#Two wheeler keychain

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[bitchybylershipper]

MY MOST SPECIALEST INTERESTS!!!!!!!!!!!

[munsonkitten]

It starts small.

Steve buys Eddie a handful of cassettes after the whole Upside Down business. Drops them unceremoniously in Eddie’s lap while Eddie’s laid up in the hospital. Eddie pulls them all out of the plastic bag and lays them out in his lap while Steve stands a few feet away, arms crossed protectively over his torn up middle.

“I got things on your vest,” Steve says as Eddie takes in the titles. “I figured everything in your room’s probably gone now, but I still have your vest, and I’ll — I’ll give it back. When you get out of here. It’s safe in my room. But, just — yeah, the tapes are things you have on it.”

Dio’s The Last in Line, Motorhead’s Ace of Spades, Metallica’s Ride the Lightning, Judas Priest’s Screaming for Vengeance, and WASP’s self-titled album.

“I almost bought you more, but I wasn’t sure what else, and I don’t know much about your music, so I just got those. I was going to bring you my Walkman, but I couldn’t find it,” Steve says. “I think one of the kids borrowed it and never gave it back, actually.”

Eddie still hasn’t said anything yet. He’s still taking in the gift in his lap, can’t even comprehend that Steve wanted to give him more.

“Uh,” Eddie says, trying to get his brain working again. “Yeah. Man. Fuck, dude. Thanks. Seriously. Don’t worry about the Walkman, really. This is nice, Harrington.”

“Yeah, no problem, Munson,” Steve says softly. He goes and sits in one of the chairs in Eddie’s hospital room, and stays there until the kids come running from Max’s overcrowded room to ask for a ride home.

Eddie lays there with his tapes spread out over his lap, and he finds himself smiling down at them. He doesn’t even have anything to listen to them on, but he thinks it might be the most thoughtful gift he’s ever gotten from anyone other than Wayne.

It’s nice, he thinks, that he might be becoming friends with Steve Harrington. It’s nice, he thinks, that even when they’re no longer fighting for their lives, Steve might want to stick around.

He didn’t expect that.

Eddie’s in the hospital for two weeks, and Steve stops by almost every day. He sits for a while, sometimes they talk, sometimes they don’t. Sometimes Eddie wakes up and sees Steve sleeping in one of the uncomfortable hospital chairs. He doesn’t wake him, just smiles to himself because Steve’s tired, but he doesn’t want Eddie to be alone.

It’s been a while since Eddie’s had a friend the same age as him. Jeff and Grant are both two years younger than him, Gareth is four years, and Henderson, Wheeler, and Sinclair are all five or six years younger. He has friends, but Steve feels different, just a few months younger but already graduated. In a way, it makes Eddie feel younger, still being in high school and all.

He doesn’t really think that should matter, but it kind of does. All his younger friends look up to him, he’s always the one making plans and making sure everyone sticks to them, he’s the one in charge of it all — the older one. But when Steve’s around — Steve, with his real job, and high school diploma, and his nice car, and the brood of children he chases after, Steve, who’s an adult in all the ways Eddie himself feels like he’s not — Eddie feels like he can sit back and let someone else do all of that.

When Steve’s around, it feels like he has someone to care for him and look out for him the way he’s done for the others.

It starts to ease everything he’s carried for so long.

* * *

The next time Steve buys something for Eddie, it’s even smaller.

In fact, it’s so small that Eddie doesn’t even notice it at first because Steve was actually really sneaky about it. Eddie would almost find it cute, if he were allowed to think about Steve that way. He’s not, to be clear. It goes against his Munson Doctrine to have crushes on the jocks, rich kids, and straight boys, of which Steve is all three, but if he wasn’t, then yeah, Eddie would find it cute that Steve is sneaking him tiny gifts when he isn’t looking.

There’s a keychain on his van keys that he certainly didn’t get for himself. He notices it one day during a get together at Harrington’s house. Eddie just got out of the hospital a few days ago, and everyone insisted on throwing a party. Now kids are running around Steve’s backyard, yelling and hollering and trying not to fall in the freezing cold pool. It’s still too early in the spring to swim.

Even Max, barely out of the hospital herself, is being wheeled around in her wheelchair by nothing more than El’s mind powers.

It’s kind of fucking insane, to be honest.

But Eddie needs to go out to his car to get his pain meds because he’s really starting to feel the length of the day in his aching joints and healing wounds, so he grabs his keys off Steve’s counter where he left them, and that’s when he sees it.

A tiny metal bat dangling from his keys.

He knows it was Steve because Steve was the only one in the house when he got here and set his stuff down in the kitchen, and no one else has gone inside since Eddie found his way to the backyard, so of course it was Steve.

Eddie doesn’t mention it, just smiles to himself and runs his fingers over the pointed wings.

He sees Steve looking at him when he comes back into the kitchen. Eddie raises his hand and shakes his pill bottle at him, and without another word, Steve goes to the cupboard to get a glass that he fills with water.

Eddie sets his keys back down on the kitchen counter as Steve slides the glass of water over to him. Steve nods at the keys, and Eddie grins at him.

“Thank you,” Eddie says.

“I have a matching one,” Steve says, turning back toward the sink to look out the window above it. “Just, you know, because…”

He gestures at his torso, and then over at Eddie, and Eddie nods. He gets it.

It makes him feel a little bit closer to Steve. Even if Eddie isn’t allowed to crush on him, he’s happy to have someone who gets him. Who understands what he went through, and feels similar pain.

It’s like Steve’s saying You’re with me now, we’re connected, and you’re not getting rid of me.

Read on AO3

[sanguineterrain]

about a boy('s uncle) - e.m.

Summary: Eddie gives you a key. You meet Wayne by accident.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x gn!reader

Word count: 2.1k

Warnings/tags: reader is a worrier! but all fluff <3 (stan wayne!)

this fic is part of my 'about a boy' series - check it out!

divider by firefly-graphics

Eddie's given you a key. 

It's part of your keychain. It jingles like the rest of your keys, only he's colored the top with black paint so you can tell it apart from the others. 

But you know you'll be able to tell it apart. You stare at it so often, it's impossible not to. 

For your van?

Guess again. 

Wayne's? 

Nope.

Steve's car?

Harrington wouldn't let me touch his baby if the world was ending, but thank you for the confidence, sweet thing. 

Then you'd smiled and Eddie had smiled back because he knows what you look like when you're about to tell a joke. You tell it and Eddie laughs and opens his chest so you'll have proof he really thinks you're funny. You're all about the proof. 

Key to your heart?

Eddie had kissed the top of your head for that one.

Silly, you've already got that!

The trailer. The key unlocks the trailer. 

You trust me with it?

'Course I do. 

And it's not like there's any reason not to trust you. It's just. Well. You don't quite understand the point of giving you a key. 

So you can come over. 

He'd said it like it's your home. Like you are allowed to make a home out of Eddie Munson. 

You stand on the porch step now. Hellfire had run late today, so Eddie had called from the Wheeler's to let you know. He'd started the call with Hello, sweet thing, I missed you. How are you feeling? And you'd wanted to say something like, I wait to burst into flames when I am with you but it never happens.

But you don't want to make Eddie rescind his offer of being a home for you, so you'd simply said, I am well. How are you?

And that's when he'd suggested it. Come over.

If he was any other boy (and that's the whole point, isn't it? Eddie's not any other boy), you'd immediately shut down the idea. No, I will not come over so you can touch the folds of skin where my heart lies and roll over when you are done.

But Eddie misses you, not your folds of skin. He opens his chest to you, not the other way around. 

So you're here, on his front porch. 

You've been here for about five minutes. Every time you go to unlock the front door, you stop and wait for Eddie to pull around the corner, so you can pretend you've arrived at the same time. 

You picture the key breaking when you turn it. Or disintegrating into ash. Or a storm brewing and the key electrocuting you. 

You stare at the lock, at the bits of chipped white paint around the handle. You try to look through the screen door net but it's too dark to, until it's not, because the door opens. 

You freeze. Wayne Munson stares back at you. His brow pinches, like Eddie's does when he fixes a broken guitar string or sticks a bandaid on your skinned knee. 

"Well," he says, after sizing you up for centuries. "Ain't you gonna come in?" 

"I don't want to intrude," you reply. 

Wayne grunts. "You're not some stray. You're my son's person. Come in."

You go in. 

The trailer is not new. The layout hasn't been remodeled just because you and Wayne are both in the living room, existing in the same universe. 

"You want some hot chocolate? Made a pot of it for Eddie. It's the good stuff, with milk, not just water."

How strange it is to watch uncle and son take care of people in the same way. How strange it is for you to be 'people.'

"Okay," you say. "Thank you."

Wayne pours two servings. One is in the Garfield mug Eddie delights in using when you come over. The other is in a mug with a bear holding a chain of hearts with the words Everyone Needs A Little Tender Loving Bear around it. 

Wayne gives you the Garfield mug. 

"Please," he says, and gestures to the living room. 

You slink over to the couch, and sit where Eddie kisses you while you listen to his heartbeat and remember you're both alive. 

You take a sip of the hot chocolate. Wayne makes it less sweet than Eddie does. You like it all the same. 

"I don't pour in five pounds of sugar," Wayne says. "But hopefully it ain't garbage."

"It's good. Thank you, Mr. Munson."

He sets the mug down on the little table next to the armchair. You keep yours in your lap. 

"So," he begins. "We finally meet."

Your muscles bunch up. You should've run when you had the chance. 

"Easy now," Wayne says. "I ain't mad at either of you for sneaking around."

"It wasn't out of disrespect, Mr. Munson."

Wayne cracks a smile at the very end of his mouth. 

"No, I didn't think so. I know meeting the parent is scary. You seem like good people, and you surely make Eddie happy."

"He makes me happy too," you say, because Eddie deserves far more credit for brewed happiness than you do.

"Mm. How'd you meet, if you don't mind me asking?"

You know what he's fishing for. Did you crawl through Hell together? Do you know enough to take care of him?

"We met through a friend," you say. "She and Eddie grew close during the… earthquakes."

Wayne nods. "And were you part of the earthquakes?"

"No, Mr. Munson. But I know enough. Enough to understand."

"Alright," he says. "Call me Wayne."

You sip your hot chocolate. Wayne watches you. 

You probably know more about him than he does you. You've asked Eddie not to share about you because you don't like people talking about you when you're not there. Eddie had promised not to, but he'd also told you he wouldn't say bad things. 

It had sounded like a trap, but you hadn't told Eddie that because he would've gotten quiet and gone to make you a strawberry jam sandwich as proof that he really doesn’t set traps (and you're all about the proof, aren't you?) 

But you try so hard to sheath your claws and speak to both of you kindly. To be deserving of what he is to you. You shouldn't require proof of intention every time, even though the urge boils your brain into soup. Eddie shouldn't have to open his chest just so you can see his ribs shake with laughter. 

Maybe you're not meant to be what he is to you. But, double-maybe, that doesn’t have to be a bad thing. 

You're good, after all. You wouldn't be sitting across from Wayne Munson if you weren't. You have the feeling that he has a keen sense of good and bad. 

"I care about him," you say suddenly. "More than I can fathom."

Wayne's eyes crinkle at the corners. Eddie's do the same thing. You like making them appear. 

"I believe you."

You wonder if you ought to use a stronger word than care. 

Stronger words frighten you. You've dared to say them in your head only once or twice, and afterwards, you'd checked to make sure Eddie hadn't heard you. 

I lo— and the rest is choked off. 

"Eddie told me he made you a key," Wayne says. 

"Yes. Sorry."

Wayne tilts his head. "What on earth are you sorry for?" 

Sorry for barging in. Sorry for thinking this could be my home too. 

You have plenty of reasons. 

"I don't mean to intrude."

"I invited you in, didn't I? Trust me, kid, if I didn't want to invite you in, I wouldn't have. There's plenty of people that try to get a piece of my son. Chief Hopper knows me well." 

Your eyes go wide. "I don't—"

"Mean Eddie harm," Wayne finishes, eyes gentle. "I know. He gave you a key for a reason.”

The key feels a little lighter in your pocket. 

"We talked about moving,” he says.

Your hands tighten around the mug. You picture Eddie moving away. Your heart races like you're caught in a bad dream. 

"But," Wayne continues. "I'm glad he's got a reason to stay."

"He deserves better," you say. 

"He's got it." 

Wayne meets your eye. You look down at your mug; you'd never quite learned how to take a compliment. You and Eddie are working on that. 

You sort of want to ask for proof that Eddie has better. That you are the better he's deserving of. It sounds backwards. Maybe you should open up your own chest. 

"Anyway." Wayne waves a hand. "All's this to say, you've got my blessing. And you're welcome anytime, got it?"

You nod slowly and feel for the key in your pocket. It doesn’t disintegrate. 

Wayne rises, knees creaking. 

"Refill?" he asks. 

"No, thank you."

He goes into the kitchen and pours himself another cup. 

"I've gotta go to my shift soon, but help yourself," Wayne says. “Eddie should be home… ah, there he is.”

You strain to hear Eddie's van rattling down the road, engine going put-put-put. 

You stand on instinct. Then you pause and glance at Wayne. He smiles a full smile, and it feels like you've witnessed a miracle. 

"Go 'head," he says, nodding at the door. "Say hi to your boy. It was nice to meet you."

"It was nice to meet you too, M—uh, Wayne. Thank you for the hot chocolate." 

You forget to put your mug down, so you greet Eddie at the door with your half-drunk lukewarm chocolate. He skip-scampers through the tiny patch of grass in front of the trailer and up the steps, a bright grin already on his face. 

"Well, hello there, sweet thing. You’re a sight for sore eyes."

He kisses your cheek. You move the mug aside so Eddie can wrap an arm around your waist and hold your hip. You’re acclimating to being touched. It’s nice, knowing Eddie wants to touch you and not your folds of skin.

"I could get used to this," he says. "Seeing you when I come home? I think you'll spoil me."

He peeks into your mug. You let him take it from your hand and gulp a sip. 

"Eddie," you say at the same time that his brows screw up.

"Oh my God—" Eddie cuts himself off, eyes going wide. "I mean, uh, wow! Baby, you're a chef."

You smile. "I didn't make it, Eds." 

"Then who—oh. Wayne?"

You confirm with a nod. 

Eddie grimaces. "Honey, I'm so sorry. I thought he'd have left by now, honestly. I’m really sorry you had to drink this.”

"It was good,” you say with a laugh. "He helped me with my key."

"There’s a problem with your key?" 

"No, no, it—" You crack your chest open a little, hoping it's enough. "I was feeling a little nervous."

Eddie breaks into a soft smile and pats your hip. 

"That's okay, sweetheart. 'M real proud of you for going in. Wayne looks like a drill sergeant, but he's a huge pushover."

"I heard that." 

