#that is not bothering to bring argyle back

[overatthefrankensteinplace]

this is ur friendly reminder that if you give a shit about genocide, as marketing rolls around for it, to boycott or pirate s5 of stranger things

brett gelman and noah schnapp support ethnic cleansing and do not deserve your money or support

plus fuck st/netflix for what they did to eduardo franco

[ghost-proofbaby]

twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)

→ tropes: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, slow burn

→ warnings: strong language, smut (oral, f receiving), overload of cheesiness, upside down does not exist, minors dni

→ wc: 11.8k+

→ a/n: this might be the cheesiest, fluffiest thing i've ever written, and i can't even be bothered to care. it might be unrealistic. it might be too much. i do not care. this has been a long time coming and i think we all deserve all the cheese after this story.

i don't even know what to say besides thank you. thank you to everyone who followed along from the beginning, to those of you joined the journey along the way, to those of you who are reading as we finish it up. thank you for all the support and love you guys have shown this fic. i will always, always, appreciate it more than i know how to say. i love these idiots, and i love you all.

if you would like to see this story continued through small blurbs, my ask box is officially open to requests from this universe. i will also probably be posting some "beyond the hours" content over the next few weeks.

thank you. i love you.

without further ado...

masterlist.

spotify playlist.

EPILOGUE: A BET

TWO MONTHS LATER

“Why are there so many fuckin’ options?” 

Eddie stares at the line up of smartphones before him, all different models and different physical sizes, different colors and different memory amounts. 

“There’s not that many,” you murmur, wrapping your arms around him from behind as you rest your chin on his shoulder. It’s a bit of a stretch, making you lean up onto your tippy toes, “Besides, isn’t having options a good thing?” 

He scoffs as he brings a hand up subconsciously to where your arms overlap on his torso, grip gentle as he runs a thumb over your skin and gives a squeeze, “Sure, options are great. But there’s at least twenty different iPhones on display here, sweetheart.” 

The last few months had been interesting, to say the least. A new and exciting journey initially, but also a fairly stressful ordeal given all the hoops you two had been jumping through. You’re both busy people, having to suddenly figure out how to carve out a specific space for each other amongst bustling lives. It wasn’t the same as making time for friends or a weekly night out; it was figuring out times for dates, times for lazy afternoons, times for just you and just Eddie.

And, occasionally, time to take Eddie shopping for a new phone. Finally.

“Well, better pick one fast,” your fingers dig into his side playful, and he blows out an annoyed breath as he side-eyes you. You only retaliate in a fast peck to his cheek before whispering in his ear, “We’re gonna be late if you keep taking all day.” 

It was Argyle’s birthday party tonight. His actual birthday wasn’t for another week, but he’d be venturing back home to California for that. And so the group elected to throw him a preemptive party at one of the group’s favorite bars. 

Which — fine. Awesome. You were excited, you really were: you loved Argyle, you loved your friends, you even found yourself warming back up to parties.

But your friends didn’t know. 

Two whole months, and neither you nor Eddie had told a single soul of what had become between you two. Not even Steve. Not even Nancy. 

At first the excuse was to give this time to grow, to find your footing before you brought your lovable yet rambunctious group of friends into the equation. But then you two had found your footing, and you’d worried what they would say. Eddie had nearly made himself sick with anxiety over Nancy finding out he’d kept this relationship from her. They’d support you two — that wasn’t a worry. They’d proven that since the first time the entire group had hung out after the bet.

“So,” Robin started, narrowing her eyes at you and Eddie sitting on opposite ends of her and Steve’s couch. Neither of you had said a word to each other yet (Plenty had already been said that morning as you’d snuck him out of your dorm), “You two really aren’t together?” 

“Why is everyone so adamant that the bet has to end with us getting together?” you jeered.

Eddie didn’t help the cause when he was quick to take your side, “Exactly! The bet’s over. We lasted twenty four hours. We’re friends now — isn’t that what you guys wanted?” 

“I actually wanted to help you dudes plan a winter wedding,” Argyle chimed from the kitchen where he was retrieving a coke, “So I’m gonna side with Birdie on this one.” 

“Of course you are,” you muttered beneath your breath. 

Everything in you ached to be sitting next to Eddie rather than so far. You ached for his arm around you, his lips pressed to your temple. Just to share body heat, even — innocent thighs brushing with layers of denim between would have been enough.  

“It’ll happen eventually,” Nancy mused from her seat on the kitchen counter, Jonathan beside her and matching her confident energy with a sly grin, “Just give them time.” 

What they hadn’t realized is that it already did happen. The moment Eddie showed up to your dorm and the two of you said to Hell with space, it was inevitable. 

Now, it was just the challenge of letting your friends in on the secret.

“What about the red one?” Eddie asks you as you finally unravel from him.

“Of course you’re choosing the red one.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he scowls, no malice behind it as you step up to occupy the space next to him, brushing shoulders for only a moment before his hand is grabbing yours, intertwining fingers like second nature. 

You recall that moment on his balcony, where he had once been so nervous and hesitant to hold your hand. 

“Nothing,” you shake your head, smiling to yourself as you look at the specific model he was talking about, “You’re just getting a little bit predictable, Munson.” 

He opens his mouth to argue, to nip back at what you always offer him, when one of the salesmen approach you two.

“Hi folks! Can I help you with anything today?”

Eddie squeezes your hand, no doubt in an effort to withhold his laughter at the man’s overly chirpy tone. You squeeze back, if for nothing more than to let him know you felt him.

Despite Eddie’s previous claim to a decision, he still chooses to entertain the man. Asking questions about different models, inquiring for recommendations as if they’d change his mind. They go back and forth, both polite enough, but the conversation easily bores you. In five seconds flat, your mind has officially wandered off.

You two hadn’t really discussed the specific details of the night to come. Whether you’d ride with Eddie there, how you’d navigate Eddie’s natural born clinginess once he got a few drinks in him, if tonight might be the night to finally tell your friends. 

The last one felt a bit obvious. It was Argyle’s night — you didn’t want to snatch the attention from him for even a second. 

But there were layers to your anxiety. Because it was more than just how to navigate how you two would display yourselves to your friends on nights out. 

It had been two months, and you still hadn’t said those three little words back to Eddie.

He didn’t pressure you. He never once brought it back up, never once pressured you. But just because he wasn’t constantly reminding you vocally that he loved you didn’t mean you didn’t feel it. You’d felt it, impossible to miss, when all those lazy morning fantasies became reality. You felt it during movie marathons and you felt it every time he’d worship your body. It was there — in the late nights, in the early mornings, in the dull afternoons. A wild thing unleashed in your gardens, all those vines you’d worked so hard to see flourish threatened to be torn up by impatient claws at the feeling growing rapidly in your chest every time you looked at him.

And slowly, surely, you knew that there was only so much longer that like could suffice in describing your feelings for Eddie. 

You were falling, whether he was aware or not. You just needed to figure out the right moment for those three little words to unstick, to go from hot honey on your tongue to easy breaths between you two. He’s given you time, he’d filled the months you’d awarded him with making up for every previously bitter exchange, and yet you still couldn’t give him this. And you’re starting to believe maybe that’s why you couldn’t imagine telling your friends yet. 

You sort of hated yourself for it.

You’re pulled back to reality once the salesman departs, no doubt into the back to grab Eddie’s choice of phone. You don’t even have to ask; you know he got the red one.

“Hey,” Eddie fully turns to you, bringing your knuckles to his lips in chaste kisses. Your stomach still kicks with flutters, your heart still warms at the gesture. Eddie’s affection has yet to lose novelty, “Where’d you go?”

“What do you mean?” you twist your face, “I was here the entire tim-“

“Not where’d you physically go,” he clarifies, letting your conjoined hands drop back to the sliver of space between your bodies, “Mentally. Where’d your mind just go?”

 You hadn’t thought he’d notice your drifting.

“Nowhere,” you shrug off.

“Nowhere? So you’re really just that interested in the newest iPhone model?” 

He pointedly looks up at the widescreen display you don’t doubt you’d been blankly staring at the entirety of his conversation with the man who had yet to return.

“Oh, absolutely. You know me so well.” 

All bark, no bite. These days, all the previous venom that had infected exchanges with Eddie prior to the bet had finally been sucked clean from the wound, long gone to make room for all the genuine affection to seep into its place. You still argued — or perhaps bantered was a better word for it — but you didn’t fight. You both still grated on one another’s nerves and managed to slither beneath the other’s skin, but not in an unwelcome way. 

It was a nice change.

It made you hate yourself even more for not saying those three little words. 

Eddie seemingly reads your mind, “Are you nervous for tonight?”

“I-“ you consider lying to him and saying it hadn’t even crossed your mind, but the look he gives you warns against it, “We just haven’t… discussed it.” 

“What’s there to discuss?” 

You hold up your interlocked hands for emphasis, raising your eyebrows at Eddie.

His mouth falls open softly, eyes widening, “Oh. Are you- Are you wanting to tell them tonight?” 

No, your gut screams, absolutely not tonight.

“Is Argyle’s birthday party really the best time to explode their minds?” 

You try to keep your tone teasing as you sense Eddie’s own nerves creeping up. Sometimes it was fun, standing in a room with everyone and pretending to be more akin to strangers than lovers. But sometimes, it was just plain painful. Sometimes, the entire group would be laughing at something, and you craved nothing more than to be pressed into Eddie’s side and feel the vibrations of his shared joy rather than just having to listen to it from across the room. 

It’s not that you wanted to tell your friends and cause a scene — you just didn’t want to have to hide anymore. And maybe you wouldn’t have to, if you’d just tell him how you felt.

“Probably not,” Eddie murmurs, “I mean, it’s his night. We can always tell them the next time we all get together.”

The issue is that’s what the two of you always say. You always brush it off for the next time. 

You can only sigh in defeat as you see the salesman finally bounding back out from the back room, a small box holding Eddie’s purchase in his grip, “Yeah. Next time.” 

You can’t even be mad at next time. It’s the same thing you tell yourself every time you felt those words on the tip of your tongue, so close yet so far from revealing the most terrifying truth you’d discovered yet to Eddie.

You let go of his hand long enough for him to check out, hardly overhearing when he questions how they can transfer all the data from his current flip phone. When he seems particularly worried about pictures transferring, you don’t think anything of it.

—

STEVE-O: do i need to pick you up tonight? 

You don’t see the text. You’re a bit busy with something when it comes through.

Something is currently still between your legs, curls threaded between your fingers as your back arches off his mattress and his name starts to come out as a desperate whimper rather than a chant. 

STEVE-O: ???

The initial buzz of your phone on his nightstand doesn’t phase either of you. Eddie’s tongue still works you eagerly, circling your clit as you tug particularly harshly at his roots. Each flick sends white hot pleasure through your bones, nearly making you see stars.

“Fuck,” you gasp out when he brings his fingers into the mix. You can feel his smile against you as he curls his fingers inside of you, mimicking a come hither motion and relishing in your little pants as your thighs tighten around his shoulders, “Oh, fuck. Right there, Eddie. I- Eddie.” 

The way you’re moaning his name only encourages him as he slips in a second finger, stretching you further. You feel cool metal bumping your entrance, sending shocks up your spine as his lips suction against you and he sucks hard.

He hadn’t even taken the time to remove his rings when the two of you had gotten home. He had been too eager, dragging you to his bedroom with his lips attached to your neck from the moment he’d shut the front door behind the two of you until he’d thrown you down on his bed.

“That’s right, baby,” his voice vibrates against your clit, “Say my name. Tell everyone who’s making you feel this goo-“

STEVE-O: helllooooo????

“Okay, who the fuck keeps texting you?” Eddie finally pulls back when he realizes you’re slipping out of that bubble he’d created, your head having turned towards the nightstand in curiosity, “Let me guess, it’s your other boyfriend?” 

Your head is still spinning and your chest continues to heave from that lingering pleasure he’d been offering so generously to you. He sounds annoyed, but you can guarantee you’re even more irked. 

“I don’t have another boyfriend,” you blandly reply, not taking his bait.

It only makes him wrap his hands around your thighs on his shoulder, giving a playful squeeze as you reach out for your phone. 

“You sure?” 

You squint at the notifications, but don’t properly read them, only rolling your eyes at both the fact that Steve’s the one interrupting this precious moment and at Eddie’s valiant teasing.

You slam the phone back down, eyes trailing down to his, “I am, but I can certainly find another boyfriend if you don’t get your mouth back on me in the next three seconds-“ 

He doesn’t need a second warning. In an instant, the warmth of his tongue is back on you, lapping at all the spots he’s come to memorize as of recently. That pleasure comes back into reach, edging your vision with feathery black as your eyes flutter shut and the coil in your stomach tightens.

