#argyle would cheer him on

[your-stranger-halfblood-things]

Jonathan: Welcome to the "Fuck Steve Support Group"

Jonathan: A group dedicated to yelling "fuck Steve"

Argyle: I'm here because he punched my boyfriend

Eddie, sweating: I think I misunderstood the point of this club-

[chelseeebe]

just a taste

18+. mdni. smut. kinda perv!eddie x fem!reader. he is a lil freaky in this i'll admit.

a/n: i just love the idea of the citrus six all living together lol idk i think it’s so nice also i have never watched cheers i just googled 1991 american tv shows and picked one at random LMAO ++ for the movie, i thought it’d be a nice lil easter egg for them to watch something with winona in:,)

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

eddie doesn’t know who you are or why you’re coming to visit or why exactly it was him that was being made to vacate his room for the two weeks that you were here. 

“c’mon eddie,” robin pleads, nay, demands, “you sleep on the couch most nights anyway, what’s the difference?” 

“uh, maybe because it’s my room? i don’t want some random girl in there touching my stuff,” almost flabbergasted that she’s even asking. 

“she’s not a random girl,” robin frowns, “she’s my friend and she needs somewhere to stay.” 

“tell her there’s a great hotel in town,” rolling his eyes, trying to leave the conversation before she breaks out the puppy dog eyes. "i'll even give her a ride if you ask nicely," no longer interested in entertaining this conversation.

“i’ll give you fifty bucks,” robin deadpans, using her last resort.

this was bribery of the highest order but eddie's not stupid. fifty bucks is fifty bucks.

“now?” 

she sighs, sliding her wallet from her pocket to reluctantly hand over the bill. she stops just before it touches his palm, “promise you’ll clean your room.” 

eddie goes to grab the paper but robin’s faster, jolting her hand into the air, “and change your sheets.” 

“okay,” he huffs, holding his palm outstretched. 

she graciously places the note down, smiling wickedly as she does so before skipping off back to her own room. 

he can only roll his eyes, turning around to the shit hole that was his room, wondering if fifty dollars was worth having to tackle it. 

-

eddie’s sat on the couch when you arrive, barely looking back as robin begins to fuss, talking loudly about your journey. he doesn’t really care enough to involve himself, besides, elvis presley had just given sam a very important message. 

“eddie,” robin hisses, standing in front of the screen, “don’t be rude, say hello,” her hands firmly on her hips like she was his mother or something. 

he looks up at the looming figure by the couch, hoping his eyes hadn’t given his immediate shock away too much. 

you flash him a sheepish smile back, waggling your fingers in a short wave. 

two weeks on the couch didn’t seem so bad now. 

not if you were sleeping in his bed. 

it’s just a shame that he wouldn’t be in there sharing it. 

“hey,” he stands, hoping to indiscreetly catch his breath, “i’m- uh, i’m eddie,” offering his hand out, though he regrets it as soon as it’s done. 

who shakes hands now? christ. he needed to get a grip, and badly. 

“hey,” you reply, your name dripping from your tongue. though you do shake his hand, not bothering to hide your confusion in the process. 

“eddie very kindly said you could have his room,” a bright, big sarcastic smile on her lips. 

“yeah.. no biggie..” christ, he’s almost panting. “do whatever you want in there.. or you know, just- just make yourself at home.” 

his desperate pleas for the earth to split open and swallow him whole go unanswered. instead, robin shoots him a concerned glare before ushering you away from his weird, longing gaze. 

'pull it together loser' she mouths before disappearing, leaving him to reflect upon how utterly hard he had just fumbled that entire situation. 

-

when everyone’s home from work and you’ve exchanged niceties and greetings with the rest of the house, robin brightly suggests a movie. 

eddie usually hated movie nights in the house. 

jonathan would want to watch some indie cult classic that no one else had ever heard of, steve wanted to watch some dumb comedy that only he’d find funny and then nancy and robin typically opted for the romance genre. 

leaving eddie and argyle with absolutely no choice but to sit in silence as they bickered. 

tonight it’s different, you get to pick. 

and now he’s not saying that whatever you choose will forever change the way he views you but.. well, that’s actually exactly it. 

you land on edward scissorhands. 

not the worst choice you could’ve made, and hey, his mom used to call him edward when he was in real bad trouble. 

in the end, it doesn’t really matter what you had picked because eddie can’t muster up enough energy to actually care about the film. not while your thighs are peeking out from underneath your oversized shirt. he can’t help but wonder what they’d feel like wrapped around his ears. what previous sounds would fall out of your mouth in response.

at some point during the movie, you stand up and walk out of the room to the kitchen but that doesn’t stop him. staring through the open door, marvelling at the way the hem of your shirt lifts, exposing the tiny shorts you had on underneath. 

he’s practically hanging over the back of the couch to get a look, craning his neck at a ninety degree angle just to get a glimpse of your soft, pillowy skin. pinching himself as he tries to resist the urge to just sink his teeth into your inner thigh.

robin jabs her elbow into his ribcage, drawing his eyes back to the room with a grunt and a harsh glare thrown her way. 

“you’ve been staring at her all night,” she whispers angrily into his ear, “stop it, or next time it’s your balls,” a harsh warning he didn’t find entirely necessary. 

you sidle back into the room, drink in hand and eddie can’t help but let his eyes wander over again, short glances that robin hopefully wouldn’t pick up on. 

he can’t help it, some magnetic force swaying his gaze in your direction. he wishes so badly that he could just crawl out of his head and tell you how much he wanted you. 

unfortunately for eddie, he’d instead spend the night dreaming of your ass and all the ways he could have you if he’d only grow a backbone. 

-

living alongside you is an entirely new feat eddie’s not sure he’ll survive. 

it’s torturous. 

testing the limits of how ridiculously horny one man can get without self-imploding. 

so close and yet so far. each night you’d tuck yourself into his bed, doing god knows what in between his sheets all without eddie getting a look in.

of course he’d made up a hundred different scenarios to fall asleep to each night. 

his favourite being the one where he walks into his bedroom to find you mouth open, legs apart, too encapsulated in your pleasure to notice him. only until you do, inviting him closer, between those supple thighs of yours, a forbidden nirvana he’ll never get to know. 

though more often than not he’s cruelly forced back into reality by robin ripping the curtains open at the ass crack of dawn, blaring sunlight on his face as you slip away from the grapples of his dream land. 

now is his opportunity, the house quiet, bar the muffled giggles of you and robin upstairs. he’s safe for now, he thinks, rather foolishly. it’s late, the rest of them asleep or too busy in their own rooms to catch him in the act. 

eddie’s never done anything like this before. it’s disgusting, perverted to the core. 

good grief, this is prosecutable behaviour. 

tiptoeing down the hall to his room, the door open just a crack, enticing him in further. he can still hear you on the floor above, giving him enough confidence to push it open a little more, edging inside with a quick glance back down the hall, just in case. 

gratefully it seemed that you were just as messy as he was, your clothes strewn across the floor. his eyes immediately turning to the peeking of lace from under the pile. glancing one last time at the cracked door, ensuring that absolutely nobody would see him. 

reaching down to gather the fabric in one quick swoop, bunching them in his palm as he lets out a quick sigh of relief. 

oh fuck. they were so soft, fingers spreading to really get a feel. he wasn't even going to take them, he'd just wanted a little look, something to help his overactive imagination get all the important details right.

“what are you doing?” startling him in this precarious position, the lace of your underwear entangled around his fingertips. 

eddie freezes, he can feel the heat rising through his chest, all the way up to the tips of his ears. scarlet red. 

“uh.. i..i-i don’t know..” he hasn’t done anything like this before, he swears. 

your mouth is open in a sort of half-smirk, half-perplexed gawp, closing the door before he could bolt. 

you move around the mess, creeping closer until he can feel you brushing against his side, peering over into his hand. 

“oh wow..” you remark, breath hot and sweet against his cheek, “what were you gonna do with those?” 

eddie feels sick, trying not to projectile vomit across his room. there’s no way you wouldn’t tell robin. fuck. he could hear you now, voice full of disgust, robin laughing at how pathetic he was. 

“n-nothing i swear..” stumbling through his sentence, “i was just..” excuses fail to come to mind, “i was uhm.. looking for something,” the absolute best his flustered mind to muster up. 

“oh really?” reaching around to untangle them from his hand, “you sure about that?” 

there’s no anger to your voice, but he doesn’t dare turn around to look at your face. afraid of what he’ll find. your eyes pitying, sad that he has to root around your dirty laundry to get off. 

“i’m- i’m sure,” though the crack in his voice gives him away. 

you hum, coming around to stand in front of his gormless face, “so you don’t wanna keep these?” holding the evidence up to his face, the hem just barely grazing his cheek. 

eddie’s knees almost buckle, his breath shuddering as any semblance of composure he had left, floats right out the window. 

“here,” reaching forward to tuck the baby blue fabric into the waistband of his sweatpants, your eyes never once leaving his as you do so. “you keep those.. but next time just ask, okay?” 

he nods like an obedient dog, lapping up the scraps you were throwing him. he could stand here all night long, keeping up the weird little power game you’d started. 

“goodnight eddie,” you smile, giving him a gentle nudge, a sign for him to get the fuck out. 

you were the master, he was just the lap dog, eager to please. 

-

at breakfast the next morning, he struggles to even keep his eyes open. having spent an embarrassingly long amount of time on the couch last night shamelessly sniffing the lace you’d gifted him. 

you don’t even acknowledge it, or him for that matter. happily chatting along with nancy about some news article. 

“oh and eddie,” robin begins, flashing him a stern look, “i don’t appreciate finding your fucking panties in between the couch cushions,” 

he chokes on his mouthful, his knife clattering against the table in shock. a multitude of eyes turn to stare at the spectacle he was making. 

“they’re- they’re not mine,” clearing his throat as he clears his name, though he doesn’t dare look in your direction, terrified that he’d absolutely lose his mind if he did. 

“well whoever’s they are, i don’t care, stop leaving them on the couch.. i’m sure our guest doesn’t want to sit amongst dirty underwear,” she bites, calming down now she had gotten her point across. 

if only she knew. 

eddie must’ve fallen asleep with them still attached to his hand, thanking his lucky stars that no one had walked in on him with them pressed to his nose.  

he keeps his head low, focusing on the plate in front of him. nothing had ever been as mortifying as this. not even the time he had slipped off the dinner table in the middle of the cafeteria. 

cutlery scrapes and clinks against the china, uncomfortable silence until argyle clears his throat, “gnarly meal robin, thanks dude,” seemingly settling the tense atmosphere, for now. 

everybody hums in agreement, getting back to their food without another word. but your eyes peek up, meeting his with an indescribable glint. and really, the worst part is that eddie would sit through this horrific situation a hundred more times, just for one more measly sniff at your panties. 

-

eddie can’t take it anymore. 

he’s never been so pent up in his entire life. and he’s tried to hold on until he could move back into his room but he couldn’t last any longer. 

but he’s careful, waiting for everyone to trundle on off to bed, listening carefully for the muted click of the light switch and even then, waiting another hour to be sure. 

the clock glares an alarming 1:04 by the time his belt clinks and his jeans come down, the first of them would be awake in just a few hours, ready to take you on to the airport. 

he wishes it would’ve played out differently, that he wouldn’t be sat here on the last night of your stay alone. but alas, eddie’s never been particularly brave and especially not in regards to hot women. 

your panties wrapped around his right hand as he spits on his left, wrapping around his stiff cock while his fingertips play with the lace in his other hand. 

“ohh fuck,” he hisses, wanting nothing more than to start hollering the house down. 

robin wouldn’t be too pleased if she ever found out what he’d done. and he can’t really afford to get the entire couch dry-cleaned so he really must be careful. 

thinking quick, he shoves his t-shirt into his mouth, muffling the chorus of grunts and groans threatening to spill over into the dark room. the muted light from the tv illuminates his face, breathing loudly through his nose 

he hadn’t heard the door open or the soft sound of your feet padding down the hall, only made aware of your presence when he reopens his eyes, near enough jumping out of his bones. 

how long had you been there watching him shudder and whine?

“fuck,” he exclaims, fist still wrapped tight around his throbbing cock, too aroused to care about it too much. 

“you want some help with that?” 

eddie looks at his dick, then back at you, mouth hung open in a mixture of awe and confusion. 

it’s not very clear but you move closer anyway, sinking to your knees and nestling in between his spread legs. 

“okay?” maintaining eye contact despite how difficult it was, eyes bright and eager. 

he nods, unable to comprehend what was happening. knowing he’d wake up from this twisted dream to some soggy boxers and a whole lotta shame. 

your palm wraps around the base of his cock, shooing his hands away to make room, smiling as your lips wrap around the already leaking tip. were you a psychopath? were you placed on this earth to goad and tease him?

this isn’t real. this isn’t real. the voice repeats around his head though it’s quickly silenced by your tongue swirling circles around the tip of his cock, readjusting his t-shirt to bite down harshly on the fabric. 

eddie’s hands lay useless on his thighs, twitching to intertwine with your hair, still doubting the reality of the situation. this could all be a dream and the second he touches your hair, you’d disappear from in front of his eyes.

the t-shirt falls from his lips, “fuuck,” grunting into the tense air, gritting his teeth so as to not expose your precarious position to the rest of the house. 

the wet sounds of your lips wrapped tight around his cock make his toes curl, his hands find your hair, not without prompting from you. tugging gently at the tendrils as his head starts to spin. 

when your eyes look up to meet his, eddie thinks he might just cum right down your throat then and there. he can see that troublesome glint in your eye, a roaring fire that he so desperately wants to keep stoking. 

your fingers slide up his thigh, finding his neglected balls and with a slight smirk, you grab ahold, gently fondling them as his brain melts out of his ears. 

no one had ever, ever made him feel so good. collectively losing brain cells when you hum on his cock, getting just as much out of this as he was. 

“oh yeah, fuck- shit fuck, i’mcummingi’mcummingi’mcumming,” eddie’s mouth rushes, louder than he ever should’ve been. bright flashes of light fill his peripheral, using your scalp as leverage to keep himself on the couch. 

his hips stutter, thrusting into your mouth with his fingers tight in your hair, yanking harshly in an effort to get your lips off of him before he came everywhere. 

you don’t budge, nails digging into his thigh as his release seeps down your throat, his eyes squeezing shut as his fist instinctively comes up to muffle his mouth, moaning into his clammy palm instead of alerting the entire house. 

eddie’s other hand lets go of his strong hold on your hair, allowing you to get off of his dick, panting happily as you sit up between his knees and with lips glistening with his release, you kiss him. all soft and gentle while his brain fails to compute. 

it should be gross. but eddie just can’t find it in himself to care, because in reality, this was the hottest thing that had ever happened in his measly little life. 

“please let me taste you,” he begs between kisses, grasping desperately at your waist, the fabric of your shirt slipping between his desperate fingers.

you giggle, pulling back to look at him through the dimmed light, “not now,” you hover just above, constantly teasing and unobtainable

“well when?" jutting his bottom lip out in hopes it'd convince you to change your mind.

"when i'm back," letting him down gently. eddie'd count the seconds till you came back if that was what it took to get even a tiny glimpse of your pussy.

“what time do you leave?” he pants, chasing your lips. eddie was nothing if not a chancer, though if it hadn't happened already, there's a miniscule chance of it happening now.

“seven,” whispering back, a hint of annoyance that this build up had only crescendoed now, just as you were about to leave. he'll blame robin for that, poking her nose in and trying to turn him off. it shouldn't have worked. he should've been braver.

“but it’s your turn,” an awful sadness and regret overcoming him. someone better, someone like steve, would've had you pinned to that couch by now, his head between your thighs and your slick dripping down his chin.  

“next time,” only repeating yourself, smiling coyly before you plant one last kiss to his longing lips before standing fully upright and disappearing back off to his room, leaving him reeling with a story nobody else would ever believe.

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

part two to this little thing 'cause i saw these tags on the last part from @stevesjester and actually kicked my feet and giggled about it

After Pretty Boy kissed him, Eddie walked back to the staff break room in a daze.

His slow lumbering gait still managed to scare some folks, though, so that’s a plus.

He opens the door, slowly turns to close it softly, and leans back against it once it is.

“Eddie? You okay?” Comes a voice he’d know anywhere. “Wait, that is you, right? You’re supposed to be Piggy Man tonight?”

Eddie pulls the rubber mask off, making his stomach flip thinking about the last time it was pulled up. You know, ‘cause he’s a sap.

Chrissy takes in his shocked, sweaty face, “Oh my god, you okay? What happened?”

He looks up at his roommate (best friend, sister) in her bloody cheerleader costume, an ironic holdout from their time in high school, and breathes a laugh, “I fell in love.”