You and Eddie scoot away from the door so Wayne can step out. He nods at you, then turns to Eddie. 

"I like this one," he says to Eddie. "’Least somebody appreciates my cooking."

"Y/N's just very polite," Eddie shoots back. "You can hardly call this abomination cooking, Wayne." 

Wayne rolls his eyes. 

"Yeah, yeah. Don’t add too much sugar. Feel free to order in."

"Oh." Eddie raises his brows at you. "Ordering in? You made quite the impression, sweet thing. Did you ooh and ah at his mug collection?" 

"Actually, we spent the whole afternoon looking at your baby pictures," Wayne says. 

Eddie pales. You giggle, unable to help yourself. Wayne winks at you. 

"You both take care. I should be back around midnight." 

You go inside as Wayne leaves, Eddie at your heels.

“So,” he says when you put down your mug. “How was it, really? I’m sorry I wasn’t here for your first meeting.”

“It was good,” you say quietly. “He really loves you, Eddie.”

It feels like there’s something missing. Like you should add something. And I do too. But the words get stuck. 

You hold the key in your hand and make a fist. The ridges dig into your palm.

“Yeah, he’s decided to keep me ‘round,” Eddie says, waving his hand. “But it went okay? I know you were nervous about it. This was not some secret plan to get you to meet. I meant to be here when you met for the first time, trust me.”

You trust him. He doesn’t need to open his chest this time.

“He said I’m welcome anytime,” you say.

Eddie nods fervently. “You are.”

“Really?”

“Wayne doesn’t say things he doesn’t mean, baby. And neither do I.”

Your fist loosens. The key’s not going anywhere.

“Then…” You take a breath. “Then I’ll stop by tomorrow. Okay?”

Eddie’s grin is brilliant. 

“I’d love nothing more, sweet thing.”

Yeah. Maybe you can make a home out of Eddie Munson. 

[paradiseismine]

Finnverse love languages headcanons

Pairing: Finn Wolfhard + Finnverse characters x f!reader

Summary: how Finn and each of his characters would display their affection towards you, according to the 5 love languages theory.

Warnings: mostly fluff, a bit of spice 🎀🌶️ (still sfw)

Love note from Nina: I saw y’all in my poll wanting more Finnverse posts. Here you go, lovelies 💕 more Olivia and Mike content coming soon too!

Finn Wolfhard (himself)

Main love languages: quality time + gifts

Being as busy as he is, Finnie considers time to be an important and scarce resource in his life. That being said, he’ll make time for you as much as he possibly can - even if that means taking an early flight and/or staying up all night. When you two are together, he’s 100% yours: barely touches his phone and doesn’t zone out while you two are talking. He loves to take you to cute coffee shops and museums, as well as tennis or basketball games. He’s not very pda oriented, but will hold your hand at all times while you’re out together.

Since he travels so much because of filming, he can’t always be present for special occasions, and feels very guilty about it. So, whenever he comes back from a work trip, he’ll surely show up at your front door with a box of gifts for you. Small jewelry, clothes, exotic snacks, perfume, you name it, he’ll bring it. Sometimes, he’ll even ask you directly for suggestions on what to buy for you (“Babe, I’m going to France next month. What would you like from there? Anything specific?”). He just loves you so much and wants you to feel safe in your relationship, even if he can’t physically be with you as much as he would like (which is 24/7).

Boris Pavlikovsky

Main love languages: physical touch + gifts

Your favorite foreign is naturally quite touch oriented, that you’ve always known, but isn’t something merely sexual - of course, he loves to pin you down on his bed and make you his, loves to grope your body and leave small purple marks on your neck. But he’ll basically never not be touching you. Expect hand holding at all times when you two are out on the street; an arm around your waist when at a party or any social gathering, little pecks to your cheeks and lips every now and again. He likes to trace your features as you lie down on his lap, as well as massaging your hands or your feet when he has the chance. “You’re so perfect, my love, I like to touch because I feel that you are real and not just my dream, yes?”, he’ll say. Ugh, vou love this boy.

Overall, Boris wants his girl to feel taken care of. He’ll always ask if you need anything, if you’re craving any specific food or ran out of any of the beauty products you usually use. He will always look for those in order to get them for you, and if he can’t provide something that you want, obviously, he’ll steal it. He’s been kicked out of a few convenience stores for shoplifting your favorite snacks and cannot set foot in Sephora anymore, but still gets Theo to help him get things for you. You don’t ask him for all this stuff, but he wants to display his love for you in a way that he thinks will make you feel happy. Sometimes he steals random stuff too, like a book or a keychain, just for you to have it, even if it’s something silly or not something you actually need. It’s adorable, you’re just afraid of him getting in trouble for it.

Mike Wheeler

Main love languages: quality time + physical touch

Being the party leader, Mike loves to plan things ahead of time and make sure everything will happen perfectly - that extends and even intensifies when it comes to dates with you. He always comes up with new ideas for you two to spend some time together: stargazing, looking for shapes in clouds, having a little picnic, reading the same book out loud to each other (taking turns in each paragraph), movie nights, game nights, biking around together. When you’re out of town and away from him, he’ll call you every day and keep talking with you on the phone for hours until his mom yells that she’ll make him pay the bill. He’s always looking for fun things to do with you, and can’t wait to tell you about them. He just loves you, and you’re his girlfriend, so it’s not, like, weird, right?

When you two are in the same room, any stranger that comes by can immediately tell that you’re a couple. His arm is usually around your shoulder/waist, or his thumb is caressing the back of your hand gently, or he’s peppering your forehead in kisses. Out of the Finnverse bunch, Mike is the most touchy-feely, and is always looking for an excuse to touch you. If your parents or his parents aren’t home, you are going to casually give each other a call and come over to whoever’s house is empty for a good couch make out session. At parties, there’s always a point in the evening in which the gang will look around and you two will be nowhere to be found - sneaking into a more private area for some intense hooking up is still frequent, and Mike will savor the moment as much as possible, as long as his pretty girl is comfortable, of course.

Miles Fairchild

Main love languages: acts of service + gifts

When you two started dating and Miles gently kissed your hand saying he’d do anything for you, he meant it more seriously (and literally) than you’d expect. In fact, you need to be careful with what you allow him to do for you - you complained about this one girl at school one day and Miles weirdly asked you if you wanted her to vanish. You picked up on what he meant and quickly denied, stating you only wanted her out of your life, not life itself. The girl ended up transferring schools shortly after, but rumor has it she’s still alive (though maybe traumatized). He’ll do anything for you, no matter what or how.

Not being very good with expressing himself through words, Miles also sees gifts as a non-verbal way of communicating: whether it is to express his love for you, apologize or prepare you for something special (meeting Flora for the first time, for example), he’ll shower you in gifts. Expensive ones, mostly. His family’s wealth is at your full disposal, according to him - he’ll sometimes show you magazines with pictures of houses or cars and ask you which ones you like best, which style of decoration you find the most beautiful. He’s crazy for you and intends to marry you as soon as you both finish your education, so he wants to have everything perfectly picked out to cater for your tastes before he even proposes.

Trevor Spengler

Main love languages: acts of service + quality time

Ever since your first encounter ever, you know that if anything happens, you can call Trevor. If your car’s not starting, if you broke the heel of your favorite shoe, if you need someone to help you put together a new piece of furniture. Nowadays, you won’t even have to ask - Trev will notice something’s in need of repair, for instance, and offer to fix it for you. It’s his pleasure to know he’s being helpful and releasing you from any concerning little things that come up. He wants his girl to be able to relax and focus on what’s important - he’ll take care of the rest, no problem.

When he’s not all tangled up in his ghostbusting duties, my dear, this boy is attaching himself to you by the hip. That includes driving you anywhere you need, taking you to the movies, eating dinner at a cute restaurant, anything you want, really. He’ll educate himself on any special interest of yours in order to spend more time with you, whether it’s by accompanying you to any related event or just talking about it in general. All of his friends know you from the very beginning, and his mom and Phoebe are also used to seeing you hang out at their house in weekdays, ‘cause Trev ain’t waiting for the weekend to spend time with his princess. Lucky usually makes fun of him for being so clingy, but you’re not complaining - his company is your favorite, and he’s always on board to whatever weekend activities you have in mind. He’s a “let’s go?” “let’s go!” kinda guy and you love that about him.

Ziggy Katz

Main love languages: words of affirmation + acts of service

Ziggster is pretty vocal on how he feels about you: he’s always calling you pet names, telling you how beautiful you are, saying that he loves you more than anything else in the world. You two exchange hoodies quite often, and whenever he returns one of yours (because it no longer smells like you), you reach for the front pocket - there’s always going to be a little love note in there, something along the lines of “Don’t forget how much I love you (and also that you’re hot as fuck). Love, Ziggy”. He sometimes draws little stick figures and say that it’s the two of you, usually kissing or playing the same guitar. His morning texting game is also amazing, he usually wishes you a good day, says you’re beautiful inside and out and sends a few tiktok videos that he curated for you to watch as you get ready in the morning. You find it adorable, and he never gets tired of making you feel special.

Ziggy also really supports your dreams, and when you told him you’d like to start creating YouTube content, he was overjoyed at the possibility of helping out his beloved girlfriend. He taught you how to set up lights, which microphone you should get, how to write your titles to make more people click on your videos. The editing is on him, you didn’t even have to ask. He got his followers on HiHat to support your channel as well, so you kick-started with a small faithful audience. Whenever you are out in a nice restaurant or something like that, he’s eager to take your pictures - and he’s actually very good at it! He directs you really well and always gets your best angle (“Not that it’s hard, any photo is going to be perfect when the main focus is this beautiful!”).

[st0rmyskies]

Renault Avantime

Acura Legend

Nissan Skyline

Renault Wind

Ford Ranger Wildtrack

Toyota FourRunner

Renault Twizy

Eagle Malon TSi

Rolls Royce Silver Shadow

Mitsubishi L200 Warriors

Ducati Diavel Dark

Range Roolie

This anon knows that I am secretly a Car Guy™.

Renault Avantime

Look at this thing. Look at this European-ass Ford Flex wannabe bullshit. It gets some points for being a coupe, somehow - Time would rather not drive around with a back door that someone could pop into at will - but even a sick set of tints isn't going to hide his embarrassment at this beaky profile. There's a nose joke in there somewhere. 3/10.

Acura Legend

Impeccable. Looks like someone's first car so that they can haul ass back and forth to college several times a year. Ravio and Legend rip out the back seats to make room for as much product as this shitty 2.5L can manage. The back is also positively PLASTERED in the most amazing sarcastic bumper stickers you can imagine (Bestie Please Let Me Merge, I Fucked Bigfoot, etc.). 10/10

Nissan Skyline

Some part of me hurts to think that Sky would be a Nissan driver, but that's my own personal bias. Does look like something he would take out for weekend track days or the odd drag strip competition and wipe the floor with others. When Groose pulls up he parks entirely too close and gets Sky's rare scowl for even joking about having scratched the paint. 8/10

Renault Wind

Look at this fuckin thing. Wind hates it. Daddy bought it for him as a "Sorry I missed your 16th birthday!" gift. The only saving grace is that it's not the powder blue version; Wind would have turned those keys right over to Aryll SO FAST. It's hardly big enough for him to bring a surfboard to the beach in. The convertible is a nice touch for sunset beach drives though. 5/10.

Ford Ranger Wildtrak

Can you imagine??? Can you imagine?????? Wild wakes up one morning after a night of hard partying to suddenly remember, "I have a car." He digs through his old belongings to produce a nondescript keychain - which he promptly switches out for a big sparkly white puffball - and wanders off into the world to find where he parked THIS truck of Champion's. The ENERGY of seeing tiny Wild with his long hair blowing out the side window as he rolls up in THIS THING is hysterical to me. He will literally never be able to double-park it and just pull it up over the sidewalk to leave it in Time's yard. 11/10.

Toyota FourRunner

If one person - if ONE PERSON - makes a short joke Four is gonna flip the fuck out. He'll need the version with side rails so he can actually get into the damn thing, probably, and the seat adjuster is aftermarket so that he can bring the driver's seat up high enough to see over the steering wheel. Bonus points, though, that he can drive right over all the haters. However, I would argue that this isn't the best city car for someone like Four. Yes it can haul lots of junk in the back for his work needs, but a pickup truck - and something older that he can service himself - would suit him a bit better. 7/10

Renault Twizy

Sure, let's put the anxious kid on the highway between two 18-wheelers in this little Fisher Price death trap. His shoulders wouldn't fit inside this thing, let alone his ass. 0/10

Eagle Malon TSi

Well if this isn't a divorcee car then I don't know what is. Does get some points since it looks like it would run badly forever, which is the solid basis of any good farmer's errand car. I do like to think, though, that Malon would have a bit more self respect than this. 1/10.

Rolls Royce Silver Shadow

I had to include the photo with the text because that's so something Shadow would make himself. Four loudly and vehemently disagrees; he's spent more time on his back beneath that engine bay fixing electrical issues nearly as quickly as Shadow can cause them. Perhaps the aftermarket tablet screen he had installed in the center console at some dubious backyard mechanic was a bad idea. Also I bet that engine is so fucking loud and puts out NO power. 7/10

Mitsubishi L200 Warriors

What the hell and fuck is this? What are all the antennae for, so he can be tuned in to the latest Sephora sale?? And the extra lighting, is that for his Instagram photoshoots??? Ew, do you think Wars is an Instagram influencer???? -0.5/10

Ducati Diavel Dark

Oh, this is canon. 15/10

Range Roolie

I just had a visceral reaction picturing our own Doctor Hyrule, MD, rolling around town in this thing hopelessly lost. He somehow keeps missing all the turns on his GPS. The OnStar dispatcher eventually gets to know him by name. They just talk while he's on his way to work in the morning. 10/10

[banannabethchase]

Take a Chance on Me Chapter 2: Honey, Honey - on AO3

~

The weekend of the wedding arrives, Wheeler reveals his other dad plot to his groomspeople, and Wheeler and Claudio make good use of the hotel bed.

~

There are mentions of LiveJournal in this chapter that may, if you are over the age of 30, make you feel old. Two chapters today since the first one is basically a repeat of a Friday post and I...cannot endure the way AO3 formats multi-chapter fics when you only have one chapter up, so I must fix it.

~

After over a year of planning, the weekend sneaks up on Wheeler like a particularly stressful panther. He’s put in extra hours at the gym to look good in his suit, rehearsed his vows to Lee, to Danny, to Mox, to everyone who’ll listen for more than thirty seconds.

“I just want to make sure it’s good,” he always prefaces with. “I get worried it’ll sound bad.”

Despite the reassurances, the hesitation is still there.

Danny’s the first one from out of town to arrive for the wedding weekend, bright eyed with a few hickeys all over his neck before the events even start.

“Who’d you bang?” Wheeler asks. “Also, hi.”

