of times over the last year, and dozens of times he had caved and told her the truth. 

But Joyce was not Steve. 

“Steve, it's too late to go back on this.” Joyce said firmly, as if her tone would be enough to spontaneously change Steve’s mind. He scoffed, shaking his head and turning away from her to stare out the front window. He welded his lips together, planning to keep his mouth shut and ice her out until Joyce finally got annoyed enough to cut him loose. 

It wouldn’t take long. 

It had only taken her six weeks to pack up their whole lives and completely tear apart Steve’s. 

“I want you to come with us.”

“What?” Steve said, the shock of Joyce’s words enough to make him speak without meaning to. 

“That’s why I wanted you to come here before everyone else,” Joyce said, trying to walk towards Steve again. This time he was too startled to stop her and she entered into his space, a soft smile on her face. The same smile she used to give him when she would push his hair away from his face at night, and tell him that he didn’t need to stay awake. 

That she would be there, and nothing was going to get between her and her boys. 

She had always said it, and they had always both known that she meant more than just Jonathan and Will. 

“I wanted to ask you to come with us,” Joyce repeated, laying a soft hand on his arm. 

“I don’t understand,” Steve said helplessly, his heart starting to race, the bare walls beginning to close in. 

“The house we bought has a little condo next to it that’s free, and I’m sure that Doctor Owens would be able to get it put in your name the way he got mine,” Joyce explained, a plan laid out neatly, too neatly, “There’s lots of jobs out in Lenora, or you could even go to the community college there. Take some classes while you figure out what you want to do?”

This was not a spur of the moment offer. Joyce had to have thought about it before this morning. More than once. 

“You want me to move to Lenora with you guys?” Steve heard himself ask, a spring blossom blooming in his chest without his permission. A little seed of hope that had no reason to exist at all. 

Joyce nodded, her smile growing, and for a second Steve let himself think about it. Truly and honestly think about it. 

He let himself imagine a world where he didn’t go to his interview with Robin this afternoon, and instead stayed here. Packed up the rest of the boxes, hopped in the van with Joyce, and went out to California. Where there was never any snow to shovel, no Mother and Father to disappoint, no dead end job to hate. 

No monsters waiting to jump out of the shadows. 

A life that was only about what he wanted, what Steve thought would be best for him. A life that came with a family that wanted him. 

“It’s over and done and nothing is holding you here anymore,” Joyce pressed, looking around the empty house, “There’s no reason for you to stay.”

And the dream was gone. 

Crushed into bits, shattered like a plate against a skull. 

Steve had reasons, seven of them. Seven people. Seven people who had gone through hell three times for a town that didn’t care and didn’t notice. Seven people who  

Seven people who deserved someone to protect them. Someone who would put them first. 

Steve had never been enough of a reason for anyone to stay, never been enough to put first. Not enough for his parents, not enough for Nancy, and now not enough for Joyce. 

But he would never let his kids think the same about themselves. 

“No, there’s no reason for you to stay,” Steve spat out, hating how bitter he sounded, but hating even more that he had let himself fall for the same trap again. Somewhere along the way he had let those walls down, let another person in, and let her put herself where she didn’t belong. 

That was the truth wasn’t it? They both knew Joyce didn’t fit where they had put her. She was never going to be his mother, and Steve had never fit into her life, but he had played pretend anyway. Ignored all the signs, ignored all the little whispers in his head that told him he was getting too close, trusting too much. He had let her brush his hair, and help him with his homework, and say the words her boys like she meant to include him. 

And now Joyce was just reminding him exactly how much he meant in the grand scheme of things. 

And, really, Steve only had himself to blame for the way his heart was starting to break into tiny impossible to put back together pieces. His mistake. His stupidity. 

He just never fucking learned. 

“At least there no reason to stay that actually ever mattered to you,” He added with a laugh that did not sound at all funny, walking out the door before he could hear another one of her lies. 

[m3talmunson]

WORD COUNT: 2,296 (just warning u <3 enjoy loves)

Steve didn't expect anyone to remember. It's not like his parents ever remembered to leave a message. It's not like Nancy remembered (although, a couple months later she called him bullshit, and well, that takes the cake). He never bothered to tell the kids, and he didn't blame Robin for not remembering when the day they told eachother they were still coming off of those Russian drugs. He remembered hers though. He remembered that her birthday was March 10th. He threw her a surprise party, invited her band nerds, invited Eddie, fresh out of the hospital, invited Dustin and Erica, their whole trauma bonded troop.

And somehow in the mix, a month later when it was his turn, nobody remembered his.

That was, at least, what he believed. But one person remembered.

A week prior, Dustin had got his grubby little hands on the information of Steve's birthday. He needed to know and wasn't willing to ask Steve, not willing to expose that he didn't know the older man's birthday. So he asked around.

After going down the list, through most of the other kids, through Robin, and even Eddie, he ended up slinked over at the Byers-Hopper residence, quizzing El on how far her powers go, if she could maybe find a way to figure out his birthday. El explained that she probably can't do that, but she was willing to try for Dustin's sake. She rushed into the living room, Dustin in tow, finding the nearest radio and trying to rush out with it before getting stopped by Hopper and Joyce, who were on the couch watching the TV, which those two gremlins so unceremoniously cut in front of it twice already.

"Woah woah woah! Slow down there, what's going on?" Hop asked. He knows when El frantically needs access to a radio, that something's going on.

"It's Steve." She says, not offering any context. That immediately gets Joyce into defensive mode. Nobody messes with her boys. Or any of her kids, for that matter.

"What's wrong with Steve?" She asks, jolting up out of her comfortable position.

"Woah hold on, he's ok!" Dustin explains. At that, Joyce let's out a relieved sigh and lays back into Hoppers arm that was just wrapped around her.

"Yes! He is ok, we just need to see him." El finally explained.

"Yeah! About early June a year ago I said something about his age and I was wrong, which means his birthday is some time soon and I don't know it! And El said she might know a way to find out!"

"Oh you don't need to go through all that! Steve's birthday is next Thursday. I was gonna make him a cake and bring it to his house, like I did last year! Why didn't you just ask around?"

All three of the others in the room were confused by her response, even Hop, who had never even thought of the idea of doing something for the Harrington boy's birthday, even though he's the closest thing to a father figure the boy has got.

"Next week??" Hopper asked, suddenly feeling bad for not knowing that about the boy, or that Joyce has been the only one caring for him the year prior on his birthday.

"No I did ask around! You just happen to be the only person in Hawkins to know it!" Dustin said, cutting off any answer that might have come to Hopper's question.

"Not even Nancy or Robin or Eddie?"

"Nope. You're the only one." El said. El didn't really have a birthday, so they threw her a 'Found You!' party every year. It gave Will something better to focus on that day every year, so it made everyone pretty happy. She knew how much birthdays meant now.

"Well that just can't be. We'll have to throw him a party. Everyone needs a good send off into year 20." Hopper said, standing up and getting Joyce and El and Dustin to the dining room table, pulling Will away from his painting too, to plan how they were doing this.