“OMG OMG tell me everything right now!!” Chrissy bounces over to him excitedly and pulls him down to the bench of their one (1) break table, a sagging plastic picnic table.

He looks up at her bright happy face and barks out a half hysterical laugh, “I can’t believe you’re this excited about me potentially falling in love with someone I’m literally being paid to scare.”

“Oooh, so they were a runner??”

“Yeah, literally in this case.”

“Start talking, Munson, or I’m going to throw all your guitar picks down the garbage disposal.”

“Okay, okay, Jesus Christ.. Okay, so I did my usual creepy husky voice at him, called him all the usual things,”

“Let me guess, you started with ‘pretty boy’?”

“Yeah. ‘Cause he’s pretty. Duh. Damn was he pretty…”

“Uh huh. And you fell in love with him ‘cause he was pretty?”

“No, no of course not, listen to this:” Eddie sits up straighter in preparation for the story. “I had him backed into a corner, right? The fake gate over in section 2B,”

“Ah yes, of course.”

“Yeah! And when I lunged at him, he caught my arm, and spun me around.”

“Shut. Up.”

“No, never. SO he’s got me backed against the fence, and he–I swear to fucking Jesus H. Christ–lifts my mask up and kisses me.”

Chrissy starts to squeal incoherently. “Eeeeee!!! Shutupshutupshutup!! Holy shit there’s no way this happened!!”

“Look, 100% serious right now; he kissed me stupid, and spun around and booked it again.”

“Pretty Boy distracted you with a kiss to escape!?! I cannot believe this, c’mon..” Crissy grabs ahold of his arm again and pulls him out of the breakroom with her insane unchecked leftover cheer squad strength.

“Whoa, what? Where’re we going?? He’s probably gone by now! I was standing over in 2B like an idiot for a while after he left!!”

“Not that, we gotta go see Argyle.”

“Argyle why—ohhh shit. Oh my god, you think they caught it on camera?” Eddie’s actively following her now.

The two burst into the warehouses’ security office, where they’re met with the backs of two ‘zombie’ guards (and the leftover smell of weed).

“Argyle, Jonathan, you need to look at something for us,”

“Is it the footage of Eddie’s makeout sesh in 2B? ‘Cause we’re waaayy ahead of you pompom.”

“Ah!! Holy shit he was telling the truth?!” Chrissy bodies between the two, sending Argyle rolling away on his chair, and Jonathan staggering back a step.

“Dude, that’s so cool of your boyfriend to come to the haunt, keepin’ us in business.” Argyle directs at Eddie, though still spinning slowly in his chair.

“He’s not my–you thought he was my boyfriend?”

“Yeah man, why else would you look at him like that.” Jonathan points down at the screen. 

Chrissy re-winds it again and Eddie watches himself charge forward at Pretty Boy (damn, he’s still pretty though this grainy footage too, how the fuck is that possible??), get spun and–oh shit, they’re right.

“Oh Jesus Christ.” he hangs his head into his hands, falling down into Jonathan’s previously abandoned chair.

“Sooo…he’s not your boyfriend..?”

Chrissy re-winds the footage again. Squeals happily.

“Nope. Just met him tonight.”

“Wow dude, that’s like, love at first sight if I ever saw it.”

She re-winds it again, squeals.

“Yeah I know, it’s embarrassing as shit, alright?” Eddie’s still talking into his palms.

Chrissy snorts at that, “Not for you! Well..kinda..but him too, did you not see that pause?”

“...What pause?”

His question goes unanswered as Jon and Argyle move back in over Chrissy’s shoulders and after a few seconds both “Ohh…” in sync.

“The fuck’re you talking about?”

“Look,” She re-winds the tape once again and points, “Watch after he lifts your mask.”

So he does, and..okay, there was a pause.

“...So?”

“He totally fell in love with you at the same time you did him. Fell with him. With each other?”

“You both fell in love at the same time.” Chrissy says what Jonathan was trying to. “We have GOT to find this guy somehow.”

Chrissy records the footage on the screen with her phone, intending to post it online to find the guy, but Argyle’s positive he’s gonna show back up tonight.

“Give him a chance, pompom, he’s totally in love too, remember?”

“Fine, but if he doesn’t come back today, I’m posting this. Maybe it’ll get us some more business too.”

“Do I get a say in this?” Eddie asks, already knowing the answer.

“No.” Yep, there it is.

So, he rolls his eyes, puts his mask back on, and finishes out the night like everything is normal and he didn’t just fall head over fuckin’ heels for a random (hot) stranger earlier.

He’s done for the night before Chrissy since she’s got a lot of that fake blood to try and wash off, so he grabs up his stuff and heads out the front, intending to wave bye to Gareth at the front counter before braving the frigid late fall wind to warm up his car (and move it closer to the entrance so Chrissy doesn't have to walk in the cold). 

“See ya Ed,” Gareth calls, and he waves over his shoulder at him as he passes, his attention pulled to a blonde with a choppy bob looking in through the glass of the door, partially silhouetted by the bright ass headlights of a shiny Tesla parked behind her.

He can see the shadow of someone in the driver seat too, as he gets closer and opens the door for her, their face only partially lit up through the tinted glass by the glow of a phone screen.

She starts rambling off immediately after the door is open. “Oh my god, I thought we were too late and you were closed and I completely didn’t even realize I’d left something here when we were here earlier an–”

“Nope, no worries, ma’am, just go talk to Gareth at the front counter and he can tell you if someone turned in…whatever it is you left here.”

She says her thanks and scoots past him, and he spins quickly towards the side lot where his old Neon is parked.

He glances back when he hears the bell chime over the door, a bit delayed (probably the wind holding it open), and sees that the Tesla’s stopped beaming their headlights into the front door, that’s nice of them.

He unlocks his car and gets in, turning the engine over and cranking the heat as high as it’ll go. Once the engine stops it’s signature ‘I’m cold as fuck rn, don’t even try to move me’ rattle, he drives to the front door to wait for Chrissy, pulling in next to the burgundy Tesla.

He scrolls down TikTok for a couple minutes before a banner pops up on his screen

Chris C.: oh my holy fucking shit eddie, get your ass back inside!

Panicking, he races back in through the door, not even bothering to shut off his engine (or close his car door for that matter), thinking shiny Telsa duo is like, robbing the place or something, but as soon as he gets back in, he’s stopped dead in his tracks.

His heart’s still beating a mile a minute, but now with nerves.

Because standing infront of the counter are Chrissy (who’s actually vibrating with excitement), choppy blonde, and…

Oh fuck.

No way.

“H–hi, hi. I’m Steve, you’re Eddie right?”

He can’t help the grin that splits across his face. “Hey, pretty boy.”

thanks to @henderdads for rightfully pointing out that modern day rich boy steve would probably have a tesla <3

tagging everyone i saw in the tags of the last post that seemed interested in more/wanted to see the aftermath lmao: @bangarangdarling, @tartarusknight, @kas-eddie-munson, @wormdebut (AMAZING url btw), @vecnuthy, @perseus-notjackson, @homosexual-having-tea, @matchingbatbites, @scarcrossdlvrs, @anzelsilver, @auroraplume, @kkpwnall, @wildwildsoul, @bennys-burgers, @steveharringtonssluttywaist

[lexirosewrites]

O!Steve w powers part 2 of 2

Season 4 is a whole ass thing w many changes

A!Hopper isn't in some soviet prison camp & idc bc this is my toy box & these r my pretty dolls

O!Max isolates from the majority of the party, but she's still B!El best friend & doesnt hesitate to explain things to El when others won't & their sleep overs have a new tension as they end up sneaking looks at eachother, she still breaks up w A!Lucas but its totally separated from the feelings growing btwn her & El & is mostly motivated by a complicated grief around Billy, she goes w Steve & Hopper to his games & to watch El cheer, she avoids everyone else but spends as much time as possible sleeping over at the Hoppers cabin after she moves into the trailer park as her mom's drinking gets worse

Steve moved in w the Hoppers after starcourt, & El breaks up w Mike bc he continously disparaged her goal to try out for cheer, she tried out for cheer & gets a spot & everyone is actually quiet nice to her as they teach her the things she needs to learn to b an effective cheerleader, no one from cheer blinks at her growing relationship w Max bc Max isn't a total social reject & everyone in town knows tht El & Max were in the mall fire tht killed Billy

A!Lucas trains w Steve & Hopper all summer for basketball try outs & he still joins Hellfire as well as getting on the basketball team, they never conflict w eachother & A!Jeff speaks up on his behalf when the rest of Hellfire try to get a rise out of him, same thing happens on the basketball team when the others try to rag on Lucas, B!Patrick always has his back. Then the championship game comes around.

A!Eddie is inflexible & Dustin & Mike roll over easy while Will & Jeff try to point out a basketball game can't b rescheduled like a d&d session can but they get talked over. A!Erica refuses to join as the replacement in this AU bc she's going to watch her brother sit on a bench while Steve cuddles her & sneaks her snacks she isn't allowed to eat after 5pm. Jonathan just raises an eyebrow when they try to ask him & Nancy says no without looking at them. Then, the new kid from California speaks up as if from the shadows, B!Argyle is very willing to join their game for a night & he's got more knowledge of the game then they'd think he would.

The game happens, El has a great time w the cheer team, Lucas makes the winning shot, his parents & Erica & the party sans Mike & Dustin & Will envelope him in a group hug, when Lucas sees Hellfire emerge after clearly completing the campaign without him, he's obviously hurt & instead of going w the basketball team Lucas goes w his parents & the rest of the party to get pizza, Mike & Dustin & Will stumble to the same pizza joint excited after the d&d game w Argyle in tow, they see everyone & try to go up to them as if everything is good, but the icy reception they get quickly clues them in tht they messed up

Then before anyone knows what's happening Steve is up out of his chair & racing to his car then peeling down the street in a race against time to get to the trailer park, while A!Chrissy stands in Eddie's trailer w her eyes rolling back into her head while Eddie is panicking, Steve bursts in & attempts something he hasn't before, he tries to go into her mind & he succeeds, his presence is enough to disrupt Vecna/Henry/One from the first part of his plan to sacrifice Chrissy but he knows Vecna saw him there

All 3 jump into Steve's car where he grabs his walkie talkie & screams out a code red, he tells the party he's taking 2 ppl to the cabin & to meet him there, then he shuts off his walkie talkie when Dustin starts yelling abt proper etiquette & after Hopper confirms he'll get every1 rounded up & to the cabin

Chrissy is wiping away tears & Eddie is freaking out as quietly as he can, then they're parked & Steve is grabbing a fucking nail bat out of his trunk & escorting them inside like he's security & they're 2 heads of state, they're both sat down on one of two couches while steve does his best to prepare them for the absolute storm of ppl tht r abt burst in as if the world is ending because... well it is

Soon everyone is there including Argyle who ended using his van to transport many of the younger party & lucas' parents r there bc Mr Sinclair is a veteran from Vietnam just like Hopper & many of the men in Hawkins & Mrs Sinclair was a trauma nurse so they know something big something srs is happening & their children insist on being involved, Hopper & El & Joyce & Steve take turns carefully explaining the last few years to the new ppl, the Sinclair parents wrap their arms around their children as they process the danger their babies were in, Argyle blinks & has a minor freak out on the back porch after everything is laid out, Eddie joins him in his freak out, & Chrissy answers questions for El while Steve uses his pheromones as an omega to help her calm down even slightly, Max & Will & Jonathan go abt making pb&j sandwiches & brewing coffee for everyone bc they need something to do,

everyone agrees to split into groups & to keep a walkie talkie near, the Sinclair family return home w Argyle planning to sleep on their couch, the Byers return home & Will promises to let them all know if something is happening thru his link to the hive mind, Nancy & Mike go home & they sleep together in Nancy's bed like they used to do when Mike was younger & didn't want to wake their parents bc he had a nightmare, the Hoppers + Robin & Max + Chrissy + Eddie stay at the cabin. Eddie is relegated to the couch while Chrissy tries to sleep w El in her room & Max sleeps w Steve & Robin in his nest. It's while Max is cuddled on both sides by Steve & Robin tht she confesses to the nightmares & the headaches & even the auditory hallucinations. Steve kisses her forehead & begins purring while Robin starts an alpha purr & he tells her they'll make a plan of attack tomorrow.

Chrissy had refused to go home to b alone in a place tht featured so heavily in the nightmare Vecna had been sending her but she does call home to tell her father she's become friends w the new cheerleader Jane (El) Hopper & tht she'll b spending a few nights of spring break w her & her family, Mr Cunningham sees no issue since Hopper is after all the sheriff, everyone settles down to try to sleep, Chrissy ends up sitting w Hopper & Eddie at the table all of them drinking coffee into the early morning

Steve has a dream. He's in a house filled w sickly black vines, it stinks of blood & mold & stale air, he hears humming of some vague melody all around him but when he looks to the top of the stairs he sees the alpha from the dreams he'd kept having during every heat since starcourt standing there & the humming stops, it's deadly silent, & when Steve blinks the figure isn't at the top anymore, this twisted visage of an alpha is right before him, muttering abt a plan in a sing song way as he caressed Steve's neck before leaning in to smell Steve's scent, commenting abt Steve never smelling of fear, this alpha tells him to call him Henry right before dragging his alpha teeth along Steve's throat up to his mating gland & then Steve is jolting awake, sweaty, & panting in the morning light with the sensations of the dream playing in a visceral loop

He puts his hand to his throat, specifically his mating gland & when he draws his hand back he finds blood from a minor scratch tht could've been caused by anything but Steve KNOWS it was a warning wrapped up in a claim from this horror of the Upside Down

That's all they wrote folks! I may repurpose some of these images for my haunted Harrington fic👻👻

and here’s part two of omega Steve has powers AU! now i need a part where Eddie has to save Steve from Henry by claiming him as his omega😌💕

(link to part one)

[jobesbabe]

Proud of You / Jobe Bellingham

ps i made this gif so give creds if u use it!

warnings: established relationship, fluff, bar setting

summary: tired you cozying up to your winner of a boyfriend. based loosely on the Sunderland vs Plymouth Argyle match and it’s (fictional) aftermath.

You sat patiently with the other wags for the majority of the first half. Your boyfriend was on the bench and so was his mate Chrissy. There were yellow cards thrown, One at your boys in red, and two at the opponents in green. Approximately one every ten minutes. You pulled your Sunderland scarf a bit tighter and sighed. To you, the match was plain and boring. You adored football, even teams other than Sunderland, but if it was Sunderland, your Jobe better be playing. A few minutes after Phillips earned his yellow, you heard cheers and cries erupt from the Stadium of Light. Everyone around you looked disappointed. Plymouth Argyle had scored. As you stared at the number nine on Hardie’s back, You felt it taunting you. That should be a red jersey, with a number 7 that read ‘JOBE’. If only were that easy.

Relief came for you as the ref blew his halftime whistle, reminding you your boyfriend still had forty five minutes to go out and prove himself.

You expected the manager to have him walk out onto the field, and start the remaining forty five, but he didn’t. Your sighs grew louder wondering when your man would get out there on the field.

seven minutes passed and you joined in with the roar of fans, as Roberts moved with the ball, you could tell if he passed it to Ekwah he would score. And he did, equalizing it for the two teams. You cheered for the Jobe-less Sunderland, wishing it had been your Jobe who scored the equalizer.

Seven more minutes passed and Clarke sank a second into the back of the net giving Sunderland an advantage over the visitors. It was like someone was winking at you with the number seven and everything associated with it. Good luck, Jobe. Jobe. Jobe is the number seven. You were sure in seven minutes his manager was going to sub him in. You were sure.

At the 65’ minute mark, two minutes before your seven minute timer would go off, Jobe was subbed in along with Chrissy in exchange for Abdoullah, and Pierre.

So, maybe I was wrong, about the seven minute thing but who cares, he's in now, you thought to yourself. You smiled as he ran up and down the field. as your timer begins to alert you, you see Neil make an amazing pass to Jobe and him just put that ball away in the corner.

You cheer so hard for him, yelling “That’s my boy!” and he celebrates with his teammates before turning to your section and blowing a few kisses. You begin to blush and the wags around you laugh and poke a bit of fun.

The rest of the game flew by, the result remaining where Jobe had left it. 3-1. You made your way to wait for the boys to shower. As you waited, Keeley, Alex Pritchard’s partner came up to you and talked with you about plans for the night and how they were all going out to a bar. You told her you’d run the idea past Jobe and she thanked you.

As he walked out to go see you the fresh-faced Jobe couldn’t help but smile. You ran to him and he picked you up and spun you around.