You throw your head back into one of his pillows, one that has started to smell like your shampoo now rather than his, and let a drawn out whine escape your lips.

“You were saying?” he teases, grinning wickedly. He takes that brief moment to come up for air, turning and sinking his teeth into the soft flesh of your thigh beside his cheek. Not hard enough to draw blood, and probably not hard enough to leave indents. But it is enough to have you preening once more as your heels dig into his bare back and you try to lift your hips, desperate for his mouth again.

He was edging you. Without even meaning to, he was repeatedly bringing you to the edge only to leave you teetering. 

With your focus back on him, you can admire how pretty he looks. Mouth slick with you, pupils blown out, hair an absolute mess. You like him best this way, you think, when he looks so absolutely devoted to you. When he’s looking at you with a hunger you almost can’t place. It makes you want to scream from the rooftops about how you’ve fallen for him. How you feel so much more than like for your boy. 

STEVE-O: seriously. if you don’t respond, you can just walk. you have five minutes.

At the buzz of the phone, your hands leave Eddie’s hair to form fists, pounding them into the mattress at your side in a brief tantrum. He ceases all actions, pulling his lips away from you again, and it only makes you pout more. 

“Baby,” he coos, fingers trailing up the sides of your thighs before he reaches out to hold your fists down, “Maybe you should answer him. Tell him to fuck off-“

Eddie’s interrupted as your phone fully bursts to life with your ringtone.

You were going to kill Steve Harrington. 

“On second thought, let me answer it,” Eddie groans as you reach out and grab it once more, “Give the fucker a piece of my mind.”

“Shut up,” you hiss as you realize it’s Robin calling. You turn the screen so he can see, and his eyebrows lift in surprise.

He makes no move to remove himself from between your legs, though. He stays face to face with your aching core.

“Hello?” you snap after swiping to answer.

“Finally! My God, Steve’s been texting you-“

“I didn’t see the texts.”

“Do you need a ride?”

“Nope.” 

You’ve never been so short with your friends. 

But that pleasure is slipping from you, the flames of your impending orgasm dying down to nothing more than embers. It’s enough to piss anyone off. 

“Are you sure?” Robin asks, sounding genuinely concerned, “It’s kind of a far walk-“

“I’m running late,” you sigh, realizing that you were going to have to come up with a lie to get off the hook. Another thing you hated about the hiding — it led to your friendships being littered with dishonesty. Always a new excuse as to why you weren’t available, always feigning reasons as to why you didn’t reply to texts as timely as you used to. “With getting ready. I could- I don’t know, do you think Eddie might pick me up? Isn’t my dorm along the way to the bar from his place?” 

At the mention of his name, he perks up. His cheek settles against the exact spot he had bit just moments before, nearly nuzzling into you as your free hand comes down to gently push back his bangs. On instinct, you find yourself soothingly pressing your fingertips in slow circles against his scalp. You’re nearly melting beneath his soft gaze, those big and wide eyes locked on you with bated breath.

“You want Eddie to pick you up?” you suddenly hear Steve exclaim in the background.

Your face scrunches up, a wrinkle forming across the bridge of your nose and between your brows. It’s so damn cute to Eddie that he can’t help but press a quick kiss to the skin he continues to lay into, beginning to smile as your absent-minded head massage continues. 

So much more than like.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t know I was on speaker.” 

“Why do you want Munson to pick you up?” Steve ignores your sarcasm, voice sounding closer to the phone now, “He drives a motorcycle, you know. That’s dangerous.” 

Eddie must be able to catch some of Steve’s shrill exclamation, his eyebrows raising ever so slightly. You feel his curious hum against your skin and you don’t hesitate putting your own pesky friends on speaker. 

“Motorcycles are not that dangerous,” you retort, and it makes Eddie have to hide a slight scoff into your thigh in an effort to stay silent. It was ironic that they cared about how safe it would be for you to ride with Eddie on his bike now, after that allegedly dangerous vehicle had been your main source of transportation for nearly two months now, “He has a helmet, right?” 

“Isn’t your dorm the opposite direction of the bar from his place?” Robin questions, “I mean, I’m all for you asking lover boy if he’ll give you a ride but-”

Steve interrupts her flatly, “It’s making him go out of his way. Besides, he might have already left for the bar by now.” 

You don’t know what to silently laugh at first. The assumption they were making that couldn’t be further from the truth, or Robin’s new nickname for Eddie. 

Lover boy is fitting for him in this current position. He’s still latching onto your leg, cuddling you in every way he could from where he laid, staring at you and hanging onto your every last word. The poster boy for pathetically in love, he gives your leg another kiss, starting a fiery trail with his lips until he reaches your knee. It pangs in your chest, wondering if he can see your feelings also painted so obviously across your face. 

“Steve,” you murmur, breath catching in your throat as Eddie’s lips linger in the ditch of your knee. It takes a second to remember you’re on the phone, “No offense, but Eddie hasn’t been on time to a single get together the entire time I’ve known him.” 

Eddie reacts in real time to your insult, forcing an over-exaggerated offended look before he bites you again. This time, his teeth do leave an imprint from his nip, and it makes you slap a hand over your mouth to avoid yelping. 

Don’t bite me, you mouth at him. 

Don’t be mean, he answers right back, silent as ever. 

“Technically we’re all already late,” Steve points out. It makes you sit up quickly, startling Eddie in the process. You squint at the clock across the room and- fuck. Steve was right, “Nancy just texted me that she and Jon are there, Argyle’s on his way. She said she tried texting Eddie but didn’t get any response,” there’s a long pause as you motion wildly for Eddie to get up with you, the boy watching as you fling yourself off his mattress and carry the phone with you to his dresser, “Have… you heard from him recently?” 

“Why are you saying it like that?” you jab, throwing open one of the drawers Eddie had cleared out for you to keep some clothes here in his apartment. At this point, a good chunk of the tuition you paid was going to waste considering the fact you rarely spent the night at your dorm. You were already half moved into Eddie’s space. 

You try not to think too hard about it, because just last week, you’d had a panic attack at the revelation. 

You were afraid of smothering him, even if he was the one always insisting you could leave more of your things here. He was always the one conning you into spending another night, promising soft murmurs of giving you a ride to class the next morning if you did. You rarely ever had much of the choice in the matter; once he’d wrap his arms around your waist, curl his body flush against yours, it was always game over.

Practically living together, and you still hadn’t said those words back to him. 

“I’m not saying it like anything!” Steve defends himself, “I’m just asking an innocent question!” Eddie’s snort this time is audible, and you freeze as Steve clearly mistakes it for your laughter, “Shut up. It’s a reasonable question. You guys are friends now, remember?” 

Friends. Of course, because all your friends jumped at the chance to bury their mouths against your cunt and make you cum repeatedly until you had tears streaming down your cheeks. Because you let all your friends sleep in the same bed as you, and wake you up by burying deep within you as they bite your shoulder with a moan. You and Eddie were friends. 

“Trust me,” you glance over your shoulder in your haste, looking at Eddie as he stretches out on his side and props himself up on his elbow, “I remember.” 

He gives you a knowing smile, squinting his eyes at you in entertainment. 

“Babe, it really would just be easier for you to ride with us,” Robin’s voice sounds again as you tug a shirt out of the drawer, something casual and comfortable that you could style for the night, “Unless you’re just hellbent on having alone time with Eddie for some reason-”

“I’m not hellbent on being alone with him, Robs.” 

Another lie. I definitely am. But not in the context you think. 

“You just sound like you are.”

“Well, I’m not,” you yank a pair of black jeans free from the drawer and slam it shut, standing and turning to Eddie. 

He hardly has time to react before you’re tossing your phone down on the mattress in front of him, the small device bouncing and hitting his chest. He winces and throws himself back dramatically, letting out a small oof that you pray neither Robin or Steve pick up on. 

As you dress, throwing on the random t-shirt and shimmying on your jeans, Robins laughs, “Denial isn’t a good look on you.” 

Eddie watches you, never moving to get ready himself. All he does is stare as you button up the pants. 

When you give him an expectant look, he merely mouths, bra? 

You shake your head. You don’t know where Eddie had flung your undergarment, and you’re not in the mood to frantically search for it. You’ve gone without a bra before – you can survive one night out without one. 

Eddie’s entire face and chest immediately flushes pink. Cute.  

“Now you guys are just being assholes,” you scowl despite the fact that only Eddie can see it, waving your hands to motion for him to get up and also get dressed, “I’m texting Eddie. If he has already left, I’ll just walk. Fuck you guys.” 

“Tell lover boy I said hi,” Robin teases. 

“Even if he’s already parked at the fucking bar at this point, we both know he’d jump right back on his bike and come pick you up,” Steve’s voice grumbles over the line. 

It almost makes you smile.  “Someone sounds jealous.” 

“Not jealous, just annoyed,” Steve corrects as Eddie finally stands from the bed, “When are you two going to get your shit together?”

“What do you mean?” you play dumb.

You’ve had this conversation with your friends multiple times. They were truly going to have your head once they realized what you’d been keeping from them for months now. 

“Don’t you have a 4.0 GPA?” Robin inserts herself back into the conversation, “You can’t possibly be this stupid.” 

Eddie pauses in his fumbling with pulling his jeans from the pile he’d left his clothes in at the end of the beg, face scrunching in silent laughter. You almost walk over and smack his bare back angled towards you. 

“First of all, no. I don’t have a 4.0 GPA. Thanks for the reminder,” you grab your phone back off of the bed and decide to leave Eddie behind in the room, heading into the bathroom to finish getting ready. You hate to admit it, but if you have to keep watching him giggle so cutely to himself, you’ll also probably break. And you aren’t in the mood for any further interrogation from Robin and Steve, “Second of all, I’m hanging up now. I’m going to call Eddie. At least he won’t be such a dick to me.” 

“Oh, you must see the irony there-” 

You cut Steve off, “Bye! See you in… like, ten minutes.” 

Once you’ve hung up, you put your phone down on the bathroom counter and look up into the mirror. Your hair is a mess, wild and tangled from all the writhing you had been doing before being so rudely interrupted. You give it your best effort, trying to tame it a little bit to look more presentable, but it’s a lost cause at this point. Fuck it. 

Eddie appears in the doorway behind you, fully dressed and his hair pulled back into a bun, leaning into the door frame with his arms crossed and an impish grin on display, “Oh, you’re going to call me now, sweetheart?” 

You glare at him in a jocosely manner through the reflection, “Don’t look so proud of yourself.” 

He pushes off the frame and comes up behind you, still locking his eyes only through the reflection as he leans his chin over your shoulder, “And what if I don’t want to give you a ride? You have been awfully mean – insulting my punctuality, throwing your phone at me, teasing me by going without a bra. The list goes on and on.” 

Something deep within you stirs, those embers that still ache to burst into a forest fire. You hate that you could easily spend the entire night here with him, letting him take you every which way between his sheets. And even without sinful actions involved, you would be plenty content with just his presence tonight. As a matter of fact, you might be more content with that outcome rather than heading out to see your friends.

Sorry Argyle, you think guiltily. 

“I’m teasing you?” you question just as his hands land on your hips, moving so that he was pressed firmly against the curve of your ass. Making sure you could feel how hard he was against the seam of his jeans’ zipper, “You didn’t even make me cum.” 

“Seems like we’ll both be spending the night frustrated, then,” he smiles, almost gleefully, almost devilishly, “Besides, that was technically Harrington’s fault, not mine. We both know I usually have no problems making you cum on my tongue – without interruptions, of course.”

He rolls his hips ever so slightly into you, and your mouth falls open, eyes going glossy as you continue to stare him down through the mirror.  The stirring in your abdomen is persistent now as your heart hammers against your ribs, mind melting and completely forgetting the obligation at hand. 

And Eddie knows this. He’s well aware of the effect he’s having on you, and it’s deliberate. 

Suddenly, his body completely pulls away from yours, “I’ll meet you downstairs. Don’t want to keep them waiting any longer, do we, sweetheart?” 

Damn him. Damn him, and damn his dimples, and damn how good his legs look in those jeans as he’s walking away from me right now.

You linger in the apartment, alone, for a few extra minutes to compose yourself. Trying to quelch the heat between your hips that had slowly spread across your entire body, threatening to consume you. You even go as far as to splash cool water across your cheeks, giving yourself a few smacks for good measure as you try to prepare yourself to go into public and put on the usual act. And beneath it all, you also hush the animal in your chest, the one that claws at you to tell him. The one that wails everytime you simply tell him you like him, the one that roars when you let another moment slip you by. It has to quiet, just as your flames need to settle, all for the sake of the act.