One game plan, a thoroughly scribbled-on napkin, and a couple of phone calls later, Robin and Eddie were in on it, finding a way to get Steve from work to the Byers-Hopper house on a random Thursday. Robin wouldn't be working that day, so Steve wouldn't need to drive her to work. Eddie was fresh out of high school, (it really was his year!) so he did actually have a job, but he was pretty used to spending his lunches at Family Video.

They decided that Eddie would offer to hang out after work, shoot the shit or whatever, and pick Steve up from his house after work, bringing him to the house where the kids and everyone would be waiting.

This year, Steve was going to feel valued, no matter what.

~~~~~

Steve woke up, dreaded his shift ahead, and got ready as per usual that day. It didn't really matter that it was his birthday, there was no red dot on the receiver saying anyone else knew it was his birthday and might have called, so he pretended it was just a normal day, exactly like the rest of the world was doing.

The real crime is that his birthday fell on a Thursday. Thursdays, even over summer, are the slowest days for Family Video, so they don't even bother scheduling two people for the day. So he couldn't even hope Robin had maybe remembered his birthday, because he wouldn't see her all day. He would at least see Eddie, who he thought didn't know his birthday, so he couldn't feel bad for not telling Eddie, and Eddie couldn't feel bad for forgetting.

He had grown to love Eddie's lunch visits, sitting behind the counter talking to someone who understood him, who he could lower his mask around. Not all the way though. There are some parts of Steve that are for Robin's eyes only. Like the fact that he has feelings for Eddie. Feelings that he intended to keep hidden away. Where they were safe. Where he was safe.

Nonetheless, he lit up when that bell above the door chimed at 12:35, accommodating the quick ride from the record store Eddie worked at.

And, so what if Eddie didn't know it was his birthday, Eddie still asked to hang out after work, said "I found a spot you'll want to see," in that voice of his that eludes mischief, and Steve was in. He was going to go home, put on a nicer shirt and the watch he forgot on the bathroom counter that morning, and he was going to hang out with Eddie for his birthday.

He kept that dinky little smirk on his face for the rest of the day, and clocked out the moment Keith walked into those doors to pick up the closing shift, not sticking around for chit chat. He had 20 minutes till Eddie was off of work, which meant he had 30 minutes to get home, change shirts, spray on fresh cologne, and then pretend he wasn't waiting by the door to hear Eddie knock.

When he did though, Steve was not prepared to see a Eddie's bandana wave at him.

"You're gonna want full shock value for this one, big boy." Eddie said, whilst Steve hoped Eddie didn't see the blood rise to his cheeks at the nickname.

"Can I at least put it on in the van?"

"I'll settle for that if you don't gripe about the music!" Eddie joked. He had actually gotten a tape from Jonathan of Tears for Fears, so he knew Steve wouldn't.

"How am I supposed to do that when you blare it loud enough for Indianapolis to hear?"

"I think you'll like it today Stevie." Eddie said, opening the car door for Steve and giving a little bow, then watching Steve tie the bandana around his eyes as he walked around to the driver's side.

"Feel like I'm getting the full El treatment." Steve chuckled, as he heard the car door open.

"Hardy har, just make sure you can't see. I mean the shock value thing." He said, turning the key in the ignition. As the music started, Steve let out a little gasp, and reached blindly for Eddie's arm beside him.

"Is this?? Tears for Fears?? Aw, Eds, you don't hate all of my music after all, how sweet." Steve joked.

Eddie was thankful that Steve was blindfolded, so he couldn't see the pink tinge to his face.

"Just for you Stevie."

Steve relished in the quiet music, the bumps in the road, and the comfortable silence between him and Eddie with a smile on his face. It was a miracle, to Steve, that someone cares for him on his birthday, even unknowingly, because it hadn't happened in so long. Steve was even contemplating telling Eddie it was his birthday, thanking Eddie for the best birthday he had in a long time, when the van stopped, and the music right after.

"We're here!" Eddie told Steve. "Ah ah ah, don't take the blindfold off, I'll help you where we're going. Full. Shock. Value."

"I'm beginning to think it's a special occasion or something." Steve said, like it wasn't one. That hurt Eddie's heart a little, but it's ok, he thought. Steve will know how loved he is soon.

"C'mon, I'll help you up the steps." Eddie offered, grabbing Steve's hand for completely platonic reasons.

"Steps? Eddie where are we?" Steve asked.

"Full shock value, remember?" He said, opening the door for Steve and guiding by the shoulders into the Byers-Hopper living room, where the party, Jonathan, Nancy, Robin, Joyce, and Hopper were waiting behind a cake that Hopper haphazardly stuck 20 blue and green candles on. Lucas even dragged Erica along, when she pretended she didn't want to go wish Steve happy birthday.

"Blindfold off Stevie." Eddie said.

Steve didn't expect anyone to remember. Didn't expect to peek from behind the blindfold with one eye and be serenaded with a chorus of "SURPRISE!!!"

He stepped back into Eddie at the loud noise, Eddie grabbing back on to Steve's shoulders.

Steve didn't expect Joyce to be holding up a cake with 20 lit candles, didn't expect Dustin to rush to his side, didn't expect Hopper to clap him on the back after he stepped forward.

"Happy birthday kiddo." Hop said.

"How did you- when did- guys!!" He said, looking down at the cake.

"Red velvet and chocolate icing, with blue and green candles, your favorite." Joyce told him.

"Just like last year-" He was cut off by Joyce putting down the cake on the coffee table and wrapping Steve up in a hug. Which caused the rest of the group, even Mike, to wrap Steve in a huge group hug. When they all pulled away, Lucas held up the cake.

"Make a wish, man." He said.

"Guys- I don't deserve all this, how can I-"

"Oh cut the shit Steve, we love you. Now, you heard him, make a wish."

And so, Steve closed his eyes, thought for a second, and blew out the candles. And then, just like that, the big old sheet cake was getting sliced into enough squares for all of them.

As the party went on, and they all laughed, and drank an obscene amount of soda, Steve slipped into the silent outdoors offered by the Byers-Hopper back porch swing. He stared off into the treeline, hoping nobody would notice his absence. He would be back inside in a minute or two, he just needed to catch his breath after it all. Then he heard the squeak of the screen door, and saw Eddie's leather jacket sleeve before looking back into the tree line.

Eddie took a seat to Steve's right, and placed a little wrapped package on Steve's lap.

"Oh Eddie, you didn't have to-"

"Open it." Eddie cut him off.

Steve carefully tore the (oddly enough, very neatly done) wrapping paper away, revealing a hellfire shirt.

"You? You got me a hellfire shirt? But I'm not a part of the party?" Steve failed to stop the smile from leaking into his face.

"Of course you are? Considering how since school got out you've let us use your house, you drive the goblins around, and you've been doing it for years! It's about time you have one." Eddie explained.

Now, Steve couldn't stop the tears from gathering in his eyes.

"Yeah but, I don't deserve any of this. Anyone can drive those kids around, anyone can lend you a space, it's the least I could do. Hell, I'm not even going to college, I'm just another a high school has-been asshole working at a barely above minimum-wage job. There's so many better people you guys could have chosen to care about." Steve settled his eyes back on the treeline, trying his best to hide the tears that his voice revealed, that were now slowly streaming down his face.