“I’m so proud of you! That was amazing Jobeee!” you exclaimed.

He grinned cheekily and tilted his head.

“You think so?” he asked.

You laughed and kissed his cheek as he put you down.

“I think some of the guys and their partners are going out for drinks if we want to join them,” Jobe said.

“Oh yeah, Keeley mentioned something yeah.”

“lets go out with them yeah?” he asks.

“Sure,” you reply as you leave to his car hand in hand.

Jobe and you make your way inside a bar close to the outskirts of the city. You see it’s been mostly cleared so the lot of you could hang out there without many disturbances.

You sat between Keeley and Jobe drinking just a club soda with lime since you didnt feel like drinking.

After a few hours and meters of seperation from Jobe, you began to get tired.

You crept into Jobes lap and cuddled into his neck with your eyes closed. His cologne was as intoxicating as alcohol to you and you breathed it in like it was your oxygen.

He rocked you back and forth humming and your ear was pressed to his chest listening to his heartbeat as it steadily pounded.

He kissed your hair and you smiled.

“baby, im so proud of you.” you said.

He laughed and picked you up bridal style, putting you in the car to bring you home

————————————————————————

that’s it!

a/n - I turned off anon requests bc literally the same person is using it over and over again for the same request and also left rude ones so i’d rather know who they came from. Requests are open but not anon… In due time i will turn anon back on. dw. Thanks for the understanding

thanks for reading! leave comments, like and follow! thank youu!

[eiightysixbaby]

i’ll be home for christmas

PART TWO: Run Run Rudolph

previous part || series masterlist || next part

word count: 5.1k

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: eddie isn’t enjoying life in chicago, but he’s been too stubborn to admit it. when he's at his breaking point, what comes next?

cw: switches between past and present tense, mentions of food/eating, lots of angst, eddie is an idiot but we love him, reader’s nickname is ‘sunny’

author’s note: just wanted to say thank you all so much for the love on part one! i’m so excited to be sharing more of this story. part three is in the works and should be out in the next couple of weeks :) thank you again for giving my story a chance, it means so much to me.

Present Day: December 18th, 1989.

The droning, repetitive sound of the cash register’s scanner is giving Eddie a migraine. Beep. A sweater is thrown into a bag. Beep. Some cooking utensils. Beep. A toy truck and a Barbie doll.

The impatient face of the woman who stands before him only makes him want to move slower, and she scowls when he “accidentally” purposefully drops one of her items to the floor.

“Oops!” he says, giving her a fake innocent grin, shrugging dramatically before he bends down to pick it up. He debates how feasible it would be to fake a stroke or a heart attack or something while he’s down here, but ultimately decides against it and stands straight again.

Beep. He scans a tie with green and red stripes on it, presumably for the less-than-amused husband who stands at the woman's side, looking like he'd rather be literally anywhere else.

He can hear the woman’s foot tapping on the waxy floors beneath them, her arms crossed over her chest and her checkbook clutched in one hand. He gives her her final total, watching as she scrawls her pristine cursive writing onto the thin piece of paper before handing it to him. He hands her several bags once the transaction is finished, pressing his lips into a tight line when she yanks them from his grip in a less-than-pleasant manner. The husband follows absentmindedly like a puppy on a leash, paying absolutely no mind to Eddie whatsoever. He might as well not have even been there.

“Happy Holidays to you, too,” he says, perhaps a bit too loud as they walk away.

Sighing, he leans onto the countertop in front of him, pressing his face into his open palms. The store’s speakers play a consistent loop of popular Christmas music, and Eddie thinks he’s heard The Chipmunk Song enough times today to last him the rest of his life. The squeaky voices of the fictional rodents ring out through the decorated space, eliciting laughter from children who can’t help but sing along.

There’s been a non-stop wave of shoppers over the past couple of weeks, and it only seems to be getting worse the closer it gets to the holiday. People in Chicago aren’t friendly about it, either. Everyone seems to be going about their lives transactionally, angry and frustrated that they have to be picking up gifts and baking cookies and wrapping boxes in the first place. Eddie isn’t used to it.

Back in Hawkins, everyone was cheerful around Christmas. The otherwise quiet town seemed to light up in December, bringing even the grumpiest of residents out of the woodwork to celebrate. The funny thing is, he never thought he'd miss it. Never imagined he'd yearn for that town, for that community. But there's a lot of things that hadn't gone according to his plan, so what's one more on that list?

Eddie can feel his name tag poking his skin through his shirt, his argyle sweater that was so impossibly opposite to his taste in fashion but that was strongly recommended by his boss; "to look put-together", he'd been told. And so he'd picked out a few "nice" outfits, for nothing if not to keep his damn job. But the material of the sweater makes his skin itch, and paired with the too-bright lights and the too-repetitive music, this job was a sensory hellhole. The smell of over-priced perfume is engrained into his nostrils at this point, and Eddie literally winces as he catches a customer spray a cloud of the fragrance out of a sample bottle.

He rolls his eyes as Donna, head of the fragrance department, dishes out her usual sales-pitch to the clueless man that stands before her, utterly and devastatingly unsure of what to get the lady in his life for Christmas. I could never be that clueless, Eddie thinks to himself, I know how to get a good gift.

And then, his heart aches as he stares blankly at the man holding two different perfume bottles in each hand. Because he remembers that the last real gift he'd bought was for you.

December 5th, 1988.

The mall was packed full of holiday shoppers, everyone in a mad rush to find the perfect gifts for each person on their lists. Eddie typically wasn't much of a shopper himself, really only coming to the mall to bother Dustin and Will at Scoops, but today was different. You wanted to start getting your shopping out of the way, and didn’t want to go alone, so of course Eddie was going to tag along. He’d been spending every possible second he could with you, running errands or getting food or seeing a movie. Even just hanging out at your apartment or his trailer. With you, everything seemed magical. Every item you picked up and marveled at in each store, every Christmas song you sang along to, it was all shiny and wonderful because it was associated with you.

You currently have him at a jewelry store, looking into a glass case filled with glittering gold and silver accessories. Some of which probably cost, individually, more than all of his possessions combined. A low whistle leaves his mouth before he hears you chirp beside him.

“Eddie! Look at this one!” you coo, pointing eagerly at a flashy necklace that sits in the case.

He’s at your side in an instant, looking where your finger directs him. His eyes land on a dazzling pendant, adorned with jewels that sparkle glamorously.

“Oh, Nancy would love this,” you muse, taking a closer look at the price tag. “I could get this for her… or I could tell Robin about it so she could get it for her. I don’t know, is it too much if I get Nancy a necklace?” you debate out loud, making Eddie smile at how flat-out adorable you are.

He loves your heart, the way you always think about your friends. You truly aren’t looking for a thing for yourself, you just want to get your friends the best gifts possible, physical objects that remind them of your gratitude for them.

“I don’t think it’s too much. Or, why don’t you give Robin a call so you can ask her straight up? Here, use the pay phone,” he offers, pulling some quarters from his pocket and handing them to you.

“You’re right, that’s the easiest idea,” you say with a cute little relieved laugh. “Wait here, I’ll be back in like, fifteen.”

He gives you a little salute with two fingers, continuing to glance around at the selection once you’ve left. His feet stop him instantly when his eyes catch a delicate gold necklace with a tiny heart-shaped pendant. It’s engraved with the letter M, and a card sits beside it that informs potential buyers that you can get it customized with any initial. It’s simple, exactly how you’d want it to be, but it’s far from ugly or bland.

Eddie knows immediately that he wants to get it for you, eyeing the price tag nervously before breathing a sigh of pure relief at the fact that it’s far more affordable than he’d have suspected. You’re the most special thing in his life, and it feels right to give you a piece of him. His initial, to wear on your neck, so you can keep him close at all times. His stomach does a little flip of excitement at his idea, and he’s grateful you’ve left him alone so he can keep this a surprise.

“Excuse me, ma’am,” he says to the worker after you’ve left. “I’d like to get this one, please. Engraved with an E.”

Present Day: December 18th, 1989.

He's pulled from his melancholy daze by another customer snapping their fingers in his face, polished nails standing out at the tips of slender fingers.

"Hello? Anybody home?" the woman asks, chewing her gum too exaggeratedly for Eddie to be able to take her seriously. "Are you too stupid to understand me or what?"

Yeah. It's going to be a long rest of his shift.

•

Cars roll past on the busy streets as Eddie makes his commute home, the holiday chaos evidently in full-swing on the outside of the department store, too. He winces as a car’s tires slosh through the slushy mixture collecting on the sides of the road, sending it splattering all over his coat. He sighs, moving off to the side of the sidewalk that’s furthest from the road, brushing half-melted snow off of himself.

His body is frigid with the cold, his eyes heavy with his incredible lack of sleep and his fatigue from the most draining shift at the world's most boring job. He trudges inside of his apartment building, the tall structure looming over the Chicago streets. The large Christmas tree in the lobby makes Eddie frown to himself, resurfacing that ache he’d felt at work. The ache that really hasn’t fully gone away since last Christmas. It’s always in the back of his mind, always tapping away at his heart, a dull soreness like a bruise that won’t heal.

“Oh shit, what’s goin’ on, Edwardio?” Eddie’s neighbor, Argyle, greets him as he climbs the stairs to his floor.

“Hey, man,” Eddie responds, feeling guilty at the monotony of his voice compared to cheerfulness of his acquaintance.

“You wanna come in for a smoke sesh? Just picked up some new stuff,” Argyle offers, sticking his thumb in the direction of his door as he grabs his keys from his pocket.

“Nah, man, not tonight. Some other time,” and then Eddie’s slinking into his apartment, shutting his door promptly behind him.

Eddie never turns down a smoke sesh.

Once fully inside, he throws his things haphazardly onto the ground. He couldn’t be bothered to care about where they land — his whole place is a mess. A reflection of his mental state. Soft wool fabric of his sweater is tossed onto his bed, traded for a t-shirt so well-loved it has holes in the neckline. He goes to his dining table as he tugs the shirt fully over his head, grabbing the phone off of the wall and anxiously curling the cord around his fingers as he dials a familiar number. It rings a few times before there’s an answer, each droning dial tone making him anxious.

“Hello?” he hears Robin’s voice ring out on the other end.

“Rob, hey, it’s me.”

“Eddie!” she says excitedly. “Guys, Eddie’s on the phone!” her voice sounds further away, and he knows she’s holding the phone away from her face as she calls out to whoever else is there.

Steve shouts his name and he smiles, hearing the commotion on the other end as other people shuffle towards Robin to try and grab the phone.

“How is everything? How are you?” Robin asks him, shushing Dustin as he begs her to let him say hi.

“I, uh, I’m alright. I miss you guys,” he says, resting his forehead on the heel of his palm. “How’s everything there?”

“We miss you too. Things are….” Robin pauses, and it makes Eddie’s stomach drop. “—They’re okay,” she finishes, but she sounds unsure; like there’s something she isn’t telling him.

“Who’s there with you right now? I know I heard Henderson and Steve,” he says, trying to force some happiness into his voice.

“Eddie! You’ll never believe how the D&D campaign is going!” Dustin says excitedly into the receiver, and he can hear Robin’s voice telling him to give it back.

“I bet it’s great, you’ll have to call me on your own sometime and tell me everything.”

“I definitely wi— HEY!” Dustin says, yelling as the phone is seemingly snatched from him.

“Give me the phone back, you turd! Okay, to answer your question…” Robin’s voice is back again. “It’s me, Nance, Jonathan, of course Steve and Dustin, and then, uh… Sunny,” she trails off, getting quieter at the end.

It hurts Eddie’s heart, the way she says your name softly like she doesn’t want you or him to hear it.

“Can I… can you put her on?” he tries, wanting so desperately to hear your voice.

You haven’t talked to him since Christmas Eve. Since the night he told you he was leaving. Every time he’d call home he couldn’t manage to get ahold of you. The one time he called your personal number, the second you’d said hello and he’d announced his presence, you’d hung up. Sometimes, when Eddie happens to call Steve or Robin or Nancy during a group hangout, they’ll tell him you aren’t there, but he knows it’s a lie. Not that it matters much anyway, because even the times they’re honest with him he’ll ask to speak to you and you’ll refuse.

It hurts him, how much you’ve distanced yourself. He obviously wanted you to move forward, but he’d hoped you could at least catch up every once in a while. How stupid he’d been to think that this was a fair thing to ask of you. How stupid he’d been to think the right decision was to leave you behind, the one person who he adored, who was right for him.

“Eddie…” Robin says on the other end, her voice wavering.

“Forget it. It’s okay,” he says, immediately looking to change the subject. “Look, I just wanted to check in and see how you guys were doing. I can let you go.”

“We miss you, Eddie. We’re always thinking of you,” Robin says, and he hears Nancy say a quick “love you!”

“Tell Wheeler I love her, too. I love all of you guys, okay? We’ll talk later.”

And then the call is over. The phone clicks into its place on the wall, and Eddie is alone again. Deafening silence rings in his ears, taunting him as he stares blankly at the wall in front of him.

If he’s honest, truly honest, nothing has been right since he left Hawkins. He tries to grin and bear it, to pretend like his shitty dead-end job is making him happy and that he made the correct decision moving here. But deep down, nearly this whole time, he’s known it was wrong.

Last December, he’d been at a breaking point, feeling like he was unwanted in Hawkins and like he was just a burden to you and everyone else. He’d genuinely convinced himself that you’d be better off without him, had it in his head that you’d move on with time and that you’d be okay in his absence.

He couldn’t be more wrong, but he wasn’t aware of how much you missed him. He didn’t think he was something worth missing.

December 16th, 1988.

Steaming hot plates of scrambled eggs and bacon are placed in front of you and Eddie, followed by two sides of toast with extra butter. Taking a tentative sip of his scalding coffee, Eddie’s eyes meet yours over the rim of his mug. You do a happy little wiggle in your seat, more than content to have a meal after your drinking session at Nancy’s the previous night. Eddie’s stomach was begging for food, and he knows you must be feeling the same way.

You waste no time digging in, and he watches you with a cute smile on his face as you raise your fork to your mouth, groaning when you take your first bite of eggs. You look ethereal, with your hair unbrushed and your mascara messy around your eyes, one of his big t-shirts on your frame beneath your winter coat. His smile falters, then, as he considers how perfect you are. How you’re effortlessly flawless, and how he doesn’t come close to deserving you.

You catch him staring, poking his wrist with the dull end of your fork and breaking him out of his thoughts.

“You can’t absorb my food just by watching me eat, you know that right?” you joke, smirking around your mouthful of toast.

“I can sure as hell try,” Eddie says, pressing his index and middle fingers to either side of his head, humming while he does it as if summoning the food to him.

You laugh, the brightest little sound, before you go back to eating as normal. You don’t see his smile fade yet again as he starts to pick at the food on his plate, his appetite suddenly dwindling.

The last week had taken its toll on Eddie, to say the least. This time of year always tended to be a bit hard on him, making him reminisce on the days when his mom was still alive and reminding him that his dead-beat father couldn’t be bothered to spend the holidays with his only son. Christmas was a time for family gatherings, and Eddie didn’t have family to gather with. He had you, and the rest of the friend group, and Wayne, but it just isn’t the same as having a complete and loving family. He found himself wishing for the Christmas-card picturesque familial comfort, and his heart ached at the lack of it.

Then, to bring his mood down even more, there was the incident at the grocery store. Just last night he’d been at the store with you, picking up some alcohol for the get together at Nancy’s. You’d been following close behind him as he’d roamed the aisles, your hand wrapped around his arm. Soft laughter and warm smiles were exchanged as you waited in the checkout line, inviting the eyes and judgments of onlookers.

“What a shame that poor girl got roped in with the Munson boy,” an older woman had said to her friend as they walked by. “She could do so much better than that…” she remarked, looking Eddie up and down in a way that could only be displeased. He met their eyes, only to have them turn up their noses in response and walk away.

You hadn’t heard the comments, had been too busy selecting a candy bar to snack on, your fingers sifting over crinkly paper before deciding on a Kit-Kat. Eddie tried to shake the stranger’s comment off, really he did, but he found his brain clouded with it. Sometimes he was so good at letting things roll off of his shoulders, but he’s felt it getting harder and harder. The whole night at Nancy’s, he couldn’t stop thinking about what the woman had said; couldn’t stop thinking about the way she looked at you like she pitied you, simply for being near him. The worst part is, this isn’t the first time he’s noticed people judging you and him together. Not even close. Everywhere he goes with you, he feels like he catches dirty looks.

It makes him feel like even more of a screw-up than he already does, simply adding to the emptiness that resides within his body. In his head, he feels like that woman at the supermarket was right. You could do better than him. Why did you bother with the town freak when you could have anyone?