You deserve a goddamn Oscar at this point. 

After deciding that touching up your makeup would take up far too many precious seconds, you’re darting out of Eddie’s apartment, locking up behind yourself before you head down to where he’s waiting. He’s already straddling his parked bike, the engine roaring to life like the animal inside you as you exit the main doors of the building and his hands extend his only helmet. You don’t fight him on who’s going to wear it – that’s a battle, you’ve learned, you will always lose. 

We really need to just buy a second helmet. 

The thought makes you smile as you hold the clunky thing. Buying a second helmet. Something Eddie had never done before, because he had never had a regular passenger before. He had never had someone glued to his side as you had become, not even Nancy. It sounds terribly domestic; perusing aisles with him, debating which helmet fits your style best. He’d probably make a joke about your head being big. He’d probably tease you for looking at the ridiculously expensive ones and tell you to opt for a cheaper one. You’d probably end up with a pricier one in the cart regardless, and Eddie would probably refuse to let you pay for it. 

Domesticity. The image of it doesn’t ache like it had that night all those months ago. This isn’t something you yearn for hopelessly, smoke and mirrors that dissipate when you dare to reach out for it. It’s something finally in your grasp. Something tangible and something bound to happen, all you’d have to do is say the word and Eddie would comply eagerly. 

Anything to keep my girl safe, as he would tell you any time you pointed out how dangerous it was for him to go without a helmet. He’d gotten creative in saying his own version of those three little words. 

“M’lady,” he hums, nodding for you to put the helmet on before sweeping a hand over the empty space in the seat behind him, “Your chariot awaits.” 

You don’t have a snarky quip to throw back at him, only grinning at the ground as you flip the helmet around a few times to prepare to put it on. All those embers aren’t just desire for him – there’s a warmth there that always exists. A candle on the windowsill of the home you had finally found. 

You raise the clunky thing and tilt your head when Eddie suddenly says, “Oh, and babe?” 

Immediately, you lower it, eyes wide in curiosity, “What?” 

“That’s my shirt.” 

“What?” 

He motions to the t-shirt tucked carefully into your jeans, “That fine shirt you are currently wearing is mine.” 

You look down, and he’s right. It’s too late to go back inside to change, and you know he’s aware of this when you catch his amused smirk. He probably noticed the moment you had put it on, and had deliberately waited until it was too late for you to do anything about it to inform you. 

Bastard. 

“I-” you pinch the fabric between your fingers, looking between it and Eddie wildly for a second before your shoulders slumped in defeat, “It’s fine. I doubt they’ll even notice.” 

—

You were wrong. They do notice. 

Everyone is already waiting inside for the two of you, nestled around a table in the bar in a similar arrangement to the very first night you’d been introduced to the group. There’s only two empty seats left conveniently, right next to each other. You don’t miss that mischievous look of success on Robin’s face as she looks overly proud of herself.

They’d set it up so we’d sit next to each other. 

You’re grateful for your friends’ antics until you go to take the empty seat next to Steve.

“Is that Eddie’s shirt?” 

Robin is leaning around Steve eagerly as she says it, ridiculing the shirt intensely. 

“What?” you laugh nervously, looking down and tugging at the fabric. 

Lie. Make up a lie. Make it good. 

“That is Eddie’s shirt,” Nancy looks surprised across the table, looking up at the two of you questioningly. 

“What?” you repeat yourself. Eddie has already taken his seat, and is avoiding the stares of everyone, “No, it’s not.” 

“He has one just like it,” Jonathan adds fuel to the fire, “He literally wore it - what? Two days ago?” 

In a pathetic attempt of an excuse, you plop down in your seat and force an offended look, “People can own the same shirt. He’s not the gatekeeper of-” you look down, and nearly erupt in embarrassment when you see what the shirt is. “Deftones.” 

Ah, fuck. 

It’s not just the embarrassment of being on the verge of getting caught in your lie – it’s the memories that flood back. You, on Eddie’s lap. Your mouth and his becoming one. Steve calling, and you sucking so innocently on Eddie’s neck. 

Fuck. 

You really wish Steve and Robin hadn’t interrupted earlier. 

“It’s not like I got it at a show,” Eddie shrugs, and you wonder for a moment if he’s lying, “They’ve gotten more popular lately. I’ve seen their shit in Target.” 

“Exactly!” you exclaim a little too loudly, a little too quick to defend yourself, “Exactly. I just thought it looked cool at Target. Besides, tonight is about Argyle.”

You smile at the birthday boy, and he returns the joy as he waves a little at you. The reminder is all it takes for everyone’s attention to return to the focus of the night – everyone’s attention but Nancy’s. 

You can feel her eyes on you as conversation sparks up and debates of ordering shots begin. Everyone is busy asking Argyle what his plans for next weekend are – which are mostly composed of normal family gatherings, probably a homemade cake, etc. – but Nancy is watching you and Eddie like a hawk. In the peripheral of your eye, you watch the way she leans back so casually into Jonathan's around her shoulder, looking like she knows. You’re probably just being paranoid. You’re definitely just being paranoid. 

You try to ignore it, and instead let yourself just enjoy the moment. All your friends gathered, a group in which you finally feel like you belong to, jokes being made and laughter being exchanged that has you feeling a bit giddy. It’s nice. Even between the smoke of the room and the flickering lights overhead, murmuring chatter of nearby patrons mingling right in with your group’s noise, it’s homely. The smell of drunken cigars and fruity cocktails should be overwhelming, but you just let it wrap you up instead. 

And when you turn your head, inhaling deeply the smell of cinnamon and musk rather than all those other foreign anomalies, you find Eddie already looking at you. Soft eyes, bitten grin, a few loose curls framing his cheeks as his bangs curl up into his forehead. Even in the shoddy lighting, he takes your breath away. 

He’s looking at you. Just like that first night. Dozens of other people in this room at this moment, and he only has eyes for one – he only has eyes for you.

“So!” Argyle announces, “I think, my dudes, instead of doing what Birdie had so… excitedly suggested,” and oh, he was being generous and calling Robin suggesting he took twenty three shots for his twenty third birthday just her being excited rather than foolish, “We should just take the twenty three shots and split them up amongst the group.” 

Steve and Jonathan immediately groan, protesting how they’re driving, and Eddie only shakes his head with a chuckle. So far, he’d only ordered and been nursing on a plain coke, no whiskey. 

Somehow, sitting beside him with the group is worse than keeping distance. 

When he’d taken off his jacket, you’d silently begged for him to rest an arm across the back of your chair just as Jonathan was doing to Nancy. And he had, almost too naturally before he’d caught himself. It would have been easier to play off cooly, probably would have gone unnoticed, but your boy had practically jumped out of his bones as he’d flinched and tucked his arm back into himself suddenly. He’d even bumped his elbow against his own seat in his haste.

And Nancy had noticed. 

“That’s only three shots per person!” Argyle defends, “Four for me, since you know – birthday boy.” 

While Eddie may be avoiding alcohol tonight, you aren’t. Not unusual, but it had been odd when Eddie had told the waitress your order of an amaretto sour rather than you telling her yourself. 

Another strike. Another thing Nancy had noticed with her watchful eye.

“I’m down,” you shrug, “Hell, I’ll even take an extra shot if those two dumbasses won’t.” 

“Is that a good idea?” 

You wish Eddie had been drinking to excuse his idiocracy. Because all it takes is him saying that, not with malice but with concern, and the look on Nancy’s face told you she was officially catching on.

He hadn’t said it with the concern of a friend prepared to warn against drinking yourself sick. He’d said it with the concern of someone who would be taking care of you by the end of the night, of someone who would be dealing with the aftermath of that many shots. 

You two were bombing this whole secrecy, to put it lightly. 

You try to save the moment but laughing it off, turning to him slightly and teasing, “What, are you my keeper now?” 

Despite your best efforts, the statement doesn’t come across as friendly banter. It’s not quite fighting either. It’s a dare, you dangling something in Eddie’s face that no one else at this table quite sees. A stupid, idiotic continuation of your flirtatious game of cat and mouse from earlier in the apartment, when he’d deliberately gotten you hot and bothered. When he’d deliberately let you leave in his shirt. His palm is warm when he shifts ever so slightly, placing it on your thigh beneath the table. Out of sight from everyone else. Fueling and fanning all your growing flames. 

You two were toeing a very dangerous line tonight. 

His eyes darken a bit, and you pray no one else notices in the dim bar lighting, “I don’t know, am I?” 

Everyone is distracted enough with your idea. Steve and Jonathan were agreeing, saying they could take one shot and then others in the group could shoulder the extras. Robin was quick to also say she’ll take an extra one. But Nancy is silent, watching your quiet exchange with Eddie. 

“I don’t think you are, Munson.”

Except he is. Without a single doubt in your bones, you know that he is. 

Your playful smile betrays you. It tugs up the corners of your mouth and it’s clear to any outsider this wasn’t a brewing argument. The game was obvious if anyone was watching close enough. And Nancy, ever the smart one, was watching close enough. 

She’s playing her cards right, you realize, when she waits until the group has ordered the round of shots to say anything. 

“So, Eddie,” she begins, drawing the entire group’s attention to her best friend, “Do anything fun today?” 

He nearly chokes on his coke subtly. “I- Um-” 

“You just didn’t answer any of my texts today,” she continues on, “Must have been busy, yeah?” 

Eddie retracts his hand from your thigh, far more elusive in this action than he had been about removing his arm from your chair, before he fiddles with his hands in his lap. “Yeah – no, yeah. Sorry about that, Nance.” 

He pulls his phone from his pocket for no apparent reason. The shiny new smartphone, having not even bought a case or screen protector yet. You’d already yelled at him for that, claiming out of everyone, you trust him the least to not break the phone on the first day. He’d only laughed and shut you up with a kiss. 

His new phone is placed face down on the table, cherry red glinting, “I just had to go to the mall and-”

“Is that a new phone?” Argyle interrupts him, catching sight of the movement and the glinting, “Oh, holy shit, my dude! That’s a new phone! That is an iPhone if I’ve ever seen one!” 

Everyone – Robin, Steve, Jonathan – are rapidly leaning to catch sight of it as if they can’t believe it. Eddie continues to shrink at being the center of attention suddenly. 

“It is,” Steve laughs in disbelief, “Never thought I’d see the day, Munson.” 

Robin scrunches her face, “Does this mean we have to add him to the group chat?” 

You let out a giggle at that, lips pressed to try and contain some of that smile breaking through as you look at him and wiggle your brows. He immediately rolls his eyes, but picks up the phone regardless to give everyone a better look. 

“Yes, yes. I’ve finally joined the dark side,” he teases everyone just as the waitress returns with the tray of shots. Jonathan is the only one with enough sense to look away from Eddie’s spectacle, thanking her kindly, “Feast your eyes, my friends, for this is where my five hundred dollars went-” 

“Holy shit.” 

Nancy’s sudden whisper of an exclamation has everyone freezing. Eddie stops spinning and flipping the phone to show it off, staring at her with nothing but concerned, “What? What happen-” 

Nancy shares a look with Robin as they both grin.

Oh no. 

“Eddie,” Nancy says slowly, turning her head back his way slowly. 

“What?” Eddie frowns, eyes flitting back and forth between Nancy and Robin.

Robin is the one to ask the question rather than Nancy, “What exactly is your lockscreen?” 

Eddie goes pale. You’re confused, looking at the phone he’s currently cradling with the screen against his palm. 

Did he even change it? Wouldn’t it just be one of the default ones? 

“Guys,” you decide to come to his rescue, still impossibly confused, “It’s probably just some default screen, don’t tease him.” 

“That was not a default screen,” Nancy laughs out. 

Argyle looks around at everyone. Nancy and Robin, both with mischievous glints in their eyes. Eddie, still ghostly white as if he’s been caught red-handed. Steve and Jonathan, both just shrugging at each other. “Uh…. Why do I feel like I’m missing something here?”

“Show the class your lock screen, Eds.”

“Fuck off, Nancy.” 

“Oh my God,” Robin coos, leaning across Steve and pressing you back gently to catch sight of Eddie, who’s dipping his face down, “He’s blushing!” 

“Guys, leave him alone,” Steve insists, sharing a look with you now. But you have no clue what’s going on.

You have no clue what his lockscreen is. 

“Edward Munson, show us that lockscreen right now, or I’m Venmo-requesting five hundred dollars from you,” Robin continues to threaten. 