"Steve no. Absolutely not. You're so much more than that to all of us. To me." That got Steve to look back at Eddie. Eddie held Steve's face in his hands, let the tears run down his arms."You're our warrior, you keep those little misfits safe, you saved my life. And we all know you would take bullets for those dorks. You heard Little Red. We love you, Steve..." Eddie hesitated, looking away for a moment. "I love you, Steve. Even if none of the other assholes in this world will, I do."

Steve couldn't let Eddie go on any longer. Not when he was saying stuff like that. So he closed the distance. And when Eddie kissed back, he knew everything would be alright.

He didn't expect people to remember. He didn't expect people to care about him. But now he finally understood, the unequivocally did.

[blaqcats-fics]

TAKE A CHANCE ON ME

STWG DISCORD DRABBLE

STEDDIE + DRAG QUEEN!STEVE AND DRAG KING!ROBIN. PROMPT: FINISHING A PROJECT

"How many more?" Stevie groaned, falling onto the couch, her fishnets shifting up further. Her face grimaced as she adjusted on the couch, hoping the night would end sooner than later. Her tuck was starting to become uncomfortable.

Robin was leaning in the mirror, checking his contour to make sure it hadn't creased or faded. He glanced at Steve through the mirror, "Well, depends if you make your goal with your next show," he said. "You need about 500 to pay for the deposit."

Stevie frowned. 500 dollars was much more than she typically made at night. A good night would be around 200 dollars, but those were around holidays. Most nights were slow and had few people, especially since she was still getting her foot in the door with drag. "The crowd's not that good tonight."

Robin turned in his chair to look at her, scratching underneath his stubble. "Yeah," he sighed. "It's getting later, so maybe you'll get lucky with a few guests."

Stevie licked her lips, remembering the tips she could get, "Yeah. At least it's more money than I got selling Cumshots."

Robin snorted. "Oh my god, you in the golden speedo? You looked like Rocky!"

"Okay, yeah," Stevie laughed. "That was before I started drag. I only started to work here so I could support you," she reminded.

"Now look at you, Ms. SS Butterscotch," Robin joked.

"God, that's such a stupid name isn't it?" Stevie laughed.

Robin rolled his eyes, "Not much worse than Rocky Road."

They looked at each other before laughing at each other.

A knock on the door broke them from their laughter, and one of the club bouncers opened the door and stuck his head in. "You're on Stevie," he said.

Stevie pouted in annoyance, her feet already from performing earlier. "Alright," she said, sitting up. "I'm coming. Thanks, Hopper."

The man grunted before leaving the room.

"500," Robin said.

Stevie nodded, standing, "500."

"Suck someone's dick if you have to," Robin said.

Stevie gave him a look before going to the mirror and checking her wig. It wasn't anything extravagant, just a wig that matched her natural hair color and made it seem like Farrah Fawcett’s Feathered Hair from Charlie's Angels.

"Okay, wish me luck,' Steve winked, heading out the room.

"Break a leg!" Robin called.

Steve grinned, walking to one of the stage managers, double checking everything was set correctly, before adjusting the padding on her chest and stepping out on the stage as the intro to Take A Chance on Me started to play, mouthing the lyrics as she did.

The spotlight followed her as she walked across the stage, catching the sequins of her white dress and the glitter in her eyes. She shot a few winks to guests as they cheered. Stevie continued to move around the stage, taking the dollar bills as they were held out to her before making her way into the crowd.

As she walked down the aisles, a man caught her eyes, and her act nearly faltered. She caught her composure and walked in his direction, taking the money and note from his hand. She felt her face flush as he winked at her.

Oh my god.

OH MY FUCKING GOD!

Eddie Munson was at the shittest Drag Club in Indianapolis and winked at Stevie. He gave her a tip! What in the everloving fuck?

Stevie bit her lip, winking back at him before turning around and getting the rest of her tips as she sang the lyrics, making her way back upstage as the song started to end. Another bouncer handed her a bucket as she got on stage, letting her put the money in there.

The song closed, and through the speakers, she could hear Joyce call out, "A round of applause for our very own SS Butterscotch!"

Stevie gave a bow, her eye's catching Eddie as she did. She grinned a bit before hurrying off stage with her bucket. She pushed past people going back into Robin's dressing room and he pulled his wig off.

"Steve, what the hell?"

"Robin, Eddie Munson is here!"

"What!?" Robin shrieked.

"He's here and he winked at me!"

"Oh shit, Dingus!"

Steve nodded, kicking his heels off and digging for the note in the bucket that was attached to the tip. He felt his mouth go dry as he counted the money. "He tipped me 500," he whispered, holding up the five bills.

"Steve, you can buy the bakery!"

"I can buy it!" Steve let out a choked sob, looking at the note, which had a messy number written on it with the note saying:

I can take a chance on you if you'll take a chance on me x

[she-is-tim]

August 1987.

Eddie took a deep breath after finally being able to loosen the damn tie Harrington and all the kids insisted him on wearing. It’s not like this was some huge event with fancy people, just all their trauma bonded family and a couple friends. They even invited Wayne, who was now in deep conversation with the groom at the snack tables with a glass of champagne in his hand. He looked so out of place with his secondhand tuxedo and shy expression, but at the same time so fitting as well. Eddie felt a soft smile creep its way on his face.

He tapped his pockets and pulled out a box of cigarettes from inside his suit, hitting it a few times until one came out that he took between his lips. The wedding party was held in a barn somewhere in the middle of nowhere. Eddie thinks it belonged to Murray or his family, he isn’t sure. The kids did a great job decorating it with the lead of Nancy and Robin. He was sure no one will scold him for smoking, so he grabbed his lighter, taking a long drag when his cigarette was lit. His lungs welcoming nicotine like an old friend, making him feel instantly relaxed.

The girls had pulled his hair in such a tight bun it felt like his skin was all stretched out thanks to it. “You can’t go to a wedding with a birds nest of a hair on your head” Max said to him this morning before she and the others ganged up on him. It was pure torture, but at least Buckley agreed to help him put on eyeliner and Wheeler painted his nails black for him. He actually thought even with the scars peeking from under his collar he looked quite exquisite. Steve complimented him too when he came in with the tie, adorable blush spread on those pretty cheeks of his. Eddie felt just a little bit embarrassed as the other stepped up to him, the girls long gone, leaving them alone in the room.

Harrington wrapped the tie around his neck, eyes focusing on tying it properly since Eddie told him he had no idea how to do it. They were silent through it all, but it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence. Once Steve was done he let his hands rest on his chest, looking up at Eddie with those pretty eyes of his. Eddie wanted to kiss him so badly, but of course they were disturbed by Dustin bursting into the room. He loved the kid, he really did, but sometimes he could really smack him on the back of the head.

As he kept smoking his eyes found Steve in the crowd, hips slowly swaying to the light jazz playing from speakers installed on the side of the wall. He was talking to Jonathan Byers, clearly enjoying himself. Eddie knew he had no reason to feel jealous, but he couldn’t help himself. Harrington looked incredibly good tonight and he wished to have all his attention to himself. Still just watching him was enough for now.

He was close to finishing his cigarette when someone appeared next to him, laying against the wall. Eddie was ready to give an excuse for smoking inside when he turned and saw the bride herself smiling at him with her gentle, motherly expression. Damn Eddie loved this woman so much.

“Shouldn’t you be dancing with the guests?” Eddie asked in a teasing tone. Him and Joyce had become quite close after the events of last spring when she decided to welcome him in their found family, developing some sort of mother-son relationship while also being able to act like old friends.