“Hey,” you say now, blinking at him from across the sticky tabletop. Your voice is like a shining flashlight through the fog of his thoughts, bringing him out of the murkiness. “Are you alright? I thought you were starving,” you worry, concern etched into your facial features.

He looks down at his plate, realizing he’d been dancing his fork around the porcelain and stabbing mindlessly at the now-room-temperature eggs. He’d taken a single bite of his toast and nothing more.

“Did those eggs do something to you?” you ask, playing tough, trying to get a smile from him. “Do I need to teach them a lesson?”

“Yeah, actually, they called me some pretty mean names,” he joins in, rolling his eyes, but it’s half-hearted. You notice this, able to read him like a book, but you don’t press the issue.

Instead, you simply reach across the table, taking his hand and giving it a squeeze. Squeezing yours in return, he tries to brush away the depressing thoughts that had berated him, and he eats his bacon and the rest of his toast before you both get up to leave. He knows he shouldn’t torture himself like this, but it’s hard not to when his whole life he’s felt like he wasn’t quite good enough.

When you arrive at your place, he walks you to the door of your building, ever the gentleman. Trying desperately to savor these moments with you without letting the town’s collective opinion of him ruin them. His heart flutters when your pretty eyes look up at him, your gentle fingers brushing against the sleeve of his coat.

“I don’t really want you to go,” you say, laughing a little but turning away as you do it, like you don’t quite want him to see.

“I don’t wanna go either. Hate leaving you,” he says, tilting his head to the side as he gives you a tiny pout.

You stand in silence for a moment, just looking at each other. The tension hangs thick in the air, and Eddie swears he could reach out and slice it with his fingernail. His heart thumps in his chest, he wonders if you can hear it from where you stand. And then, before he can truly even process it, you’re leaning in and he’s leaning in and then his lips are on yours and oh, god.

He’s never felt lips softer than yours, never felt sparks like the ones he feels right now. The kiss doesn’t last long, but in his mind it felt like he’d been frozen in that moment for hours. He can feel his cheeks flush when you’ve pulled away, but as he looks at you his heart just sinks.

You could do better than him. This is a mistake. He can’t let you do this to yourself.

He suddenly wants to sprint as far as he can away from you, he wants to curl up into a ball and hide away for eternity. He feels unstable, like the earth beneath him could crumble at any minute. His gut is telling him to leave, to go home and shut himself in to think. But at the same time, the way you look at him makes it so hard to go. You chew on your lip, giggling as he gives you a soft look and decisively tells you he has to get home. His breathing is a little shaky, and he hopes you didn’t notice.

“I’ll see you soon?” you ask, holding onto his arm.

“Yeah, see you soon.”

Your smile is persistent as you open the door to your building, waving at him through the small glass window. He offers a wave in return, before he turns heel and all but books it back to his van. He feels like he could collapse, like everything is crashing down around him.

To this town, he’s a fuck up, and maybe they’re all right. Maybe he needs to get out, to go somewhere where he can start fresh. Be someone new, not just a Munson.

His mental spiral only worsens as he drives to the trailer park, his thoughts racing in his mind. He hears principal Higgins from a few years back, he hears his neighbors, he hears the PTA moms all calling him a failure, a freak, a weirdo. A burden.

By the time he gets home, he feels like the answer to his problems is already decided. It’s been a slow boil over the course of the last week, a nagging thought that fades in and out of his brain. Now it’s finally coming to a head. There’s too many bad memories in this town, too many people that want him gone.

He needs to leave Hawkins. He needs to leave you.

Present Day: December 18th, 1989.

Initially, right after he’d left, the gang had tried reasoning with him, begging him over grueling phone calls to just come home. He’d felt horrible about it, but he said no every time. He truly wanted to make something of himself, something that he felt Hawkins could never give him.

But then, getting his foot in the door in the music industry like he had hoped was not as easy as it was made out to be. The guy at the local recording studio had laughed at him when he’d inquired about booking a session to record a demo-tape. He’d laughed harder when Eddie had asked if the recording studio itself was hiring. He couldn’t even land a job at the local record store, and he felt like his failures were just piling up. His first job in the city had been at a small book store, but they ended up letting him go due to their lack of need for his help. Not enough foot traffic, the owner had said. Not worth keeping Eddie around for one shift a week, he’d grumbled.

He’d had several failed job interviews after, growing more and more frustrated after each one. Bills and other expenses were piling up with each passing day he spent jobless, and he guiltily accepted the little bit of money Wayne insisted on sending him to help him get by. He struggled along until he finally scored a job at the big department store down the street from his place. It wasn’t glamorous, by any means, but it paid the bills… barely.

That was another thing. His rent raised unexpectedly a couple months after his move, and he’s been living essentially paycheck to paycheck ever since.

He finds himself missing Hawkins more than he ever thought he would, and it kills him every day. More than anything, he misses you. Every day he thinks about you, yearns for you, wonders what you’re up to. Most of all, he thinks about that kiss. That single, stupid kiss that you’d shared. It had been earth shattering, and looking back he isn’t sure why that wasn’t his reason to stay. Instead, it pushed him further away.

His pride had gotten the best of him, not letting him admit defeat and move back to Indiana because he wanted to seem like he had everything figured out. He couldn’t stomach the thought of returning after a couple short months and looking like a failure to everyone. Frequent phone calls home to Wayne helped him stay sane, and he tried to keep his tone upbeat for his uncle but he should’ve known all along that the man knows him too well to buy it.

That’s why, when Eddie picks up the phone for the second time tonight and dials Wayne’s number, the man on the other end isn’t surprised to hear the way Eddie’s voice cracks or the sniffles that he tries to hide. It’s why he instantly requests that Eddie tell him what’s going on, because he just knows.

And Eddie pours his heart out.

“I can’t do it, Wayne. I can’t fucking do it,” he sniffs.

“Don’t talk like that, boy, what’s got you worked up?”

“I’m miserable here. I thought this was the right choice, but it couldn’t have been further from it.”

Wayne is silent on the other end, but Eddie can hear his steady, calm breathing. He keeps going.

“Sunny won’t talk to me, and— and I deserve that, but I miss her. I miss you, I miss my friends, I fucked up, Wayne,” Eddie’s voice is raw as he talks, frustrated tears streaming down his face. “Chicago is not what I wanted it to be. It didn’t create some magical new life for me. I have virtually nobody here that gives a shit.”

There’s silence again. In this moment Eddie is so wound up he almost snaps at his uncle, but then he doesn’t need to, because his voice comes through the line.

“So come home,” Wayne replies, like it’s the simplest thing in the world.

“What?”

“Come home. Book a flight and get your ass here, I’ll help you pay for it. There’s still time to make it by Christmas.”

It’s like a lightbulb goes off for Eddie, in that moment. Why can’t he just come home? What’s so hard about it? He’d been telling himself no, acting as though he had to stay in Chicago. But what was he running from?

Maybe he just needed that final push. Someone to tell him point-blank to cut the crap and come home. He should've been confiding in Wayne all along. And then it all falls into place, as Eddie stews in the realization that there’s nothing truly holding him back from going home except for himself. He’d created this narrative in his head; that he needed to leave Hawkins and that no one benefited from his presence. What if that was all… bullshit? He’s been forcing himself to stay in a city he hates… for what? He slumps back in his chair, letting Wayne’s words sink in, nodding his head slowly as he thinks.

By the time he gets in bed for the night, he knows what he has to do. He knows he’s made a lot of mistakes in his lifetime, but his worst one was leaving you. Settling in under his thick comforter, his stomach turns with anxiety and excitement. He barely sleeps a wink, but for once, he isn’t mad about it when he wakes up the following morning.

Present Day: December 21st, 1989.

Eddie’s hands shake as he steps out of his cab, his breath shallow with his nerves. In a couple of short days he’d packed up his life in Chicago to leave this place behind for good. He’d left a note on Argyle’s door explaining his departure and thanking him for all of the smoke sessions, and he’d tossed his keys at the always-rude front-desk receptionist before walking out of that building for the last time.

He shuffles in through the revolving doors at the airport, hands nervously wringing around the strap to his duffel bag. Wayne had been right, of course, there was plenty of time to make it home for Christmas and Eddie had secured a flight to Indiana rather easily amidst the holiday craziness. He hadn’t told a single other soul he was coming home, and he knew Wayne certainly wouldn’t share the news without his permission. He wanted to surprise everybody, wanted to fix what he’d broken last year, and he could only hope that he would be welcomed by his friends. You were his biggest obstacle, the thing making him the most nervous, but he was more than ready to see your face again and to never let you go this time. Somehow, he’d make it right.

He takes a deep breath as he heads towards his gate, then another.

This is it. He’ll be home in Hawkins for Christmas.

taglist: @hellfirenacht @writethrough @littledemondani @prettyboyeddiemunson @trashmouth-richie @succubusmunson @likedovesinthewnd @tlclick73 @mrsjellymunson @idkitsem @svbrbnlegends @eddiesxangel @munsonzgf @hereforshmut @eggo-segual @joannamuns9n @lavendermunson @leenameh @micheledawn1975

[plathfiles]

lead singer!remus never being one to be public with his emotions but writing the sappiest love song for reader and the fans just go wild!!! everyone just assumes it was james or sirius that wrote it (let's be honest james probably wrote 10000 ballads for lily) until one show remus is just all 'this is one i wrote for my girl' 🥺🥺🥺

GAH 😩 YES OMG OMG !!!

thank you for this love <3

hope you enjoy !!

The Marauders set up their instruments and sound hours ago, practicing as much as they could before their performance. The band had started receiving gigs in pubs and at parties. Already having a few original songs under their belt, they were receiving more attention from local venues.

You had been introduced to the band from a dear friend. Marlene McKinnon was friends with the band and the guitarist’s girlfriend — Lily Evans. Everyone was going to be there tonight. The pub already filling up with university students and local residents from the community. You were in a booth at the front of the venue, squashed between Marlene and Lily.

“I wonder how many love ballads there will be tonight?” Marlene asked, turning to Lily and giving her a smirk.

Lily playfully rolled her eyes. “James doesn’t write that many,” she protested. Although she had to admit, the boy had written a few love ballads similar to those of the 1980s.

You took a sip of your drink and looked at you friends. “I wonder if Remus has written anything?” She asked.

Remus was a very private writer. He would write with Sirius or the rest of the band. You wouldn’t be opposed to having a song about you. But Remus didn’t seem like the type either. Especially with James’ obnoxious guitar skills and clearly Lily inspired lyrics.

As the room got more crowed and the 9 o’clock showtime reared it’s head, the band stepped out onto stage.

Remus was the first to come out. He was wearing an argyle sweatshirt and corduroy pants. It was his signature look and you thought it was very attractive. His guitar was around his chest. It’s bright cherry red color glistening in the light. Sirius was the second to pop out from behind the curtain, drum sticks in hand. James stepped out, almost tripping on a cord. He was usually very clumsy. His glasses were crooked, per usual and his vintage yellow electric guitar was strapped onto him. Peter was the last to get on stage, his glittering blue bass in his arms.

The band did a couple last minute checks, before Remus grabbed the microphone and looked into the crowd.

“Hello everyone. I’m Remus Lupin if you didn’t already know,” he smiled and the crowd cheered. “To my left is James Potter on electric guitar, to my right is Peter Pettigrew on bass. And lastly, on the platform behind me is Sirius Black on drums,” he introduced. With each name the crowd went wild!

Remus looked down at you and gave you a smirk and wink. You felt your cheeks redden and butterflies erupted in your stomach.

“We have a newly written song for you tonight!” Remus said. “This is a love song!”

The crowd cheered before he could finish the introduction.

“Awe here we go again Lils, another one about you,” Marlene joked. You laughed under your breath as Lily took a drink of her beer.

But Remus continued and said something that surprised you.

“I wrote this one,” he blushed, then looking at you. “This is one I wrote for my girl.”

The band began to play the opening notes of the rock n roll song. As he was singing, he was only looking at you. Lily and Marlene cheered along with the crowd. You were stunned to silence, a permanent blush coding you cheeks.

For three minutes Remus and the rest of the band performed a song of Remus’ creation. All about the beauty and wonder that was you.

The rest of the performance went beautifully. With some of their usual set and a couple Bowie covers, they seemed to be over before you knew it.

After the performance you, Lily and Marlene went to meet the band out back to help them pack up their stuff. Once Remus spotted you, he dropped the cigarette he was smoking. He walked to you and pulled you close to him.

“Did ya like the song, love?” he asked you.

You nodded, “I did. I was surprised you wrote a love song about me?”

Remus pulled you in closer. “I meant every word I wrote. And I’d write you a million love songs, now that I have you in my arms,” he replied.

Overhearing the two of you, Sirius groaned, putting some parts of his drum set into the van. “Ugh great! You’re going to make him as bad as James,” he said, looking towards you.

Remus and you laughed, then the brown haired boy pulled you into a sweet kiss. “I’m glad you liked the song. I can’t wait to write you another.” He held you close to him, kissing your forehead.

𝑎／𝑛 ： I hope you enjoyed this. Please do not forget to reblog and like! If you’d like to request anything please send me a message through my inbox. Also my dms are open anytime if anyone just wants to chat <3

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Bad For Business: Level Five

Steve Harrington x fem!reader [1.7K] An enemies to lovers au. Arcade coworkers, who love to hate each other, get too competitive about Dig Dug and share a mutal annoyance for the kids that like to pester them. Choose your own adventure by picking an option at the end of the chapter.

Staff parties weren’t exactly illegal, per say, but they were definitely hidden from Murray and the plugs to the security cameras always accidentally got yanked out. It wasn’t breaking and entering if several of you had keys, right?

Those last on shift would open the back door after closing, the fire exit left ajar with a piece of broken brick, letting in the crowds of older kids that had nowhere else to let loose in small town Hawkins. It was almost perfect, no windows, the arcade room big and already dark, the neon glow of the machines providing dark corners for people to hide in and do god knows what. 

The smell of old popcorn and Axe body spray was overtaken by smoke, tequila and too sweet perfume, weed and cheap beer. The cars that would no doubt be left overnight were hidden around the back, parked precariously close together, sitting waiting for a lucky make out session or more. 

You were already there when Steve came in, a little before midnight, carrying crates and kegs with Argyle and Jonathan Byers, all of them laughing at something the pounding music was covering up. The front desk was covered in mixtapes, empty cassettes and random sets of car keys, a lighter or five, the beginnings of a rolled joint. Some people were playing on the machines, the coin slot jacked open by Robin so no one had to pay, others were in the spaces between the games, dancing, grinding, drinking. There were couples in the photo booths, lip locked and lovesick, hands under shirts and their intertwined legs visible from behind the curtain. 

The stained carpet got sticker as the night grew later, spilled drinks making the air smell sweet, lukewarm beer in red solo cups forgotten about, a condom packet on the console of Mario Bros, some girls underwear hanging from the joystick of the Asteroids machine. 

Maybe it was the bubblegum vodka Robin was pouring you, maybe it was the way Eddie was coaxing, teasing, pulling you into the circle. Maybe it was the way Steve hadn’t spoken to you all night but he couldn’t stop his eyes from finding yours in the low light. 

“Truth or Dare, my dudes!” Argyle announced, tanned cheeks flushed under the lights, the small group of you gathered at the back of the arcade. “Join or forever be a pussy,” he declared. 

The group groaned, nudging each other so drinks spilled over wrists, overheated skin, bodies pressed together in the hazy smoke. People lounged against the machines, girls against boys, hands around waists, cross legged on the old sofa that Murray had never had a chance to get rid of. 

It’s where you were, perched on the arm of the cracked leather cushion, body leaning into Eddie’s shoulder as he laughed at the way you were pulling on Robin’s belt loops, vying for details about her and Nancy’s last date. But then the game began and suddenly Billy Hargrove was downing his drink and stripping off, hands cupping his junk as he made a sprint around the arcade, grinning at the whoops and cheers he received. 

Robin had to raid the staff office, finding the grossest thing she could in the tiny kitchenette everyone forgot about, pouring three day old yoghurt into her drink to chug. 

Eddie had to admit to whether or not those Prince Albert piercing rumours were true. (They were and he announced this into his can of beer with red cheeks, overwhelmed at the sudden attention Chrissy Cunningham was giving him.)

You had to steal some screws from Murray’s desk chair, the outcome unknown until Monday but you already knew the creaky, old thing would collapse to the floor if anyone even touched it. 

And then Eddie was calling Steve’s name and asking him, “Harrington, truth or dare?”