You look away from Steve and at Eddie immediately, leaning in closer to his space. He looks at you, clearly focusing on your presence more than everyone else’s, and smiles like a child trying to get out of trouble. 

“Eddie,” you say quietly, almost impossible for your friends to hear, “What the fuck is your lockscreen?” 

He slowly and carefully turns the screen towards you, making sure only your eyes can see it, and- oh.

It’s a low quality photo. Clearly taken on his flip phone. Details just a little fuzzy, and the darkness of the photo wasn’t helping. But you can see it clearly. You can make out exactly what it was that had Nancy and Robin losing their minds. 

It’s a picture of you and Eddie, with your head on Eddie’s chest.

For a moment, everyone else at the table doesn’t exist. You hadn’t been insane that night – he had taken a photo. A snapshot of the moment where everything had changed. The moment in which you had given up the fight and completely succumbed to just how much Eddie meant to you, how badly you pined for him and how deeply you liked him. 

“I was going to make it the one of you at Betty’s,” he whispers, “But, I just- I really liked this photo.” 

He’s still tense, as if he expects you to be upset with him. 

You’re the farthest thing from upset at him. 

“You made me your lockscreen?” you breathe out, a slow-growing smile beginning to stretch your lips. 

You’re not upset at him. As a matter of fact, you’re in love with him. You want to scream it from every rooftop, shout it to every stranger on the street – you are in love with Eddie Munson.

And you have been for a while. You just hadn’t found a way to tell him yet.

“Yeah,” he loosens up a little when he realizes you’re happy, enamored with the fact, “Yeah, of course I did. Who else am I going to make it besides my favorite…. Enemy?” 

He says it loud enough for everyone to hear clearly. All of Nancy’s teasing has come to a halt, Robin has settled back into her chair, and Steve is finally looking too curious for his own good. 

“As birthday boy,” Argyle breaks the moment, shatters away the bubble you and Eddie always seemed to end up in, “I am demanding I get to see this lockscreen.” 

Eddie doesn’t make any move to show the screen to any other person, only watching you for approval. 

Well, so much for next time. 

You give him a little nod. 

Eddie makes a dramatic show of it, sighing heavily before he very slowly turns his lockscreen to face everyone else. But even in his dramatics, you can see that weight lifting off his chest.

This, as a matter of fact, changes everything. 

No more hiding, no more lying. One simple flash of his phone screen, of a photo he had taken on a night that no one has even been gifted the details of yet, and all your friends suddenly know.

The reactions all vary. 

Argyle leans forward and squints before his face breaks out into pure joy for the two of you, “Oh, fuck yes! Best birthday gift ever. Pay up, my dudes!” 

Jonathan leans backward, digging out his wallet as he murmurs, “Son of a bitch.” 

Steve only smiles and shakes his head, also digging for his wallet as he seemingly chastizes himself, “I should have fucking known.” 

“Hold on,” you look between everyone as Jonathan digs out a couple twenties, “Wait, did you guys fucking bet on this?” 

“We did,” Robin answers you, holding up a hand to make Jonathan and Steve pause their retrieval of cash, “What do you take us for? Idiots? Now, gentlemen, before either of you payout, we’ve gotta ask the most important question,” she shoves a palm against Steve’s chest so that he’s out of line of sight, gaze set on you and Eddie, “When did this happen?” 

You don’t have any time to be mad at your friends. Because when Robin asks you this, suddenly you’re back to two months ago. You’re outside your dorm with Eddie, kissing him as if tomorrow would never be promised, and you’re home. 

You pulled back from Eddie finally, both of you gasping for breath as he held you steady. Your exchange from moments before still hung heavy in the air. 

You liked him, you liked him, you liked him. 

And the feeling was mutual. 

You’d already known, but it was nice to hear. It was nice to be reminded that this, what had happened between you two, was so very real. 

“I don’t wanna start over,” the words tumbled from your tongue before you could consider them, upheaving from your chest, desperate for Eddie to heard them, “I- I don’t need to start over. I like our story, okay? You had been right – it wasn’t all bad, and… and I don’t want to start over. I never want you to be a stranger again, and I know that sounds stupid-” 

“It’s not stupid,” he interrupted you, forehead meeting yours, “So very not stupid.” 

“I don’t care if you were a dick,” you continued on, carefully, “I was, too. We were both… shitty. I forgive you. I’ll forgive you a thousand times over, as long as you keep trying to make it up to me.” 

“Make it up to you?” he grinned playfully, “And just how do you suggest I start making it up to you?” 

“Ask me out,” his eyebrows raised in surprise, and you knew you must have looked like a wild idiot to everyone else, but you didn’t care, “To dinner, to a movie, to just hang around your apartment with you for another twenty four hours – I don’t care. Just… Just please, Munson, ask me out.” 

And so he had. A first date, a second date, a third. You two had gone through the entire ordeal of every cliche relationship despite the unconventional beginning. You’d gone to dinner, you’d gone to a movie, and you had done plenty of hanging out around his apartment and more. 

“The night of the bet,” Eddie answers as he finally brings an arm up around your shoulders, just as he had wanted to earlier. 

Immediately, both Robin and Argyle let out their own curses, pulling out their wallets just as Steve and Jonathan had. 

You look between them, all the annoyance you should feel just being run over with adoration for these idiots. Your eyes land on Nancy, and when you realize she’s the only one at the table not coughing up any cash, you ask her, “I’m assuming you guessed correctly?” 

“I did,” she nods, looking proud of herself. 

“How’d you know?” 

Nancy raises a threatening finger, before suddenly pointing it right in Eddie’s direction, “That idiot has always been down bad for you-”

“Okay, okay,” Eddie stops her, “I’ve already told her the nitty gritty details. No need to embarrass me.” 

“No need to embarrass you?” Nancy asks in disbelief, “Good God, just how many times did I have to sit and listen to you pine for her? No, no – I have earned this, Munson.” 

You look at Eddie, a glint in your eye, “You only told me about the first time.”

“I only remembered the first time,” he counters, blushing under yellow and faded lights, “I was usually dru-”

“Don’t lie,” Nancy stops him, “There were plenty of rants where you were dead sober.” 

Everyone only smiles at Eddie, a few teasing comments made his way, but none of them matter as you lean into his side, your shoulder bumping his to the best of your ability with his arm still around you.

“Aw, babe,” you coo, warm all over for the man beside you, “You had a crush on me? That’s cute.” 

His chin lowers, eyes boring into yours with unlimited affection. For a moment, it’s just you and Eddie. The guise of you two having your own bubble of a moment. 

His head tilts further, his ears brushing your ear as he whispers for just you to hear, “So did you, if I’m not mistaken.” 

“Not mistaken,” you whisper back. Money is now being exchanged, tossed across the table with grumbles that hold no heat. 

Yeah, you did have a crush on Eddie. You still do. You don’t think you’ll ever stop having a crush on him, even as he’s surrendered himself as yours. Especially not when his thumb is stroking your shoulder as it is now. 

Just like that very first night. The smoky bar fades to nothingness, your tunnel vision focused on Eddie. You know jokes are being made about the two of you by your friends, but it’s all white noise when he’s looking at you like this. Like you’re everything to him, like he’s just returned home after a long week. 

You’d really like to be his home to return to after every long week, for the rest of your lives, but there’ll be time to ponder on that later. For now, you two have time. 

The voice inside your head suddenly comes to life as it recognizes that this is your moment. You can tell him. Now that you’ve told everyone else, you can tell him those three words. Finally get them off your chest. Make it real. 

“Hey, Munson,” you say, still quiet enough for the words to only reach his ears. He perks up, eager to drink your next words. You have all his attention. You always have all his attention, “I-” and then you choke. He stares curiously for a few seconds, and the words just won’t come out. You want to scream – you wonder if it would work if you screeched the three words at the top of your lungs. Probably not, “I’m just really glad you didn’t really hate me,” a pathetic excuse at a coverup,  “And… I’m really glad they made that first bet.” 

He smiles so softly, it strikes you right in the center of your chest. Right amongst your garden that not only had you tended for him, but that he had also had a hand in watering these last few months. 

You should have told him. You love him, and you should have told him. 

“I’m really glad I didn’t hate you, too,” he remarks, squeezing your shoulder a little tighter, “Actually, I’m glad you don’t hate me. Not anymore, at least.” 

“I never really did.”

“You definitely sort of did. You tried to take me out with a glass, remember?” 

You burst into secluded laughter, hearing your friends beginning to pass around the shots but paying them no mind. 

Eddie can’t help it. He pulls you in close, placing an impulsive kiss to your temple and letting his lips linger there. Just pressed against you, breathing in the scent of you. 

That kiss sends shivers down your spine, warmth through the center of your bones. You love him. 

You love him, you love him, you love him. 

So why can’t you just tell him that?

“Aw!” Robin pulls the two out of your bubble, “Aren’t they just adorable?”

“Yes, yes,” Steve passes two shot glasses down to your end of the table, “Absolutely adorable. It’s nauseating. Also, I’d like to go on record – I totally knew the entire time. I was just giving them the benefit of the doubt.” 

“Playing the Devil’s advocate?” Argyle asks, lining up his multiple shots, “I dig it. Even though you’re totally lying right now.” 

“You’re so lucky it’s your birthday, dude,” Steve rolls his eyes, clearly holding back an insult. 

Eddie’s arm stays heavy on you, a welcome weight as you sit up straighter to take your own several shots. 

These were your friends. Somewhere you belonged, filled with people you loved and a boy you could come home to after all your long weeks. A certain happiness that is rare, and impossible to place, and can nearly bring you to tears overwhelms you as you grab that first shot. 

“Also-” Steve turns to you and Eddie, “I knew that was Munson’s shirt. The day he got it, all he did was brag about what a rare find it was. Fuck off with your Target bullshit.” 

Eddie’s hand leaves your shoulder long enough to reach out and thump Steve, laughter booming and vibrating against you, “Sure you did, Stevie.” 

“Target has some nice things,” Nancy offers with a shrug, now holding her own shot glass. 

The seven of you all hold up the first of what will probably be too many shots tonight, the beginning of a night that will probably be remembered through killer hangovers tomorrow and possibly even captured on camera by the likes of Jonathan, Steve, and Eddie. 

“To Argyle,” you take the lead on the cheers, jittery and anxious as all the love you continue to withhold buzzes in your chest, lifting your small glass in his direction, “The most lovable twenty three year old I know.” 

Everyone moves to drink, but Argyle immediately shakes his head, “Nah, fuck that. It’s not even my birthday yet – I demand a new toast.” 

He lifts his brows, staring you down and silently adding, you know what to do. 

And yeah, you did know what to do. 

“Fine,” you sigh dramatically, leaning further forward, Eddie’s arm following. You relish in the tense silence as everyone waits for what you’re about to say instead. Even Eddie is waiting with bated breath, watching your every move, a contrasting yet easy smile on his face, “To bets.” 

A booming applause from your group. Glasses tapping against the wooden table before shots are downed. Groans of disgust as the tequila hits everyones’ tongues. 

Eddie hardly waits before you’ve both swallowed to remove his arm and grab your face, turning your cheek so that his lips can capture yours. Everyone only cheers louder, Steve letting out an obnoxious whistle as Argyle claps. You’re surely going to get kicked out of the bar at this rate. But you really don’t care as you kiss your boy back. 

Next time. You have to tell him next time. 

—

The night ends in more of a whisper than a bang, surprisingly. 

Everyone has suddenly become a happy drunk, probably from all the love and good news passed around throughout the night. It’s all warm feelings and warm hugs, tequila on the breath and love on the mind. 

You don’t even get kicked out of the bar. Your waitress only smiles at your rowdy table from time to time, and you figure that all the good vibes must be rubbing off on her. 

Steve is the first to call it quits. Robin has drank enough to give herself the hiccups, and he says that after that, she almost always gets viciously nauseous. He wants to get in the car and home before she gets to the point, for the sake of his car’s interior not getting covered in puke.

It’s a domino effect from there.

Argyle quickly agrees, Jonathan offers a guiding arm to Nancy, and Eddie’s arm only tightens around you. The group closes out the tab, putting off worries of everyone paying Jonathan back until tomorrow. Quick, simple, painless. 

Until you all get outside. And goodbyes are exchanged – that’s not the part that gets to you – with promises of seeing each other throughout the week. Everyone congratulates you and Eddie one more time for good measure, Nancy and Steve looking the most proud of you two as Argyle and Robin giggle like children about it. And it’s fine – you laugh along and it’s all good. You let them get in all their I told you so’s and know it’s all in good fun. 