“Hey, dumbass,” Danny says, shining with excitement. “Just had a quick blowjob in the bathroom while I was waiting for you.”

Wheeler rolls his eyes. “Don’t pretend to be a stereotype. What actually happened?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, marriage boy.” He frowns as he gets a good look at Wheeler, who is manning his computer, his phone, and his dad’s iPad all at one. Danny pushes at his shoulder. “What’s with the face, Wheeler?”

“Waiting for Lee and Kris to answer the facetime,” he says. He holds up the computer, shows it to Danny.

“Is – what’s that?”

“LiveJournal,” Wheeler says. “Like this old blogging platform? I found it on the Way Back Machine.”

“Okay,” Danny says. He’s staring. He already knows something is up.

“Yo yo, Wheely, what’s up?” Lee’s face pops onto the screen.

“Hey, Lee,” Wheeler says. “I found something I want to share with you all. Since, you know, my groomspeople and all.”

“Hey guys!” Kris says, popping in. She’s got full face of intricate astronomy themed designs this time, which would look strange with her NASA badge around her neck on anyone else, but on her it just looks right. “What’s going on, Mr. Marriage?”

“I just called him something like that, too, and I want to make it clear we did not plan that,” Danny says firmly.

“Whatever,” Wheeler says. “Look, I may have done something stupid.”

“Yeah, tell me what else is new,” Lee says. He turns away from the phone to his computer, typing quickly. “Hold on, I gotta answer this – and done. What’d you do?”

Wheeler turns his phone so everyone can see the screen.

“Is that LiveJournal?” Kris asks. “My sister used to write fanfiction on there back in the day.”

“Yeah, uh, my dad used to post there, too.” Wheeler scrolls through the old blog. “It was kind of the only place he could talk about his transition and being a guy and all that, until he came out.” He looks between the three of them. “Guys, my dad was kind of...I don't know how to put this.”

Danny peers over, eyes widening. "I know how to put it," he says, looking far too pleased, "and I would say, affectionately, your dad was kind of a slut."

Lee barks out a laugh, big smile lighting up the screen. “I would pay good money to see you tell that to Mox.”

“I’d pay good money to get him to prove it,” Danny says with a leer.

Wheeler, like always, just pie faces him until he half falls over. “Okay, shut up. But I don’t know my other dad. Right?” They all nod, and Wheeler takes a deep breath. “I think I might have found him.”

The other three go silent for a second.

“Um,” Kris says, fidgeting with a keychain on her lanyard, “this might be one of those things you shouldn’t ask, but didn’t you not care about that?”

“No, you can ask,” Wheeler assures her. “I brought it up. And I don’t care who it is, not really.” He searches for the right words. “I just…” He pauses, trying to figure out how to say it. “I want him at my wedding. Or. Or maybe just to get an invite, you know.” He shrugs, curling in on himself, just a little. “It’s my wedding.”

Danny wraps an arm around Wheeler’s shoulders and Kris boops him through the screen. 

“Then we make it happen,” Lee decides. “What’s his name?”

“Well, that’s the thing,” Wheeler says, laughing a little. “Around 9 or so months before I was born, there’s three guys.”

“Slut alert,” Danny says with a grin.

“Yes, Danny, you already said that,” Wheeler says, scrolling up to the three posts in a row. “Look. Three in a row, three different guys.”

He reads the posts out loud, one after the other. Kris frowns in concentration, Danny makes wildly inappropriate commentary, and Lee, the one with connections, googles names and locations as they come up.

“Fuck,” Lee says, frowning. “I mean, I have some names, but everything’s behind a paywall.”

Wheeler nods. “I ran into that too. Another thing, they all happened so close together. There’s no guarantee which one would actually be the other dad.”

“You could have called them,” Kris suggests.

Wheeler grits his teeth. “That felt…wrong somehow? Like calling them would be too much or something.”

Danny frowns. “So you...sent them emails?”

Wheeler squirms in his seat. “Not exactly. I paid extra to use one of those White Pages programs.”

Danny narrows his eyes. “Wheels, what did you do?”

Wheeler squirms in his seat, feeling three sets of eyes keyed in on him. “I sent them wedding invites, around a month ago.”

Kris’ eyes widen. “And you’re just telling us now?!”

“I told Claudio, even before I sent them!” Wheeler defends. “He thought it was a good idea.”

“You could decide to join the circus and become the clown and Claudio would think it’s a good idea,” Lee says. “When do they show up?”

Wheeler grits his teeth. “They, uh. I think they’ll all be getting here tomorrow morning.” He pulls up his email. "They all sent their RSVPs and marked the 'Friday around noon' box."

“You think they'll get there all at the same time?” Kris asks. “That feels like a recipe for disaster."

Wheeler frowns. "I didn't think of that." He exhales, trying to keep his nerves under control. "But that's, like, way too much of a coincidence for them to get there exactly at noon, right?"

Nobody responds. Wheeler wishes they would.

Danny nudges Wheeler's arm out of the way to get to the computer and scrolls the posts, frowning. “Wheels, uh. There’s no pictures here.”

He nods. "Yeah."

“So,” and there’s that careful tone from Danny, when he’s about to say something rational that Wheeler doesn’t want to hear, “not to be a dick, but how the hell will you know who is who?”

“I’ll know my other dad when I see him,” Wheeler says, “or, like. At least be able to put a name to a face.” He frowns. “Probably. One of them is British so, like. At least that’ll help.”

“That’s the first post guy, right?” Kris asks. “He's fancy, and he was the guy your dad slept with first. My money’s on him.”

“My money’s on the one he flirted with by insulting him,” Danny says. “Best way to get laid.”

“Nah, it’s totally the interim gym manager,” Lee says. “He was the last on the list, and guys with a beard have the best dick in the game.”

“You don’t even like dick!” Danny yells.

“Yeah, but I got a great beard and great dick game,” Lee says with a grin.

Kris rolls her eyes. “Can we focus?” She adjusts her badge. “Lunch is almost over and I may not be the best with social stuff, but I’m pretty sure yelling about dick game is not work appropriate.”

“Yeah, good call, Stat,” Wheeler says. “Anyway. Danny’s here to help me figure this out. But I wanted to make sure you two know so if things get messy…” He trails off. “Well, you’ve got my back.”

“Course we do,” says Lee. Something on his watch beeps, and he presses the button to turn it off. “I gotta go. See you soon!”

They all say their goodbyes and hang up, and Danny claps Wheeler on the back. “You doing okay?”

“What? Yeah.” Wheeler frowns at his computer screen before he closes it, like the decades old posts will give him answers. “I’m good.” When he looks up, Danny’s got this little concerned crease in his forehead. “What’s wrong?”

Danny exhales slowly. “I don’t want you to get disappointed by this, is all,” he says quietly. “I mean, what if your dad only recorded three people in that time but there were others?”

Wheeler freezes. “I hadn’t even thought of that.”

“Did you ask him?”

“Who?”

Danny stares at him. “Your dad?” He stares harder. “Oh, you fucking idiot. You didn’t tell him about this.”

“I didn’t want him to freak out!”

Danny groans, scrubbing his hand over his face. “And Claudio didn’t talk you out of this batshit crazy plan. Of course he didn't.”

Wheeler shakes his head. “He said it was my call and that he’d support me with any idea.”

“Yeah, that tracks.” He reaches out a hand. “Come on, Wheely. Let’s go drop you off to your almost husband so I can scout the pickings here.”

Wheeler wrinkles his nose. “Please don’t fuck my dad’s friends.”

Danny’s grin is lecherous. “No promises.”

~

“So, your friends didn’t quite get it,” Claudio says, stroking Wheeler’s hair as they lay in bed. The hotel is comfortable, the smell of sea air and the taste of salt over everything, and Wheeler wishes he could stay here forever. “That’s okay."

"I guess I didn't expect them to totally understand,:" Wheeler says. "It's - I know it's weird."

Claudio sighs. "As long as they’ve got your back.”

“They do,” Wheeler says. “I know they do.” He plays with Claudio’s fingers where they rest on his chest. “I’m just wondering if it was a bad idea.”

Claudio shifts, catches Wheeler’s chin in his hands. “You’re doing what you need to do, Schatzi. Plus, it’s your wedding.”

“Our wedding,” Wheeler corrects. He grins. “Remember?”

“How could I forget? I’ve said the word ‘linens’ more time in the past few months than I have in the rest of my life.” Claudio flops back onto the bed. “If I have to hear Renee explain table settings one more time, I’m stealing you away to elope into Switzerland.”

“Still an option,” Wheeler says. He shifts so he’s leaning on Claudio’s chest. “Though I think my dad might shoot me if I leave him alone with his one night stands.”

Claudio laughs, eyes bright. “Yeah, I don’t think he’d forgive either of us.” He reaches up, brushes some floppy hair from Wheeler’s face. “I’m glad I ran into your dad’s gym that day.”

“I’m glad it was raining so you had to bang on the door.” Wheeler gets this swell in his heart, something that damned near renders him speechless, when he thinks of he day he saw Claudio the first time. Tall, dripping wet, frazzled as all hell. Seeking shelter from the storm as Wheeler was closing up for the night.

The rest, he supposes, is history. And the future.

Wheeler leans in, kisses Claudio with what he hopes is a promise of forever, and they fall into each other like so many times before this. Clothes scatter around the room in no time at all.

Claudio grins up at Wheeler. “You know,” he says, lips moving their way down Wheeler’s chest, his stomach, “this is the first time we’re having sex in a hotel room.”

“Mm, yeah,” Wheeler says as Claudio’s lips skip between his hips, avoiding where he wants them, “get on with it, baby.”

“So impatient,” Claudio says, but when his lips wrap around Wheeler’s cock, the whole world melts into the moment.

Wheeler finds himself more present than usual, focused on the feeling of Claudio’s tongue as it skates across the slit of his cock, the smell of the salt in the air, the sound of the waves in the distance. It feels like a fairytale, like a setting from someone else’s life, and Wheeler wants to bottle it.

“Claudio,” he whimpers, “can – can I – I want to fuck your mouth?” He glances down, watches Claudio's mouth stretch. "Fuck, please?"

Claudio tilts his head up, winking, and moves his arm from Wheeler’s hips. With reckless abandon, Wheeler pushes up into the wet heat of the man he gets to claim as his in a few days, in front of the world.

“Gonna –” Words fail him as the idea of keeping Claudio forever gets him close to the edge, but Claudio already knows his tells, already knows what it means. He dives down, Wheeler’s cock plunging down his throat, and Wheeler is coming hard and relentless and so, so good.

Claudio pulls away, pressing a kiss to Wheeler’s thighs as Wheeler comes down, stroking gently. “You’re always so pretty like that, Schatzi,” he says, voice sounding wrecked.

“Get up here,” Wheeler says, a little dazed but still focused.

He presses Claudio down to the bed, taking the time to lick the taste of himself off of Claudio’s tongue before sliding down his body to take his cock into his mouth. The sounds Claudio makes, the way he threads his fingertips into Wheeler’s hair, the way his name tumbles from Claudio’s lips like a prayer. It’s enough for Wheeler to promise him forever, even without everything else.

When Claudio comes, he babbles something in Swiss German, a sound that reminds Wheeler of home, and he crawls back up Claudio’s body to get wrapped in strong arms.

“This time Sunday night,” Claudio says, lips against Wheeler’s temple, “we’ll be married.”

[pawzthedrfoxfan]

hyperspecific poll

[thxliaaa]

don't make me choose | steve harrington

a short story

synopsis - you decided to let steve choose between you and her.

pairing/s - steve harrington x reader, mentions of steve harrington x nancy wheeler

warning/s - fighting, cursing, reader not being the first choice, angst

author's note - finally back with an angst ;) i thought of this short story while i was in class. don't ask me how and don't ask me why. anyways enjoy my lovelies <3

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“What is up with you tonight?” 

Steve scoffed at your sudden outburst towards him as soon as you entered your apartment. “Me? That’s rich coming from you” He retorted back as you looked up to him from your eyelashes.

You had gotten into a little altercation with Nancy at the Byers’ house tonight. It was nothing physical, although a few unkind words were exchanged in the process. On the way home, Steve had ignored you, and whenever you would try to start a conversation with him, he would just roll his eyes and scoff at you.

“I haven’t done anything to you! You’re the one who’s acting like bullshit!” You shouted at him as he turned to look at you with a sour look on his face. “Really? You’re really gonna act like nothing happened with you and Nancy tonight? Great.” He scoffed once more.

You looked at him in disbelief, so that’s why he’s been acting like that all night? Because of Nancy? 

He tossed the keychain on the kitchen counter as he stomped up the stairs and went to the bedroom, you quickly followed him, opening the door then slamming it to make your presence known.

“What the fuck, Steve? Are you seriously taking her side? I’m your girlfriend for fuck’s sake!” You pointed out as he snickered at you. “I’m taking her side because you’re being immature right now!” He stated as he stood up from the bed and went back down to the kitchen.

Again, rushing downstairs, you see him take a glass from the cabinet and fill it up with alcohol. “Steve Harrington, I am talking to you right now! Do not run away from me!” You exclaimed as you took the glass away from him.

He let out an annoyed sigh as he turned to look at you. “It was a little thing, (Y/N)! You could’ve let it go but you didn’t! Instead, you made a big deal out of it and decided to humiliate Nancy!” 

“Humiliate Nancy? She started it! Why are you even siding with her when you know she’s in the wrong!” You cried out as he put his hands on his waist, “I’m taking her side because clearly you’re acting very immature right now. And she’s our friend, (Y/N)! For God’s sake, you’re an adult! Act like one!” He stated, the words that came out from his mouth shattered you, on the inside and on the outside.

You looked at him with hurt in your eyes as he rolled his eyes. “Don’t look at me like that, that is so fucked up” 

In this moment, he showed his true colors. He never really moved on. In those nine months that you two were dating, you would expect him to side with you all the time just like he always did. But turns out, you could never compete with Nancy, not even close. So, you decided to give him a choice.

“Me or Nancy?”

Steve was suddenly taken aback by what you said. “What?” he said in a soft whisper. “I said Me or Nancy?” 

“No, no, don’t do that” He said, shaking his head, clearly unable to make a choice. “Why not, Steve?” You asked as he kept on shaking his head. 

“Don’t make me choose between you and her” He said looking you directly in your eyes. You tilted your head, tears threatening to fall. “Why? Cause you’ll choose her?”

“Yeah, I choose her” Steve said as you let out a sigh. The two of you stood there for a good minute, not moving until you finally decided to grab your car keys wanting to get away from that place as soon as you could.

As you got into the car, the tears that you were holding back finally started rolling down your cheeks. Deep down, you were expecting Steve to come out chasing after you. You wanted him to come out to apologize to you. Yet he never did.