Maybe it was the way Steve was frowning at Eddie’s arm over your shoulder, maybe it was the way there’d been a red headed girl lingering by his side all night, but suddenly, all your attention was on him. 

He looked unfairly good, hair soft and messy, a blue crew cut sweater rolled up to his elbows, jeans on the edge of too tight. He was cocky about it, eyes glancing lazily to Eddie, a small smile on lips that he hoped told the other boy he wasn’t intimidated by him. Or the arm he had around you. 

Steve took a slow drag of the joint Argyle had handed him before answering, chin tilted up, blowing out the smoke to the painted black ceiling, his gaze still on Eddie, like he was sizing him up. From beside you, Eddie smothered a laugh, leaning into your shoulder only to whisper, “you’ll thank me one day.”

Before you could ask what the fuck that meant, Steve was passing the joint to Jonathan and grinning at Eddie, that same wide, pretty smile he gave you when you were doing your best to piss him off. 

“Dare.”

Eddie beamed, dimples on show and looking too smug. He pulled away from you, slouching back into the couch cushions, thighs spread wide, making a show of it all. You rolled your eyes, wondering what had happened between the two of them that was causing such a stand off. 

“Feelin’ brave, lover boy?” Eddie asked, eyebrows raised. Steve narrowed his eyes but didn’t say anything. “Kiss the girl you’re most attracted to.”

The room rippled with amusement, soft laughs and sniggers, tittering from the girls who hoped they had a chance. Steve tried to play it off, head tilted as he appraised Eddie, still leaning against the Dig Dug machine. The lights made him glow peach and sunshine yellow, the loading screen had your name still at the top, Steve’s just below. 

“What?” Steve asked and something told you that he was trying to stall. You watched him lick his lips, a nervous habit, a hand running through the front of his hair. 

“I think he wants you to kiss the girl you think is the prettiest,” Argyle decided to clarify, eyes reddened and another joint rolling between his fingertips. “Lucky for you, my brother, you got plenty of options.”

Eddie grinned as Steve faltered, eyes locking once more. Eddie shrugged, teeth flashing. “You heard Rapunzel, who’s got your panties in a twist Harrington? Why don’t you show her some love, huh?”

The group tittered again, whispers floating between the smoke and the lights, bets exchanged and several girls dug around in their purses for their lip glosses. The redhead who’d been keeping close to Steve the whole night set her cup of wine down on top of a machine, readying herself. 

Instead, everyone fell silent when Steve took a few steps towards you. The music was still playing, a faint pop hit from the boombox someone had sent up on the front desk. You stared at the boy, wide eyed and incredulous whilst Eddie let out a low whistle. 

“Damn, would you look at that?” He tutted, smiling wide. “Harrington is feeling brave.” 

You were frozen, bewildered as he came to stand in front of you at the couch, your knees pressed to his thighs. You stared at him, lips parted as he seemed to hold his breath, wary. 

“What’re you doing?” You muttered, far too aware of the eyes on you, Eddie grinning, Cheshire catlike beside you, Robin gawking from behind Steve. 

“What does it look like I’m doing?” Steve mumbled back, gaze flicking from yours down to your lips and back again. “You heard what your friend said.”

“You think I’m the pret-”

Steve groaned, eyes rolling, like it pained him to admit to it. “God, shut up,” he said gruffly, but his cheeks were tinged pink and he placed his hands on the tops of your knees, a more gentlemanly touch than you’d expected. 

His hands were warm, ridiculously large, spanning your entire kneecap, fingers and thumb curling around the sides of your thigh. You watched him swallow, his breathing short. Someone whistled, a low, playful sound that had you feeling too warm, like you’d been caught in the playground, behind the bike sheds with your crush. 

Steve squeezed slightly, body burning under his touch, but you brought your gaze back to his and you saw him lift his brows, just a little, just enough. You got the meaning, brown eyes steady on yours. 

‘Can I?’

You tried to ignore everyone around you, the way their breaths were held as the tension in the air crackled and fizzed. It’s as if there was an electric current running round the circle, wires ripping through ribs and hearts, starting and ending with you. It made your skin buzz, a tingle you wondered if Steve could feel too. 

His thumb pressed into the inside of your knee and you thought that maybe, he just might. 

You nodded, your heart in your throat. 

It was like the music had stopped as Steve leaned in, your legs spreading just slightly, enough for him to edge closer, one hand skimming a little bravely up your thigh. You heard someone swear, a shocked thing, just as your eyes closed. Steve's nose nudged yours, his breath a little shaky and smelling like smoke and spearmint gum as it landed on your lips. 

You tilted your head up, chin lifting, just a little. Just enough for your top lip to catch Steve’s bottom, a shocking touch, a barely there thing but it made your heart jump and your lips part, expecting more. Wanting more. 

Steve’s hand squeezed your knee, bracing himself, holding onto you before he could take the next step and dip his face closer to yours, pushing his lips against—

The front door banged against the wall as it burst open, flashlights shining through the low light, cutting into the haze of smoke and neon as the music was abruptly cut off. Hopper, chief of police, and some of his officers were standing in the doorway, framed by the flashing lights of their patrol cars parked out front. 

Blue and red flashed over the walls and someone found the light switch, killing the atmosphere as the yellowing overheads flickered on, buzzing from age. People groaned, stubbed out joints kicked under arcade machines, half empty bottles clattering as those underage tried to hide them behind the desk, in their bags and between machines. 

Hopper looked less than impressed, moustache twitching as he took in the sight. He swept his flashlight over the wide eyed faces, sighing heavily. 

“Okay,  party's over,” he announced. “Everyone line up.”

[lavenderstobins]

Thinking about egg Nancy who’s upset about Robin coming out a lesbian but can’t put her finger on why.

She’s not homophobic, and she wants Robin to be happy, but she feels sick whenever she thinks about Robin not wanting to date her because she’s a boy.

It’s not the thought that Robin doesn’t like boys. Not exactly. She likes Robin, but she could handle unrequited feelings.

It’s the thought that Robin doesn’t like boys, so Robin doesn’t like her. It doesn’t sit right, upsetting her beyond reason, and she doesn’t get it.

It frustrates her like nothing else. It’s a puzzle she can’t solve, the pieces refusing to fit together.

Then one evening, they’re hanging out at Robin’s house, her and Eddie and Steve and Jonathan and Argyle.

There’s a film on in the background but none of them are really watching it. Nancy’s lying on the sofa with her head in Robin’s lap, half-listening as Eddie and Steve bicker about something or the other.

She’s not really paying attention, more focused on Robin’s hand threading through her hair. Eddie says something about his biological advantage, whatever that means, and Steve starts insisting that it’s the opposite.

It’s only when she hears Robin’s name that she tunes back in to the conversation.

“Buckley!” Eddie calls, cupping his hands around his mouth. “You’re a lesbian.”

“Nice of you to notice,” Robin replies dryly.

“You can settle this. Who would make a prettier girl, me or Steve?”

She looks up, seeing Robin looking thoughtful. Both Eddie and Steve are watching her intently.

“Wheeler’d make the prettiest girl,” Robin says, causing Eddie to splutter and Steve to indignantly claim that isn’t an answer, Robin, come on.

Nancy doesn't care as they descend back into arguing. She's frozen, watching Robin, a strange feeling in her chest. She feels weirdly giddy and she doesn’t even know why.

The conversation moves on, but the thought stays in the back of her head for days.

Wheeler’d make the prettiest girl.

Easily, like that’s all there is to it. Had Robin imagined her as a girl? She tries to picture it herself, closing her eyes and imagining herself in her mother’s skirts, her curls growing out long. The girl in her head twirls, beaming, and her tongue dries in her mouth.

She could be a pretty girl, she thinks. Her heart starts pounding at the thought, and that scares her. The shiver that goes up her spine, the tingle of excitement—it’s almost scary enough for her to stop poking. She’s the firstborn son, the pride of the family.

She can’t just… change that. She has so many expectations to carry on her back.

Still, though, now that she’s started thinking, she finds herself unable to stop. She’s overanalysing everything. The way her clothes sit on her body, the way her face feels better shaven.

In the shower, curiosity gets the better of her, and she shaves her arms and legs. She cries in bed that night, running her hands over her smooth skin, a lump in her throat that won’t go away.

—

It’s Mike, of all people, she talks to in the end.

She’s not quite brave enough to have a conversation with Robin, not yet, and her mouth dries whenever she thinks about talking to the other boys.

They sit in the basement, just the two of them, and she tells him her problem, the way it hurts to think about Robin not wanting her.

Mike, to his credit, tries to cheer her up. “It’s not you,” he says helpfully, clumsily patting her shoulder. “Robin doesn’t like any boys.”

“I don’t want her to like boys,” she blurts out. “I want her to like me."

“But you’re a boy,” Mike says, sounding confused, and this, for some reason, is what makes her burst into tears.

Mike freezes, looking alarmed, and all she can do is sob harder.

“Uh,” he says, panic in his voice. “Should I get mom?”

“No!” she sits up quickly, scrubbing her face.

Mike’s eyeing her warily, like he could set her off again at any second. He probably could. She doesn’t know what’s going on with her.

“I’m sorry,” she sniffles. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

Mike squints at her. She can practically see the cogs turning in his head.

“You’re not upset that robin likes girls,” he says slowly.

She shakes her head.

“You’re… not upset that she doesn’t like boys?”

She shakes her head again.

“You’re…” he hesitates, chewing on his lip. “You’re upset Robin… doesn’t like you.”

She nods.

“… Because you’re… not a boy?”

“I can’t just not be a boy,” she says miserably. Hearing herself say the words makes her feel sick, tears forming in her eyes again.

Mike, though, squints again. “Uh, yeah you can. Eddie stopped being a girl.”

She stops. “What?”

“Eddie stopped being a girl,” he repeats, then frowns. “Or—was never properly a girl, but stopped being one? I don’t—I think I’m saying it wrong.”

“Eddie used to be a girl?” The argument comes back to her head, Steve protesting Eddie’s logic of biological advantage.

Mike shrugs. “Something like that. You’d have to ask him, I dunno. but if he can be a boy, then you can be a girl, right?”

“I don’t…” she trails off, thinking about it. “I’m… I can do that?”

“I think so.” Mike sounds unsure, but shrugs again. “Why not?”

Her stomach flutters again. “You wouldn’t mind if I wasn’t your brother anymore?”

“It’s cool if you’re my sister. Just don’t go all ‘boy crazy’ like girls do.”

She bites her lip to hide a smile. “I’m telling Max and El you said that.”

“No, wait!” He scrambles up and she laughs.

She doesn’t say anything more on the subject for a few days, but it’s all she can think about. She can be a girl. She can be a pretty girl. She blushes at the thought.

She tries subtle things, at first. Keeps shaving everywhere. Stops trimming her hair shorter.

She tries on her mother’s skirts when she’s home alone, giddily twirling around, delighting in how they flow with her. She catches sight of her reflection in the mirror and sees a beaming girl looking back, euphoria surging through her.

The next time El comes over, she lets her practice makeup on her, watching as El’s tongue sticks out in concentration. It’s clumsily done, but she has to bite down on her tongue to stop herself crying when she sees the finished look in the mirror.

She’ll tell her friends soon, she decides. She doesn’t feel as afraid anymore, not now that she’s put her puzzle pieces together.

Secretly, she hopes Robin will call her a pretty girl again. Imagines the grin on Robin's face as she crows that she was right.

Tomorrow, she thinks, a small smile on her face. She’ll tell them tomorrow.

[sweetblinginrose]

𝒑𝒉𝒐𝒕𝒐𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒐𝒕,

(Jonathan Byers x PlayboyModel fem!reader)

summary: Jonathan's first job in California is not what his friend promised, being a little more... dirty.

word count: 3,3k

warning: +18 small age difference (Jonathan is of legal age), nudes, porn magazine, embarrassing erection, blowjob, cum on face.

a/n: well, like, what can i say about this? obv, i wasn't inspired by anyone. it just popped into my head while thinking about another fanfic. ig it's like a headcanon that Jonathan used to work as a nude photographer or something. idk, just enjoy, ig lol ;p

masterlist

━━ ✧♡✧ ━━ ✧♡✧ ━━ ✧♡✧ ━━

He was holding the letter with a mixture of hope and nervousness. The rough texture of the paper contrasted with the smoothness of his fingers, which caressed it almost unconsciously while his mind wandered between the possibilities that letter represented. It was more than just a piece of paper; it was the key to a future he longed for, a job in California that could change his life and that of his mother, Joyce, forever.

Money had always been a delicate subject at home. Joyce, with her job, managed to make ends meet, but always just barely. Jonathan wanted more than just survival; he wanted to live. That's why when Argyle, his long-haired friend with a scent of cheerful herbs, suggested that he apply to that photography agency, he didn't think twice. Argyle, who knew more about plants than people, had seen something in Jonathan, a creative spark that deserved to be explored and shared with the world.

The letter was from 'California Play-graphy', an agency unknown to the boy, with an incredible eagerness to know the answer it contained. Jonathan remembered Argyle's words: "Brother, your photos tell stories that words cannot. You have to show that to the world." And so, with a resume full of dreams and a letter that weighed more than gold, Jonathan found himself on the threshold of his future.

With a deep sigh, he broke the seal and unfolded the letter. The first words danced before his eyes: "Dear Jonathan, we are pleased to inform you...". A shout of joy escaped his lips, resonating in the small room, where Willy and Jane were also making a school project, and surely in the heart of Joyce, who eagerly awaited a package in the kitchen. Jonathan had landed a job, and with it, the promise of a fresh start.

The days leading up to Jonathan's first photo shoot at the agency passed slowly, each second filled with a mixture of anticipation and anxiety. As the appointed day approached, Jonathan's nerves intensified, and he found solace in the company of Argyle, his friend and mentor in the art of calm. Together, they sat on Argyle's old leather sofa, which creaked under their weight, sharing stories and laughter. In their hands, a joint, which they lit with the solemnity of a ritual. Smoke wafted in spirals, carrying away some of the tension Jonathan felt. Argyle, always the philosopher, told him, "Relax, brother. Photography is like this plant, you have to let it flow."

And so, with the background sound of Peter Tosh singing about freedom and struggle, Jonathan allowed himself to let go. The lyrics of "Legalize It" or "Equal Rights" filled the room, and for a moment, everything seemed possible. Argyle, with his street wisdom and heart of gold, reminded Jonathan that life was more than just worries and that every photo he would take would be a reflection of his soul.

When the day finally arrived, Jonathan rose with the dawn. The first rays of sun filtered through the window, bathing the room in a golden light that promised a new beginning. With his camera hanging from his shoulder and the rest of his equipment under his arm, and a nervous smile, he bid farewell to his brother and Jane. He stepped out, and there was Argyle, the one responsible for bringing him to the studios and bringing him back. They drove while Argyle smoked until they reached the giant buildings, causing the long-haired guy to take off his sunglasses and lazily look up with his red eyes, seeing a giant Playboy logo, but since he was so high, he didn't pay much attention.

When they finally arrived, Argyle got out and started looking around, completely taken by the desserts of half-naked women, giving Jon a friendly pat on the back and telling him, "Go and capture the magic, brother."

Jonathan entered the gigantic building, having to go through two checks by giant security guards, reaching his destination. The room Jonathan had found was the epitome of minimalist elegance. The walls, painted in immaculate white, reflected the artificial light emanating from the wide spotlights, creating a serene and almost ethereal atmosphere. There were no paintings or decorations; the beauty lay in the simplicity of the space.

In the center, an asymmetrical velvet sofa stood as the centerpiece of the room. Its modern and daring design invited contemplation as much as rest. The light gray velvet seemed to change with the light, adding depth and texture to the environment. Despite its luxurious appearance, the sofa promised comfort, with soft cushions that seemed to embrace the body. Next to it, on a low glass table, rested a transparent cube. Inside, a pile of bright red cherries, each one a little balloon of sweetness, awaited to be enjoyed. The simplicity of the cube contrasted with the richness of the cherries, creating an intriguing and tempting focal point.

To the right, a producer stood, his gaze fixed on you, the woman who would be Jonathan's model, quite beautiful. His posture was that of someone accustomed to making quick and precise decisions, and his presence commanded respect. By your side, you shone like a golden vision. Your long, flowing robe cascaded from your shoulders to the floor, the golden fabric capturing the light and making you sparkle with every movement. The elegance of your attire contrasted with the informality of the producer, but together, they formed a dynamic and complementary duo.

Jonathan knew that this room, with its atmosphere of calm and careful aesthetics, was the perfect place for his first photo shoot. Here, his art would come to life. Or so he thought.