It’s all fine. Until you two branch off from the group, Eddie’s bike across the lot from everyone else’s cars. 

The moment you two are alone, you can’t tell if it’s the alcohol or if it’s the levity of suddenly having a moment that only belongs to you. Your mind wastes no time of reminding you of your pathetic cop out: I’m just really glad you didn’t really hate me. None of those words even sound akin to the real ones you should have said.

I love you. 

It’s not because your friends have found out. You know it’s not that, because just last week, right after your breakdown about whether you were smothering Eddie by half-living in his apartment, you’d had a breakdown because you realized you wanted to fully live in his apartment. You’d had a breakdown because you hadn’t grown tired of him yet, hadn’t satisfied the need to see his face every morning when you first wake up yet. You hadn’t gotten bored with all his lingering affectionate touches. You hadn’t gotten used to the way he’d kiss you in the middle of sentences. He was still taking your breath away, two months later, and you had a breakdown because you realized it wasn’t novelty or a pathetic crush making you feel this way.

You had a breakdown because you love Eddie. 

You love him, ardently so, and you still can’t find the right moment to say those words to him. He deserves to know – the entire foundation of this relationship was honesty.

It’s all you can think about as his hand finds yours and he’s walking up to his bike, practically dragging you up to his bike as your legs forget how to work amongst nerves. 

“So, I was thinking,” he carries on conversation so casually, “You want to spend the night at my place? I know you said you don’t have any class-“ 

Now. Not later, not next time. Now. 

“Hey, Eddie?” you interrupt him, stopping the two of you a few paces away from his bike. 

His face is impossibly concerned as he looks down at you, clearly reading the worry on your face, “What’s up, babe?” 

Here goes nothing – be brave.

“I-” 

Why is this so hard? 

It shouldn’t be this hard, because loving Eddie is easy. 

It’s easy when he’s looking at you like this, like he always does. It’s easy when he wakes up after you, and he comes into the kitchen to just wrap himself around you as you make him coffee, no matter what time of day it might be. It’s easy when he catches your eye from across the room during outings, sometimes winking once he knows you’ve found his gaze, just to see you laugh. It’s easy when he tries to distract you from homework when you’ve been spending far too many hours hunched over your laptop on his couch, coming and bugging you, laying his head on your lap and insisting his girl needs a break. It’s easy when he kisses you and everything just feels right. 

It’s easy. He loves you – you love him.  It isn’t hard. You’re making this hard, when it never was. 

“I love you,” you admit quietly, voice shaking as the words leave you easily. 

Loving Eddie is easy. 

“I love you,” you say more surely, voice raising in volume as you find the willpower to look into his eyes, “I love you so fucking much, Eddie.” 

Each time you say it, you gain confidence in it. It’s true – you love him. You love him so much, it encompasses every inch of your being. It entirely consumes you. You love him. 

His face falls slowly, mouth agape and eyes boring into yours.

You don’t wait for his response. You already have it – in the way he’s still holding your hand, in the way he holds you at the end of each night, in the way he knows both your orders at bars and coffee shops. In the way he will always put himself between you and the street when walking down the sidewalk, in the way when he roughly stops his bike at stop lights that his hand always flies back to hold onto you. In every soft touch and every expression of devotion he has offered you for not just two months, but for over a year. 

“You love me?” he softly asks, finally beginning to come back to life. 

You nod without hesitation, “I love you, Eddie.” 

Now that you’ve started saying it, you can’t stop it. And each time, it’s still heavy and sweet like honey, even as the confession comes as easy as breathing. It’s pouring from every crevice, filling up the night air around you. 

He takes you off guard with a harsh kiss. His teeth colliding with yours, his breath stealing yours, his entire being molded with yours. 

“Say it again,” he begs in a murmur as he pulls you in even closer, desperate as you break into a smile, “God, please say it again, sweetheart.” 

“I love you,” your cheeks begin to ache, the kiss no longer even to be a considered a kiss as you two are just mindlessly pressing your smiles together, “I love you, I love you, I love you,” with each repeat of the sentiment, Eddie drinks it in, “I’m so fucking in love with you, Eddie Munson. You and your stupid lockscreen and-”

“You do not think my lockscreen is stupid,” he pulls away, raising his eyebrows as his palms squish your cheeks, “I saw the way you looked at me. You were eating that shit up.” 

You bite your lip, trying to pull further away from him, but he won’t let you, “I was not-”

“You were,” he cheekily teases, eyes bright as he looks at you, “You were, and it was the best thing ever. Totally worth stealing Argyle’s spotlight.” 

“We didn’t steal Argyle’s spotlight,” you try to defend yourself. 

“We so did.”

You shake your head to the best of your abilities, face still between his hands, “We… Okay, we sort of did.”

He grins like a young boy, all his youth and all his love on show for you as he leans down, pausing right before pressing another kiss to your lips, “We definitely did. And it’s fair, because they fucking bet on us.” 

“They did,” you agree, not even feeling guilty anymore, too consumed by the love for the man right in front of you, “They tend to do that a lot, don’t they?” 

“They do.” 

He finally surges forward, lips sealing against yours one last time. It’s less messy this time, more meaningful. A bit more patient as he takes the time to fit his lips into yours, just as they should be. 

You have an audience. You’re completely oblivious until you hear the cheering from across the parking lot, snapping apart to both glance at where Argyle and Robin are jumping up and down, screaming their heads off. 

“Hell yeah, my dudes!” Argyle’s voice booms as Robin only produces incoherent coos to echo. 

Nancy, Steve, and Jonathan are all just watching silently, shaking their heads, but you can also see their grins. Almost as radiant as you felt.

Steve finally cups his hands around his mouth, sending his voice to you over Argyle’s continuing whooping, “Get a room!” 

Perfectly in sync, you and Eddie both throw up a hand with your middle fingers raised in their direction, still half tangled in each other. 

Your eyes find Nancy. She’s looking at you two with overwhelming pride, a certain satisfaction that breathes out the relief of finally. This may be a weight off not only your chest but Eddie’s as well, yet you can’t help but imagine just how she feels. How many nights she had stomached Eddie’s rambles about you leading up to this very moment. The pay off must be unimaginable. 

Finally. 

“Congrats on finally getting the girl, Munson!” she calls out, but her eyes are on you, winking. 

You see it now. Why they’re best friends. How all her best parts and Eddie’s best parts overlap and compliment one another perfectly. 

Jonathan is the final one to yell across the parking lot at you two, one arm slung around Nancy as the other moves to unlock his car, even his usually grumpy face showing signs of elation in that timid smile, “Now take your girl, home, dude. Spare the rest of us the gory details.” 

Eddie’s laugh reverberates against you physically from how he holds you, also making its way to burrow deep within your chest where all that liquid bliss belongs, as he throws his entire head back and makes you finally focus on just him again. Home. Not just his apartment, but him. You realize now that it’s simply wherever he goes. Where he leads, you’ll follow. It could be a shitty dorm room with a mattress that leaves your back aching, it could be a comforting apartment that holds you ‘hostage’ for twenty four hours straight – it doesn’t really matter. Wherever he is, home is. He’s your home; you love him, he knows you love him, and he’s your home. 

When his laughter finally fades, and he’s looking at you again, his dimples are prominent as ever through his whisper, “Just in case you’ve forgotten – I’m very much in love with you, too, sweetheart.” 

His lips meet yours for good measure. 

It’s been the longest week of your life, the longest year, but you’re finally home.

taglist: @catherinnn @haylaansmi @gaysludge @paprikaquinn @manda-panda-monium @audhd-dragonaut @blushingquincy @hellkaisersangel @eddieslittlewh0re @ajkamins @prettyboy200 @munsonzzgf @blue-eyed-lion @digwhatudug @madaboutjoe @wickedslashdivine @sweet-villain @somespicystuff @big-ope-vibes @jadequeen88 @sylviin @emma77645 @notbeforelong @lolalanaie @lo-siento-ama @happy-and-alone @micheledawn1975 @aysheashea @moon-huny @munsonswrld @bambipowerblueaddition @averagestudent03 @bakugouswh0r3 @mattefic @mxcheese @bietchz @nativity-in-black @stezzil @vngelis @coley0823 @folklorebau @luvmunson86 @theherothesavior @keene200213 @hargrovesswifee @m-chmcl-rmnc @cherrymedicine13 @iunaelumen777

[strangersteddierthings]

Steddie Week Day 1: Hunger / Pining / Somebody to Love by Queen @steddie-week

It's right there. It's just inches away, hanging off the edge of the popcorn bowl, like when Steve had set the bowl between them on the couch, he couldn't be bothered to fully move his hand away. Or, more likely, he was keeping a loose grip on it so that it wouldn't go flying off the couch, spilling popcorn across the floor like last time. (Eddie maintains his innocence; it's not his fault he's fidgety and nervous around Steve, so really, it was Steve's fault for, like, existing or something.)

Steve's hand is inches away and near the popcorn. He could reach out, just brush his pinky against Steve's, all nonchalant-like. If it brought about a negative reaction, he could always brush it off as reaching for the popcorn blindly and misjudging the distance.

This shouldn't be that difficult. He's held Steve's hand before! Or, well, Steve held his hand, and he didn't exactly hold back but that was on account of the three-day coma, and then later because he didn't have the strength to. Sure, once he was fully awake and aware, Steve quit holding his hand, but he knew. And by knew, he does mean he asked Dustin if he hallucinated that bit and Dustin was delighted to tell him, no, not a hallucination, Steve couldn't be pried from his hand except by a medical professional.

He's seen Steve hold other people's hands, so he knows Steve's a hand holding kind of guy, even platonically (he does not want this to be platonically, but he'll take what he can get). Steve holds Robin's hand all the time. Most of the time it's because Robin is overthinking something and Steve is acting as an anchor to reality, but Eddie's certain the lack of hand holding outside of (minor) crises is because Robin isn't one for hand holding.

Steve's held Dustin's hand, usually when they've picked a movie that perhaps shouldn't have included the younger ones of their group. He holds El's hand all the time. She'll just walk over and grab it, linking their fingers and just stand or sit in silence by each other. Eddie doesn't ask about it, even as he's vibrating on the inside to know how that habit formed, and why.

And it's not like Steve shrinks away from touch in general. People are hanging off of him all the time, between impromptu dogpiles and piggyback rides around the pool, someone always seems to be in Steve's space, leaning on or otherwise touching him. A hand rest on his forearm while Nancy chats with him, Argyle leaning his whole body against Steve with an arm slung around him as they chat and laugh about who knows what, Max having no problems manhandling Steve to the ground so she and El can use Steve as a human pillow for a summertime nap in the shade.

Eddie, himself, has rarely dared to reach out, though. For all the bravado of that fateful spring break, with as much as Eddie leans into Steve's space, he can't bring himself to touch. Touching might destroy him. To get to reach out, to touch, even just the brush of Eddie's fingertips against Steve's arms might break him. He knows he'll crave it so much more than he does now.

And oh, does he crave to touch. Holding Steve's hand is the end goal, but he's not sure he can even work up to that if the thought of brushing his pinky against Steve's is almost working him into a panic attack. It's just him and Steve, watching Star Wars on a Friday night.

No big deal.

Except it's a huge deal.

Eddie's wanted to hold Steve's stupid hand since he first noticed him. Steve was a freshman, and Eddie a sophomore. He didn't notice him right away. It was after Christmas break. The fire alarm had gone off and everyone was gathered on the football field, awaiting the news about if it was a real fire, or someone smoking in the bathroom. Eddie was looking for George, his only friend at the time, and his eyes had landed on Steve at just the right time. Snow lightly dusted his hair, and his head was thrown back in a genuine and loud laugh, so loud and genuine that Steve ended up making a snorting noise that startled Steve and the guys around him. Eddie watched as Steve's face turned pink with embarrassment before he doubled over, laughing at himself. His friends followed suit and Eddie couldn't stop staring.

(Never mind the whole bit where Eddie's crush waned as Steve became mean, King of Hawkins High and whatnot. Also never mind how it surged back during Eddie's second senior year, Steve's only senior year, when they were in a lot more classes, and Steve wasn't friends with Tommy H and Carol anymore, and also more subdued. Not enough to forgive his past transgressions, but enough that Eddie could allow himself to think of Steve as cute again without too much shame.)

It's a miracle, Eddie's sure, that he's even on this couch with Steve at all. The journey they've been through just to get to a point where Eddie can pine from eight inches away instead of afar.

He glances down at the popcorn bowl again, finds it half empty. Watches as Steve reaches for another handful of popcorn with the hand not holding the bowl -honestly, you spill the popcorn once- and brings to up, shoving the whole handful in his mouth at once. Steve's cheeks puff out like a chipmunk's for a moment before he furiously chews and swallows, like some heathen. That was a full hand of popcorn!