In the end, you were only the second choice. If he really did love you, there wouldn't be a choice at all. But turns out, there was. And he will always choose Nancy.

taglist: if your name is crossed out, it means tumbr won't let me tag you, sorry :(

@t0ky0cl0v3r @joekeeryswife @555stargirl555 @idli-dosa @simpfoegeorge @evansflowers @simonsbluee @molllybc @seaveysinn @louweasleymalfoy @screambih @ifmybossfindsthisimfired @phantomxoxo @maxinedelore @111angelnumbers111 @shadyshadyy @cal-is-not-on-branding @ilovereadingfanfics @drxwstxrkxy @buckleyverse @vortxxx @ducky-is-dead-inside @bxtchboy69 @r00chal @danelhi @idkihavenofantasy @bula-zara @untitledarea @minaxcarter @thefandomplace @brxtnxy @heyyimmisunderstood @youare-hackskellington @thaliasworld96 @cherrybb-101 @quartzneyy @olivialou13 @nothing2113 @hehehehannahthings @livsh20 @crying-caro @angstasf @laurynstonephotography @munson-master @i-always-come-back-xoxo @Lovel-blog @Histvgirl @cherriebat @loverofjoes @cebragirl @alexxavicry @mushy-mushroom04 @analyticalfrog3 @kaitieskidmore1 @differentdeputyfishpaper @theamericanjewitch @lilostif16 @poppetbaby02 @auggie2000 @Slutt4eds

[vestboyfriends]

nancy starts reconnecting with parts of her childhood after all that shit went down for comfort. this prompts her to start a collection of stuffed animals, get into d&d again, pick her old lotr books up from the dusty shelves, experiment with make-up like she did as a preteen...

she even starts making friendship bracelets again but only gives them to very specific people; dustin has a green and yellow one he matches with steve, robin has a red, orange and yellow one she refuses to take off even when she showers, and jonathan has a purple one he turned into a keychain because bracelets kinda make his skin itch and he can't keep them on for longer than half an hour (of course, nancy helps him with redesigning it).

eddie has one, too. it's blue with a single pink bead in it. nobody really questions it, and if they do, eddie just shrugs and tells them that nancy ran out of blue beads and had to improvise. little do they know, nancy has a pink bracelet with one blue bead in it, matching eddie's.

it's not like nancy thinks eddie is more special than the others, or anything like that. it's just that eddie has been there, encouraging her on her journey to rediscover that part of her life she had forgotten.

when eddie caught nancy reading lotr behind school during lunch, he plopped down right beside her and talked about it with her for the remaining of their break (they now have weekly meet-ups where they discuss about the plot points nancy reached during the week). when nancy wanted to rekindle her relationship with d&d, eddie did not waste a second to organize a campaign just for her. when the two of them found themselves at the byers-hopper family's new home for movie night, nancy revealed to wanting to try out the lead actress' make-up on herself, and eddie told her he would have helped. (nancy thought he was joking; he wasn't.)

and when nancy ended up crying in eddie's arms after everything had felt like too much, when they both trusted each other enough to tell the other tiny little secrets about themselves and who they truly were, when eddie showed up at her house with cheap liquor and a box full of beads he had found at the flea market after a rough day... it was then that nancy knew she had found herself something precious.

so yes, nancy wheeler has a best friend. that's another thing she needed back from her childhood.

[im-just-a-mississippi-girl]

You Are The Best Thing That’s Ever Been Mine

Pairing: Ricky Starks x female!reader

Category: Fluff/Light Smut

Word count: 1,512

Summary: When your boyfriend, Ricky Starks comes home a day early, you’re surprised and even more surprised with the gift he brings you. You want to show him just how much you love and missed him, and Ricky can’t say no to you and your loving.

Warnings: Swearing, light smut, female reader but no description of reader

Requested by: @rubyred1980 Hope you enjoy it! ❤️

You can find the original request post here!

A/N: Since you let me pick, I chose Ricky Starks because I’ve been on a Ricky kick lately, and I’ve also wrote a couple for Wheeler Yuta, and I only have one fic for Ricky. Also, yes I did title this after a line in Taylor Swift’s song Mine.

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Taglist

Gif is not mine. Credit to owner.

Music was blaring from your phone as you cleaned — more like putting on a concert for your invisible audience. Using the broom as a microphone, you belted out the lyrics to your favorite song all while dancing around the living room. With every song that came on, you fell deeper and deeper into your own little world, not noticing the sound of a car pulling up in the driveway or the jingling of keys as the front door opened.

Ricky had pulled a few strings and made a few promises in order to come home a day earlier than originally planned, but it was worth it, especially when he entered the house only to see you singing and dancing like you were a superstar. In Ricky’s eyes, you were — even if you disagreed. He stood in the doorway of the living room, smiling ear to ear and watching you put on the show of a lifetime. He couldn’t fathom how he got so lucky.

You jumped, heart stopping momentarily when you finally turned around to see Ricky leaning against the doorframe. “Please continue. I’m enjoying the show, baby.” Ricky grinned as he gestured for you to continue with your performance.

Once the realization of Ricky really and truly being home sank in, you dropped the broom and rushed to him. You threw your arms around his neck, burying your face in the crook of his neck. “I missed you.” You mumbled.

Ricky wrapped one arm around your waist while he cradled the back of your head with his free hand. He had his face buried in the crook of your neck as well. “I missed you too, love.” He whispered.

You gently pulled back to look Ricky in the eyes, those beautiful dark brown eyes that you always get lost in. “Wait….. I thought you weren’t coming back until tomorrow?” You questioned as it hit you he was home a day early. “Not that I’m complaining, I’m just confused.” You clarified, not wanting him to think you didn’t want home him so soon.

Ricky chuckled. “Don’t worry about it, beautiful. All it took was a few promises.” He shrugged, leading you to the couch. “Here, sit. I brought you a surprise. You’re gonna love it!” Ricky exclaimed. He couldn’t wait for you to see his gift. As soon as he saw it, he knew he had to get it for you, it practically screamed your name.

“But wait, Ricky. What promises did you have to make?” You called after him, but it was too late, he was already out of the room and digging through his bag. You didn’t expect Ricky to get you anything — you never do, but he always does even if it is just a keychain from a gas station.

“Close your eyes! And no peaking!” He yells once he finally finds the little box containing your surprise. He couldn’t wait to see the look on your face when you open the box.

You two have been together for almost four years, and neither one of you could be any happier. There was instantly a connection between the two of you when you met all those years ago — not exactly the whole love at first sight cliché but something else.

You covered your eyes with your hands like Ricky asked. “Wanna give me a hint?” You asked, hearing his footsteps approaching. You were indifferent to surprises, on one hand you liked them because it meant whoever was surprising you thought about you, but on the other you didn’t like them because you got anxious about it — what if you didn’t like it or what if it was expensive? You hated people spending a bunch of money on you, and regardless how often you told Ricky, he always replied with telling you that you were worth every penny.

You felt the couch dip beside you, indicating Ricky had joined you. “Okay. Open your eyes.” You heard him say softly.

Removing your hands from your eyes and opening them, you see a small box in his hands. You gasped, pausing momentarily before turning to look Ricky in the eyes. “Ricky…. What is this?” You cautiously ask.

“Open it and find out!” Ricky urges. His reaction makes you think he’s more excited than you are — and he one hundred percent is.

“Okay! Okay!” You laugh, giving in and opening the small box. You gasp once more, seeing the beautiful bracelet he bought for you. It was a silver charm bracelet with the cutest music inspired charms on it. You couldn’t take your eyes off it. “Oh Ricky…. I love it!” You exclaimed after a minute, finally trusting your voice to speak. You were overwhelmed with emotion, a huge smile on your face and watery eyes. Looking up at Ricky, you see his smile matches yours, and with no hesitation, you pull him in for a love filled kiss — the first kiss since he’s come home.

Slowly breaking the kiss, Ricky clips the bracelet on your wrist. “I know how much you love music — singing, writing, playing, dancing, all of it. Your personal concerts are my favorite.” He fondly recalls the countless memories. “What do you say we put on some music, and I’ll be your backup singer and backup dancer?” Ricky suggested, standing and flipping through his phone to his music app and pressing shuffle.

To both your surprise, a slow love ballad comes on. Giggling and feeling like the luckiest woman in the world, you stand and wrap your arms around him, pulling him close. Ricky wraps his arms around you as well and begins to sway the both of you. As the song continues, it builds and soon Ricky’s twirling you around the room. No slow dance is complete without a dip, and no dip is complete without a kiss.

Helping you back upright, your eyes lock with Ricky’s. “Kiss me again, but this time, don’t stop.” You whisper, your face mere inches from his. You never have to tell Ricky more than once to kiss you. He always says your kiss are addictive, and he can never get enough. You always said the same thing about his kisses too.

Ricky crashed his lips against yours in a love filled kiss. You quickly reciprocated, not wasting another second. You pull Ricky closer to your body as you wrap your arms around his neck. You feel Ricky’s hands roaming over your back before settling on your ass as your tongues fight for dominance.

Reluctantly pulling away from him, you give him the best sultry look you can muster before turning around in his arms to grind your ass against his cock. You smirk when you hear his breath hitch and a low moan escape his lips. Ricky tilted his head towards your neck, peppering it with kisses, making sure to pay extra attention to that sensitive spot where your neck meets your shoulders. His kisses trail across your shoulder, and his fingers dance down towards your pussy. You're just getting wetter by the second, and you can feel Ricky getting harder by the second.

“Let’s move this to the bedroom.” You say, grabbing his hands and pulling him along down the hall.

“Thought you’d never ask.” Ricky teased, eyes never leaving your ass as he followed behind you.

Once in the bedroom, your lips are on Ricky’s, hands roaming all over one another before finally reaching the bed. Ricky makes quick work of removing your clothes and his too. He gently pushes you on the bed and climbs on top of you. “Let me show you how much I’ve missed you.” Ricky smirks, trailing kisses down your body.

“Not so fast.” You tell him, grabbing his arms to get his attention. “I wanna show you how much I’ve missed you first.” You say, giving him your best seductive look. “On your back.” You lightly demand.

Ricky groans at your demand, clearly you’ve discovered something new about him that you will definitely use in the future. “Yes ma’am.” He complies and follows your order.

Once on his back, you crawl up him, leaving kisses here and there. “Much better.” You whisper in his ear. “Just relax, babe. You’ll love what I have planned.” You wink, sliding down his body and settling in between his legs.

“Oh fuck.” Ricky moaned at the sight, knowing just what he was in for. He was no stranger to receiving oral from you, and he knew from experience that you knew what you were doing, leaving him completely blissed out once you finally finished.

“When I’m done, you can do whatever you want to me. I think that’s more than a fair trade, don’t you?” You said, before gently kisses the tip of cock.

“Yes… oh fuck, yes it is.” He groaned, head falling onto the pillow.

“Get comfortable, babe. I’m going to be here for a while.” You inform him, hearing his breathing instantly become heavy at your words.

Ricky was in for the night of his life, and he was glad it was with you.

General taglist: @cuzimacomedian @plentyoffandoms @1dluver13xx @sunshinevirus

A/N: If you want to be added to the taglist, feel free to ask, message, or let me know in a comment!

[brokehorrorfan]

Funko will release a new wave of Stranger Things Season 4 Pop collectibles in February. Erica Sinclair, Mike Wheeler in California, Argyle, Hunter Robin Buckley, Eleven with Diorama, Demobat, Vecna, and Hunter Steve Harrington Pops can be pre-ordered for $11.99 each.

Target has an exclusive Nancy Wheeler two-pack and Argyle with Surfer Boy Pizza van, while Walmart carries a Steve/Robin/Vecna three-pack. Erica, Robin, Steve, and Vecna Pop keychains are also available.

[chieri-rose-under-blog]

“Me Time/Bondage Time”

⛔️Super NFW!⛔️ MDNI or be blocked.

Info: self-bondage, toys, trapped, gagged, aged-up character, solo-act, about 4K

Character: 26yr Joey Wheeler (Yu-Gi-Oh)

❤️🖤❤️🖤❤️🖤❤️🖤❤️🖤❤️🖤❤️🖤❤️

Finally, the weekend was here, Joey had thought to himself when he had woken that morning.

After working hard at his various jobs all week, he usually headed to the dueling cafes or card shops to spend his money. Today however, he had something planned for his secret hobby.  

Two of his closes’ friends knew about the other places he liked to visit and only one knew how far his personal hobby went. Joey saw himself has as a regular 26-year-old guy with certain needs and interest. He just didn’t flaunt this particular hobby around, because half the fun was keeping it in the dark and in the bedroom.

Joey appreciated the variety of topics his lewd hobby had to experiment with. Today’s topic was bondage. He had always had an interest in that subject and at the idea of giving and accepting power over someone’s body. Joey had a collection of movies, books and yes, toys. His favorite way to get-off was to gag himself with different gag balls and items like scarfs, silk ropes and even his own socks, then oil his hand and jerk his cock while a movie play. He would then pretend that he was the one receiving in the movies he watched, but lately, it wasn’t enough.

He wanted to feel the restraint of a rope on his wrist and ankles, while struggling in pleasure. To know what it felt like to be at someone’s mercy. To reach that fine line of being used and surrendering to the unknown. The very idea of needed to cry-out and not to make a sound always got his dick hard.

Problem was, Joey didn’t have a partner that he could trust to do bondage play with him. Even if he did, Joey would like to have some practice to know what to expect. His problem was solved while browsing his favorite adult shop. In the area where all the books and magazines where there was a community board.

It had advertisements for love hotels, websites for local hook-ups, numbers for sexual consults, and wellness classes, like yoga and spin. Joey gave the board a brief glance when he saw a poster that gave him an idea. Quickly, Joey went to the front to sign-up for a test trial of a new system of toys that worked with A.I. He didn’t need to spend a signal cent of his hard-earned money and today he was going to put the brand-new toys to use.

After a light breakfast, Joey hopped into the shower to get himself clean. Then without bothering to dress, he made sure the heat in his apartment was set to a comfortable setting and got everything he needed setup in his room. The curtains were pulled closed, and artificial candles were placed around the room. From his closet, Joey pulled out a bondage rack that he bought at a sale last Christmas and placed it securely against an empty wall of his room. He moved a standing mirror so that it faced the rack, and then set a small table in front of the mirror and on it, a camera looking device.

According to the instructions, the device would read the users moods, reactions, and heartrate and control the actions of the toy. Joey looked down at one of the black silicone toys and wondered if what he was planning to do would work. He hoped it did and if not, he could figure out what to do with the free toys. He set the toy down and grabbed the items for his gag.

First, he stuffed a rolled-up pair of clean socks, then wrapped a wide piece of fabric over his mouth and tied it at the back of his head. Last, he picked up a square scarf and folded it to a triangle and placed it over the fabric. Joey had discovered this method of gagging after plenty of practice. Still, he tested the gag by trying to talk or make a sound, but it all came out in low muffle.

