#corroded-hellfire's valentine's day playlist

[wheels-of-despair]

A Hot, Cheesy Pizza Guy Pairing: Argyle x You Event: A Very @corroded-hellfire Valentine's Day Summary: You're home alone, wallowing in a pit of unspecified grief… when your favorite pizza guy comes a-knockin'. Song: I Want You to Want Me by Cheap Trick Words: 1k

Oh, didn't I, didn't I, didn't I See you cryin' (cryin, cryin') Feelin' all alone without a friend

"Helloooo?"

A knock on your door brings you out of your haze.

"Go away," you whisper, knowing they can't hear you. Your back rests against a kitchen cabinet, your legs splayed out in front of you on the cool tile you'd slumped to when the grief became too much to bear.

"Helloooo? Pineapple Girl? It's meeee. Argyle. Your favorite pizza guuuuy."

Your bleary eyes look toward the door, where the knocking continues. You hadn't called and ordered a pizza. You hadn't called anyone. You're pretty sure that "go away" was the first thing you'd said out loud in days.

"I know you didn't call."

Can he read your mind? If so… sorry, Argyle the Pizza Guy.

"But you're the only person who always takes my bodacious recommendations, and you haven't called for two weeks, and I wondered if you were okay."

A fresh wave of tears appears and begins pouring down your face. The only person who cares about you is the pizza guy.

"Like… I'll leave it out here and go if you want. No charge. But it'd be real cool if you could prove that you're alive? Are you sick? Was the last pizza not good? I knew it was too early to introduce anchovies to our relationship. My bad. Oh, man." He heaves a sigh that you can hear through the door, and you wonder if he's given up on you. "Oh, man. You're not cheating on me with the Pizza Hut guy, are you?"

You laugh.

Heart broken, tears streaming down your face, and you just laughed at the pizza guy.

"Was that a laugh? Did you just laugh? You're totally busted now, you gotta open the door."

You hesitate.

"C'mon, there's nothing a hot, cheesy pizza can't fix. Wait'll you see what I came up with this time. It's a good one."

Your stomach growls, siding with Argyle.

You take a deep breath, wipe your eyes on your shirt, and stand. You hastily straighten your clothes and try to fix your hair. You're glad there's no mirror in here; you're sure you look like hell. Hopefully it's not bad enough to scare him off.

You creep to the door, unlock it, and crack it open.

"Pineapple Girl! Hey! Oh dude, are you okay?"

"Rough week," you croak, attempting a smile. His eyes fill with pity. You must look as bad as you feel.

"You know," he says, his dark eyes sparkling and his mouth twisting into a mischievous smile. "I've got something that'll make all your troubles just floooat away." He holds up his free hand and rolls it in a way that reminds you of ocean waves.

"How much?" you ask the stoner with the excellent salesmanship.

"Uh, hang on…" Argyle squints and uses his finger to perform some quick calculations in the air. "Zero dollars."

You chuckle.

"Would you like to come in?" you ask, much to your own surprise. Argyle nods, and you open the door all the way and stand aside. "Uh, sorry about the mess."

"Chica, you should see my place."

Argyle walks inside, pizza box in hand, and heads for the couch. You close the door and follow, wishing everything were cleaner. But he doesn't seem to mind.

"You want something to drink?" You're on hostess auto-pilot, and you're grateful to the manners that had been instilled in your sub-conscious.

"Right on!"

You dig in the fridge, find two cans of soda, and bring them to the living room. Argyle is carefully packing a bowl on your coffee table. You sit on the arm of the sofa, as far away from him as you can get. When's the last time you showered?

"Sit down, Pineapple Girl, this stuff's gonna knock you on your ass."

You chuckle and move your ass from the armrest to the cushion, and he hands you the bowl. The sweet smell of the weed that soon fills the room makes you forget all about your showering concerns... and the rest of your woes, too.