Eddie's in love.

His eyes dart down to Steve's hand again. He can do this. He can. He will, in fact. See, just watch. Arm lifted. Moving sideways, it's less than four inches now. Three. Two.

Aaaaand now he's got a handful of popcorn he doesn't actually want to eat. He cradles the palmful of popcorn with the hand that betrayed him and uses his other to pick up one piece at a time and eat them slowly.

Tastes like buttery sadness.

The movie probably has twenty minutes left and Eddie has spent the movie hyping himself up for nothing. He's not brave enough to do it.

He wipes his hand on his jeans and reaches for the bowl again. He might not be brave enough to reach out and touch, but he is brave enough to hold on to the bowl, an imitation of Steve's hold. Their hands are barely an inch apart this way and Eddie supposes that will be enough for now.

He tries for 5 minutes to focus on Star Wars, but then something brushes his pinky. Unthinking, Eddie just pushes back, and that must have been all the confirmation needed, because then Steve is hooking his pinky over Eddie's.

Eddie, ever subtle, whips his head sideways to look. To confirm. Then his eyes fly up to Steve, who is looking back. For a moment Steve looks like he's been caught doing something wrong and his finger twitches in Eddie's grip, like he's going to pull back. Eddie tries to tighten his pinky with Steve's and give him a small smile.

Steve returns the smile, small and almost shy, before turning back to the TV.

Eddie does the same, even as butterflies erupt in his chest, and he feels like he's going to throw up or faint.

[ariesbilly]

What do you think about a deaf billy AU?

where Neil moved his family to the middle of nowhere Indiana because he knows 80s bumfuck nowhere doesn’t have a lot of support for disabled ppl and hates his son (as we all know)

At first billy tries to hide it, he had gotten used to learning how to read lips and make inferences on what people were saying, if he happened to miss something? He’d just brush it off, saying he wasn’t paying attention.

Billy might have a slight deaf voice, Neil probably came along with his “no son of mine” spiel so Billy had to learn how to speak as Neil thought was “normal”.

Steve begins to notice something different about Billy; slowed reaction time, really focusing on people’s faces, etc, and brings it up to Joyce.

Joyce, concerned, waits until the next time Billy is in her store to ask if everything is okay. Billy panics, he thought he was doing perfect, if he doesn’t his dads gonna kill him, so he very quickly excuses himself out of the store.

Maybe some further concerned Steve and Joyce? Teaming up to help out Billy? 🥹

i am into all of this. i wanna say way back in the early days of the fandom there was a deaf!billy fic i read.... or it was steve. or it was neither of them and im thinking of another fandom entirely lmfao anyway!

this would put their little staredown at tinas in a whole new context...honestly it puts a lot of billy scenes in new context that boy loves to look and watch and observe.

i would also like to bring in cali bros argilly and say that argyle and billy learned to sign together back home bc neil surely wasnt going to put billy in classes and surely not learn himself, maybe billy had teachers at school who helped? but argyle wanted to learn too since they were besties and he was really the only person billy could talk to after that. so when the hargroves move to indiana billys on his own again and since he doesnt want to out himself as being deaf and ask if anyone knows how to sign, he just pretends to be aloof and like he doesnt give a shit about what anyone says to him (which isnt like... untrue lol)

if he and max still have a bad relationship in this au maybe she hasnt bothered to learn how to sign either cuz like... why is she gonna need it to talk to billy? they dont talk period

steve calling billys name when hes not looking trying to get his attention and it never working so a lightbulb goes off in his head and he starts writing notes to see if that works and sure enough...

joyce picking up books from the library and learning very basic signs for the next time billy comes into the store. she's just trying to be polite but it still makes billy panicky that someone knows. ooooh if neil and billy come into the store one day and she overhears neil giving billy shit about not listening to him and how he needs to get his shit together etc etc and she immediately decides this man needs to be put down like she is not having it but she also knows theres not a whole lot she can do right now besides make her presence known and get him to back down.

steve helping billy out in the classes they share together and even in the classes they dont he finds a way to get notes from other people without letting them know its for billy, and billys constantly wondering how steve keeps pulling this off but steve wont reveal his secrets. them developing this silent language on the basketball court that makes them unbeatable... many thoughts many thoughts

idk how joyce and steve end up joining forces in all of this but i know they do!

[unfinishedslurs]

Nancy's GBF (ghost best friend)

IT'S OCTOBER QUICK POST GHOST BARB FIC

She dreams about Barb every night.

She’s dreamed about her before, of course, but ever since Vecna died it’s different. She doesn’t scream. Doesn’t cry. There’s no blame placed on Nancy’s shoulders, no shrieking accusations about how it should have been her instead. 

She’s a silent figure. Unmoving, unfeeling. No matter how far Nancy reaches, or how fast she runs, she can never get close. 

Eventually, she comes into focus, and it’s awful because she seems younger than she ever did in real life. Her best friend died a child, closer to her little brother’s age than Nancy’s own now. The red shade of her hair, the exact outfit she had on, it’s all things she forgets in the waking world. But for these few minutes she can have Barb back. Even if she can never hug her best friend again, or exchange secrets, or laugh together, she still has this.

When she wakes up, it’s with tears on her face.

“Nancy?” Jonathan asks groggily, still half asleep. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

Later, when he tells her he was accepted to Lenora Hills, she’ll wonder if she could have saved their relationship if she hadn’t started lying too.

Two months after the dreams start, Barb speaks. 

“Nancy? Nancy, it’s so cold. I don’t like it here, Nancy, please–”

In that moment, Nancy can finally reach out and take her hand.

She wakes up shivering and automatically checks her surroundings. Mike bursts through her door when she shrieks, her mom not far behind him.

They both try to ask her what’s wrong, but she can’t answer, too busy staring at the dead girl in the corner.

“Nancy?” Barb asks, pool water dripping down her chin. “What’s wrong with me?”

She tries to ignore it.

She’s having a mental breakdown of some kind, that’s fine. It’s to be expected, really. She’s been struggling keeping up with school, and the end of the world, and breaking up with Jonathan. Of course she’d see Barb around every corner. Of course she’d be cold all the time. Of course. And everyone knows the first step of having a mental break is to not feed into the delusion. 

She checks with El and Will, just to be safe.

They both look confused when they open the door, which makes sense. She and Jonathan have been split up for a month, she hasn’t exactly been around. Still, they accept her inside without question.

“I need you to make sure Henry isn’t back,” she blurts out as soon as the door shuts behind her. Both of them rear back in tandem, and something clatters in the kitchen. 

“Nancy?” Jonathan pokes his head around the corner, bewildered. “Are you okay?”

“Jonathan!” She feels herself flush. Why didn’t she think he’d be home? She knows he doesn’t have a job anymore, and his friend Argyle went back to California a while ago. Where else would he be?

“Nance, you’re pale,” he says, like she hasn’t noticed. As if her mom hasn’t said the same thing a hundred times in the past few days. He reaches out to guide her to the couch, and flinches back as soon as he feels her bare skin. “You’re freezing. Let me get you a blanket.”

She turns and looks at the kids as soon as he’s out of sight, noticing the way Will is rubbing the back of his neck nervously. “I’m sorry, I’ve been having weird dreams for a while, and lately it’s gotten…worse, I guess, and I need to make sure it’s not him. It doesn’t feel like him, but I need…I can’t…”

El’s face turns into something determined, and oh, Nancy hates asking this of her. But if Vecna isn’t really dead, if they can get a headstart on his next plan, well. The sooner the better.

Ten minutes later the three siblings are sitting across from her, El tying a blindfold around her eyes as a blanket sits on Nancy’s shoulders. It doesn’t do anything to help, of course. It’s nothing like when Will was possessed but the mindflayer. The heat doesn’t bother her, no matter how many times she brings a spare blanket to add to the pile on her bed or turns the shower faucet to its highest setting. In fact, she can’t feel it at all.

“Close your eyes,” El commands. “Focus. I need to be able to see inside you.”

She grimaces, involuntarily glancing at Barb in the corner. The past few days she’s been weeping nonstop. More than a few times, Nancy has cried with her. Now, though, she looks around the Byers’s new place curiously.

Nancy shuts her eyes.

“Don’t shut me out,” El reminds her gently, and then light floods her vision. 

Barb, always Barb. When they were kids they would push each other on the swingset and dare each other to climb trees. The last time she saw her, reassuring her she’d be fine before following Steve upstairs. Vecna daring to taunt her, as if she could ever forget what she’d lost.

A million memories, some she’d almost forgotten. And then it’s over too soon.

El rips the blindfold off, breathing heavily. Jonathan hands her a tissue for her nose, looking at Nancy with so much concern it feels like it’s going to kill her.

“What did you see?” Will asks frantically. “Was it him?”

El shakes her head, confirming what Nancy already knew deep down. “It wasn’t him.”

“Then what was it?” Jonathan asks, eyes still on Nancy. She raises a shaking hand to her face, and it comes away wet.

“Nothingness,” El finally says. “And then sadness, and cold, and dark. And a light. There was a light, and a hand, and then there was warmth and feeling again. But the feelings are bad. They are not Henry, but they are not good.”

“So she’s real?” Nancy’s voice cracks.

“What? Who’s real? Nancy, what’s going on?” Jonathan asks. WIll just looks at her, concern in his big eyes.

El tilts her head. “I think so? But I do not know her. I can’t see her like you can.”

“Who is ‘she?’” Jonathan demands. “Will someone tell me what’s going on?”

“I actually have to go,” Nancy says, almost stumbling as she stands up. She takes a moment to fold the blanket Jonathan gave her so kindly. He’s still trying to get her attention, but she brushes him off as she heads out the door and to her car.

“Nance, please, I know we broke up but I still care–”

“I know!’ She says, whipping around. Barb watches curiously from the corner of her eye. “I know you do, and that’s great, really, but it’s none of your business. I didn’t even think you’d be here, so…”

“Where else would I be?”

“I don’t know, Jonathan, California?” She snaps. He rears back. “Isn’t that where you’re going anyway? Just– stop acting like this is any of your business! We broke up, we’re done, I don’t… I don’t want to talk, Jon! Just leave it alone.”

“Nancy…” he reaches out, and Nancy takes a step back. Barb appears between them in an instant, and his hand passes right through her. He jumps, swearing and turning pale. Nancy feels herself gasp, feeling warm for the first time in days in that split second before he pulls back.

He watches her silently, with those big eyes she’s always been weak to. She doesn’t have anything to say to him, or maybe she has too much to say. Either way, she gets in her car silently, driving off and leaving him standing in the rearview.

For once, she doesn’t startle when Barb jumps into existence in the front seat.

“Byers, huh?” She asks, something like humor in her voice. She always sounds distant now, like she’s underwater, or whispering from across a field. But Nancy understands what she’s saying. She always will. 

Barb sighs when she doesn’t answer. “At least his brother’s alive, I guess.”

That makes Nancy laugh, a harsh cackle that would make her jump if it came out of someone else. “Yeah,” she agrees, speaking to the ghost of her best friend for the first time, “At least Will’s alive.”

It’s not like having Barb back. Not really.

She’s bitter, and angry, and she screams and yells and cries all the time. Sweeps her arm across Nancy’s desk like she’s trying to break something, and only gets angrier when she can’t. Yells at Nancy sometimes, which she knows she deserves.

There’s the blame for her death of course, which is nothing new. She’s been having nightmares about that for years. But then there’s the other stuff. The weird questions, like, “Why did you bring me back? Why couldn’t you let it be?”

When she asks about it, all she gets is Barb turning away from her.

“Nancy? Naaaaaaancy. Nance, are you listening to me?”

She turns her head and almost shrieks to see Robin staring at her, almost nose to nose. “What are you doing?”

“I’ve been trying to get your attention for, like, forever minutes,” she complains.

Nancy looks at Steve. “It was, like, forever,” he confirms, staring at her intensely. “You okay, Nance?”

 Eddie rolls his eyes. “It’s been thirty seconds,” he deadpans.

Robin flops onto the floor. “Forever.”

“I’m starting to think getting you guys high was a mistake.”

“You say that every time. It’s not even your weed.” Steve yanks the dying bud out of his hand, taking a drag that has to be mostly ash at this point and putting it out on the ashtray. They don’t do this often, or at least Nancy doesn’t join them often. She’s not fond of the floaty feeling the weed gives her, preferring alcohol if she’s not going to be sober. But Eddie asked her to come, and Steve and Robin prefer having more people around if they’re going to get high. Something about what the Russians gave them.