“Rous, Rous” Test, test, he tried to say. 

Satisfied, he picked up a black scroungy keychain that had a key and a small remote attached to it. Joey slipped it over his right wrist, picked up the anal strap-on toy and walked to the rack. He had a bottle of lube near the rack and used it to spread on his toy. Joey was uneasy about this part, but his excitement urged him to place the toy on his body.

His cock was partly erected just like the instructions said it should be. Joey slipped the silicon loop over the head and slid it down to the base. The second loop went around his balls. He waited to make sure he could handle having both his cock and balls tied up by the black silicone. The last thing he needed was damaging his manhood. To be on the safe side, he squirted more lube over the loops and on the last part of the toy.

 “Come on,” Joey thought to himself. “Just like what I’ve practiced.” 

Joey had used anal toys before, but this part had always made him nervous. With slippery fingers, he teased open the puckered ring between the globes of his ass. His breathing came in long, steady waves as he let his body relax. When two of his fingers went in without issue, Joey pressed the head of the toy to his hole. The toy was wider than his two fingers, but his ass easily took it in, and when it brushed passed that sweet spot, Joey had to pause to breath, or risk spilling out too soon.

"Oof!”

Oh god, that’s..., he blowout a breath as he mentally thought, tight.

Once Joey was sure it was safe, he pushed in the rest of the silicon length till he felt the base. Drops of sweat had already formed around his forehand, and Joey wiped the drops away before his blonde bangs would stick to his face. He caught a glimpse of himself in the long mirror and smiled at his lewd reflection. He was taller now, and kept his lean physique, but he had muscles. Not big, burly muscles, but enough to show that he worked out and to keep his ass from drooping.

His honeyed eyes dropped down to his stung-up privates. Joey didn’t need to shave as much and had a lite happy trail of dark blond hair that led down to a small bush of hair that surrounded his dick and balls. Waxing didn’t sound like his thing, so he trimmed and shaved to his comfort. As he looked over his body, Joey realized that he was forgetting one last thing before he could tie himself to the rack.

The test package also came with a pair of nipple toys that looked like small disks. Just a bit of lube and they were supposed to stay on the whole time of play. Once they were on, Joey moved the rack and started locking in his feet with padded cuffs that had strong velcro. Next, he secured his left hand with another padded cuff and for good measure, a pair of red fluffy handcuffs. The last part was tricky, but he had practiced enough times before today learning how to cuff his right with one hand.

Joey tested the restraints to make sure he couldn’t get out by excessive pulling. His eyes closed as he took a steadying breath, then opened them as he faced the mirror and the camera. His right hand clicked on the A.I and he watched the green light flicker to life on the device. A small lens zoomed in and out, and for a moment, Joey wondered if this was a good idea.

His thoughts froze and shattered when he felt a vibration circling his cock and balls. The loops were supposed to have some special beads in them, but Joey didn’t think it was true when he felt the loops. The buzzing then stopped, and Joey used the break to catch his breath. He only had about two seconds before the loops started sending a vibrating wave around just his sack this time.

“M-Mmph! Sro rood” 

Mm, so good, Joey had tried to say, but the sock wouldn’t let him form a single syllable.

The vibration stopped around his sack and started up around his fully erect cock. The loops switched on and off in different patterns that Joey couldn’t predict and just when he thought he was getting used the sensation, the right nipple disk started to squeeze his nipple.

“Oo…ou” Ooh...oh

Just like the loops, Joey didn’t expect the nipple disk to do much, but sucking like sensation made him want to roll his head back. The padded headrest prevented that, so Joey was forced to watch himself wriggle on the rack as buzzing filled the air when both his nipples were being played with.

The technique of the teasing was better than what Joey expect from the A. I., but he wondered when the vibrator in his ass would start to work. The setting on the remote was on a beginner level. He pressed the smooth button and was instantly moaning and jerking.

“Mmph! Mmph! Ou-Mmm!

Both the nipple vibes and the loops were going at high speeds with random patterns that Joey had no time to predict. His head shifted side to side while fighting against the gag to let out a moan or cry, but the pieces of fabric did their job. A second later, Joey felt that good and funny feeling building in his groin and shooting up-wards.

He made a loud muffle cry and fell slack in his restrains. The buzzing from the vibrators stopped and he was given a moment of rest.

A low sound came from Joey’s throat as he chuckled. That went better than he expected. So what if the back door didn’t get some action, he felt satisfied. Maybe in about five minutes he will be ready to-

The vibrators in his ass started moving up into him, making Joey yelp, or try to.

“Ou-Mmph!” Oh shit!

He wasn’t aware that the vibrator also thrusted, but he relaxed into the rhythm in which the toy moved. It was pleasant feeling as it glided further up his ass giving some stimulation to that special spot. Joey groaned and moved his hips trying to get more. More of that feeling. The toy just kept on moving in pace that quickly become too slow and dull.

Wasn’t it supposed to vibrate?

Tired of loosening the mood, Joey pressed the button one more time. The toy stopped. Annoyed and miffed, Joey looked at the remote and clicked it on and off. Nothing. Joey glared at the A.I.

“Ou-Onu! Wok!” Come on! Work!

He then pressed and held down the button. The camera’s white light blinked till it turned a dark red. Joey wondered what it meant then went blank as the toy thrust harder. His right nipple was then zapped, and he flinched at the pain. The loop around his cock started sneezing right as he felt a vibration right at that sweet spot in his hole.

Joey threw his head back as his body was assaulted with pain and pleaser. His nipples were teased with sucking, zapping and sneezing as the toy buzzing and thrusted. The loop around the base of his cock held him tight and Joey worried if it would never let go.

“ORT! ORT!”

Wait! Wait! He tried to say, but the sock still wouldn’t let him form a word.

The last loop around his balls switched on with a high buzz, and Joey let out a panic scream. He needed to cum! But would the A.I. let him?!

Let me cum! Oh god, let me cum! He tried to shout. The only sound he was able to make was a loud muffled sound.

“OOORRR!’” Joey roared and the loop let go of his cock to let him spurt out his white seed.

Again, Joey collapsed on the rack as his cock spurted out smaller spits of seed. Joey breathed heavily against his gag as streams of saliva found a way around the thick sock and cloth. Sweat beaded his body, and Joey felt done with his experiment for the day. He flicked his wrist so to catch the remote in his hand, but his skin was so slick with sweat that it flew off his wrist.

Joey watch in horror as the plastic lanyard went across his face and landed near his left foot.

“Ro!” No! He tried to shout. 

He breathed in and out against the sock so not to panic. He could still get off the rack with the key. The key that was on the lanyard. Joey yanked hard at with his arm, but he did too good of a job at making sure the restraints couldn’t be pulled off.

Maybe the A.I. won’t turn on! Maybe, I can still...

A low humming was heard, and Joey turned to the small table with the camera and watch the white flashing light turn red. He shook his head side to side dramatically, hoping to get the A.I to stop.

“RO! Ru rou! Ru rmu-” 

No. I’m done. I don’t want to-

This time his ball sack was zapped, and his nipples were pitched hard. Joey jumped then yanked harder at his arms before the other toys would turn on.

I have to get free! Joey thought frantically as he yelled “stop” at the A.I but it came out as, “ROP! ROP!”

The loop on his cock started to sneeze and lot go at a slow pace and his balls was zapped again. It became a three-way ping-pong game between his cock, nipples and balls. Joey would try to escape when the patterns would switch but the sudden zap would throw him off his mission.

It wasn’t till the toy in his ass made a quick thrust and buzz that Joey felt himself cumming again!

“OOR-groo!” Oh god!

He took three literal breaths before trying yank himself free again.

I have to get free. Have to turn off the-

*Buzz*, went the toy in his ass and Joey looked up in wide-eye terror at the A.I. The machine wasn’t going to give him a break this time.

“Nro! Nro! Otp! Otp! No! No! Stop! Stop!

Joey pleaded with the A.I to stop but the machine kept going and would till the battery died in five hours. Joey didn’t know how much time had passed since cumming twice, but he wasn’t sure if he could do it again. As if sensing the fear, the A.I. had the toy moved a soothing motion and play lightly with his very sensitive nipples. Joey rolled his eyes back and huffed into the gag.

“Auw, auw, auw” Ah, ah, ah

Five minutes later, he came again. Though, if he had anything to spurt, Joey didn’t know. His head felt light as he blinked away sweat falling from his blonde bangs into his eyes. He eyed the camera and watched it flash the white light for ten minutes before turning red. Joey closed his eyes and jumped at the zap that came from inside his ass and groan when his dick was zapped next.

Joey would cum again and again that day, tied to the rack with no way of calling for help.

In some twisted way, his experiment went better than planned, he thought as his eyes rolled back in ecstasy. The A.I did give breaks, but only long enough so not to kill him. That would be bad for the audience watching. It was after all, a camera.

❤️End❤️

[mediocre--writing]

hiiiiiii :D

i’m going to give you both a harringrove and a kegboys thing

harringrove: the mindflayer didn’t kill billy and billy spent months recovering. when he was let out he didn’t speak to people. but steve was the only one capable of holding onto the patience enough for billy to eventually start talking to him. billy gets a job at a slow business convenient store/gas station. and steve meets him to have lunch together outside in the back every day.

kegboys: steve had a pine tree at the front of his house with a yellow ribbon for barb. and one year billy cuts it down without knowing about its significance. steve eventually finds out what happened and tommy had to take him to the other room before telling billy what he’d done. they spend the day making steve feel better by getting a brand new tree and retying a ribbon even bigger than before.

oooooh these are both so good.

Harringrove: I think that, especially after Steve's whole fiasco with the Russians, he doesn't mind the quietness that comes with Billy. Doesn't mind waiting for him to speak because Steve himself does't really know what he would even say.

Steve's parents, after his 18th birthday, pretty much never came home. They had like seven other houses elsewhere and Steve was his own functioning adult, so they, frankly, didn't give two shits. So Billy stays with him. Plus, Steve's got no job after the mall burned down and his parents are still paying for the house and everything, it's not like it's much of an issue.

They bond in a silent way. Billy can't talk. Like physically, for the first three-ish months, can't get his voice to come out in any understandable fashion, as having a tentacle forced down his throat pretty much ripped at every bit of skin there.

But they communicate. Steve is used to his lonely life in a mansion and just appreciates another body being there that makes it not so lonely.

They function around each other. Whoever gets up first makes the coffee, whoever goes to sleep last turns the main lights off. Whoever opens the clean dishwasher has to empty it and whoever tracks the most snowy footprints in has to mop next.

The first time Billy really talks to Steve is after a nightmare. But not from Billy (he's become really good at controlling how loud his whimpers and crying can get, even asleep [fuk u neil🖕]). Steve is pretty much screaming bloody murder in his sleep and Billy can barely get up the tall staircase as it is, but mixed with sleep and his rush, he slips a few times trying to get to Steve, thinking something is really wrong.

By the time he bursts into Steve’s room, Steve is sitting straight up in bed staring at the blurry light while trying to catch his breath. Billy cautiously walks up to him, flips on a lamp light so there wouldn’t be any in-the-dark scares for Steve, and sits across from him on the edge of the bed. 

Steve ultimately just collapses into Billy’s chest and sobs and sobs and sobs until he’s got it all out and the only thing that can be heard are Steve’s unsteady breaths and Billy’s reassurances. It’s the softest Steve thinks he’s ever heard Billy speak to anyone. 

Steve starts sleeping in the guest room downstairs with Billy after another incident when he starts screaming occurs because it wears Billy down a lot to battle the stairs (his muscles are worn thin and he has very little strength these days). Steve stirs in his sleep but hasn’t panicked like that since he started cuddling with Billy. 

Joyce eventually pulls some strings and gets Billy a job at Melvald's (small town business start picking up after Starcourt burning down) where he can just sit in a chair at the front and check people out. Occasionally she’ll have him stock small things like keychains or the snacks at checkout. 

Steve visits most days during Billy’s break time. Brings take out from Benny’s or leftovers that Mrs. Henderson insisted on dropping off every other week because the boys “needed good, homemade food that they wouldn’t make for themselves.” 

Billy has never felt more taken care of in his life and enjoys the gentle breeze when he and Steve chat behind Melvald’s and eat, sharing what’s happened during the few hours they’d spent apart or discussing what their weekend plans would be. Maybe what they were hungry for for dinner that night. 

One day, when they’re eating a tuna casserole straight out of the Tupperware Mrs. Henderson had put it in, a stray cat comes and kneads gently at Billy’s thigh, over his jeans, and he puts a bit of the casserole on a napkin for the small kitty. 

It becomes a routine and eventually he brings out a can of cat food from the store to feed the cat when he takes his breaks. They call her Melly (after Melvald’s, of course) and eventually she finds a way to sneak into the Camaro and becomes a full-fledged, sassy, rude house cat that has to sleep in the bed with the boys every night or she will scream her little cat scream and scratch at the door until they let her in. 

Kegboys: (ok I tweaked this just a tad bc I couldn’t find a reason for billy to just chop down a random tree) Steve planted the tree after she’d passed away. He didn’t know how to feel about it. He felt awful, of course. He goaded her into drinking with them just because he wanted Nancy and look where that got him. He basically killed a girl and he lost his girlfriend.

He plants this tree, it’s thin and just taller than he is, but every year, after winter ends and plants bloom again, he ties a beautiful yellow bow around the thickest branch near the trunk. He looks at it every morning through the window, the small pine tree at the end of the driveway. 

Only Tommy was there that night, the night a few weeks after it had all “ended” (the first time) and Steve breaks down. Sobs like he never has before, talking in fragmented sentences about how he’s to blame, he killed Barb out of teenage ignorance and because he wanted to have sex with Nancy Wheeler. What a fuckin’ waste. 

Tommy is actually the one who suggests they plant the tree in the first place, a life now gone for a life yet to live. Steve takes care of that tree like if it died, he would too. 

Steve ties a ribbon on it the first year. Tommy adds a second the next year. 

Nobody else really cares. It’s a tree, not a giant portrait of the girl, for crying out loud. Nobody says anything about the bow that gets put on the tree because nobody would put together that the tree represented Barb, it’s just a tree to everyone else. 

Billy wasn’t around for the beginning. He knew that a girl close to Nancy and Steve had died, sure, but he hadn’t known that it was in Steve’s pool and he never knew about the pine tree that grew at the top of the driveway. 

There was a storm, a big one right at the tail end of summer, one that ripped up plants and trees and shingles off of houses, flooded the ditches and low points in the town. 

Billy takes it upon himself to try and fix the Harrington’s trashed yard once the storms let up. He rakes away all the pine straw that had descended and piles up all the large branches and debris. There’s a tree, the pine tree that usually stands tall at the end of the driveway, that was severed at the base, only a mere three or four feet still protruding from the ground, the rest split and resting, half connected, on the ground. 