The producer, with his refined air and delicate gestures, glided through the room with the grace of a dancer. His eyes lit up at the sight of Jonathan, and with a warm smile, he approached him. "Bonjour, mon cher Jonathan," he said with a French accent that enveloped each word like a hug. Their cheeks met in a traditional greeting, two gentle kisses, one on each cheek, that resonated with a resounding muah.

As he spoke, his hands floated in the air, drawing shapes that accompanied his words. "Your talent is magnifique, and we are très excited to work with you," he continued, mixing French with English in a way that seemed almost poetic. Jonathan, although surprised by the effusiveness of the greeting, couldn't help but feel a little uncomfortable.

The producer, with his silk shirt and matching pocket square, was the embodiment of Parisian elegance, even thousands of kilometers away from France. "We are going to create art today, do you understand?" he declared confidently, guiding Jonathan to the set while continuing to give instructions, his voice a melodic murmur that promised an unforgettable session. "This work should be a dream come true for a jeune homme hétéro like you, no?" he laughed as he pointed at what Jonathan had to do. With his watch marking the rhythm of a busy day, he apologized with hurried elegance. "My apologies, I have an urgent matter to attend to," he said in his charming mix of French and English. With a gesture of his hand and one last approving glance at Jonathan, he slid out of the set, leaving behind a trace of his distinctive perfume and the promise of returning soon.

Jonathan and you, a few years older than him, with your golden robe, were left alone, surrounded by the pristine whiteness of the room. The absence of the producer filled the space with expectant silence. You turned to Jonathan, your eyes shining with a mixture of surprise and complicity in the unexpected situation. "I guess it's just you and me now," you said, with a smile that exuded confidence and grace. Jonathan nodded, feeling the weight of responsibility settle on his shoulders. However, your calmness and imposing presence gave him strength.

"We are going to make this session memorable," declared Jonathan, adjusting his camera with steady hands. You nodded and took your position on the set, your golden robe reflecting the light as if woven with threads from the same sun.

Jonathan began the session, with a sense of normality, although he sensed that something was not right. Suddenly, you raised a hand, requesting a pause. "The session is without the robe," you said in a soft but firm voice, quite seductive. Jonathan stopped, a little surprised, but nodded in understanding, thinking that you would be wearing an outfit underneath. You gracefully slid out of the golden robe, revealing your fully exposed chest, as well as your entire torso, wearing only a transparent thread-like fabric that 'covered' your intimate area, if that can be called covering.

In the warmth of the light emanating from the spotlights, your bronzed skin and your generous breasts merged into an illuminated tone, with no trace of bikini lines to disrupt the harmony of your smooth and sinuous skin. Every curve of your body was carefully sculpted, leaving no room for imperfections. The absence of hair left your skin impeccable, highlighting its smoothness. Your generously sized breasts stood proudly, crowned by pink nipples that contrasted perfectly with the tone of your lips. Jonathan, captivated by the vision of this goddess in front of him, could barely tear his gaze away from your abdomen, slowly descending until it met the tiny thread-like thong that barely covered the essentials. Without showing any hint of discomfort, you approached Jonathan with overwhelming confidence, asking him if he was truly prepared for the photo shoot.

Without waiting for a response, you reclined on the sofa, unleashing a wave of anticipation in the photographer. Every movement you made was calculated, every pose was a game of seduction meant to ignite the viewer's imagination. Your breasts, as they moved gracefully, seemed to whisper secrets to the wind, tempting the camera to capture your provocative essence.

Jonathan's tent, unable to contain his growing excitement, began to rise, oblivious to his will. Desperately seeking a way to hide his agitation, he crouched slightly, justifying the gesture as an attempt to improve the angle of the shot. In that moment, amidst the visual ecstasy, he was lost, unsure of what to do to conceal his growing desire.

His choice, palpable against his thighs, was a blazing reminder of his desperate need. The absence of female companionship for so long had heightened his desire, leaving him in a state of almost uncontrollable excitement. Jonathan's labored breathing did not go unnoticed by you, your attentive gaze, who, concerned about his sudden distress, placed a soft and elegantly manicured hand on his shoulder. The slight brush of your hand against his skin sent waves of electric sensations through Jon, moistening his underwear slightly with the pre-cum escaping from the tip of his sensitive bulge. The slight friction against his underwear only intensified his ecstasy, plunging him into a state of overwhelming pleasure.

From your point of view, Jonathan seemed on the verge of fainting, a concern that soon became a reality as the boy lost consciousness due to overexcitement. Skillfully, you held him as best you could and placed him on the sofa, watching him with concern as you considered your options. The idea of seeking medical help crossed your mind, but before you could act, something caught your attention. As you stooped to pick up a fallen object, you inadvertently exposed your buttocks and inner thighs close to the photographer's face. A nervous cough escaped from the boy's lips as he pretended to be asleep, trying to hide his growing excitement. However, once again, his tent gave him away before your eyes, who now faced an uncomfortable and tense situation.

After the awkward moment, you chose to act as if nothing had happened, aware that these situations were quite common in your profession. You decided to give Jonathan a few minutes to calm down, although you noticed that this boy was different: shy, charming, and respectful, as he made no comments about your body, which you quite liked.

After some time, you returned to face the camera, but this time the session took an unexpected turn. You incorporated cherries into your poses, strategically placing them on your nipples, causing the pink juice to seductively slide down your skin. With sensual movements, you bit the cherries and slid them over your abdomen, even above your intimate area. For Jonathan, this was completely different from what he had imagined photographing, but at the same time, it was exciting and fascinating. You, without averting your gaze from the camera, began to lightly touch yourself with the cherries, asking Jonathan if the image looked good. Unable to articulate a coherent response, Jonathan simply nodded with a "uhu" between his slightly parted lips, completely absorbed in the tempting vision before him.

Jonathan's excitement drove him to want to explore further, so he proposed to you to strike more provocative poses he had seen in old magazines. You readily accepted, but it soon became clear that you did not understand Jonathan's instructions, leading you to ask for help. With some hesitation, Jonathan approached you and asked permission to touch you, eliciting a playful giggle from you. No one had been so considerate with you before. With delicate, long hands, Jonathan positioned himself between your thighs, gently parting them to leave you fully exposed. With his other arm, he tilted your torso slightly towards the sofa, causing your buttocks to inadvertently brush against his erection, which was now vigorous again. You made no comment, as you were not at all displeased with the size, on the contrary, you began to find it attractive, especially now that it was positioned this way for the photos.

Jonathan lamented with great embarrassment, moving away from you.

He was preparing to take the photo when you removed the scant fabric covering your intimacy, leaving it completely exposed in front of Jon, who felt all the tension in his body melt away. The intimacy shared in that moment created a special bond between you, a connection that went beyond the photo shoot.

Confused but intrigued by your proposal, Byers asked you what you were doing. With a mischievous look and a suggestive smile, you responded that you wanted to experiment even more and find out if Jonathan was really the best. This statement ignited a spark in Jonathan, who let the camera rest on his neck and approached you, his palpable excitement filling the air. "What do you mean?" he murmured.

Your response unleashed a wave of desire in Jonathan, whose breathing became faster and shallower at your passionate touch on his tight and erect jeans. His hips instinctively moved closer to you, eager for the intimate contact you offered.

Far from rejecting him, you responded to Jonathan's desire with equal passion, touching and kissing every inch of the fabric covering his manhood. However, a question lingered in your mind: Was Jonathan just another virgin?

Without wasting time, you began to caress Jonathan's thighs, ascending from his knees to underneath them, causing an overwhelming sensation in Jonathan, who was on the verge of exploding.

With deliberate slowness, you proceeded to unfasten Jonathan's worn-out belt, while licking your lips with anticipation and watching him from below, enjoying the expression of desperation on his face, craving more of your expertise.

Finally, Jonathan's pants fell to the ground, revealing boxers stained by the pre-cum escaping from his overflowing excitement. The feeling of constriction around his member was evident, so you didn't hesitate to lower them, freeing Jonathan's thick cock.

Jonathan couldn't believe it. He was going to be sucked by a girl with a scandalous body.

His cock was firm and throbbing, generously sized, and adorned with prominent veins that marked its vigor. The head was swollen and glossy, dripping with the essence of his uncontrollable desire. With each beat, it seemed to throb with a life of its own, eager to be caressed and adored by the goddess before it. Some spasms caused the cock to rise slightly.

With a lustful gaze, you leaned forward, bringing your face closer to Jonathan's thick cock. Your breath became irregular, anticipating the taste and texture of the throbbing member that was about to be explored. With deliberate movements, you wrapped your lips around the swollen tip of Jonathan's cock, savoring the prelude to his excitement. The sensation of warmth and moisture enveloped every inch of his member, sending waves of pleasure throughout his body.

With expert skill, you began to slide your tongue along Jonathan's long shaft, tracing tempting circles as you slowly descended towards the base. Each suction was a promise of ecstasy, each movement of your lips an invitation to deeper pleasure. Jonathan clung to the sofa, overwhelmed by the intensity of the sensations that engulfed him.

When Jonathan's cock disappeared completely into the warm cavern of your mouth, a guttural groan escaped from his lips, lost in the ecstasy of the moment. Your movements were expert and coordinated, alternating between gentle sucking and quick thrusts that made Jonathan quiver with pleasure.

Time seemed to stand still as you continued your work, bringing Jonathan to the edge of the abyss of pleasure. Each stroke of your tongue, each passionate suction, brought him closer and closer to the precipice of orgasm.

And then, just as Jonathan felt he could no longer hold back, you intensified your movements, bringing him to the most glorious climax. With a muffled cry, Jonathan surrendered to the wave of pleasure that overwhelmed him, releasing his load of ecstasy into your mouth, gripping your head tightly, restricting your movement. In that moment, he didn't think about Nancy or any other model, only about you.

With skill, you received every drop of his cum with devotion, allowing Jonathan's essence to slide over your tongue and fill your mouth with its intoxicating flavor. But when it seemed to be all done, Jonathan shot another stream onto your face, causing a mischievous smile from you, thinking that it would be the perfect moment to take a photo, finding yourself damn sexy.

And when Jonathan finally finished, you moved away slowly, allowing your gaze to meet his, your faces bathed in the And when Jonathan finally finished, you moved away slowly, allowing your gaze to meet his, your faces bathed in the shared ecstasy of a moment of unbridled passion.

"You've got a good cock, photographer," you whispered, giving him a spank, winking at him, and wiping your face with your golden robe, leaving it covered in traces of that hot liquid.

—> Plus.

"Brother, look at the cover of the new PlayBoy!" exclaimed Argyle, entering his van and throwing a magazine at Jonathan, surprising him. "I just stole it from the gas station attendant while he was peeing, so we should go now..."

On the cover, your lustful eyes stared directly at the camera, while the liquid rested on your face, causing a familiar sensation in Jonathan's pants.

"I should have asked for her number before I got kicked out for fucking the model," Jonathan thought, sighing and throwing the magazine back. The page opened to a photo taken by him, where he played with the cherries and they dripped on your nipples.

[rainbow-nerdss]

In the summer of '86, Steve looks around at his friends, his kids, his hometown, all beaten to a pulp and barely recovered.

Nothing is open in Hawkins anymore, so he packs them in between his car and Nancy's and drives them all out to the next town over.

There's a new movie out, called Ferris Bueller's Day Off -- no monsters or demons or anything of the sort, he'd checked. He's going to give them a day of being normal kids for once in their damn lives. He buys the popcorn, Robin and Nancy go halves on the tickets, Eddie gets the drinks while Jonathan and Argyle are treating everyone to pizza afterwards.

The kids make a beeline for the best seats in the back row, while Steve files in next to the older kids about halfway back. He's between Robin and Eddie, Nancy on Robin's other side, Jonathan and Argyle next to Eddie.

The lights dim, the movie starts to play, and Steve feels Eddie's hand slip into his.

This is still new, only a few weeks since Steve had done the same while Eddie was still in hospital, not realising Eddie was awake until he squeezed back.

Steve doesn't know where they stand, but he knows he likes Eddie. He knows he likes this.

The movie is fun for the most part, but when Cameron comes on the screen, Steve feels... A familiarity which isn't exactly comfortable. Something about him digs at a soft patch in Steve's chest that he usually keeps shuttered away.

"The place is like a museum." Ferris says about Cameron's home. "It's very beautiful and very cold and you're not allowed to touch anything. Can you appreciate what it must have been like for Cameron to be in that joint as a baby?"

Steve's brow furrows. It isn't all that bad, is it? It sounds a lot like Steve's house, and Steve is--- well he's not fine, but he always figures the uosode down is the main culprit for that. His folks are dicks, but they haven't had that much of an effect on him, right?

The first tear falls when Cameron looks at that painting in the gallery. The face of the child in the painting grows less and less distinct the longer he looks until it's just a mess of colour, with no substance. The image burns itself onto Steve's retinas and he squeezes Eddie's hand so tight, Eddie looks away from the screen, face falling at the sight of Steve crying silently in the theatre.

"Are you okay?" He leans over and whispers it in Steve's ear so as not to bother anyone. Steve just blinks away the tears and nods. It's a comedy movie. Just a movie.

And Steve enjoys it, he really does. He thinks it might be a new favourite actually, Ferris is funny and kind of an asshole in a lovable way, the way Steve always aimed for in high school but never quite achieved. Ferris hijacks a fucking parade to cheer up his friend, Ferris is what Steve always wanted to be, but Cameron is who he is.

Steve wonders if Eddie would hijack a parade for him. He thinks maybe he would.

Steve watches as Cameron loses it, goes into shock, and later when he kicks his asshole of a dad's car into the trees, Steve feels a sort of secondhand catharsis.

"You gonna tell me what's up?" Eddie asks, idling in the car outside of Steve's house after the kids are all dropped home.

"I think I wanna fuck up my dad's car?" Steve says, aiming a sheepish look over at Eddie.

Eddie grins, leans across the console and kisses Steve for the first time.

"Fuck, yeah. You still got that bat?"

[your-stranger-halfblood-things]

Lonnie: Of course you grew up to have pronouns

Jonathan:

Jonathan: Yes. I'm human

[shieldofiron]

Vibe Check Part 7

True Bromance

The Frat Boy Au

Read Previous on Ao3 or tumblr.

Carver is the type to get flushed when he drinks too much. He’s as pink cheeked as a choir boy as he dismounts from the mechanical bull with a little bow.

Billy’s showing is just shameful, and he can admit defeat easily in the face of such talent. He whoops and cheers along with Carver’s crowd of admirers, reaching out for the Theta handshake when Carver makes his way over.

“Shit, you weren’t kidding,” Billy slurs, throwing an arm over Carver’s shoulders when they finish shaking. “Your not-boyfriend’s a lucky guy.”

Carver snorts, “Don’t I know it.”

It takes a little work to get through the appreciative throng and back towards the bar. The whole place smells like spilled beer and sawdust and Billy’s feeling good. Better than good. And yeah, part of that is that he feels the alcohol, his arm heavy and his feet slow.

“How are we gonna get back to the house?” Carver asks when Billy stumbles and sags against him.

“I can call someone.”

“Who? Harrington?”

Billy must be making a face because Carver snaps his mouth shut, depositing Billy onto a barstool with a grunt.

“As if he would. He’s too busy with his new,” Billy hiccups, “girlfriend.”

“I’m not sure she’s his girlfriend,” Carver says.

Billy’s brain is working slower than normal and what Carver says just… doesn’t compute.

“Please. If she isn't yet, she will be. Stevie’s so… smart and kind and… bitchy,” Billy covers his face, “fuck. I’m sorry. I just never get to talk about this. It probably doesn't make any sense.”

Carver pats him awkwardly on the arm.

He’s not crying yet, but he feels like he could be. The more time he knows Steve the harder it gets when Steve gets girlfriends. And it’s completely unfair of Billy to hold onto it.

“Sometimes I just want to yell at him. Like a fuckin’... Riverdale character.” Billy mumbles.

Unfortunately for him, the Cottonmouth is the kind of bar where they play soulful Orville Peck and not pounding club classics and so Carver actually hears him.

Carver sits up, “Which character?”

Billy peeks between his fingers, “Cheryl Blossom.”

Carver whistles, “That’s bad.” He pauses for a moment, glancing at the bar. “What would you say?”

“I’d say… Do you really not know?” Billy says after a pause of his own. “Or is this all just some kind of game for you. Do you not know what you do to me? Or do you?”

Carver toys idly with the bowl of nasty peanuts on the bar in front of them. “My… boyfriend. Who isn’t a boyfriend… he’s in the closet.”

Billy shrugs, “And you aren’t?”

“I mean… not really. I’m part of the LGBTQIA plus club. Argyle wants me to speak at this greek inclusivity event, which like feels… I’m just a white gay. But, whatever,” Carver says.