She hasn’t seen Jonathan here since they broke up, but she thinks that’s less about them not inviting him and more about everyone trying to give them both space. 

Nancy’s gaze has already wandered back to Barb. It’s been a quiet day today, which makes her nervous for tomorrow. But at least during quiet days she can seem semi-normal in front of her friends.

“Nancy? Seriously, are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she tells Steve, not bothering to look away from Barb. She looks from Nancy to Steve, this new, older Steve she’s seeing for the first time, and pretends to gag herself on a finger. The pool water that never stops coming out of her mouth splatters silently on the floor. Nancy doesn’t laugh. 

“Hey.” Steve moves in front of her, slightly wobbly as he sits cross legged across from her. She can barely see Barb past his hair. “Yanno, Jonathan asked about you.”

“What?” That breaks her from her trance.

“Yeah, he said he was worried about you. I asked him why he was asking me and not you, but he said you didn’t want to talk about it. But he was, like, really worried Nance. So, like, is everything alright?”

“Do you ever dream about dead people?” She blurts out.

All three of them go completely silent, staring at her. She laughs nervously. “Never mind! Never mind, that’s weird. Wow, why did I ask that? I think I took too many hits. Where’s your bathroom?”

“I mean,” Eddie says, after Steve doesn’t answer, “I dream about Chrissy all the time. How could I not? Shit was a real life nightmare, of course it made its way into my dreams.”

Steve shakes himself. “I guess I dream about Billy, but that’s different. I mean, it’s still a nightmare, but it’s not like…” his hand drifts unconsciously to the faint scar on his forehead. “It’s not about the Upside-Down, I guess. It’s not the same as my other nightmares.”

“I have dreams where people die all the time,” Robin declares, scooching herself across the floor until she can lay in Steve’s lap. “They suck.”

“Yeah, but are any of the dreams ever…weird to you guys? Like they’re not normal nightmares? Like they’re there all the time, just staring at you, and you try to reach for them but you never can?” She asks desperately.

The three of them look at each other, and shake their heads.

“Cool,” Nancy says, palms sweating. “Me neither.”

It’s raining when Mike storms into her room while Nancy is trying (and failing) to do college prep. “What is wrong with you?”

Barb starts laughing, a gurgling, chilling sound that Nancy heard once and made her summarily decide to never make a joke again. 

“What are you talking about?” She asks, eyes flitting between Mike and Barb. “Get out!”

“That’s exactly what I’m talking about,” he accuses. “You’re not even looking at me!”

“Maybe I just don’t want to see your dumb face.”

“Fuck off!”

“Michael!” Their mother hollers. 

He rolls his eyes. “Ugh, sorry!”

[is-emily-real]

Bonfire.

Written for Lex’s Spring Spicy Six Fanworks Challenge @thefreakandthehair Thank you so much for the prompt!

He drove home in a daze. He made a beeline for the telephone, unaware of the numbers he entered until he heard her voice. “Hello?”

“Nance, um, hi.” Of all the people his brain could call on instinct, why did it have to be Nancy? “It’s Steve.”

“You don’t sound good. Is everything okay?”

“Listen, I, uh… I just came from the city council meeting.”

“What happened?”

He took in a sharp breath. “They’re not going to demolish the Creel house.”

She sighed. “I expected as much. No one’s living on Morehead anymore. It’s not a priority.”

“Some kids are going to be messing around in there and the place’s gonna collapse!” His heart pounded. 

“Unless we do something about it, it’s going to have to sit for a bit longer. Just… Take a breath, okay? I’m sure it’ll all be fine.”

“Yeah, I’m just being stupid. Thanks. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Bye, Steve.”

He hung the phone back on the hook and slid down the wall. Fuck. He wanted it to be over. He wanted all traces of the Upside Down destroyed, all of his scars washed away, all of the kids’ hurt disintegrated. He wanted Max and Eddie to live normal lives.

But that wouldn’t happen. 

Unless we do something about it. Nancy’s words floated across his head, consuming him until they practically ran through his veins. If the city wouldn’t do anything, he would. He had to. That was his specialty, wasn’t it? He’d take the lead and make the city do something about it.

Almost without thought, Steve jumped to his feet and ran to the garage. He threw a gas can and a few bottles of kerosene in the trunk of his car. Next, he rifled through the kitchen, finding a book of matches and some old rags. He grabbed a bottle of whiskey, just for luck, and sped off.

He turned into the trailer park before he realized, coming to a stop in front of Eddie’s door. As he approached, he heard laughter. 

Steve yanked the door open to a scream. “Jesus, man, can’t you knock?” Eddie asked, setting a joint on the ashtray. He sat with Argyle, the latter wrapped in Jonathan’s jacket and blinking slowly at him. An easy grin disappeared from his lips.

“I need help.”

“With what?”

“I’m gonna burn the Creel house down.”

Eddie scoffed before looking him up and down. Something clicked. “You’re serious.”

Argyle shook his head. “No way, brochacho. I don’t want nothing to do with that. I’ll just hang here until Jon gets back.”

He shrugged and locked eyes with Eddie. “You can help me, or I’ll do it myself.”

He dragged a hand through his curls, huffing. “I just got cleared from a murder accusation. Like just got cleared.”

“So what’s arson?”

“What’s arson?!” Steve would have laughed at his outrage, but he knew he wouldn’t convince him unless he played it straight. “I don’t know, Steve, just setting a fucking house on fire!” Eddie began to pace. “I came this close to jail time, and now you want me to be an accomplice to arson? For the love of God, why?!”

“Because the city’s just gonna leave it standing, and I can’t let it torment Max and Lucas anymore.” Or me.

Eddie groaned. “You had to bring the kids into this.” He paused, turning it over in his head before letting out an exaggerated groan. “Son of a bitch. Fine.”

Steve grinned for the first time all night. “I promise you won’t regret it.”

——

Steve stayed quiet the whole drive, letting Eddie ramble. “Broke into a house, stole a camper, dealt.” He counted on his fingers. “Can’t forget paraphernalia and possession with intent to distribute. Those are very important to the courts... Are you okay?”

“What?”

“You’ve got a look on your face.”

“A look?”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “What are you, a parrot? Yes, a look. You haven’t made that face since the Upside Down.”

He shrugged. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Stevie.” It was almost a song, the way his nickname rolled off Eddie’s tongue. “I know you better than that. Something’s bothering you, and it’s not the kids, ‘cause you don’t have the ‘exasperated dad’ air about you.”

The grooves of the steering wheel dug into his hands as he swerved around the road closure sign and came to a stop. The words came out a little sharper than he intended. “I promise I’m fine. Let’s just get this over with.”

“Alright,” Eddie sighed, shaking his head. They grabbed the gear from the trunk, portioning it out and splitting up. Steve walked carefully over the boards bridging the crack in the earth and worked his way up to the house. He pushed his way through a broken window, careful not to get caught on the glass. 

Eddie stepped through the empty door. Steve caught his eyes. “Be careful.”

Eddie gave him a mock salute. “Sir, yes sir.”

He turned, opening the kerosene. The pungent aroma flooded his nose as he began to pour it along the length of the floor. The remnants of the hardwood creaked beneath his feet, and he stalked slowly along the length of the house, wary of any weak spots in the floor.

From the sound of it, Eddie was a little more haphazard in dumping the gas on the remains of the house. That felt more like the man that saved Dustin in the Upside Down than who he saw come out of the hospital, the one that leaned in with a keen observation and sarcastic comment. He was a drama queen, sure, but Steve enjoyed the theatrics. In the calm of the Rightside Up, as Joyce had called it, it never failed to bring a smile to his face.

And if he was avoiding the way something in his chest twinged whenever Eddie smirked in his general direction, well, that was his business.

They regrouped at the door. “You ready?” he asked. 

Eddie gulped and nodded.

He struck the matches, orange light dancing across his hands for just a moment before he gently tossed them inside. When the gas began to catch, they turned tail and ran for what remained of the park across the street. 

Flames began to lick up the side of the building. They watched in silence as the dark smoke billowed into the twilight. Steve flinched at the snapping and popping of the boards, too reminiscent of Nancy’s gunshots echoing around the attic. 

His stomach twisted, breaths coming short and heavy now. He could almost feel the weight coming off his shoulders, his fears drifting away with the smoke. Max didn’t ever have to face this place. 

A little while longer and it would be gone, just a charred shell and haunting memories, locked only in their heads. It had done its damage. It wouldn’t hurt anyone else.

It couldn’t. Not anymore.

Eddie’s voice cut through his thoughts. “That’s a big fucking bonfire. We should have brought marshmallows.”

Steve’s laughter turned into sobs.

He let the tears stream down his face, years of stress bubbling to the surface all at once. Would it actually be over? Would any of them ever actually be safe?

Warm arms wrapped around him. “Stevie.” He felt his name rumble in Eddie’s chest. “Shh. You’re okay. We’re okay. You’re so strong. You are the bravest person I’ve ever known.” His voice wavered. “We’re gonna get over this, baby, I’m absolutely sure of it.”

Steve pulled back with a sniff and a giggle, hands still curled in Eddie’s shirt. A rough hand cupped his cheek, and he leaned into the touch. 

Eddie’s eyes were soft in the orange light. “Eds, I…” There was so much buzzing around his brain, so much he was certain he’d never be able to put into words, so much that scared the shit out of him and thrilled him at the same time. His heart pounded. It was time to take a chance. 

His eyes fluttered closed as he pressed their lips together. It was lightning in his veins, fizzling all over his skin as Eddie pulled him closer. They moved together, almost as one for a long, joyous moment until the rush went to his head. 

He broke the kiss, resting his forehead on Eddie’s. “It is an alright bonfire.”

The laugh that rang out was all Steve would ever need.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Forbidden Lessons XXIX

Masterlist

Another (manic) monday.

Warnings: noncon, age gap, abuse of power, coercion, mentions of suicide, depression. Y'all know I do it dark and spicy. You have warnings, use them.

Thots, comments, screaming, and feedback are welcome and highly encouraged. Thank you!

As you wrap yourself in the soft towel, a gentle tap sounds against the door. You look over as Bucky cautiously edges it open. You stare as he presents you with a set of folded pajamas. Black spotted with tiny sunflowers.

"Figure you need something clean," he holds them out to you. You take them and don't let yourself be bothered by his lingering gaze.

"Thanks," you turn to place them down on the closed toilet.

He takes a breath and leaves you, once more the door is slightly ajar. You wait until you hear his departure before you dry off and dress. The loose shorts end just beneath your ass and the tee is cropped just above the elastic of the bottoms. You can't even care if it's deliberate.

You hang the towel on the back of the door and hesitate. You turn the handle gently then let it back up, flicking the lock over and trying again. It still turns, broken or altered. You unlock it and step into the hall.

"In here, sunshine," Bucky calls to you.

You follow his voice away from the front room and find him in a bedroom. The large bed is tidy, the blankets folded down in expectation. You hug yourself as you enter.

"You get cozy," he says as he searches through a dresser, "I am just gonna get a few things done before I settle down."

Quietly, you cross to the bed and climb in without argument. You just want to be still. Moving makes your mind go and you can't handle that.

You watch him reach back and tug the back of his collar, pulling the argyle over jis head awkwardly. He tosses it in the hamper and rolls up his undershirt, the scars along his left shoulder peeking around the back draw your eye. He turns slightly as he unfolds a loose grey tee, giving you a better view of the stubbed socket.

"You sure you don't want some tea? Hot chocolate?" He offers, watching for a moment before he throws the shirt over his head and tugs it down, a brief glance of his thickly muscled torso. He yanks until his brown hair pops through the hole, messy from the clumsy struggle.

"No," you hide under the blankets and cross your arms over the top.

"You need your sleep," he says, "I get it. We'll figure everything out tomorrow."

You shrug. You wonder what he means yet can't bring yourself to care that much.

You roll over so your back is to him and pull the duvet higher. He sighs and his footsteps softly pad close to the bed. You feel the heat of his observation. You close your eyes.

"Sleep tight, sunshine, I'll be back to check on you soon," he promises.

You listen as he leaves the room, the lights dimming as a soft glow flows in through the open door. He goes down the hall and you hear him in the bathroom. He returns and dumps a heap in the hamper, your clothes. You hope he didn't notice the stains.

He goes out again, shutting off the bathroom light and continuing down the hall. You try not to focus on his activity. Your heavy head sinks into the pillow and you bring your arm up to shield your eyes, curling it around your head.