Billy breaks off the part that was already off, puts it in the pile with the rest of the debris. 

The stump stays at the end of the driveway and Billy goes inside, walks up to Steve and Tommy in the living room after washing his hands and grabbing some water. Tells them that he straightened up the yard. 

“And that tree at the end was broken, so I picked off the part left hanging and put it on the fire pile. I figure we can find something else to plant in it later this week or--”

He’s cut off by Steve jumping off the couch and running out of the front door. He stands a few feet away from the stump left over and falls, bare knees hitting the still damp and muddy ground as he shows no other reaction. 

Tommy’s right behind him, holds his shoulders from behind as he stares at the tree. Billy, from behind Tommy, doesn’t ask a question but stares confusedly at the boys who seem distraught by the disappearance of a seemingly meaningless tree. 

Gentle coaxing, “C’mon, Steve. It’s alright, it’ll grow back and we can buy more ribbon, I promise, but you have to come inside, you’re all muddy,” from Tommy convinced Steve to come inside. 

With no care for how his mother would react to her perfectly white rug being ruined by the dirt, Steve trudges through and eventually lays on the couch, cradling a pillow to his chest while Tommy promises to make him something warm to drink. 

He beckons Billy into the kitchen with him as he puts the kettle on the burner, enough water for all three of them to have tea, and turns to Billy. 

“Why’s he so upset about a tree?” Billy didn’t mean for it to sound harsh or inconsiderate, he was just curious why Steve seemed so distraught over a pine tree that was nowhere near as tall as the ones that were around the house. 

“Ok, so, you know Barb, the girl that died here?”

“She died here!?”

“You didn’t know?”

“Well nobody talks about it, how was I supposed to know?” 

“You should--Nevermind, anyway, she died here because of the whole other-world-monster-guy and Steve blamed himself for it, for, like, ever,” Tommy rested his elbows on the counter, “So, when he finally told me about it, we wanted to do something for her, like a memorial thing, anyway, we decided on a tree and he always ties the yellow ribbon around it and he takes care of it like it’s a child, but it’s gone so--”

“--He feels like he let her die again. Like it was his fault,” Billy concludes. 

“Yeah,” Tommy assures before turning to the cupboards and pulling down three mugs, pouring the hot water in before placing tea bags in each. 

“I mean, is there anything we can do? I feel awful, but the tree was already snapped, I couldn’t have like mended it or anything. I swear it wasn’t intentional,”

“You wouldn’t have known, it’s not your fault. I think Steve just feel a little out of his own mind at the moment, like he lost the hold he had on her. I really don’t know,”

Billy and Tommy stayed on the couch with Steve that day, they just rested and drank tea, listen to soft music on the radio, and took care of the droopy brunet. 

They didn’t replace the tree. They let the old one stay and made sure to take excellent care of it. They’d tie three ribbons on the tree every year, made sure they were tied tightly, the tree growing faster and more prosperous than before, and Steve was better. 

He realized that sometimes you have to get cut down before you can really unveil your true potential, that a little extra love can do wonders. 

[thephantomofthe-internet]

Afternoons at the Hawkins Community Pool

Billy Hargrove x Reader

Word Count: 5,056

Warnings: Drowning, blood, hints at abuse, drug use, swearing

Author’s Note: GUESS WHO’S BACK, BACK AGAIN? MADDIE’S BACK, TELL A FRIEND! First fic finished in literal months hello yes I still write! I’m not washed up! Is this any good? I don’t know. Is this even a romance? No clue. Will anyone read it? PLEASE DO LMAO

Tags: This is my old list, if you want to be added or removed, shoot me an ask! @hotstuffhargrove @casaharrington @thechickvic @alex--awesome--22 @lilmissperfectlyimperfect @so-not-hotmess @hipsmcgee @carolimedanvers

“It’s show time, ladies.”

Judging by the switch in the squad of middle aged women who made the west deck their pride rock, Billy Hargrove’s shift had begun.

You only had two hours left of your shift now. Once Billy got on deck, you could finally take a break. Fucking Heather always took an hour instead of the allotted thirty minute break, claiming to be easily susceptible to heat stroke.

As if you weren’t.

Still, now that her shift was over, everything would calm down.

Most people were either enraptured or absolutely terrified by Billy. He was…difficult to deal with.

Sure, he was sweet to the adults of the pool; the people who didn’t get in the way were always a favourite of the staffers, but to the kids? He was a menace. You didn’t understand why he’d take a job where he’d have to prioritize the safety of children.

As if on cue, Billy began his stupid strut to the south chair. You always took the north side, where the sun didn’t hit so hard. This gave Billy ample opportunity to strut around the deck like a peacock, smirking at the moms in heat, drooling over him.

“Afternoon ladies,” he crooned as he passed and you swore that at least three of them passed out from the sheer excitement of it all. He nodded to Mrs. Wheeler. Here came the cincher, the line that would make the group’s dreams come true and fuel their fantasies for weeks.

“Dig the new suit, Mrs. Wheeler.” He gave her a nod, chewing on something. If you had to guess, it was probably cinnamon gum. His breath always stunk of the stuff after shifts.

You averted your gaze after that; you knew exactly what would happen next. Billy would climb up onto his post and the ladies would check out his ass, giggling to themselves and high fiving Mrs. Wheeler for earning his attention for the day.

The image of Mrs. Wheeler’s sharply manicured hand gripping the top of her deckchair, mouth half open in utter lust, red lipstick smeared over the lines of her lips and eyes half closed as she stared at him climbing into the chair was something that would stick in your mind for the rest of the shift.

And then there was you on the other end of the pool, watching them like a creep.

Maybe you were the problem.

You had taken the job at the Hawkins Community Pool purely because it was tradition. You took the job every year, strapping into the bright red one piece with your hair pulled tight into a ponytail at the top of your head. You liked the job: the smell of chlorine and the sounds of happy kids splashing in the cold water. It was a relaxing job-most days nothing bad happened. The kids in town all took swim lessons in the winters one town over. Carmel had a heated indoor pool and a great deal on group swim lessons on weekends. You hadn’t seen a kid have a problem in the pool in three summers.

Today, someone had a problem.

You had just climbed out of your chair to head for your break. You were more than ready to step into the lush air conditioning of the office. Your back had only been turned for a second, Billy was supposed to be watching the pool anyway. But when you turned back you heard a scream.

Some weird kid had fallen into the deep end without a lifejacket. He couldn’t have been older than five. You quickly looked up to Billy.

That little fucking bitch.

He was flirting with Mrs. Wheeler.

You blew hard into your whistle, letting out a loud blast before taking off in a full sprint towards the deep end. You dove quickly into the pool and swam up to the kid before grabbing him under the armpits and swimming him into the shallow end, lifting him onto the deck and letting him cough and sputter.

“Do you need assistance? Can you breathe?” you asked quickly, catching your own breath. You had to ensure the victim was actually in need of medical assistance before you performed any life saving manoeuvres on them. The kid nodded quickly as an older man rushed up, bending down to rub his back. The kid immediately broke into tears, gripping tightly onto the man’s legs.

“Thank you.” The man said quickly, picking up the boy, who hugged him like his life depended on it. You assumed he was the parent and didn’t ask any more questions. Usually, you lay in with questions, but the kid couldn’t be more shook up. You watched to see where they’d go, letting out a relieved sigh when the group returned to the Wilson family, all examining the boy. He must be a cousin of theirs, in town for the weekend or something. You could go on your break with the knowledge that you hadn’t let a strange kid go off with an even stranger man who he didn’t know.

You blew your whistle again and pool activities resumed, although more cautiously. Now, you could start your break. But first, a quick pit stop.

You marched your way over to Billy and Mrs. Wheeler. It was as though they lived in their own bubble that sound couldn’t penetrate. Neither of them seemed to notice the commotion or hear the whistle blow. Mrs. Wheeler just kept laughing at whatever Billy was saying. She reached out to bat his arm and her fingers grazed there just a bit too longer, although neither of them noticed.

It was utterly disgusting.

You tapped Billy hard on his shoulder. He didn’t turn around. You tried again. Same response. You let out a loud, annoyed cough. Mrs. Wheeler didn’t even bat an eye at you and she could see you just over his shoulder. You finally blew a hard, short tweet into the whistle, effectively taking out Billy’s eardrum.

He turned fast, his face pulled into a sneer that you could only smile at. “What?” he snapped bitterly, fists clenched at his sides.

“Just wanted to make sure you could still hear. Since you missed the two other times I blew my whistle.” You replied, your fake smile turning sarcastic as you held his gaze.

“Sorry, I must have been distracting him, I’m sure he heard.” Mrs. Wheeler cut in, placing a manicured hand on his shoulder. She looked too proud of that fact, her lustful gaze unhealthy looking.

“That’s alright Mrs. Wheeler.” You looked over her shoulders briefly, catching sight of her group packing up to leave. Your smile turned to a malicious smirk “Oh, your friends seem to be leaving. If you don’t have your locker key, you should go grab it before they leave, don’t want to have your purse get stuck again.”

The last three times she’d come to the pool, she’d given her key to Mrs. Carol Simpson, whose son Billy had threatened to ban upon entering the deck. Mrs. Wheeler ended up stranded without her key, her bag locked in the locked with no way of getting it out. She had to have the janitor of the pool open her locker with the master key and then, to make matters worse, she had to prove that the stuff was hers. All of her things were dumped on the deck as she tried to prove that her granny panties and tampons were hers based on the shrill cries that there was a Minnie Mouse keychain on her purse. She got her stuff back, at the expense of her humility.

“I gave my key to the front desk, won’t lose it again.” Mrs. Wheeler chuckled proudly, an embarrassed flush creeping up her neck and ears.

“Oh, then you should ensure that they still have it. Mara is not the brightest bulb in the bunch, she’d lose her head if it wasn’t screwed on.” You replied, matching her laugh. Mrs. Wheeler’s smile dropped and she rushed off without another word.

You turned your attention back to Billy, your smile dropping away. “I’m going on my break, can you actually do your job while I’m gone.” You snapped bitterly.

“I was. Customer satisfaction is a key part of our job.” He made a big deal out leering at Mrs. Wheeler’s ass as she bent over to grab her things off the chair.

You scoffed “Watch the fucking pool, Hargrove, Mrs. Wheeler and her saggy ass will be back tomorrow.” You turned dramatically on your heel and stomped off.

You could scream. That boy was so…so…fucking frustrating! He was a nuisance and a pervert and a showboater and god, just a pig! All year he’d done nothing but screw anything in a skirt, just whoring around all year and making a mockery of some very nice girls. And now, now he decides to be a one woman man. And the woman is a married mother of three. What the fucking fuck??? How nasty! And she was into it? God who knew Karen Wheeler was a creep? Lock up your sons, mothers of Hawkins, Mrs. Wheeler is on the prowl for jailbait! It made you sick just thinking about it.

Even stepping into the cool office didn’t alleviate the feeling of heat stroke on your skin. You decided that you’d take a cold shower before eating. You couldn’t eat much, you had to go back out to the pool and potentially swim after eating. Usually, you’d take forty-five minutes instead of thirty since nobody was watching anyway, but Billy was distracted today and you didn’t want to risk him fucking up because you were being selfish with your break.

You plopped into the wheeling desk chair, sprawling your limbs and taking in the cold air blasting in the room. You let out a satisfied sigh, letting your head fall back and your eyes flutter shut. You could die happy in the air conditioning.

Billy Hargrove was such an ass. You’d never allow yourself to sleep with him. Not that he’d ever want to, you weren’t exactly his type. You were his lab partner that year and you had heard him on more than one occasion telling Tommy about how ‘shrill’ and ‘annoying’ you were. It wasn’t your fault that you weren’t going to sit around and do all the work for the both of you. And it benefited him! His highest grade that year was in fucking science! He thanked you at the end of the semester! Sure, it was a forced and uncomfortable thank you, and you didn’t need to know that it was his highest grade that year, but still! You two should be good! You should be fine! But instead, you were the shrill bitch who tells him what to do at work. God, you didn’t want to be the awful co-worker, the ‘shrill bitch’ that everyone gossiped about and made fun of, but somebody had to take the job seriously! And not seriously like Billy did, who got out his aggression by yelling at kids and threatening to ban them for the most minor infractions, even though the pool didn’t have a banning system period. No, you had to be the boring, mean one who saved lives and got shit done.

Everybody else got to have fun, you just had to work.

You let your head lull towards the window, peaking out at the pool from the half closed blinds. There was a pack of girls around your age surrounding the lifeguard chair, trying to engage Billy in conversation. God, that’s such a safety hazard, how the hell was he supposed to get down quickly in the event of an emergency? He should tell them to move back away from the ladder. Not that he was even paying attention to them; his eyes were on the pool, watching someone swim across the pool with a half smile. He was ignoring the girls, which was expected, but you were glad to see that…wait.

That’s Mrs. Wheeler.

Jesus Christ this guy!

You groaned, pushing yourself up off the chair and heading into the locker rooms, turning on a shower and blasting cold water over yourself. The initial shiver and burn of the freezing water faded fast and soon Billy Hargrove and his stupid thing face were far from your mind. Every one of your senses was heightened by the icy water that was soaking into your skin. You felt utterly refreshed and calm again. He was far from your mind and so was work in general. As your muscles began to slowly unfurl and release tension, your mind led you to the wonderfully comfortable world of the novel you’d left behind.

You were Anne Shirley on that bridge, waiting glumly for her Gilbert to arrive. And there he was-in his silly bloomers and flat cap, white shirt half buttoned and that smarmy look and that stupid mullet and-fuck. Your eyes shot open. God you couldn’t escape him! Billy fucking Hargrove was intruding on your comfortable dreams in rural 1910s Canada. God, it was weird enough that you were fantasizing about rural 1910s Canada, you didn’t dumbass Billy with his ugly ass tattoo creeping in to make it worse.

You turned off the water, checking the numberless clock over the doors leading out into the pool. Your break was just about over anyway. With a heavy sigh, you headed back out into the blinding sun, tightening your ponytail and climbing back into your chair.

You heard a loud blast from the whistle across the pool. “Hey! No running!” Billy barked from across the pool. Most of the people at the pool turned to look at him, except the pudgy kid who’d started running again. The kid didn’t stop this time, his mother gone now, and he barrelled over a little girl. She went down hard. You grabbed the first aid kit off the back of your chair, walking calmly over to the little girl.

“Hi there, are you alright?” you asked, kneeling down next to her. There was blood running down her tiny leg and cheek, two large scraps from the rough deck that made her skin ragged.

The little girl shook her head, sniffling loudly. She was holding back her tears, trying to be brave. It was very cute. “Can I help you?” you asked, offering her a small smile.