“I danced so much I think my legs are about to fall off.” the woman scoffed at him, waving around the white heels in her left hand she was still wearing not long ago. “These things are awful.”

Eddie chuckled. “Well, I never wore one myself, but they do look terribly uncomfortable.” He said, crushing the cigarette on the side of a beer can he had next to him on a table and threw the butt inside of it. “How are you doing?” He asked, while he pulled out his box again, offering a cigarette to the bride, who thankfully accepted it. Eddie lit both of their cigarettes while waiting for her answer.

“Never been happier.” She said with an honest smile. “What about you, sweetheart?” She asked, tilting her head towards Eddie while exhaling a cloud of smoke.

“What about me?” Eddie deadpanned, playing dumb. Joyce rolled her eyes.

“You really gonna let this opportunity slide? You two are perfect for each other.” She said, pointing her right hand towards the way where Steve still stood in deep conversation with her eldest son.

“We talked about this, Joyce.” He sighed, taking another drag from his cigarette. “I can’t give him what he wants. We couldn’t even be able to have a public relationship.” He groaned and let his head hit the wall behind him with a small thud.

“Honey… Steve looks at you like you hung up the moon and the stars. All he wants is to be with you, I’m sure that’s something you can give him easily.” She said with a soft smile and Eddie felt tears trying to spill over his lashes. He took a deep breath and tried to blink them away.

“I really like him Joyce…” he mumbled, voice barely audible over the music, but seemingly she heard him just fine. “I am just so scared because I never felt like this for anyone.”

“Oh, darling…” she put her hand on his shoulder, squeezing it softly. “I know it’s scary, believe me.” She was talking to him, but her eyes were now fixed on her husband and Eddie’s uncle at the other side of the barn. “Loving someone is a scary thing, but it’s also a beautiful and wonderful feeling. Don’t take this away from yourself.” She turned back to him with the sweetest, most motherly smile Eddie had ever seen. He gulped, throwing his half smoked cigarette in the beer can and wrapped his arms around the woman next to him. Joyce let out a soft laugh and hugged him back, rubbing her hands up and down the boy’s back.

“Thank you.” He whispered in her ear before letting her go. He took a deep breath and braced himself as he turned to where Steve was standing, surprised to realize the boy was already gazing at him. His eyes were sparkling, lips turned up in a soft smile when he noticed Eddie looking at him.

Eddie smiled back and started walking towards him, determined to confess his feelings for the other boy, because at the end of the day, he couldn’t imagine his future without him. He fucking loved Steve Harrington.

[idk-ilike5sos]

The thing was, Will Byers loved hot chocolate. He loved the sickly richness as a slight burning coated his tongue. He loved the warmth reaching his stomach. He loved the mug defrosting his fingers, colouring his skin from blue to red. He loved the oversweet sugar of the whipped cream and marshmallows; though, most of the time, it wasn't needed.

He'd loved it since forever, but it became a staple for the colder months when he was six years old. Jonathan was ten - Will remembered the birthday card he'd made at school, blue-tacked above the desk as a crayon drawing peaked between the opening.

They were holding ground at the usual safe haven: Jonathan's bedroom. The cracked open door widened and quickly clicked shut as the yelling outside went muffled and almost indecipherable ("You're acting crazy!" "I'm acting– You're making me crazy, with your fake promises! I can't trust a word out of your mouth!" "Oh, here we go, blame me, Joyce. You know, maybe you should learn to take some fucking accountability for once in your life–").

Heavy on the almost.

Within one of Will's fast-pulsing heartbeats, Jonathan placed down two mugs on his desk and fiddled with cassette tapes before shoving one at random into a secondhand boombox. The volume twisted higher as the yelling got closer, and a door Will knew to be his parents swung open; soon enough, his ears drowned in a vibrating bass and strumming electric guitar.

Before Will could think to ask what they were arguing about this time - causing another one of those guilt-ridden, reluctant looks from his brother - a warm mug was forced into his small hands, an overflowing mountain of whipped cream with marshmallows peaking out from beneath. Will’s eyes lit up, then batted to meet Jonathan's: red and glossed in the early morning, window light. A smile pulled Will’s mouth, only just reaching his eyes as he hoped to watch the watery look dry out of Jonathan’s ghostly disposition.

Minutes turned into forever, and the two sat on Jonathan’s bed as the music blared over the screaming and crashing. The tension didn't leave the air, and the glaze refused to leave Jonathan’s stiff eyes - but the sweet, warming hot chocolate was a woolly blanket in a blizzard.

Will was pretty sure it was the best thing he'd ever drank.

He could remember the weeks that followed his return from The Upside Down and how Joyce had woken him up with a steaming mug every morning, alongside offering more and more throughout the day. It was only store brand cocoa powder in boiled milk, but Will decided that tasted the best anyway.

Still, on the worst days when Will refused to move from his bed and only Joyce and Jonathan were allowed to enter his room: Jonathan would be sent to the store to buy the special stuff. The more expensive, branded hot chocolate, giant marshmallows, and sickly whipped cream.

And in each sip, he couldn't resist the hug he was instantly wrapped in.

On the first night in Lenora, the family had a mug after dinner as they all pretended they didn't miss Hawkins as much as they did. But the time Will thought of more often was a month later; leaving the bathroom in the middle of the night, he passed the living room to find the TV glowing across the carpeted floor as a hunched over silhouette sat in front of an old movie. When he approached the figure, El revealed tears in her eyes, and Will was quick to figure it wasn't because of the movie playing in front of her.

So, the tradition continued.

It was great that El grew just as big a fan. Some of his favorite mugs had been shared between them in secret at the end of his bed in the middle of the night, while the rest of the world became static. It was easy to forget time with her. As, all of a sudden, superpowers, demogorgons, and alternate universes didn't exist: and the irony that they would've never met without any of them never reached the two, because in that moment they'd known each other their entire lives.

After defeating Vecna once and for all, the Hopper-Byers returned to the Wheeler's house, where they were all staying for the time being. Will and Mike readied to pass-out in bed, but the tiredness left them, and all they could do was lay atop the comforter motionless as they silently stared at the ceiling. At some point, Mike had left the room, but Will didn't notice until he returned with two mugs and a stiff smile. As the darkness faded into the morning, they sat on Mike's bed and whispered the night away. For the most part, the mugs were untouched, as they quickly went cold and were discarded on the nightstand.

Because the truth was, Will didn't actually want a hot chocolate. In fact, he didn't a lot of the times he'd shared one with someone. He did, however, want the soft, comforting blanket that Jonathan had turned it into a decade ago.

It wasn’t about the hot chocolate. It was never about the hot chocolate - it was the people he shared it with as he gave up a piece of himself with every cup he made for someone and a weight lifted off his shoulders in each sip.

[autizmoeddiemunson]

Bunny

Short ficlet about Joyce comforting Billy(based on a dream I had)

Billy had a horrible day. He saw Neil at the grocery store, that was hard enough, the harder part was him staring at Billy the whole time. As soon as he finished shopping, he rushed home, threw the groceries at Hopper, and rushed into his room. He paced back & forth in his room in an attempt to calm himself.