“Shit. Where have I been?”

“With your head up Harrington’s ass,” Carver smirks.

Billy scowls at him, and Carver scowls right back, an expression that looks oddly adorable with his pink cheeks.

“Anyway. My not boyfriend used to be um, bullied in high school. Theta is the first place he’s been accepted.” Carver flicks the edge of the peanut cup with a forlorn little sigh. “So I can’t even be Cheryl Blossom about it. I have to be Betty fucking Cooper.”

“Ugh.”

“I know.”

“But you’re out. He could still be accepted and gay,” Billy frowns.

“That’s my advice to you,” Carver scrunches his nose up.

“Can I get you anything,” The bartender breaks Billy’s concentration.

“Tequila!” Billy cries.

“Don’t listen to him. We’ll close my tab, under Carver, C-A-R-V,” Carver smacks Billy’s hand away from where he’s unsuccessfully trying to cover Jason’s mouth. “Actually if you have bottled water we’ll take two.”

The bartender seems all too happy to leave them and fetch it.

Billy pouts a little, “No tequila.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m a huge bummer, I know.”

“Is that why your boyfri- wait. He’s in Theta?” Billy gasps audibly. Like this really is an episode of Riverdale.

Carver shakes his head, “N-no, he’s just in a frat.”

“No, you said Theta. Oh my God! You should just both be out! It would be less weird if I wasn’t the only gay guy in the frat.”

“He won’t,” Carver hisses.

“And then we can all go out and-”

“We can’t,” Carver says desperately.

“Why not?” Billy whines.

“Because I’m the bully!” Carver yells.

Billy blinks at him. The bartender blinks at him. The mustachioed bear with a hat that says Pride & Poppers blinks at him.

“I used to call him all sorts of sh-sh-stuff when I hated myself. And now he just wants to be free of that and me and I don’t really blame him.”

“But you’re all still together?” Billy frowns.

“Yeah.”

“When did that start?”

Carver sucks in a breath, “Last year.”

“That sucks, man.”

Carver just shakes his head an infinitesimal amount, looking down at his lap.

“So you all just hook up but he doesn’t… he…”

“Hates me. Yeah.” Carver says with finality.

“That’s pretty messed up. I’m sorry.”

Carver looks down and then up, sniffling a little. “Who do we call to go home?”

Billy wants to say something but he doesn’t even know what. Move on? As if Billy wasn’t the king of hanging onto unrequited love way past the point of what’s healthy. He hadn’t even danced with a twink tonight, too upset to deal with it.

“Carver, I didn’t mean that was messed up like… like you’re messed up. Have you apologized to him?”

“Like… all the time.”

“You deserve to be happy. You both do. This sounds… bad. Toxic and shit.”

Carver laughs, a dry, angry little huff. “When are we gonna get into your big bad secret, Cheryl?”

“I’m an open book, Betty,” Billy throws his hands out, nearly falling off the stool, clinging to the bar to regain his balance.

“Why aren’t you out to Theta?” Carver nods to the bartender as he brings back the water and Carver’s card. Billy’s not so drunk that he doesn’t notice the scribbled number and ‘Text me’ at the bottom.

“That reason goes by the name of one Steven Alessandro Harrington,” Billy sighs. “And my dad, a little bit.”

“Not accepting?” Carver raises a brow.

“Try abusive as fuck,” Billy shakes his head. “He’s still like… in my head. I want to come out but… then I met Steve. And I don’t want Steve to get weird. I think it might actually break me.”

“You think he’d be weird about it? Really?”

Billy boops Carver on his tiny little nose, “I don’t want to find out.”

“We really are two peas in a pod, huh?” Carver shakes his head, tapping his water bottle against the one Billy’s limply holding.

“Why don’t we call your not boyfriend for a ride. I’d love to tell him that hate sex with you for a year is fucked up and he’s an asshole.” Billy grins.

“As much as I appreciate the sentiment, I’m unfortunately in love with him. So please don’t. I’m working on it.” Carver slouches. “Lets go home.”

Billy yanks his phone out, even though it takes a few tries, “Fine. Have it your way. I’ll call us a ride.”

Luckily the number is saved in his favorites as ‘Daddy.’

Billy dials, grinning when it doesn’t even get to two rings.

“Where’d you get off to, dickhole.”

“Eden,” He slurs. “We need you.”

[ladykailitha]

Royal Pain: Epilogue

I know I said I would hold off posting until the Christmas story was completed, but this one literally had one chapter left and it felt rude to make you wait for it.

Happy boys!

Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3 Pt 4 Pt 5 Pt 6 Pt 7 Pt 8 Pt 9 Pt 10 Pt 11 Pt 12 Pt 13 Pt 14 Pt 15 Pt 16 Pt 17 Pt 18 Pt 19 Pt 20 Pt 21 Meta Pt 22 Pt 23 Pt 24|Pt 25|Pt 26|Pt 27|Pt 28

****

Six months later:

They were having a holiday plus everyone celebrating something awesome party.

It was held at Steve and Eddie’s new house. Steve had decided to move out the apartment and buy a house now that the business was so successful. And on their six month anniversary, Steve asked Eddie to move in with him.

It had two studios. A music one for Eddie, where he could write songs and the boys could practice so that they no longer had to rent out that garage.

The second one was for Steve to get his art degree. He was still running Royal Pain, but wanted to learn new styles and techniques that would help him become a better tattoo artist.

Chrissy, Robin, and Vickie had also moved into together, but into a bigger apartment that had three rooms so that they could all have their own space, but still remain a committed polycule.

Argyle and Chrissy were both full time tattoo artists, leaving time for Steve to go back to school.

Robin was going back to school, too. To become a translator.

Eden and Argyle were still a couple and expecting their first child in the summer.

Nancy and Jonathan remained broken up, with Nancy in therapy and Jonathan dating a friend of Miranda’s.

Jeff and Miranda were getting married in February, the reception to be held at the Nightmare Holes.

Mike and Will were official now, too and were in talks to move in together. They were trying to decide to move to Will’s apartment, Mike’s, or a find another apartment all together. One that was both their space.

Erica had moved to New York to be with Max and Lucas. But all of them were in town for the party. Having planned it around when the Knicks would be in town.

Hopper was loving Eden as his apprentice, hers almost being up. He was eyeing the first of the year to promote her.

Brian came out as ace and that Cecil was his platonic life partner and had been for the last couple of years.

Gareth and Gethin were still sharing the apartment, but they were still single. Gethin was always looking for the next Mrs Hughes, but Gareth was content to find out more about himself before diving into a relationship.

Dustin and Suzie were also expecting, but they had just found earlier that week.

The Binghams were so excited that two of their daughters were pregnant and were planning to come up in the summer to help with Eden’s baby and help Suzie get ready for hers.

They were all gathered around in the kitchen with a package that Murray had sent over that morning.

“Come on, Ed,” Wayne said softly. “Open ‘er up.”

Eddie nodded and tore the brown paper off the gift. He let out a choked out sob.

Steve put his arm around Eddie’s shoulder.

“Oh sunshine,” Steve breathed. “Show everyone.”

Eddie nodded and lifted it over his head so everyone could see.

There in a black frame and nestled in a white background was a gold record for their song, Pretty Boy Under Bright Lights. The first love song Eddie ever wrote for Steve. And it had just sold its five hundred thousand copy.

They all started cheering.

Steve kissed Eddie’s cheek fiercely. “See? I knew you could do it on your terms, Eds. You are a rockstar now.”

Tears ran down his cheeks nodding his head. Then he was surrounded by his band. They were hugging him and cheering.

Sometimes it really does work out for everyone. Even if didn’t happen the way they thought it would.

Eddie thought back to that day so long ago when Max had called him to let him know that she was leaving. He never thought that losing a tattoo artist would change his life forever.

Later that night, he pulled her aside.

“I owe you big time, Red,” he said, wrapping his arm around her.

Max grinned. “Hell yeah you do.”

“Anything you want, you’ve got,” Eddie promised. “My left kidney. My first child.”

She laughed. “When you two get married, I want to do matching tattoos on both of you.”

Eddie blinked. “Deal!”

Steve wandered over just then. “What’s a deal?”

Max grinned up at him. “Eddie just promised me that I get to do wedding tats when you two get married.”

Steve looked at Eddie and then back to Max. “Yeah, that’s fair.”

Max nodded once. “Damn straight it is.”

“Oh, honey,” Eddie teased. “There ain’t nothing straight about this relationship.”

She smacked his arm.

But Eddie just giggled.

“Come on,” Max said. “I want to see it.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “You saw it on my Insta.”

“It’s not the same and you know it,” she growled. “I want to see Steve’s masterpiece.”

Steve blushed. “Come on, Max...”

Eddie looked at his blush and then turned to Max. “Fine. But here and not out there where everyone can gawk.”

“Well, duh,” she said. “That’s why I asked now.”

Eddie took off his shirt and turned around.

“Oh shit,’ she hissed. “It’s even better than the pictures give it credit. Steve, this is incredible. There’s no way I could have done something like that.”

Steve ducked his head. “I really really like how it turned out.”

Eddie put his shirt back on. “Yeah. Me too. I just don’t like showing it off, because it’s so personal. Between me and Steve.”

Max nodded. “Yeah. Absolutely. Thanks for showing me.”

Eddie nodded back and wrapped his arms around, Steve. “Thanks for everything, Red.”

She waved them off. All she had done was leave. But they didn’t see it that way. So yeah, they owed everything to Max, for choosing to live her life on her own terms.

“Before we go back to the party,” Steve said. “I wanted to give you another present before we got to the main one later.”

Eddie’s shoulder sagged. “Babe you didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to,” Steve said scratching his cheek. “In fact it was something I’ve been meaning to give to you for a long time.”

He pulled out a brightly wrapped package the size of baseball.

“This isn’t a baseball, is it?” Eddie asked playfully.

Steve laughed. “No. It’s not that.”

Eddie removed the wrapping paper to find a small black velvet box. He opened it slowly.

“Babe, you can’t give this to me,” he begged. “This is the only thing you have left of your grandpa.”

Steve took it out and slid it on Eddie’s middle finger on his right hand. It fit perfectly. “I’ve been wanting you to have it since you gave me your lucky guitar pick. I wanted to give you something that was on the same level of importance to me that this was for you.” He tapped the pick gently that was under his shirt.

“It’s not–you’re not–”

Steve shook his head. “I will propose. Just not yet and not with that. You’ll get a ring on your left hand, sunshine. Make no mistake.”

Eddie nodded. “I love you, babe.”

“Steven Courtney Alexander Harrington you better not be making out in there!”

Eddie and Steve laughed and kissed deeply, then they walked back to the party, arms wrapped around each other.

“Right names, wrong order,” Eddie teased as they rejoined the group.

Robin blinked. “Wait, really?”

Steve nodded.

“I can’t believe you told him before you told me!” Robin hissed. “I was here first!”

“But I liked watching you guess,” he said laughing. Then he turned to the rest of the crowd. “Who told?”

Robin wiggled her shoulders smugly. “No one told me. I looked up your grandparents. They’re both pretty famous, after all.”

Steve sighed. “Again which of you told her to look it up?”

Robin’s jaw dropped and Vickie’s hand slowly went up.

“Traitor!” Robin said in mock outrage.

Eddie leaned down to see that Steve was pouting about her learning his middle name.

“Don’t worry about it, babe,” he said kissing Steve’s cheek. “We can make her guess my middle name.”

Steve immediately brightened up. “Oohhh. Yeah, okay. It’ll take her years to guess yours!”

“It’s Wayne,” Robin said confidently.

Wayne snorted from the corner. “You really think my deadbeat brother would name his son after me, the responsible one?”

She frowned.

Steve turned to Eddie gleefully. “You’re right, sunshine. Best game ever.”

Robin started shouting out names and it wasn’t even Eddie correcting her. It was Jeff, and Miranda, and Gareth, and Brian and everyone else who knew Eddie’s middle name.

And of course Steve knew it too, but he liked watching their friends and family laugh and try to guess. Because the truth was, Eddie didn’t have a middle name. Robin could guess forever and never get it right.

Steve curled up against Eddie’s side and sighed happily. It was his best year yet. And as long as he had Eddie by his side, they would all be great years to come.

END

****

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[once-upon-an-imagine]

Love Stinks - Eddie Munson & Steve Harrington

A/N: aahhh! idk how I was able to complete this but I was!😊 hope you loves like it! also this is kinda set in a bit into the future and Eddie and Argyle work at the Hideout

Request -  Anonymous asked: Uh uh steddie dialog? Maybe something where the reader gets stood up/ghosted for being chubby and the 2 boys tell her she's perfect the way she is and then confess? Sorry I'm bot good with requests ^^;

Warnings: reader gets drunk and gets stood up, causing her to feel insecure but steddie to the rescue!

Disclaimer: I don’t own Stranger Things :) gif isn’t mine :D 

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

Love Stinks

I’ve had the blues, the reds and the pinks One thing for sure (Love stinks) Love stinks, yeah, yeah  

“Hello?”

“Munson?”

“Argyle?”

“Yeah, sorry to bother you, man, I know it’s your night off but… I think you might want to come over to the bar” Argyle said through the phone.

“Why? Is everything okay?”

“Look, there’s no way for me to say this that you’re not gonna freak out and tell Harrington but… your girl’s drunk, man” he told him.

“What? How drunk?” Eddie asked, getting Steve’s attention. Before Argyle could respond, he heard the music in the background and what was very distinctively your voice.

You didn't know what you were lookin' for Till you heard the voices in your ear

“Well… ‘getting-on-the-bar-and-singing-Cheap-Trick’s-Voices’ drunk” he admitted before Eddie heard you again.

Hey, it's me again Plain, you see again Please, can I see you every day?

“Shit! Why? What happened?”

“What’s wrong? Is everything okay?” Steve asked, walking closer to Eddie.

“Princess is drunk” Eddie informed him.

I'm a fool again I fell in love with you again Please, can I see you every day?

“She asked me not to tell anyone-”

“Argyle!”

“Dude! She’s fine, okay? I’m keeping an eye on her, I just thought you two should know and maybe you should come get her” Argyle told him.

“Okay, fine. Thanks, man. We’re on our way” Eddie said, hanging up the phone.

“What’s going on?” Steve asked as Eddie grabbed his coat and Steve’s.

“Well, she’s at the bar and apparently she’s really drunk” he informed him.

“How drunk?”

“You remember how drunk you got for Buckley’s birthday?” Eddie smirked and Steve glared at him. “Drunker” he said as they left the apartment you three shared.

It wasn’t even ten minutes before the two entered the bar, thanks to Eddie driving and almost killing them (according to Steve).

“Do you see her anywhere?” Steve asked, looking through the sea of people.

“Uh, yeah” Eddie said, pointing at the bar where you stood, dancing happily to a new song now.

You love her, but she loves him And he loves somebody else You just can't win

And so it goes 'til the day you die This thing they call love It's gonna make you cry

“Oh, shit, this isn’t good” Steve muttered as he and Eddie tried to make their way over to you. You were putting on a very convincing show, having almost everyone in the bar cheering for you and singing along with you. You even swung, pointing at Argyle so he would join you at the chorus.

I've had the blues The reds and the pinks One thing’s for sure

(Love stinks) Love stinks, yeah, yeah (Love stinks) Love stinks, yeah, yeah (Love stinks) Love stinks, yeah, yeah (Love stinks) Love stinks, yeah, yeah

“Dude! What the fuck is going on?” Steve asked Argyle when they finally reached the bar while you grabbed Jonathan to have him get up and dance with you. Eddie was certain he was as high as Argyle since he seemed pretty excited to sing with you.

“She’s killing it, man” Argyle said before he cheered for you.

“Why is she this drunk?” Steve asked.

“She was having a tough night” Argyle shrugged.

“Why?” Eddie and Steve questioned at the same time.

Two by two, and side by side Love's gonna find you, yes, it is You just can't hide

You'll hear it call, your heart will fall Then love will fly… it's gonna soar I don't care for any Casanova thing All I can say is

“Sorry, man, I pinky swore I wouldn’t tell you” Argyle informed them.

“Argyle, this isn’t funny!”

“I know, dude, but there’s no way I’m breaking a pinky swear to my favorite dude!”

“Enough of this shit” Eddie muttered. “Princess!” Eddie yelled at you. You turned around and smiled when you saw your two best friends there. “Get down from there!”

Your smile turned into a quick smirk as you yelled before you continued singing and dancing with Jonathan. “NO!”