“I’m not supposed to talk to strangers…” the little girl muttered, shaking her head with a quivering lip.

“Well, I’m Y/N, I’m a lifeguard here. What’s your name?”

“Sylvia…” she muttered again, wiping her eyes hard with the back of her tiny hand.

“It’s nice to meet you Sylvia. Can I take a look at those cuts?” you asked. The little girl nodded and you opened the kit. You hadn’t noticed that Billy was looming over you, casting a shadow over you.

“You…okay here?” he asked awkwardly, earning your attention briefly.

“Yeah, we’re okay. You wanna go handle that kid? Ban him or something?” you replied, turning your gaze back to the alcohol swab in hand. “Now, this is gonna sting a little, okay? If it hurts too much you can squeeze my hand.” You offered her your spare hand as you wiped the wound gently.

Billy stood there longer than he should have. He knew he looked weird. He knew he should be tearing that fucking kid a new one. But there you were, smiling at some snot nosed kid, letting her squeeze your hand with her grubby little fingers, putting Barbie Band-Aids on her cuts and checking her head for bumps. You looked so…pretty. You had this look on your face; he’d seen it before when you were reading in class, the world tuned out except for the words on the page. Your eyes crinkled in the corners and lit up bright, your lips curled into a smile that creased your cheeks and scrunched your nose. You pulled a lollipop from the kit, and he knew that you had added those yourself, his didn’t have those. You sent the kid on her way, standing up again and brushing the gravel off your knees.

“You get that kid?” you asked, clicking the kit closed.

Billy swallowed “Nah, he wasn’t worth it.” he said smoothly, trying not to cringe. Since when does he give mercy to kids?

You rolled your eyes “The one time I want you to raise hell, you let a kid slide? You’re losing your touch, Hargrove…” you smirked, walking back to your chair. No faster than you turned away, Billy rushed off to kick that kid’s ass.

He never did what anyone told him. He didn’t know why this time it mattered.

The last hour and a half of your shift surprisingly flew by. And when it was time for Billy’s break, you didn’t even mind staying behind to watch the pool. You pulled the lines across the pool by yourself, preparing for the switch to the adult swim. Mike Wheeler and his grubby friends burst in while you were working.

“The pool area is closed right now. Please wait in the change rooms.” You said, not bothering to look over at the group.

“Is my mom still here?” Mike asked with an annoyed sigh.

“She left about an hour ago.” You replied.

“She said she was gonna drive us home!”

“Is Billy here?” a redheaded girl stepped directly into your view. You recognized her vaguely as Billy’s stepsister, you thought her name was Max but you weren’t sure.

“Yeah, he’s still on the clock for another two hours.”

“Fine, we’ll wait.” She snapped.

You finally looked up at the group, all milling around in their street clothes. You sighed “Okay, you can’t be on the deck in your street shoes. And you can’t be here during adult swim. You’re not adults.” You explained boredly. You turned back towards the office, catching sight of Billy spinning around in the desk chair, banging his head to whatever he was playing through his headphones.

“Follow me.” You said, heading towards the office. You didn’t bother to knock on the door, throwing it open without caution or fear. Not that Billy noticed, he was flailing along to what sounded like, through the muffled sound of his headphones, We Are Not Alone from the Breakfast Club movie. It certainly wasn’t the heavy metal that he associated himself with.

“Hargrove.” You got no response; he did another spin and a dramatic kick. You held back a laugh. He looked so silly. Dare you say…cute? That was something you didn’t think you’d ever say.

“Hargrove!” you cried. He pulled off his headphones quickly, practically jumping out of the chair. You swore there was a light blush on his face, although he could plausibly say it was a sunburn.

“What?!?” He snapped.

“You’re um…you’re stepsister is here…she’s looking for a ride home. What do you want me to tell her?” you asked awkwardly, your hand subconsciously coming to your left arm, rubbing your upper arm awkwardly.

Billy’s scowl dropped away, his face draining of colour “Oh shit um…shit it’s like seven, right?” you nodded awkwardly “Fuck…I gotta get her home…shit. Um, I might be late coming back can you just watch for like ten minutes, I’ll be back I just I gotta-”

You cut him off “I can handle the close for tonight, if you wanna just stay there.” You offered against your better judgement. Usually, you’d never offer to take a close. Closing a pool sucks ass. But…he just looked so utterly freaked out. He looked scared.

“You sure? I can come back, gimme like twenty minutes I can-”

“Nah, I can do two more hours. It’s adult swim, nothing happens anyway.” You replied with a shrug. Billy nodded, rushing out of the room and grabbing the nosy redhead, pushing her out.

He didn’t even say thank you.

Fucking dick.

You rolled your eyes. It wouldn’t be that bad. You finished putting out the lines and took your seat at the furthest end of the pool. As always, the usual old people came in and did their laps. The two hours went by incredibly slow and you wished you’d just offered to drive the brats home. But the hours were great and, luckily, the crowd finished their swim thirty minutes before the pool closed and nobody else came in. You closed off the pool and locked the gates, taking your sweet time to milk the extra minutes out of your shift. You left the pool with damp, clean hair and dried out skin.

You came home to an empty house, your mother promising to be home by ten. There were leftovers in the fridge. You were ready to settle in to a night at home. You slicked your skin in lotion and changed into dry, warm clothes. You piled up your dirty clothes and started a load of swimsuits. You wanted to watch a movie, but you hadn’t gone to the video store before work so all you had were your parent’s crappy recordings of movies from their era, which you had no interest in.

You had an empty house and nothing to do. Then it hit you.

You had a joint in your vent. You cousin Casey finally came in clutch. But you couldn’t smoke it in the house. The smell lingered too long, you’d get caught. You grabbed your keys, your purse, and the joint, scribbling at the bottom of your mother’s note that you’d be back by curfew.

You could hide out anywhere. You always chose the same spot though, out by the quarry where death haunted the weak of heart. The rumour was that the dead body found out there two years prior was actually Will Byers and he’d been replaced by a doppelganger. Either way, the area is supposed to be haunted by the dead little boy found there. You weren’t scared of ghosts which meant that you were always the only person out there. It became your little spot.

The drive there was short and sweet, you’d barely made it through the first song on your driving playlist. You parked close to the water’s edge, turning up your stereo and taking a seat on the hood of your car. You always chose the furthest edge of the quarry, where no one would bother you.

A car pulled up too close to you. You could’ve screamed.

And then you recognized the driver.

“Kill me now…”

Billy stumbled out of the car. His knuckles were bleeding. He had a cut under his eye. He looked…fucking pissed.

“Am-scra, freak.” He snapped, not looking over to see who actually was there.

“You scram, asshole, I was here first.” You snapped back, digging through your purse for a lighter, joint held firmly between your teeth.

Billy didn’t move. He took his seat on the hood of his own car, wrapping gauze tightly around his knuckles, knotting it roughly behind his fingers.

You sighed. You didn’t have a lighter. Hargrove did. You scowled turning to him as he struggled with the wrapping around a Band-Aid, losing it into the quarry.

You pulled one from your bag, holding it out to him “I’ll trade you for a light.” He turned to you with a scowl, looking over the scene. He nodded gruffly, pulling his steel lighter from his back pocket and flicking it open. You leaned over, letting the flame burn the end and start off the joint. You passed him the Band-Aid, which he immediately lost into the dirt.

You pulled another from your bag, letting out a puff from the joint before reaching into your bag. You pulled out your last Band-Aid, jumping off the hood.

“This is my last one. Let me do it.” you replied, pulling open the paper and stepping closer. Billy leaned away defiantly. You sighed, pulling the joint from your lips. “Relax, smoke this, I’m not gonna frisk you or anything.” You said, handing him the joint. He took it without another word, not complaining about free drugs.

You carefully pealed back the Band-Aid, sticking it to the delicate skin of his under eye, covering the cut. You smiled at your work, pulling your hands away from his face quickly. You took the joint back, returning to your seat.

Billy stared at you for a beat too long and you noticed. You caught his eye, raising an eyebrow at him. “What’s your problem?” you asked.

“None of your damn business.” He snapped back angrily, defensively.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes “Geez, chill out man. You were the one staring at me…”

Billy turned away dramatically, crossing his arms over his chest. You noticed for the first time that evening that he was still in his work clothes. You averted your gaze quickly, not wanting to get caught.

Billy spoke first. He didn’t have to, but he did. “Why are you so fucking nice to everyone?” he asked, almost whispering.

“What’d you mean?” you asked, keeping your eyes trained on the smooth, still water pooled just a foot from your feet.

“You helped some kid with a scraped knee, you saved the dumb kid who fell in, you helped me twice, you helped Karen Wheeler-” he listed off bitterly.

“Okay, one: helping those kids is literally our job. And helping you…well, you needed the help and watching you try to open a Band-Aid with your messed up hand was kind of pathetic.” You replied with a laugh. Billy rolled his eyes, turning away from you slightly.

“And…I didn’t exactly help Mrs. Wheeler. I needed her to go away so I could yell at you. She could report me and get me fired if she saw me being pissy with her favourite lifeguard.” You added, looking away.

“Karen wouldn’t do that.” He replied, looking over to you again “You gonna bogart that?” he asked, reaching out for the joint.

“Didn’t think I was sharing.” You passed it to him nonetheless.

“You can’t finish it on your own. I’m helping you.” He took a long drag, coughing on the end as the smoke filled his lungs. “This is shit.”

“It’s better than what Tommy buys.” You replied with a shrug.

“Tommy has shit taste.” He passed it back to you.

You took a long drag, finding courage in the cloudy feeling in your brain to ask a question burning in the back of your mind.

“So what the fuck is up with you and Mrs. Wheeler? Are you actually screwing her or is she just making a scene everyday for no reason?”

Billy chuckled “I’m not telling you.”

You made a face “That’s so fucking gross…she’s your stepsister’s friend’s mom, man. She’s got like three kids.”

Billy’s cocky look slipped away “I know, Y/N.”

“And you still want to screw her? Dude, that’s nasty.”

“I never said I wanted to screw her.”

You gasped loudly “Billy, do I need to call the cops?”

“No! Jesus, Y/N…” he groaned, slapping the hood of his car with a frustrated look “Look, I’m not fucking screwing her.”

“Ohhhh….”

“You tell anyone that and I’ll fucking kill you.” He warned, leaning over to get in your face. You hadn’t realized how close you two were until that moment. You’d both subconsciously moved as close as you could to one another, each of your spare legs hanging off the side, close enough to kick each other but far enough to not have to awkwardly touch.

“Got it, dude. Not like anyone would believe me. You’ve proved yourself to be believed on that front.” You muttered, silently puffing away.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked. He sounded sadder than you expected him to ever sound.

“I mean…everyone in school knows that you’re this…this macho man, de-virginator or some shit,” Billy burst out laughing and you blushed crimson, turning away. “I’m serious! Everyone knows that you get whoever you want.”

“I’ve never gotten you.” He said with a shrug.

“Yeah well I’m a ‘shrill bitch’, remember? Not exactly worth much bragging rights wise.” You countered. Billy didn’t reply, he looked out at the quarry silently.

“Nobody said that.”

“Nobody had to, Hargrove, I hear what you and your friends say. You don’t have to pretend that I’m some prize.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I’ve literally heard you and Tommy laugh about annoying I am, how I’m shrill and shit. Don’t play stupid.”

Billy didn’t reply immediately, pulling his knees up to his chest.

“I don’t think you’re shrill. You’re a bitch sometimes, but you’re not shrill.” He said quietly.

“Thanks?”

“I mean…you’re cool. You’re good at your job and you’re nice to everyone and you’re hot and you’re smart and shit. You’re chill. Fuck Heather and her friends if they say shit.” He said to the quarry instead of you.

You smiled softly “Thanks, Hargrove…you’re not too terrible either.”

Billy chuckled “Thanks…”

You were both silent for a moment, staring out at the lake. Billy spoke first. “If I don’t tell anyone about it, can I kiss you?”

You furrowed your brow “Why would you want to?” you asked incredulously.

“Why wouldn’t I?” he shot back. You didn’t have an answer to that question. You dropped off the hood of your car, walking up in between his knees, wrapping your hands around his neck.

“You tell anyone about this and I’ll tell everyone about you and Wheeler.” You said, unable to hide the little twinge of nerves in your voice.

He smiled cockily “Deal.” He pulled you down to him by your neck, pressing his mouth to your demandingly, pressing himself up against you and wrapping a free hand around your lower back, fingertips inching towards your ass. Every inch of him was made of fire and it was catching every one of your nerves, igniting them. Your fingers dug into his curls and your nails scraped his scalp. You let out a whimper as his teeth dug into your lower lip and you tugged on his curls.

You broke the kiss first, pressing your palms into his chest and taking a deep, slow breath. He smirked up at you and you found yourself smiling back.

“Friends?” he asked cockily, pressing the joint into your half open mouth.

“Sure…” you breathed out, taking a long drag off the joint.

[elevenharringtons]

Babysitting El pt. 1

Pairing: None (but leading into a bit of Steve x Reader) 

Summary: Hopper, exasperated by having to deal with monsters invading Hawkins and having a teenage girl, has asked you to come babysit while he investigates for the night. Max shows up (unannounced, to you at least) and proposes a mall day to cheer everyone up. However, things don’t go as planned, and you find yourself an accomplice to Mike and El’s breakup. 

Warnings: Profanity

Word Count: 3.3k

This is a two-parter! This part is based on El and Max’s shopping trip. It’s not exact, considering El was the one to seek Max out, but nonetheless, you’ll read some familiar scenarios. Just some good ol’ girl time and bonding over stupid boys. Part Two should be out sooner rather than later, considering all the time that has suddenly found itself on my doorstep. Stay safe out there, y’all. 

***UPDATE: There will be a taglist for the second part, so if you’d like to be on it, let me know! 

“I’ll be there.”

“If that Wheeler kid shows up here one more time-“

“Calm down! She’s a young woman now, she’s doing what she’s supposed to be doing” you say, twirling the yellowed telephone cable between your fingers. This is the third time this week that your uncle has called you upset that El was dating the second youngest Wheeler. Hopper hadn’t necessarily been on good terms with Mike, considering he found ways around Hopper’s rules, especially rules that were crafted for Eleven’s safety. Grumbling ensues on the other line.

“What time are you going to be here?”

“8 o’clock,” you reply almost confidently.

“Sharp?”

“8 o’clock...ish?” Hopper was good at seeing through your facades. Your mother was a pro at being fashionably late to things, a habit that you’re not too happy that you picked up. “You know it takes at least 15 minutes to get back to Hawkins, and then at least another 20 to remember which turn into the woods I have to take to find your cabin-“

“Save it. Just...promise me you’ll take care of this?” Hopper pleaded. You could hear someone rapping on the door in the background and assumed it was Mike trying to get back in to see El.