After a few minutes and his breathing not evening out, there was a soft knock on his bedroom door. Joyce stepped in and sat on the bottom bunk of his bed. “Are you ok, sweetie?” The question broke him, he sobbed even harder as he began pacing again.

“Can you name some things you see?” She tried to ground him, to bring him down enough to at least breathe, but he couldn't speak. “Well you know what I see?” She asked, looking around the somewhat messy room. He looked up from his hands, showing his lovely blue eyes full of tears. “I see Bunny, I see your hair products, I see your makeup, I see your journal, and I see your snake.”

Bunny. That would help. Billy hugged the large stuffed bunny and cried into the soft fur, laying face-down on it. Joyce pet the soft blonde curls as he cried. “Mom…” he whimpered. She tries to hug him the best she could with the awkward angle, she didn’t care though, Billy needed her and she was gonna be there for him.

[collectivecloseness]

joyce loves praising you when you're being such a good girl for her, but she definitely isn't afraid to put you in your place when you're being a little mouthy

Anon, do you know when I saw I had a Joyce ask, I literally went “eeeeeehee!”

She really does love praising you. Joyce loves laying on the “good girl”s, and the little treats, and giving you all the affection you want, when you’re being so good for her. She loves seeing her good girl do as she says, and be happily doing so the entire time. When you’re so good, Joyce loves being able to tell you so, and reward you. You get so cute trying to please her.

And also you love being praised by Joyce. Because Joyce just gives you the vibes of someone you want to make proud. And you aim so hard to do that when you’re behaving. Nothing feels better than having Joyce smother you in praise and affection, saying you deserved all the goodness she’s gonna give you now. Seeing that you’ve made her so happy! Hearing her say she’s so proud of you :’)

I also think Joyce definitely rewards you with kisses. And not just normal kissing and making out, that happens anyway. Any time you do something cute, or you agree straight away, or you’re being good, Joyce smiles happily at you, and gives you a quick kiss to your lips as she carries on. You end up getting so many kisses from her in sessions where you’re just being her best girl.

Joyce can also never resist when you look at her and ask “Kiss?” Or “Kissy?” With such a hopeful tone. Or sometimes, a depraved one, if she’d really been denying you, but you’d finally been forgiven. Of course, if you’re being naughty, you don’t get kisses.

But Joyce thinks you’re so cute, especially when you’re playing sub, that she’s always smiling at you and treating you so well. Really looking after you and being affectionate and loving and nice. All as she gives you what you need, and does things that make her feel good, watching you happily join her.

But yes. Joyce isn’t going to play your silly games if you’re being bad, especially on purpose.

Joyce climbs on top of you in one swift motion. Easily pinning your wrists down to the bed with her own hands, her knees on either side of your body as she looks straight down at you firmly, making you stop trying to wriggle out her grasp. “Uh uh. None of that.” Joyce shakes her head seriously, and her tone really starts bringing your subby side out, making you shrink a little into the bed. “Now you don’t get to cum.”

Joyce had been teasing you down there for a while, just about edging you. But now her hand wasn’t cupping your cunt only shielded by your, now wet, underwear. She was hovering above you. Not even sitting on you!

Feeling needy without any of her touch down there, you started bucking up your hips. Small muffled moans leaving your mouth with your effort. You tried to give your best puppy eyes to Joyce, up at her. “Please? Need it.” You asked hopefully.

But Joyce shook her head even more this time. “Noooo, naughty girl. You know the rules. You’re a big girl, you decided to be bad all on your own.”

She kept teasing you by not letting you up. And still not placing any pressure on you from herself. She knew you’d like that too. Joyce didn’t give way, and her hands were firm when you tried to buck up at her again. Her brown eyes knowing, as she tilted her head to the side, unimpressed at you.

You really felt needy for her now. You hated when Joyce looked at you that way, it was always the worst part if you were acting up. Even more so than her not letting you cum! You hated that disappointed look in her eyes, when you knew she wasn’t playing around. You didn’t want to be bad anymore, you just wanted to be hers.

Your lower lip began wobbling, the tips of your fingers stretching out to try and stroke Joyce’s hands that were pinning you in place. “I’m sorry. I’m your good girl now.”

“Oh no honey, you’re not getting out of it that easily.”

She’s very good at putting you in your place. She knows all the tips and tricks to get you to behave. And if you don’t, not only will you get punished, but you may not even be allowed to cum during those punishments.

One time you were still being so naughty, testing her, after you guys started a session specifically as a punishment for last time’s behaviour, Joyce stopped without letting you cum at all. And you were staying at hers for the day, so there was no way she was going to let you touch yourself either. That would completely ruin the purpose of her punishment.

Hours after you two had stopped, you’d finally apologised enough and promised enough that you would be good, and you wouldn’t act up like that during a punishment again. You came to Joyce while she was just spritzing some extra perfume in the bathroom, shuffling up to her to apologise, tears in your eyes that Joyce lovingly wiped away when she knew you were truly sorry. So Joyce got on her knees in that bathroom, and you had to grip onto the counter so your legs didn’t give out on you as Joyce finally let you cum on her mouth for being a good girl.

You never finish a session where she still has a naughty girl on her hands. Well, maybe only if you decide to tease her right after you two had finished. Pinching her waist, or getting a little bit of extra time down there, even after Joyce has already pulled you away from her cunt once. But if you come up smiling, so pleased with yourself, and you settle down after her initial warning, she’ll only smile back with a teasing “Naughty girl.” You still crawling back up into her arms for post sex cuddles after.

Whether you’ve had a very intense session if you were being very bad, or an extremely loving and fun filled easy going one, Joyce always gives you tonnnnnnes of cuddles and snuggles afterwards! She always has to snuggle with you as part of her aftercare. Not only does she want to make sure you’re okay, and feel good, and are coming down alright, but also Joyce loves snuggling with you too! Unless something happens (like her kids come home early) Joyce would probably want to spend an hour with you cuddling on the surface of wherever you two just boned. And then an extra two hours hanging out with you too, maybe watching a film, or listening to music together or something. Even if you aren’t having sex, the little time you guys have alone, to cuddle, and be close, or fool around a little, to be yourselves, and for Joyce to be able to take care of you, she’s taking it.

[msmarycrawley]

Fictober Day 12

Prompt: “You’re making my head hurt.”

Fandom: Stranger Things

Pairing: Joyce Byers/Jim Hopper

Rating: General

Summary: Joyce tends to Hopper on the way home from Russia.

Ao3

Joyce pressed a cool washcloth over Hopper’s forehead. He winced and scrunched his face up. “Ouch.” “You big baby,” she said lovingly, lightly scratching his shaved head. He'd shrunk so much since she saw him last, but he still looked huge all sprawled out across the airplane seat.

Hopper rubbed his face with his hand. “You’re making my head hurt.”

“No I’m not. Hush. Let me look at you.” She turned his head towards her gently and examined his wounds.

He looked back at her, and she blushed from the heat of his stare.

"Do you feel better?"

"Much better."

[wayward-dreamer]

Keep The Date

Pairing: Joyce x Hopper

Word count: 565

Summary: Hopper finds a way to keep his date with Joyce at Enzo’s.