He was right. This shit knocked you on your ass. You and Argyle the Pizza Guy lay back against your couch, feet on the coffee table and eyes to the ceiling.

"Why'd you really come here?" you mumble.

"You're the only person who likes my creative combos," he says.

You start giggling.

"What?"

You giggle harder.

"Whaaaaat?" he moans.

Your body is shaking uncontrollably now.

"Tell meeeeee," he whines.

"You know I pick half that stuff off when you leave?" you wheeze.

"What? Nooooo," he mourns. "Why?"

"I didn't want to hurt your feelings." Your giggling has turned to a light chuckle now.

"You're worried about my feelings?"

"Yeah," you admit to the crack in the ceiling.

"How come?"

"'Cause you're a really cool guy."

You smile sleepily, completely content to just sit here quietly with the pizza guy you see once a week for about sixty seconds.

"That's… not the only reason I came here," he says quietly.

"Hm?" you hum, struggling to keep your eyes open.

"You're kinda the highlight of my week."

You turn your head to look at him. He turns his to look at you.

"I have the hugest frickin' crush on you," he confesses.

Your jaw drops.

"Oh shit, I made it weird. Did I make it weird? I made it weird. Why do I always make it weird?!" He leans forward and puts his head in his hands. You reach out to touch his arm, thankful you can reach him without getting up. You couldn't have chased after him if you wanted to, thanks to that killer weed. His eyes land on your hand, then travel up your arm, and finally to your hopefully-not-still-tear-streaked face.

"What if I have a huge frickin' crush on you too?" you ask softly.

"Me?" he asks, his dark eyes sparkling.

"You think I'd let just any pizza guy pick my toppings for me?"

Argyle lets out the goofiest laugh you've ever heard, and you collapse into a fit of giggles again. He leans back on the couch, and you just watch each other and laugh for a bit. Soon, you start to wonder if you've accidentally started a staring contest.

"Thank you for showing up today. I really needed this."

Argyle smiles, and then his face falls.

"Oh, shit!"

"What?" you ask, sharing his panic but not knowing why.

"We totally forgot about the pizza!"

You laugh again, and he leans forward and lifts the lid to check on the cold pizza you've both forgotten about.

"Alright, you stay here, I'm gonna heat this up, and when I get back with a hot, gooey, delicious pizza… you're gonna tell me which toppings you actually like."

"Alright," you laugh. He smiles and picks up the pizza box, heading to the kitchen you'd been crying your eyes out in just a little while ago.

Argyle was right… mostly.

There's nothing a hot, cheesy pizza guy can't fix.

[corroded-hellfire]

St. Valentine’s Day is upon us! In honor, I thought it would be fun to host an event for all my fellow writers. I’ve prepared a playlist of 30 songs all dealing with love—from the wonder of it to the heartbreak it can cause. I can’t wait to read what you come up with!

Rundown of the event:

❤️ Pick a song + a character

Choose from:

💜 Eddie Munson

💜 Steve Harrington

💜 Nancy Wheeler

💜 Robin Buckley

💜 Billy Hargrove

💜 Jonathan Byers

💜 Argyle

🩷 Write a blurb using that song as a prompt/guide. It could be the title, a lyric, the story it tells—whatever speaks to you

🩵 No more than 4k words

💚 Post it on or before February 14, tag @corroded-hellfire, and I will add it to a masterlist for the event

Feel free to message me with any questions!