“I’ll do what I can. Bye, Uncle Hop.” You hear indistinct chatter on the line before it cuts to a dial tone and chuckle to yourself, continuing to pack a small overnight bag full of clothes and other essentials needed to ‘babysit’ Eleven. Hopper had to deal with a special assignment that you had specifically chosen not to ask him about, knowing it must be a continuation of the strange events that kept happening in Hawkins the past two years. Your mission was to stay with El until Hopper returned, however, now that El was a teenager, that was no easy task. Boys, best friends, and fighting intergalactic monsters had El in more directions than you remember when you were her age. Then again, you didn’t have to deal with the intergalactic monster part.

The morning drive wasn’t as bad as you thought it was going to be. Surprisingly, you remembered exactly where to turn into the woods to find Hopper’s cabin. The ground was wet from a rain storm the night before as you tried your best to maneuver your mom’s old Buick through the slippery terrain. El was standing outside on Hopper’s porch, her eyes lighting up for a quick second before diminishing again. She turned and headed back inside the cabin before you had the chance to get out of the car. Hopper met you at the door.

“What’s her deal?” You ask, closing the car door and moving to the trunk to grab your backpack.

“I, uh, may have had a hand in that,” Hopper replied.

“What’d you do”

“Joyce told me to have a talk with her and Mike, but instead, I told Mike that his grandmother was sick and that he should go be with her instead of with El,” Hopper couldn’t meet your stare. You laughed out loud.

“Seriously, Uncle Hop?”

“She doesn’t know!”

“And what made you think that was a good idea? What advice did Joyce give you that made you do that? Couldn’t have been that bad, it’s Joyce!” You’re leaning against the car door, arms crossed over your chest. You weren’t letting your uncle off that easy before he left you with a moody teenager.

“She just said to set some ground rules, to talk to them,”

“The three inch rule?” You quip.

“Well, El doesn’t always adhere to the three inch rule, that’s why I had to do something about it,” Hopper replied.

“So telling Mike Wheeler that his grandmother was sick even though she isn’t is how you’re handling this?”

“Why do you think you’re here?”

“Oh, so I’m the diffusion? She needs to be a teenager, Uncle Hop! Explore! Kiss a guy! Kiss a girl if she wants to! Fall in love! Get her heart broken! You were a teenager once, weren’t you?” You say. Out of the corner of your eye, El reappeared on the porch.

“Y/N?”

“Hi, El!” You smile and wave as El does the same. Hopper runs his hand over his face before leading you to the cabin. He grumbles under his breath as you walk.

“Look, just make sure she doesn’t do anything stupid. No one can find her out here, it’s dangerous.”

“I’ve got it under control, Hopper. She won’t leave my sight,” You assure him as you walk up the stairs to wrap El in a hug. Hopper watched as the both of you headed inside the cabin before starting his truck up and driving away.

“So, Hopper has you on some…guidelines, huh?” You say once the door is closed, taking in the cabin. It wasn’t as messy as you would have guessed it to be, definitely not like the lake house that you had practically grown up in. You put your bag down on Hopper’s armchair before leaning against the couch, watching El as she paced around.

“Guidelines?” She asked.

“Oh, um, rules. Like how he won’t let you out past a certain hour?”

“Or how he doesn’t let Mike over,” El nervously played with her hands. She was still pacing, clearly worried that Mike had abandoned her.

“Hey,” you say softly. “He doesn’t hate Mike, you know? He just…isn’t ready for you to grow up yet.” El was trying to take in what you were saying, but a knock was at the door causing the both of you to jump. El looks to you for permission to open the door, which you grant. She gets up and crosses to the door, standing on tip toes to peer into the peephole.

“It’s Max,” El says, almost disappointed.

“You can let her in,” you say. The door swings open to reveal the fiery red head, who doesn’t stay outside long.

“Lucas dropped all of our plans today for some family thing he forgot last minute,” she says. “So I told him that we were on a break.”

“A break?” El asks.

“Yeah. Like not a break up but you want to break up? Kind of?” Max says. You stare wide eyed at the two of them.

“I’m sorry, you told Lucas you wanted to take a break because he had to do something with his family?” You ask.

“Look, he pulls this last minute shit all the time. He’s probably at home playing with his stupid walkie talkie or at Mike’s. It’s better to take a minute to show him that I’m mad by taking a break than to dump his ass altogether,” she plops herself into Hopper’s armchair and right on top of your stuff without missing a beat. El sits stiffly beside you on the couch.

“Mike’s grandmother is sick, so he’s probably not at Mike’s,” you say, trying to go along with Hopper’s false narrative as truthfully as you could. Max rolls her eyes.

“Sounds like some last minute bullshit to me.”

“Last minute,” El says thoughtfully. “Mike didn’t call this morning.”

“Then dump his ass,” Max says matter-of-factly. “He keeps you on the line way too much for you to keep putting up with that.”

“I don’t think it’s Mike’s fault,” you say under your breath. Max doesn’t hear you.

“Dump his ass?” El questions.

“He’s obviously hiding something from you. Don’t put up with it,” Max shrugs.

“Nobody’s dumping anyone. Look, you can’t just break someone’s heart because they can’t do something with you,” you say. You may not have a lot of experience in the dating department,  but you also could recognize human mistakes from lies. Plus, you had your uncle’s fake storyline standing over your shoulder, so it was best that El not make any hasty decisions.

“I’m just saying, El, you could do a lot better,” Max says. “In the meantime, though, we should give you a makeover and show him what he’s missing. Let’s go to the mall!”

“Whoa, El’s not allowed out. You know that,” you say, standing now between El and Max’s line of vision.

“Hopper’s not here is he? Plus, you’re here. Nothing bad can happen if you’re with us,” Max retorts. She had a point. Having an adult around two teenagers in a mall cramped their style, automatically making them less of a target to the bad guys. Right?

“Technically, I’m not supposed to have you here,” you reply. Max rolled her eyes.

“Y/N, can we please go to the mall?” El asks. Her shimmering brown eyes are enough to make you cave. She knew just how to push your buttons.

“Fine,” you say, “but you guys can’t leave my sight.”

“Deal,” Max and El say together as they race outside to your car.

“I said don’t leave my sight!” You yell, running after them. How bad could this be?

**********

Two hours later and you’ve become the stereotypical pack-mule “boyfriend” to your two teenaged counterparts. Max had insisted El buy a new wardrobe to make Mike jealous, so her muddied shoes and ragged plaid shirt were stuffed in a tiny bag from The Gap while Max made El try on several brightly colored combos. Then, El wanted Glamour Shots, so you watched as her and Max put on oversized pearls and lavish feathered hats, posing ridiculously for the camera. You’d bought each of them a keychain sized version of their favorite picture, adding another bag to your hand. Max had careened into JC Penney without your knowledge, taking El with her through the winding racks of aerobics wear and puffy jacket vests. You managed to find them, though, because Max was trying on bright red sunglasses in the mirrors right next to the entrance.

“What did I tell you about running off?” You say. Before Max could protest, El had walked out in a black romper with neon shapes plastered all over it. She was stumbling around on two inch heels, her stark white socks making it obvious that she’d never worn anything else besides sneakers. However, the smile on her face distracted you from the fact that she could fall and break her ankle at any moment. She stopped to pose in the mirror before turning to you.

“What do you think, Y/N?”

“I think it’s a winner. You look beautiful, El,” you say, her grin growing wider. Chastising them for running off could be saved until later. Or until something actually~ happened.

“That’ll show those stupid boys not to mess with you!” Max exclaimed.

“Maybe not in those heels, though,” you say, choosing to ignore Max’s comment. Not that you were doubling back on your whole “give Mike another chance” mantra, just that you didn’t want to ruin El’s confidence. You motion for Max to help you get the heels off of El before slipping her new Nikes back on her feet.

“Can I wear this out instead?” El asks.

“And ditch those cute yellow suspenders?” You quip.

“Come on, Y/N!” Max joined in. “What’s another bag? Another swipe of the old Visa?”

“This is the last time I bring you out shopping,” you sigh, watching as the two girls squealed, jumping up and down like they were front row at a concert. Max agrees to gather El’s other outfit from the dressing room while you take El to the register to pay. Then, you’re off again into the bustle of the Starcourt Mall. As you’re walking out, though, you spy Mike and Lucas, along with Will Byers, stepping out of a jewelry store in a heated discussion. Max and El giggled beside you, blissfully unaware that you had just caught both of their “men” doing the exact opposite of what they should be. You silently curse Mike for being this stupid. You careen then girls onto the down escalator.

“Where are we going?” Max asks.

“I saw a food court downstairs. Figured we’d go refuel for a little bit,” you say, not entirely sure the girls would fall for it.

“Oooo, can we get ice cream?” Max replied.

Mission accomplished.

That was until you had taken your eye off them for two seconds after looking at the time on the big yellow clock in the center of the food court. Max had taken El by the hand and bounded down the escalator, into the sailor themed eatery, Scoops Ahoy. You pushed through a group of teenagers balancing ice cream cones, finding the two girls receiving ice cream from a brunette boy in a ridiculous bright blue uniform. You couldn’t shake the familiarity of his face, like something you had seen in dreams. It wasn’t until you were inside of the shop, shivering from the slight temperature change, and smelling the sweetness of the treats before the name had come to you.

“Thanks, Steve!” Max said as she and El grabbed a strawberry and vanilla cone from the boy’s hands, blissfully unaware of your presence as they enjoyed their treats.

Steve Harrington. A name you hadn’t heard since you were in grade school. You remember him being the troublemaker, the one who had stolen your new pack of crayons when you weren’t looking and the one who was every teacher’s nightmare. But you also remembered him being the sweetheart. The boy who stood up for you when Tommy H was making fun of your bangs in second grade. The boy who tried to kiss you on the cheek by the swings when no one was looking. The last time you saw Steve Harrington was when your parents’ moving van was careening carefully down Main Street as you all were moving cities once you completed fifth grade. Steve was riding his bike, stopping in front of Melvald’s General Store before locking it to a rack and walking inside. Since then, Steve had become a memory, someone who would appear every once in a while as a nameless face in a dream.

You stood speechless at the counter, his back turned to you as he cleaned the ice cream scoops before meeting his next customer. There was no way he was going to remember you, your mind was racing. Years of never even thinking of him and here you were a nervous wreck. And for what? Shaking thoughts from your head, you reached into your bag to pull out three dollars for the girls’ dessert. The sound of change clanging on the counter caused him to turn. Shit.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that. They come here all the time.”

You looked up to meet his brown eyes, hands still nervously reaching for the change that had fallen out of your hands. You watched as something in his mind clicked.

“Y/N?”

“That’s me,” you reply, shoving the money back into your bag, trying to avoid an awkward conversation that probably neither of you wanted. “Sorry that they ran in here like that.”

“Jesus, how long has it been? What brings you to town?” Guess he wanted an awkward conversation.

“Oh, my uncle, he, uh, wanted me to come watch El for him while he figures out…you know, normal Hawkins police stuff.” God, why are you like this??

“How long are you here?” Steve asked, catching you completely off guard.

“I mean, I only packed an overnight bag,” you say.

“Oh, cool,” Steve replies. The spark that was in his eyes when you’d first connected had vanished.

“But, uh, Hopper never said when he was coming back, so, maybe the weekend?” You tell him, watching the corner of his mouth curl into a smile.

“Would you maybe want to catch up sometime? Like, tonight after I get off?” Steve asks. You could feel your cheeks getting hot. It was your turn to smile now. Instinct struck, though, as you turned away from him and noticed El and Max were gone from the place that they were sitting not too long ago.

“Uh, yeah, sure. I have to…go. Because the girls are…yeah. I’ll come here tonight,” you ramble as you rush out the front towards the escalator.

“See you…later,” Steve called after you. You waved a hand as you bounded up the escalator past several angry mall-goers. You couldn’t even process that you were having a “date” with someone that you hadn’t seen since elementary school, someone that you subconsciously always thought about. If you couldn’t find El, though, it would be your ass. You could already hear Hopper yelling at you at length over the phone when you spot Max’s slender frame standing out front with a melting ice cream cone in her hand. She was watching something, hopefully something to do with El, but you couldn’t figure out why Max wasn’t standing right next to El. Then it hit you.

El found Mike.

You pushed through the front door as quietly as one could push through a heavy glass door. Max’s expression went from supportive to nervous wreck once she had laid eyes on you. The “why did you run out of my sight you dumb idiots” conversation could wait a few minutes. You heard Mike trying to come up with a good excuse as to why he was out at the mall with his friends when El’s quiet voice cut through the palpable tension.

“I dump your ass.”

Max chuckled, mouth agape in surprise. You tried to keep your composure, especially considering you had told the girls not to just dump the boys over “nothing”, but you were proud of El for sticking up for herself. Mike, Lucas, and Will were stoic as El turned dramatically, hair bouncing, arm linking with Max. You heard the boys mumble to themselves as you ushered the girls away from the mall and into your car. In the rearview mirror, you watched as Max gave El a high five, offering to switch ice cream cones with her.

“Don’t think I haven’t forgot that you all ran away from me,” you half-smile. Their faces fell. “I’m not mad.” You scramble to say, just to bring that little bit of happiness back to them.

“Look, we got ice cream and then caught two lying ass boys. It’s not our fault that we fell behind flirting with the sailor boy,” Max said under her breath, taking a bite of El’s ice cream. Your cheeks grew hotter than they were in Scoops Ahoy.

“I wasn’t flirting…”

“Oh, please, I had to sit through weeks of watching El flirt with Mike. I think I know what flirting is,” Max said.

“How did you even-“

“We were sitting in a booth practically behind you. Then El saw Mike and I had to chase after her. You’re welcome, by the way. I should get some of the money that Hopper is giving you for watching her.”

“First of all, I’m not getting paid. Second, thanks, I guess?” You shake your head. “Plus, my love life is not something we should be discussing right now. Didn’t you both just dump your boyfriends?”

“Boys are stupid,” El said matter-of-factly. She wasn’t wrong. Max gave El another high five as they switched ice cream cones again.

“So are you going on a date with Harrington or not?” Max asked.

“Yes, but-“

“Great! I’ll spend the night, and El and I will help you get ready,” she said. El nodded in response, too enticed by her ice cream to give verbal recognition.

“I thought you were against boys?” By now, you had turned down the pathway to Hopper’s cabin. You put the car in park, turning to look at the two girls in the back seat.

“Those boys. Helping you nab Harrington is a different story.” Max said, grabbing her JC Penney bag and bounding out of the car. You helped El carry all of her belongings into the cabin before plopping it into Hopper’s armchair.

“Makeover?” El asked once everyone was inside and settled.

“Oh, yeah,” Max replied. They each took your hands and led you to the bathroom.

What were you about to get into?