Warnings: Like 2% angst, 98% fluff.

A/N: Wrote this after the season 4 finale, and I’ve been going back and forth about posting it, but I finally decided to. Happy reading! 

Hopper frowned as he walked across the street, his hand in Joyce’s as they patrolled the area. Everyone in town was doing the same in the past week, assessing the damage that occurred because of the earthquake, allowing the upside down to filter into Hawkins. He slowly dropped her hand as they approached the exterior of Enzo’s, the sign above the building torn in half, and hanging precariously. He shoved the front door a few times, jammed by the lack of it being used over the past few days. With one last push, the door gave way, and they were finally able to see the interior.

It was worse than either of them expected.

He stepped through the threshold, taking in the broken windows, shattered bottles across the surface of the bar, splintered tables and chairs, his heavy boots crunching against the rubble that had fallen from the ceiling of the restaurant. He let out a deep exhale as he turned back to Joyce, her face forlorn, almost reflecting regret as she glanced at him.

It was going to be hard to keep that date now.

He walked through, lightly kicking pieces of plaster away as he made his way through the room, stopping in the middle and looking back at the front door. A nostalgic, melancholic smile pulled at one side of his mouth, his mind taking him back to a year prior when he sat in this very restaurant.

“You know…” his fingers lightly slid over the top of the chair at the table, one of the only ones still intact, his eyes flicking up to meet Joyce’s, “I sat right here, waiting for you to come through that door.”

She sighed heavily, her lips pursing as she looked around the room. Seeing it this way was making her feel differently about the past. “I really should’ve.”

He shook his head, eying the dark wood of the chair as he huffed a small laugh. The fact that that very chair and table were still in one piece felt strange; surreal. He was still in one piece too, no matter how much they tried to break him, he was still whole. He was still here, and it was her that kept him going, kept him surviving.

“Well, so long as we’re here…” he muttered, slowly moving towards Joyce and offering her his hand, a small smirk on his face. He had promised her a date, and he was at least going to try to give her some semblance of one.

She lifted an eyebrow, glancing around the room before she turned back to him. “Here? Hop, it’s a mess.”

“Shouldn’t stop us,” he stated, smiling softly.

Joyce’s smile grew as her petite hand slipped into his much larger one, a content exhale leaving her as his arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her close. He held their clasped hands against his chest, as she laid her head against him, his chin resting on top as she tucked in under his neck. Their feet shifted against the floor, some gentle tune in either of their imaginations helping them find a slow rhythm. Her eyes fluttered closed as she basked in the moment, Hopper doing the same as he pressed a soft kiss to her hair.

Enzo’s may have looked completely different now compared to the past, but they still managed to keep their date.

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[withacapitalp]

“Okay, so now we add the water, right?”

“No! No water!” Steve practically shouted, grabbing the pot and holding it high above his head so Joyce couldn’t reach it, “Joyce, we’ve talked about this,”

She rolled her eyes, putting the measuring cup on the counter and sighing. Robin and the kids giggled from their spot in the living room, the parade turned down low so they could hear every bit of the clownery going on in the kitchen. Steve turned the evil eye on them and put one hand on his hip. 

“And, peanut gallery, if you want to have food, you’ll want to keep your snark at bay. Unless you want to be the ones in here helping me make an entire Thanksgiving meal for fourteen.”

“Always the mom,” Max sighed, patting her stomach, “I’ll have you know if we’re not eating by five o’clock sharp, Nugget here will be making Lucas drive us to McDonalds,” 

Steve waved her off and turned back to the stove, placing down the pot and stirring his perfectly prepared potatoes. It felt kind of weird to keep thinking of them as kids now that they were all graduating from college. But, to Steve, they would always be kids. No matter how tall, how old, how many nuggets of their own they had, those seven little kids would always be the stupid pre-teens that had given him his life. 

“Now, it’s important to remember to continue to whisk, or else they’ll get clumpy.” Steve instructed in a no nonsense tone. He had eaten enough of her radioactive cooking to know where she would start to lose sight of the final product. 

“Are you torturing my wife?” Hopper asked as he entered into the fray, grabbing another round of beers for him and the boys. Steve could just catch the sound of Jonathan and Wayne yelling at the TV in the bedroom upstairs, calling the referee out on some bullshit play. 

“This is the real question, Hop. Is your wife torturing my husband?” A voice came from behind him, soft and buttery. A voice Steve had desperately missed, even though this trip had only been a short few weeks.

Steve hummed, leaning back into Eddie’s arms and letting his eyes slip shut for a second. Eddie had only been in Chicago for three weeks to re-record something for his newest album, but to Steve it was always too long.  Warm pale arms littered with scars came up around him, fingers playing with the silver chain around his neck. No government would ever recognize it, they couldn’t really tell the world, but the ring on that chain was everything to Steve, just like the man who had given it to him. 

“She is,” Steve fake-whispered into Eddie’s ear, “She’s trying to poison us all with liquid potatoes,”

“Lucky for us, we have you,” Eddie whispered back, pressing a kiss to Steve’s cheek from behind, “God bless you, Mr. Potato Man.”

Steve snickered, turning around so he could fully face his partner. Eddie’s hair was shorter now than it was when they were young and stupid, and he was starting to get crows feet in the corner of his eyes.

He was more beautiful every time Steve saw him. 

“Quick! Eddie distract him while I put water in the potatoes!” Joyce cried. Eddie immediately went along with it, yanking Steve away from the stove and ignoring his protests as she began to experiment. Steve conceded defeat the second the paprika was pulled out of the cupboard. Some things would just never change. 

Eddie dragged him into the hallway, hiding them ever so slightly from the rest. 

“Glad to be home,” He murmured, hugging Steve close and resting their foreheads together. 

Home. The home Eddie had bought him all those years ago. The carpet in the living room was a soft cream now instead of gaudy orange, and there were boxes filled with mums in each window. The mold problem had been fully eradicated, but the screen door still swung open and shut in the wind. 

Steve didn’t mind it anymore.  It was just a part of the charm of their house. 

Their house. Even now it made his heart fill to the bursting to think of it. Their house.  

But now that Eddie was back, it was really home. 

[blaqcats-fics]

The Deepest Sighs, the Frankist Shadows

STWG DRABBLE

prompt: rehab warnings: billy hargrove as an asshole, rehab, use of homophobic slur towards Steve note: this is an altered excerpt from a wip in progress

“You shouldn’t smoke.”

Eddie Munson scoffed, flicking his cigarette. He watched as the smoke moved through the air, fading away. He glanced at the boy standing next to him, the one who made the comment.

“It’s none of your damn business what I do,” Eddie grunted, taking another long drag and making the intent to blow the smoke towards the stranger’s direction, but the air made the smoke drift off away from the boy’s face.

“You’re right,” the boy said, shrugging. “It’s not my business.”