The playlist is posted below

Thinking Out Loud by Ed Sheeran

Silly Love Songs by Wings

What A Man Gotta Do by Jonas Brothers

Rewrite the Stars from The Greatest Showman

Suspicious Minds by Elvis Presley

Just Give Me a Reason by Pink

Livin' On a Prayer by Bon Jovi

Only Us from Dear Evan Hansen

Crazy Little Thing Called Love by Queen

Happier by Olivia Rodrigo

Glad You Came by The Wanted

I Want You to Want Me by Cheap Trick

Love Story by Taylor Swift

As Long As You're Mine from Wicked

Someone Like You by Adele

Paradise by the Dashboard Light by Meatloaf

Last Night by Morgan Wallen

I'll Cover You from Rent

I Want U Bad by R5

Mr. Brightside by The Killers

I've Just Seen a Face by The Beatles

Remember Me from Coco

Only the Good Die Young by Billy Joel

Until I Found You by Stephen Sanchez

You Oughta Know by Alanis Morisette

When You Look Me in the Eyes by Jonas Brothers

Stacy's Mom by Fountains of Wayne

Can't Take My Eyes Off of You by Frankie Valli & the Four Seasons

Run Away With Me from The Mad Ones

Thinking of You by Katy Perry

Links to listen to songs can be found here! (Can’t guarantee the links will work outside of the US but you can certainly look up the songs on your own!)

[wheels-of-despair]

Can You Feel It? Pairing: Ex!Billy Hargrove x You x Unimportant Jock Event: A Very @corroded-hellfire Valentine's Day Summary: Billy fucked around. Now he's gonna find out. Contains: Heartbreak, spite, sex, Billy Hargrove Is His Own Warning. Song: You Oughta Know by Alanis Morissette Words: 1.4k

Minors and ageless blogs who interact with this fic will be blocked.

And every time I scratch my nails down someone else's back I hope you feel it Well, can you feel it?

You hate Billy Fucking Hargrove.

You hate his stupid hair and his dumb earring and his loud-ass car and you especially hate the fact that you found him with some skank's tongue down his throat at Tommy Hagan's party last weekend, just hours after he told you that he loved you.

You didn't make a scene. You didn't key his car or slash his tires or even let him know you'd decided to come after all.

You just went home and cried.

You cried until you got angry.

It boiled over Monday morning in the Hawkins High parking lot. You were separated by staff who threatened to call your parents and told you both to stay far away from each other. You were happy to comply. He was as good as dead to you.

For a few days.

The following Thursday in the cafeteria, when he winked at you while that slut sat in his lap, you rose up out of your chair to go murder them both... when Ashley M. stepped into your path and caught you off-guard by shoving a flyer in your hand.

You read it - keg party, this weekend, no parents - and a new plan began to form in your jilted brain.

You went all out. Teased your hair. Applied make-up that would make Cyndi Lauper proud. Wore that top that makes your tits look phenomenal and a tiny skirt that your parents didn't know you owned and the painful shoes that Billy called "Fuck-Me Heels."

Boys were drooling the minute you casually strolled into Ashley M's front door half an hour late.

You located him in seconds. He sat on the kitchen counter, staring. You'll give him something to fucking stare at.

You looked to the right and made eye contact with the first idiot who'd crowded around you, vying for your attention. According to his letterman jacket, his name was Spencer. He'd do.

It was almost too easy. One dazzling smile and a dance with a little too much touching, and he was practically dragging you down the hallway. Easy, Sparky, don't forget who's running this show.

He tries two doors before finding an empty room. A bathroom. Good enough.

He closes the door and locks it and shoves you against the back of it and tries to worm his tongue down your throat. No technique. Not at all like Billy.

Right. Billy. That's why you're here. You palm Sparky's comically small package with one hand and subtly reach behind you to unlock the door with the other. You push the meathead away, approach the sink on the opposite side of the room, and hop on. It faces the door. Perfect. You want to see the look on his face when he inevitably storms in and throws a fit.

Sparky sheds his jacket - stopping to hang it carefully on a towel hook, lest his precious jock gear get a wrinkle in it - and stands between your knees. He leans forward and begins to maul your neck. His hands find your tits and grab at them like it's his very first time. You distract him by peeling his shirt off, "accidentally" tangling it around his head to stall him. When he gets free and tries to resume his frantic fondling, you move his hands to your ass and watch the door boredly.

"You're so hot," Sparky moans, squeezing your ass with both hands. You roll your eyes. Hurry up, Hargrove.