(Love stinks) Love stinks, yeah, yeah (Love stinks) Love stinks, yeah, yeah (Love stinks) Love stinks, yeah, yeah (Love stinks) Love stinks, yeah, yeah

“Sweetheart!” Steve tried, but you ignored both of them. “Eddie, do something!”

“What do you want me to do, get up there and physically pull her down?”

“Well, you got a better idea?”

“I’m not going up there, pretty boy” he smirked. “You want her down, you pull her down!”

I've been through diamonds I've been through minks I've been through it all

(Love stinks) Love stinks, yeah, yeah (Love stinks) Love stinks, yeah, yeah

“Hey, sweetheart” Steve said, getting up on the bar. You turned around and smiled when you saw him, throwing your arms around him.

“Stevie!” you said, happily. “Come dance with me and Johnny!”

“No, we’re going home” he told you.

“No! I don’t wanna go home” you pouted. “I’m having fun!”

“You’re drunk!”

“You’re drunk!” you giggled, making Steve roll his eyes and look back at Eddie, who kept smirking from behind the bar with Argyle.

“Come on, love. We’re leaving” he said, grabbing you by your waist.

“No!” you complained as Steve started pulling you down from the bar. “Argyle! I can’t believe you betrayed me like this!”

“I told them nothing, my dude! I pinky-swear!” he said, truthfully, holding his pinky up.

Love stinks, yeah, yeah (Love stinks) Love stinks, yeah, yeah (Love stinks) Love stinks, yeah, yeah (Love stinks) Love stinks, yeah, yeah (Love stinks)

“Let’s go, Munson!” Steve told Eddie as you glared at him.

“I tried to warn you, princess” he shrugged, smirking at you as the two of them dragged you out of the bar.

You sat in the back of Steve’s car as he now drove you back to your apartment with Eddie sitting next to him.

“So…” Eddie said, looking back at you.

“So…? What?” you glared at him.

“Are you just going to act as if nothing happened?” Steve asked, looking at you through the rearview mirror.

“Nothing happened” you shrugged. “I was having fun until you two got there and ruined it” you said, a bit harshly. You knew it wasn’t their fault that you were having a shitty night, but you couldn’t help it.

“Come on, princess” Eddie said, stretching his arm to place his hand on your knee but his heart broke a little when you moved away to look through the window and you crossed your arms over your chest. “Look, don’t be mad at Argyle, okay? He was worried because you got really drunk and-”

“I’m not mad at Argyle” you clarified.

“Are you… mad at us?” Steve asked, nervously.

“No” you simply said.

“Then-”

“I don’t want to talk about it” you told them.

Eddie and Steve turned to look at each other sadly. This wasn’t like you at all. You never got this drunk, even less when you weren’t with either one of them… or Argyle. And you never iced them out. Whenever you were upset you would always come to them.

“Okay, love” Eddie nodded sadly, giving up.

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

The rest of the ride was in complete silence except for the faint sound of the radio. As soon as you reached your apartment, you got out of the car and quickly made your way inside, hoping that Steve and Eddie would just drop the whole thing and let you go to sleep.

“Thanks for the ride” you said, quickly making your way to your door. “Goodnight-”

“Wait, love” Eddie said, walking over to you and pulling you back. You sighed tiredly and turned to look at him. “I know you said you don’t want to talk but… we just want to know if you're okay-”

“I’m fine” you insisted.

“Sweetheart” Steve said, sadly, walking closer to you. “Did something happen on your date?”

You grunted frustrated, moving away from the both of them and crossing your arms in front of your chest. “Ugh! I knew Argyle told you!”

“He didn't tell us anything, but we know you had a date, and then hours later he calls us saying that you're alone at the bar and really drunk so what happened?” Eddie asked.

“Nothing happened!”

“Don’t lie to us, princess-” he insisted.

“I’m not lying!”

“Did he do anything to you?” Steve asked, worriedly.

“No-!”

“Did he hurt you?” Eddie asked, getting upset.

“No-!”

“Did he say anything to you-?”

“No! He didn’t even show up okay?” you snapped with a few tears finally running down your cheeks. “Are you happy? Is that what you wanted to know? He stood me up! I got stood up! He never showed!” you yelled, making Steve and Eddie feel extremely upset. “Or, maybe he did and he saw me and then he left!” you laughed, bitterly.

“Love, don’t say that” Steve tried.

“Why not? It could have happened!”

“Well, then he’s an idiot!” Eddie told you.

“Right” you sighed. “You guys have to say that” you muttered.

“No, we're not just saying that” Steve insisted.

“Whatever! I said I don’t want to talk about it!” you said trying to walk to your room again but Steve stopped you this time.

“Princess” Eddie said. “We just want to know how to make you feel better. We hate seeing you upset. Especially over some fucking prick that doesn’t even deserve your tears-”

“I’m not upset! And it’s not your job to make me feel better!”

“Love, you’re crying and we had to go pick you up because you got drunk!” Steve explained.

“Oh my god! Stop making such a big deal out of this! Is not like you two never get drunk! I don't even care about that stupid guy! I can't even remember his name, I'm not sure if it was Ryan or Brian or… I kinda wanna say Kyan but I know that's not right-”

“Well, then what happened? What are you not telling us?”

“NOTHING! I said I don’t want to talk about it!” you snapped, starting to walk to your room again but, again, Steve stopped you.

“Sweetheart, we’re just worried okay, this isn’t like you-”

“Maybe it is, Steve” you snapped. “Maybe this is like me. Okay? I was having fun until you two dragged me back here” you told them. “You know what? No, I don’t want to talk about this! Especially with you two!”

“What?” Steve asked, hurt.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Eddie asked, equally hurt. “Princess, we are your best friends, you can tell us anything!”

“No, okay? Not this! I don’t want you two to tell me again how everything’s gonna be okay and that I’m going to find someone who loves me and that I’m beautiful-”

“But you are-”

“No! Just stop it! You guys don’t get it! Okay? And it’s not your fault, I mean why should you?” you said turning to him. “Literally every girl in our school wanted to go out with at least one of you. Shit, every girl that walks down the street and looks at you flirts with you!” you told him. “Girls come to me all the time to ask about who you’re dating and asking me to give you their numbers! You don’t get that it’s not the same for me. Nobody loves me like that” you said, with a few tears escaping your eyes. “Guys aren’t lining up dying to date me. When I walk into a room, everyone's head doesn't turn. People don't laugh extra hard at my jokes. The world is different for people like you two” you explained.

“But sweetheart-”

“Princess-”

“Look, I don’t expect you to get it” you sighed. “I don't- I really don't want to talk about it anymore, okay? Please just… leave me alone” you said, this time, they finally let you walk away to your room and you closed your door behind you.

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

After about two hours, you were still tossing and turning on your bed, unable to fall asleep. You hated fighting with Steve and Eddie. You hated it more because you weren’t even mad at them, and they were just trying to be nice. But tonight just felt like a wake-up call, bringing up your very much pushed-down feelings for both of them. Yes, both of them. You were madly in love with both of your friends and you knew that there was no possible way that either one of them would feel that way about you. Which is why you ended up at The Hideout, drinking your feelings away and pouring your heart to Argyle who was the only one that knew. And now here you were, all cried out, heartbroken and very thirsty. You cursed silently when you noticed your water bottle was empty. You would have to go outside. And that meant, you would have to face them. You knew they weren’t asleep. You could hear them doing God knows what this entire time. You sighed and knowing there was no use in hiding from them. They would camp outside your door if they needed to and sooner or later, you would have to face them. So, you grabbed your bottle, got up, and when you opened the door, you gasped, shocked.

You were definitely not prepared to see your small living room like this. Fairy lights were hung everywhere. The furniture was moved to the side and Steve and Eddie’s mattresses were pushed together in the middle with your favorite blanket and theirs. And the two of them were currently in the kitchen, making a mess of it like they always did.

“Hey, sunshine” Steve smiled, noticing you first and making Eddie look at you.

“Hi, princess” he smiled sweetly too.

“What are you two still doing up?”

“Well, remember when we moved in and we didn’t have anything other than our mattresses?” Eddie said, bringing two mugs of tea to the living room as Steve carried everything else on a tray.

“And then, we would do this every time one of us was feeling down?” he told you.

“Yeah, like every time Steve’s parents are in town and he has to have dinner with them” Eddie said.

“Or when Eddie thought he lost the teddy bear you made him that looked like him with a Hellfire t-shirt-”

“Shut up, Harrington! I found it in your car-!”

“The point is, we know you had a hard night, and… we’re sorry we pushed you to talk about it when you said you didn’t want to. We should have just done this in the first place-”

“No! Stop! Why are you being so nice to me?”

“What are you talking about? Why wouldn’t we be?”

“Because I was horrible to you!”

“Sweetheart, you were upset” Eddie insisted. “You don’t have to talk to us if you don’t want to, but we wanted to help make you feel better” he smiled.

“There was also, um-” Steve started, sharing a look with Eddie who nodded at him to go on. “W-we, wanted to um- tell you something” he said, nervously.

“C’mere?” Eddie asked, offering you his hand so you would join them.

You rolled your eyes, knowing you wouldn’t be able to say no to them if they were being sweet and looking at you with their beautiful eyes like that. You hesitantly agreed and walked over to sit between the two of them as Eddie gave you your mug of tea.

“Thanks” you muttered, grabbing it and taking a sip.

“Look, princess, Steve and I have been talking for a couple of days now, and… there’s something we think you should know” Eddie started, a bit nervously.

“Is something wrong? Are you guys okay?” you asked, sitting up and placing your tea aside. It was extremely rare when they guys were this serious.

“Everything is okay, sunshine” Steve assured you. “We just um…” he sighed.

“Well, what you told us today kind of made us want to finally tell you” Eddie continued.

“We want you to know that we will both respect how you feel about this and if you don’t ever want to talk to us again, we understand” Steve told you.

“Guys, what is going on? You’re scaring me” you said, nervously. Steve and Eddie shared one final look before they both turned to you again.

“We… love you… we both do” Steve started.

“Like… we're both in love with you” Eddie added.

“Guys if this is some kind of joke, it is incredibly cruel-”

“What? No love, this isn't a joke!” Steve told you.

“We would never joke about this!” Eddie pressed.

“So you two just… expect me to believe that you, both of you, are in love with… me?”

“Well yes, why wouldn’t we?” Steve asked, confused.

“Why would you?”

“Because you’re the best person that we know! You're thoughtful and funny and kind and beautiful-” Steve started.

“And hot, and a badass-” Eddie added, smirking.

“Yes, you are too wonderful and perfect we… well, we want to be with you” Steve explained.

“B-both of you?” you asked, still not believing that this could be true.

“Yes” the two of them nodded. “Look, Steve and I were… actually talking tonight about how we feel about each other and… how we felt about you. We know it’s not fair but… when you told us you had a date we both-”

“We hated that asshole the minute you told us” Steve interrupted. “We were both jealous and it… it made us unable to deny how we felt any longer” he told you.

“About each other and… about you” Eddie said. “We know this is a lot to take in and we really don’t want you to feel obligated to return these feelings or we don’t even know if you only like one of us or either of us but… we just… we couldn’t really stand the thought of you not thinking that nobody loved you like that, and we hate that asshole for making you feel that way because you are perfect” Eddie said.

“Our heads definitely turn when you walk into a room, and we always laugh extra hard at your jokes. We want you to see yourself how we do because in our eyes there is nobody more perfect. And… we wanted to let you know and… well, we kinda hoped… you would want to be with us too” Steve said, hopefully.

“S-so you want to b-be with me and each other? W-we would all be t-together?” you asked feeling tears streaming down your face.

“Why are you crying?” Eddie asked, worriedly as they both scootched closer to you. “Did we fuck up?”

“Did we say something wrong?” Steve freaked out.

“N-no” you smiled, still with tears in your eyes. “No, it’s the opposite” you told them. “Everything you said was just…” you sighed. “I just… I never, in a million years, thought that… either one of you would like me, let alone both of you” you chuckled a little.

“Correction, we love you” Eddie told you making you laugh. “I mean we obviously like you but don’t sell us short, princess, we just confessed our love and shit” he smiled, wiping away the remaining tears.

“So, is that a yes?” Steve asked, smiling at you. You looked at both of them and grabbed each of their hands, feeling your heart flutter and bringing their hands together.

“Yes” you nodded, happily. “But… can we not kiss right now? I’m still a little drunk and there’s a part of me that still thinks this is a dream and I’m gonna wake up tomorrow by myself” you quickly added, making them laugh a little.

“Of course, sunshine” Steve said, kissing your temple.

“Whatever you want, princess” Eddie said at the same time, as he kissed your hand. “We’re taking you on a date tomorrow” he said.

“You don’t have to do that” you smiled.

“We want to” Steve insisted.

“Oh, and um… just so you guys know” you told them. “I love you both” you smiled, feeling your heart melt at the bright smiles they had on their faces.

“Me too” Steve said, pulling you and Eddie closer.

“Me three” Eddie smiled before the three of you settled down to watch movies and eat junk food.

The End

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

Songs: Voices - Cheap Trick Love Stinks -  J. Geils Band

A/N: I hope you loves like it! xD I’ll try to have more stories and dialogues up soon! :)

[mypoisonedvine]

omg if you are opening up request i neeeeeed more argyle. like maybe lazy sex or fucking at the pizza shop while he takes an order over the phone.

you're a genius for this one

warnings: smut (semi public blowjob), choking (because of said blowjob), hair pulling (kinda), friends with benefits

"Thanks for calling Surfer Boy Pizza, this is Argyle, may I take your order?"

Your manager had convinced him to skip the spiel about pineapple on pizza and just give the corporate-approved greeting to customers that call; but Argyle seemed kinda bummed about it, like that little bit of flair that made his day at work more interesting was gone.

Luckily, you had a sure way to cheer him up.

As you stepped closer, he glanced at you but didn't react much; he probably figured you were gonna brush past him to grab something from the cabinet. Instead, you dropped to your knees in front of him and reached to the waistband of his pants.

He opened his mouth, but he didn't say anything— he couldn't, that was the fun of it. "Y-yeah," he mumbled into the phone as you started to rub him through the fabric, feeling him get harder from your touch. "Yeah, a catering order? Okay, wh-what time would you like it delivered?"

He tilted the phone away from his mouth when you started to pull his pants down enough to get his cock out and smirk up at him.

"Are you crazy?" he hissed quietly. "Someone could come in—"

"Yeah," you agreed, "they might..."

Delivery drivers and cooks came through this part of the back plenty often, but only two other people were working today. It wasn't the first time you'd hooked up at work, but it was the most dangerous by a mile.

You took your visor off so it wouldn't get in the way, holding his dick (which had gotten hard very quickly) and licking it slowly— teasing him.

"I— god, I'm sorry, sir, could you repeat that?" he asked the customer on the phone. "Okay, eleven-thirty, twenty-five pizz—aaahh!"

He couldn't help but react when you started sucking him like that, flicking your tongue over his slit with your lips wrapped around the head. His hand found your hair in an instant as the other kept holding the phone guiding you to take him deeper with a grip that tightened each time you suckled a little harder.

"Yes, sorry," Argyle cleared his throat, "yes, I heard you, twenty-five pizzas, ten cheese, ten pepperoni, five supreme— that'll be, uh... that'll be..."

He could barely do math in his head without you sliding your slick lips up and down his cock. This was fucking impossible, and you knew it; you had to fight not to grin around him as he stammered.

"Fuck it, just call Pizza Hut," he decided suddenly, slamming the phone down and putting both his hands on you to force you to stay the course. "God, you're so fuckin' bad," he scolded in a praising sort of way, "you need to make it quick before we get caught. Fuck, c'mon, choke on it."

That you did; and it helped him get there faster, as did the way you'd done this so casually in public— as did your eyes blinking up at him so innocently while that tongue did the devil's work.

"Gonna swallow, babe?" he prompted, and you nodded as much as you could. He tilted his head back and started to fuck your mouth— still gently, but less controlled than before. "Fuck, yeah you are— so good, babe, so fuckin' good, chokin' on my dick at work... you are so dirty."

Humming in agreement, you let him use your throat until he spilled into your mouth with a loud sigh, come filling your waiting mouth. You tried to keep suckling even after, but he whimpered under his breath and pulled you off; wiping your mouth, you swallowed his come and stood up with a proud smile. "You would've made a great tip on that catering order," you taunted.

He picked up your banana-yellow visor for you and put it back on top of your head. "I'm so gonna get back at you for this after our shift's done," he promised.

"Can't wait," you purred, turning and getting back to work as if nothing had happened— except for the taste of him at the back of your throat and the wetness in your underwear. Stealing a slice would take care of the first problem, but the second would have to wait until he got his revenge after work, and you knew it would be worth the wait.