Eddie spared him a long glance, taking him in. The stranger was attractive, but that was all Eddie was willing to give him. The boy already put himself on Eddie’s shit list by being rude and not minding his business. That didn’t mean Eddie couldn’t take a moment to admire him, however. The boy, whoever he was, had a head of wavy, curly brown hair with strands of pink highlighting the brown. He had a nose piercing that seemed to be hidden away from his onslaught of freckles and moles. He dressed like a grandpa, though, which was weird — a yellow sweater, a white blouse underneath, and a pair of khakis with the world’s ugliest shoes.

“Are you here for the group too?”

Eddie glanced at him, narrowing his eyes as he dropped his cigarette to the ground, using his boot to ground it out. He glanced at his watch, sighing. He hoped that this dude wasn’t one of the counselors. The boy looked too young to be, but Eddie could never be too sure. A lot of people looked younger than they were these days, or older than they are.

“What’s it to you?” Eddie asked. He pushed his hands into the coat of his leather jacket, glancing away from the boy. He’d rather be curled up in his trailer getting high, maybe work on some songs for his band, then maybe pass out for a while.

“I’m Steve,” the boy introduced, holding his hand out.

Eddie stared at his hand but made no attempt to shake it. “Sure,” he said.

Steve dropped his head, laughing awkwardly. “Okay, well, see you in there, man.” He gave Eddie a small smile, before walking past him and disappearing into the building, leaving Eddie alone with his thoughts once more.

Eddie glanced down at the butt of the cigarette he stumped out, letting out a low groan. He wished that he had smoked a joint instead of a lousy piece of tobacco he had stolen from Wayne’s pack. Maybe he should have downed a beer before he came, that could have helped his edge, but that was why he was here. He had unhealthy coping mechanisms and had been forcefully made to attend these group therapy sessions by both his Uncle Wayne and the lovely judicial system of Hawkins, Indiana. He would have bailed, but unfortunately, Eddie needed therapy both because it was court-ordered and because he needed extra credits to finally graduate from high school. He was on his third go-around, and he couldn’t afford to keep wasting his days in a school full of assholes.

He pushed himself off the brick wall, moving his hands out of his pocket and rubbing his face, blinking away any tiredness. He could do this. He could smile, laugh, and pretend everything was okay. He had to do this for himself and for Uncle Wayne. He had promised his uncle after all, and Eddie had a good motive outside of his uncle.

Eddie walked to the double door, pushed it open, and stepped inside the Youth Center. The heat of the building caused a small sweat to break out on his brow, but it was to be expected from the sudden change in temperature. It was mid-winter outside, and inside it was like summer all over again. Looking around, Eddie was surprised to see how well-kept it was, but it was a short-lived feeling. He wouldn’t be here if it hadn’t been for Al.

Al was Eddie’s father, a piece of shit scumbag who had waltzed back into town and broken Eddie’s world apart for a third time. Now, Rory was sitting in a cell somewhere, rotting, and Eddie couldn’t have been happier about it. Eddie hated the man to his core and every time he thought of his father, his blood boiled. Rory Munson was the last person that Eddie needed to think of.

Taking a deep breath, Eddie walked into the common room, trying his best to not draw attention to himself — which was a difficult thing to do when he looked the way he did. The common room was warmer than Eddie was expecting for a place where shrinks worked. The room was painted in a soft green color, with couches and chairs spread around the room. There were bookshelves, which Eddie took note to look at. Maybe they’d have a copy of the Hobbit or maybe something from Lovecraft. Moving past inspecting the interior, Eddie found himself looking over the other kids that were already there. Steve was sitting in the far back of the room, chatting with a blonde girl who looked like she hadn’t slept in a week. Across from them, on the other side of the room was a face that Eddie didn’t expect to see, and it wasn’t a warm feeling.

“Billy,” Eddie gritted out, causing the blond to look his way, sneering back at him. They both went to the same high school, and it was common knowledge to anyone who knew either of them, was a simple fact that they hated each other. Billy was everything Eddie despised.

“Wish I could say it’s a surprise seeing you here, freak,” Billy smirked, standing from where he sat. “Though, I think you forgot to take the turn to the prison in Greensville.”

Eddie narrowed his eyes, “Laugh it up, Hargrove. Bet you wish that’s where your daddy was.” He could feel everyone’s stare and did what he could to avoid it. He wished Billy hadn’t been here. It would have made sinking into the shadows easier, but Eddie never said he had an easy life.

Billy, however, noticed Steve and the girl’s gaze. “The fuck you looking at, fag?” he snapped, sneering towards Steve. Eddie didn’t miss how Steve flinched before a cloud of grief briefly crossed his face. He watched as the girl grabbed his shoulder, squeezing it, but with an angry expression, she didn’t say anything.

“Shut the fuck, Hargrove. You’re one to talk,” Eddie snapped before he could stop himself. “I heard Tommy H gets you off in the locker room on Thursdays.”

Eddie could feel Steve’s surprised glance, but he ignored him, focusing on Billy’s now red face. “The fuck did you just say, Munson? You have a death wish?” he growled, walking towards him, his lip curled up into a snarl.

“You heard what I said,” Eddie snapped. “Takes one to know one, right?”

“I’m going to fuc—,” Billy’s voice was cut short when the door opened and an older woman walked through the door, her voice filling the room, and Eddie felt a wave of relief wash over him. He was always more bark than bite, and he knew arguing with Billy would bite him in the ass later on.

“Good morning!” the woman spoke, her voice filling the room. She had shoulder-length brown hair with strands of gray, reflecting her age. She had a clipboard tucked under her arm, and she had a kind smile. Eddie wondered if she was purposely ignoring the tension lingering in the air. “We’re waiting for just a few more people, and when they get here we can get started! Sit where you feel comfortable!”

Billy glared at Eddie before turning away and slumping in the seat he had been in previously. Eddie breathed, moving to sit on the window ledge, letting his head rest against the cool glass. He didn’t care if he indirectly outed himself. He could care less about people knowing he liked fucking other guys. Hawkins was a small town, so it wasn’t like he was actively fucking anyone in town because most people weren’t into that, but people made it a problem.

Not that Eddie cared. He had been pushed into walls, punched in the face, called a queer, anything a person could think of. He was used to it, even if he wished he wasn’t. Life was life, and Eddie had little control over how people viewed him. Billy had made himself a problem in Eddie’s life. It was a realization that Eddie had when he first moved to Hawkins years ago. Many people made Eddie’s life difficult, way more than Billy did. Jason Carver was another prime example, and he was just glad Jason was an ‘angel’ that he didn’t have to come to group therapy.

Fuck him, honestly.

Eddie had enough problems and didn’t need anymore, but he could easily tell that Steve would quickly become one. Eddie had a type, and Steve was that type, or at least close to his type. Actually, maybe Steve was far from his type. He seemed like one of those boys you would take home to your parents. Steve seemed like parents liked him. Eddie had always gone for quick and easy guys — one’s that he could easily forget the name of. Call Eddie a horrible person, but life had made it adjacently clear that happiness wasn’t in his cards. There was also the tiny fact that Billy was an idiot, and there was no way Steve was gay. Sure, the boy had pink highlights in his hair, but there was something that screamed ‘straight’ and ‘boy next door’ about him.

Eddie couldn’t give up his hopes over a pretty face, especially in Hawkins. He did want to keep whatever little reputation he had. Falling in love with a straight boy and being publicly humiliated was not in his cards. Not that his being publicly humiliated hadn't happened yet. He was in rehab (though the Judge labeled it therapy) for a reason.