You wait patiently until the bathroom door crashes open. It sends a jolt through your entire body, like you've been struck by lightning. Billy Hargrove stands in the doorway, eyes blazing and shoulders squared. The doorknob left a dent in the wall behind it. What did he do, kick it open? It wasn't locked, you fucking moron.

Sparky turns around at the sound. "Hey man, you mind? We're kinda busy here."

You grab Sparky by his bare shoulders and jerk him back to you. His face collides with the side of your neck, and he resumes his disgusting slurping like Billy isn't standing just a few feet away, ready to kill him. You stare coldly at the asshole in the doorway while you scratch your nails down Sparky's back. A move that was guaranteed to make Billy go feral, every fucking time.

Can you feel that, Hargrove?

"Ow! Shit!"

Sparky backs away from you and your claws, and Billy steps forward to catch him. Billy grabs him by the scruff of the neck and hauls him into the hallway, bouncing his face off the wall a few times before shoving him to the floor.

Now it's your turn.

Billy steps over Sparky's body and into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. He locks it, and before you can marvel at the fact that the lock mechanism still works, he's on you. Hand on your throat. Your head smacks against with the mirror behind you.

"What the fuck was that?"

"What's it to you? You don't want me anymore, remember?"

Fire blazes in his eyes, and his grip tightens.

You stare calmly into his furious face.

Why the fuck did you miss him? He made you mad almost every day. You fought all the time. He was moody, and difficult, and snarky, and let's not forget the fact that he's a liar and a cheater and an all-around dickhead who broke your fucking heart.

You'd give anything for him to love you the way you love him.

In the blink of an eye, Billy's hand moves from your throat to the back of your neck, and his mouth is on yours. Your brain quiets, and your body buzzes, and being close to him is the only thing that matters.

His massive hands drift down to your breasts, squeezing with just the right amount of pressure. You moan into his mouth, and his hands keep traveling south. You open your legs for him, and he doesn't waste any time slipping under your skirt and past your barely-there panties and dipping a finger into your center.

Feeling how wet you are brings him back to the reality of the situation. He extracts his hand, wipes it on your thigh, and glares.

"That douchebag get you this worked up?"

"That limp-dicked dumbass couldn't work a calculator."

Billy snorts, and you smile. God, you missed this.

"Who'd you wear those Fuck Me Heels for, then?"

"Who do you think, asshole?"

He smirks in a way that makes you want to smack it off his face. Instead, you hook your leg around him and pull him closer. Billy grabs your ass and jerks you to the edge of the counter, so you can feel his stiff member pressing into your heat. You need him so fucking bad.

His assault on your mouth begins again, and you wrap your arms around him and cling to his back. He rocks into you, and the friction from his jeans is almost enough to finish you off.

"Billy," you breathe. "Need you."

"I should make you beg," he taunts, slowly dragging the double-stitched denim of his fly upward and surprising you with a sudden jerk of his hips. You claw at his jacket and puff out a breath of air. You're not fucking begging. You try to grind your hips against him, but he reaches down to hold them still. You respond by lurching forward and biting his neck.

Billy responds with a slap to your ass. He pulls back, and you glare up at him, chest heaving. You're not fucking begging.

"Fuck it," he grumbles, reaching for his belt buckle. He unbuckles unzips, and slams into you in seconds.

Fuck, you missed this.

Billy begins to thrust hard and fast, eyes on yours. When you begin to approach your peak, you close your eyes and lean your head back. He grabs your jaw and makes you look at him. He wants to watch it happen. He needs to see what he does to you.

You come together, with grunts and moans, collapsing against each other in a panting heap. You fall back against the mirror, and he leans with you. His head rests on your shoulder. Breathing ragged. Bones weak. Brains foggy. Nobody makes you fall apart like he does.

"I love you," is what you want to tell him.