The door that led into the room opened and closed, causing noise to fill the awkward silence lingering through the room. The last few people came into the room, and Eddie took a moment to examine the ‘newbies.’ The first person was a boy. He was tall and thin, but there was something about him that made Eddie feel uneasy. Maybe it was because the boy looked too clean and too put together. Next to him was a younger girl with buzzed hair and a blank stare. He noticed that she had ink on her wrist, but couldn’t make out whether it was a tattoo or a sharpie job. The two of them sat near the entrance, staying close together. It made Eddie wonder if they were siblings. The two barely looked anything like each other, but Eddie didn’t care enough to know if they were actually siblings or not. Walking past them was another girl, around Eddie’s age. She looked familiar, but Eddie couldn’t put a finger on who she was. She had shoulder-length hair that was light brown, and she had freckles adorning her face. She was wearing brown khakis and a tucked-in white blouse with a tie. Eddie knew immediately that she was a lesbian, and that was on functioning gaydars.

She sat next to Steve, and Eddie wondered how the two knew each other, but he didn’t have much time to wonder why she was familiar or her relationship with Steve.

“Good, it seems that everyone is here!” the older woman beamed, taking her clipboard from under her arms and glancing over it before nodding. “I’m Mrs. Byers, but feel free to call me Joyce. I want you all to feel comfortable during our time together for the next several weeks. I am aware that most of you aren’t here by choice, and I know that it will take a moment to adjust, but I hope that we can all work together and be respectful to everyone.”

Yeah. This was going to be just great.

[jancys-blue-bayou]

Breakfast Boy (Jancy drabble)

A/N: Working on a longer fic currently, but here’s a little spontaneous drabble I just wrote now in one go inspired by the eternal classic of Jonathan matching the Byers kitchen:

“It’s cute that you match,” she informs Jonathan with a smile as she saunters into his kitchen in the morning after a wonderful night spent together.

His mom sitting them down to talk about her spending the night had been awkward but a blessing since she turned out to be okay with it, which made blissful mornings like these possible.

“What?” He turns around from his place at the stove to give her a bemused look.

She leans up and gives him a kiss.

“The sweater to your kitchen,” she explains, caressing the fabric on the arm of his nice mustard yellow sweater and pointedly looking around at the kitchen decorated in yellow tones.

“Oh,” he looks around too and chuckles. “I never noticed that.”

“It’s a good color on you,” she tells him and kisses him again. “And it makes you look like you belong in the kitchen,” she grins.

“Hey, what’s this, some kind of reverse sexism?” He jokes, mock offended.

She takes a seat at the table.

“I’m just saying, my Breakfast Boy is in his element,” she smiles as he sets a plate of scrambled eggs, bacon and toast down in front of her and kisses her again.

“You guys are gross,” Will groans from the doorway.

“They’re sweet,” Mrs. Byers comes up behind Will and corrects him with a smile before they can.

“Just in time guys,” Jonathan blushes and puts down three more plates at the table and sits himself down next to her.

She smiles at Jonathan and plays a little footsie with him under the table. Mornings like these, with her Breakfast Boy and his family, she’ll never tire of.

---

Also on Ao3 and FFNet.

[dxncingwithastrxnger]

make this place your home (Joyce & El)

A/N: This isn't much, just a little post season 4 drabble of El calling Joyce mom for the first time!!! Hope you enjoy 💜

Pairings: Small mention of Mileven and Jopper

Summary: Joyce checks in on El as they're all getting ready to leave the cabin, and she's met with a warm surprise.

Tags: Just fluff, nothing else!!

Word Count: 801

Not beta'd, all mistakes are my own.

They were back at the cabin now, gathering their things and checking for anything within the half cleaned up cabin that could be of any use to them once they got into town. The first priority of many of them was to check on parents and family, while the rest would go to the hospital and school to pickup Lucas, Robin, Dustin, and Steve. Next, they would start gathering people up and getting them to the safest places possible, or even convincing them to leave town, whichever worked out best. A fight was coming, and soon, and they need everyone to be prepared for it.

Joyce was going through the place and taking a moment to talk to everyone individually, make sure everyone was at the very least in the right mindset. It was a silly thing, actually. Asking if they were okay. None of them were okay. None of this was okay. But that wasn't what she meant when she asked it each time and they all know that as well. "Are you okay?" as in, "Do you need to sit a moment? Do you need a hug? Do you need a shoulder to cry on right now? Is there something you need to talk about?"

The answer to most of that for everyone would be yes, but the difference between yes, right now and yes, but later is key. She'd sat for a long moment with Jonathan and Will, something needed not just for her two sons but also for herself. She hugged Nancy and she leaned on Hopper. Now to find Mike and El again. She was going to speak to them earlier, but last she saw them, they were outside by the side of the cabin, holding each other and speaking quietly. Joyce hadn't wanted to interrupt their private moment, especially when it seemed like moments like that would be few and far between for all of them going forward.

She peeked her head into one of the empty bedrooms and found El there. She was standing in the middle of the room, a dirty glass Coke bottle in her hand, and she was staring blankly at the wall, like she was lost in her thoughts. Joyce walked into the room with quiet steps and approached her, gently placing her hand on the young girl's shoulder.

"Hey," She said softly as El startled. "It's just me."

"Sorry." El said with a sigh, pulling her arms up and around her torso, as if to hug herself. She looked on the verge of tears but she was trying to hide it, giving Joyce a wobbly smile that faltered seconds after it showed up.

"Oh, c'mere, sweetheart." Joyce tells her softly before tugging El into her arms and holding her tight, her heart reaching out for the girl she's come to love as her own daughter.

El immediately wrapped her arms around Joyce and gripped the back of her shirt with her free hand, her face burying into Joyce's shoulder as she started crying. Joyce held her tight and rubbed her back soothingly, shedding a few tears herself as El sobbed against her. They stood there like that for a few minutes, El letting it all out as Joyce whispered quiet reassurances and held her through it.

After awhile, she pulled back slightly, looking up at Joyce, hiccuping slightly. "I'm s-sorry about that." El said.

Joyce shook her head. "There's no need to apologize, honey. There's nothing wrong with needing to let things out sometimes, especially with everything that you've been through. Okay? There's nothing wrong with crying." She told her.

El nodded and looked down for a moment, turning the bottle over in her hands before speaking. "I would...like to keep this. If that is okay." She spoke softly, looking up at Joyce hopefully.

Joyce wasn't really sure what the importance of the bottle was, but it's not like she was going to say no. "Yeah, of course. Of course you can keep it." Joyce nodded and El smiled, a real one this time, if small, and hugged Joyce again.

"Thanks, mom." El said. And with that, she pulled away and walked past Joyce, leaving the room and leaving Joyce just standing there, shocked.

Warmth filled her entire body and a beaming smile spread across her face, her hand coming up to land right over her heart. Tears sprang to her eyes and she shook her head, chuckling to herself. Then, she left the room as well and went to find Mike. But the smile stayed on her face, the moment replaying in her head as she ventured further into the cabin.

That was the first time El had ever called her mom.