"I know," is probably what he would say before he smirked his dumb little smirk and zipped up those tight jeans that fit him just right and left your stupid ass in a puddle of your own tears again.

You wish you could hate Billy Fucking Hargrove.

[wheels-of-despair]

When she stepped into the room, your heart stopped.

How can a person this perfect exist in a place like Hawkins, Indiana?

Perfect hair. Perfect makeup. Perfect everything.

Except that smile.

It doesn't quite reach her eyes. They're beautiful, but there's a sort of sadness in those... you don't even know what to call them. No color you've ever seen could adequately describe the shade. You'd have to invent one. A new color, just for her.

You'd do anything to see those eyes light up. To see her throw her gorgeous head back and watch her carefully styled hair bounce and hear a genuine laugh bubble from her perfect chest and know that you did that for her. You gave her a reason to be happy, even if it was only for a moment.

Is this what love feels like?

And that outfit? It looks like it's painted on her. How does a person even get into something that tight? What if she needs help getting out of it? What if you were the only person around to help her?

Is she getting ready for a workout, or a magazine spread? You wish you were an artist, so you could take all these details and put them on paper and be able to look at her every single day. You never want to forget this moment. Maybe you could describe the outfit in detail to that guy who's always hunched over his sketchbook in the cafeteria? No. You don't want to share her.

She smiles at you and turns, and gives you a view of the back. How is this legal? Your jaw goes slack at the sight of that thin strip of spandex barely covering her magnificent rear as she turns to leave. No! Come back!

You could flip through a thousand Playboys and never see anything so erotic. You're afraid to move; if you move, it'll break the spell. If you move, the slightest bit of friction in your jeans might lead to something you'll never live down.

You are never going to recover from this. You stare at the spot she just vacated, hoping that if you concentrate hard enough, you'll still be able to picture her. The most gorgeous woman you've ever seen.

"What did you get for #14?"

"Huh?"

"Question #14? On the practice test you came over to take with me? Before my mom came in and blew our concentration by announcing she was off to Jazzercise? What answer did you get?"

"Oh… uh… not there yet. Sorry, Nance."

Nancy sighs and turns back to her own paper, and you stare blankly at the notebook lying in front of you. How are you supposed to focus on stupid high school stuff after falling in love with Nancy's mom?

Oops, did I forget the header info? Guess I'll just drop it here:

Nancy's Mom Pairing: GN!Reader x Karen Wheeler Event: A Very @corroded-hellfire Valentine's Day Summary: Mrs. Wheeler drops in on your study session with Nancy, and you are never going to recover. Song: Stacy's Mom by Fountains of Wayne Words: 500ish Note: Nope, not even a little bit sorry. 🤣

Stacy's Nancy's mom has got it goin' on She's all I want, and I've waited for so long Stacy Nancy, can't you see you're just not the girl for me I know it might be wrong but I'm in love with Stacy's Nancy's mom

[wheels-of-despair]

One-Offs Masterlist

One-shots for characters that are unconnected to any official AUs.

It's Your Party (Billy Hargrove x You) Billy gets a birthday surprise in the Hawkins High parking lot.

The Loneliest Kindest Mom in Hawkins (Karen Wheeler) Mrs. Wheeler spots a kid from Nancy's class having an existential crisis in the feminine hygiene aisle, so she steps in and finally gets a kid who appreciates her.

Writing Challenges Masterlist

The funsonmunson/oneforthemunny Collection: (In which I borrow her Eddie AUs for a few hundred words.)

funsonmunson-again's birthday game oneforthemunny's summer game oneforthemunny's one-derful year

corroded-hellfire's Valentine's Day Playlist Challenge:

A Hot, Cheesy Pizza Guy (Argyle x You) You're home alone, wallowing in a pit of unspecified grief… when your favorite pizza guy comes a-knockin'.

I Know It Might Be Wrong... Is this what falling in love feels like?

Can You Feel It? (Billy Hargrove x You) Billy fucked around. Now he's gonna find out.