He's back again, careful steps as he approaches the bed. A zipper parts in a metallic whisper and the blanket behind you lifts, letting in cool air. The bed dips and he groans as he lays back in the darkness.

You don't move, hoping that will keep you safe, like he says he will. You don't believe him, he can't, no one can.

"Good night," he says. You let it dangle and don't answer.

Your cheeks are once more wet with tears as they seep into the pillow. You try to obscure the racking of your body as your own voice echoes in your head, calling to your mother, begging him for mercy.

💙

You succumb to sleep without knowing it. Not until you wake up disoriented, head and lungs thick with the hangover of your weeping.

The morning light shines in slats across the joint of the wall and ceiling. You exhale and grumble as you search for a sliver of strength.

"Sunshine?" Bucky beckons softly from the doorway, only then do you recall how he laid down beside you the night before. Ir even where you are.

You sit up and swallow through your dry throat. He balances a wooden tray against his middle, clinging to it with one hand.

"I made you breakfast," he announces proudly, moving cautiously with his armful towards you. He carefully angles the legs of the tray over your lap as you help him stabilise it, "you should eat."

You nod and don't argue. You ignore the waffles and reach for the orange juice, gulping it down greedily. He stands, watching, waiting.

You put the glass down and peek up at him, "thank you."

"No problem," he says lightly, his hand on his hip declares otherwise. You're not acting how he wants. How else can you be with all that's happened? "So, I have to go to the grocery store, I've been a bit negligent and wasn't expecting… well, you know things have just kinda happened."

You nod at him dumbly. If it gets you space, then you won't protest. You just want a moment to yourself, a minute to see through the fog. With him around, you just keep bracing for the worst.

"I won't be gone long, alright? Do you think you can handle that? Maybe you want to come?"

You shake your head. He chews his lip as he considers your response, "well, I've made sure you can't do anything drastic while I'm gone. I know that's a lot but you've been quiet. Until I know what's happened, I just can't trust you."

"Fine," you huff and take the mug of coffee, still thirsty.

He tisks, "aren't you going to eat?"

"Mhmm," you hum over the brim of the coffee.

He stares a little linger before checking his watch, "right, well, you know where the bathroom is, the kitchen's straight through the front room in case you need anything else."

You put the cup down, "thank you," you force out, a pitiful appeasal.

"Love you, sunshine," he smiles and reaches to caress your temple. You go rigid, resisting a wince. He drops his hand with a disappointed huff, "well, I'll go."

"Bye," you squeak and take the fork, the waffles already cut.

He marches out, shoulders tense and squared. You know he wants more than what you're giving but you have nothing left. You poke into the fluffy waffle as you hear his keys and put it in your mouth as the door marks his departure with the twist of the latch.

The syrup flips your stomach in an instant. You drop the fork and lift the tray, shoving it away from your legs as you scramble to your feet. You spit out the mouthful into your hand as you stagger to the door.

Your stomach flips as you enter the bathroom and quickly swing up the lid of the toilet. Bile ripples up and you hurl into the bowl. The tingles and pangs of the previous night returning and reminding you of the terror.

You rest your hand against the tank and shudder as you spit up the last of your sore stomach. You heave as you pull blindly on the lever and flush. Bucky may have some things to pick up, so do you. Something you can't ask him for.

[ladymunson]

Hello all, welcome to my blog. I’m Sam (she/her) I’m an aspiring writer, based in London, UK 🇬🇧

I also have my own baking business called Bee’s Treats, follow @beestreatsldn on Instagram for details.

I write about; Eddie Munson, Bucky Barnes, Joel Miller, Steve Harrington and Andy Barber. I’m willing to try for other characters if requested.

Feel free to send me a DM or ask if you have any requests or comments, or even just for a chat. I’m always open to making new friends

I am neurodivergent and sometimes it’s a while between my posts as I can’t always focus to write; but I promise I will finish stories once my mean mean brain allows me to.

This blog is a safe space for all

Minors be gone! My fics are 18+

Here is my Masterlist with all my current fics and blurbs included, I hope you enjoy!

Feel free to share.

Click here to fill out my taglist application

💕 Fluff

🔥 Smut

🥀 Angst

💀 Horror

🎭 Drama

Read my Fic Recs list here

Series

Love Ain’t No Stranger - (complete)

🥀 🔥 💕

You and your friends spend most of your days, with everything nerdy. You’re the only girl in the group, but they never treat you differently. That is until prom comes around and Eddie starts feeling strange when you’re asked to prom by someone that isn’t him. Could Eddie be jealous?

Long Way Home- (Ongoing)🥀 💀

After Eddie’s battle with the demobats, his injuries are severe and the gang needs help. As Dustin’s ex-babysitter, and a studying nurse they bring him to you. Can you save him? And will Eddie escape Henry’s grasp and find his way back to you?

In My Dreams- (complete)🥀💀💕🔥

Your parents have an issue with you dating the town “freak” Eddie Munson, so they force you apart but you and Eddie can’t stop thinking about each other. You’re invading each others dreams so maybe it’s not just a “silly crush” like your parents think.

One Shots

Is This Love?- (complete)🔥 💕

Eddie’s band Corroded Coffin is playing a gig at the Metro Club in Chicago, Illinois. You’ve been a fan since you saw them perform at your middle school talent show, around that time you’d developed your crush on Eddie. Unbeknownst to you, Eddie had also been harbouring a secret crush on you for years. Will he finally shoot his shot?

Tragic Comic- (complete)🥀 🔥 💕

You and Eddie have been best friends for years, lately you feel like something is bothering him. When an unexpected visitor arrives in Hawkins to take advantage of Eddie, he finds out you’ve got his back after you stand up for him.

You - (coming soon)🥀 🔥 💕

You and Eddie have been friends for years, both being outcasts and neither having much family, you instantly clicked. Now however, feelings have developed, on your part anyway. When Eddie leaves you alone in his trailer to make a deal, you grab ahold of his guitar and pour your feelings out in a song.

Drabbles/Blurbs/Imagines/HCs

Sleeping Trouble- (posted)💕

You get awoken in the middle of the night by your silly affection starved boyfriend.

This is Halloween- (posted)💕

It’s almost your favourite time of year, which also happens to be your birthday. Eddie wants to know… trick or treat?

Foreclosure- (coming soon)

One shots

The Secret (posted)🔥

You’re having a nice summer’s day relaxing in the park with your friends; Nancy, Robin, Steve, Jonathan and Argyle. And there’s some sexual tension between you and Steve. Especially after he sees you in that sundress.

The Boss- (Complete)🔥💕

Mile High- (complete)🔥

The Assistant (On hiatus)🔥🎭

You move into a new neighbourhood to discover you have a very hot guy next door; some innocent watching turns into something more, then you discover something about him that could put your new job in jeopardy.

One 🥀 🔥

Bucky struggles with his feelings toward you, which he hides by pretending he doesn’t trust you. You get placed on a mission together where trust is essential.

Perfect- (posted)🔥💕

Reader and Joel Miller have been friends for quite a long time, but been apart due to moving away. They finally reconnect after a year apart when one surprises the other with a unscheduled visit. Their reunion goes way different than either of them anticipated.

The Train- (posted)

Blind Date -(cancelled)

Dividers and headers made by me

All links are fixed!!

Feel free to send messages and asks, I love talking to y’all.

REQUESTS OPEN

[777cherry-blossom777]

More headcsnons bc I’m sick and I can’t be bothered to do school work.

Stranger Things on a Road Trip (part 1)

Car assignments (on the way there):

1. Eddie’s van- Eddie, Steve, Dustin, Lucas, the clothes

2. Nancy’s car- Nancy, Robin, Max, El, Erica (girls trip)

3. Argyle’s van- Argyle, Jonathan, Will, Mike

Car assignments (on the way back):

1. Eddie’s van- Eddie, Steve, Erica, Dustin, the clothes

2. Nancy’s car- Max, Lucas, Nancy, Robin

3. Argyle’s van- Argyle, Jonathan, El, Will, Mike

Seating assignments on the way there:

Eddie’s van- Eddie and Steve switch out driving and shotgun, Dustin has to sit on the left or he gets carsick

Nancy’s car- Nancy drives, Robin gets shotgun, Max goes in between El and Erica

Argyle’s van- Argyles drives, Jonathan gets shotgun, Will goes on the seat diagonally behind Jonathan so that he can check up on him

Seating assignments on the way back:

Eddie’s van- Steve drives the whole time (he learnt his lesson), Eddie sits shotgun, Dustin in the left seat

Nancy’s car- Nancy drives, Robin gets shotgun, Max and Lucas sit next to each other in the back

Argyle’s van- Argyle drives, Steve sits shotgun, Will sits in between El and Mike

What they do while driving:

Nancy’s car- On the way there the girl’s car is literally the best place to be. They all agreed on the music choices and got together a few days before to make a mixtape, Max and Erica teach El about feminism, the three girls in the back start a braid train (with El at the back), plus Nancy and Robin packed the best snacks. They sing along to the songs on the mixtape and just generally have loads of fun.

Nancy’s car- Robin and Nancy mostly talk really quietly to each other because Max is sleeping on Lucas’ shoulder. But when Lumax is awake they’re usually playing truth or dare. Lucas did bring cards though and Robin, Lucas, and Max all play bullshit (obviously Max wins). Nancy has some deep discussions with Lucas while Robin and Max are asleep about how Max is doing etc. It’s very chill, not as fun as the way there, but definitely happy.

Eddie’s van on the way there- it is messy as hell in there but that means that they’re allowed to make mess. Steve made sure they packed lots of food so they’re all set in the department. They play spotto and other dumb road trip games and argue over the music a lot. Dustin and Lucas play cards at one point and Lucas wins (Dustin insists he cheated). Lucas, Dustin, and Eddie all get into a D&D argument and steve loudly declares that they’re playing the silent game and the winner gets chocolate.

Eddie’s van on the way back- they argue about the music again but Erica just makes them play whatever she wants. They all talk about D&D until Steve gets so confused Eddie takes pity on him and starts a conversation about the teachers at Hawkins High.

Argyle’s van on the way there- both Jonathan and Argyle are really high and don’t really talk much to Will and Mike. Argyle let’s Jonathan pick the music and Will has the same music taste so everyone is pretty chill with it. Will and Mike kiss when they’re sure Jonathan isn’t watching and are absolutely ok to come up with their own conversations. However Argyle and Jonathan did not pack good food and they’re all very hungry.

Argyle’s van on the way back- the food situation is better because the got some off Steve, but Jonathan and Argyle are still very high. El, Will, and Mike have loads of fun just talking and sometimes playing games. Once again, very chill.

[bylersheart]

i noticed all this a while ago and it’s been bothering me almost every day since, but since tumblr has started talking about coke and pepsi imagery in stranger things, i figured it’s finally time i bring my twitter thoughts over here. it started with these two photos:

as you can see, surfer boy pizza has both coke AND pepsi logos featured in the lenora and nevada locations (not pictured: a coke soda fountain in the lenora location before argyle picks up the phone, much like the one on the left of the second picture, but if you rewatch the scene you’ll see it).

now, this is very weird to me, because idk about you, but i’ve NEVER been to a restaurant/food establishment that sells both coke and pepsi products. it’s always one or the other (from asking around i’ve gathered that some places DO carry both, but it’s still very rare, especially in the US.)

one specific pepsi product we see featured alongside SBP is 7up:

considering they’re traveling in a pizza delivery truck, i think it’s safe to assume the 7up is from SBP and wasn’t just brought along by mike, meaning SBP had to have been selling it among other pepsi products.

speaking of pepsi, back to the pepsi clock behind argyle. now where have we seen a coke clock before in stranger things?

OH, IN JUST THE EPISODE PRIOR!

honestly if this wasn’t a thing i could’ve just dismissed all this as a plot hole for product placement purposes, but tell me WHY as a set designer would you choose to put a pepsi clock in a restaurant that features coke when you also have a coke clock at your disposal?? especially when SBP isn’t the only place we see pepsi logos in s4, so it wouldn’t have been a huge loss.

mlvn/coke imagery and its potential meaning has been talked about before so i won’t delve into it, but i think it’s worth noting here that that’s probably why we see this in el’s room during this scene.

what i will say though is pepsi is definitely associated with byler, not only with the 7up in the desert scene, but in the fact that will and mike are the ones to convince one of the agents to call SBP, which is where we get a full frontal view of pepsi as seen above.

anywaysssss, interpret/add to this how you will :)

[al-ien-pan-ic]

Steddie Fics

Since I read a lot of Steddie fics in the past month here’s a list of every fic I gave 10/10 stars. Every fic in this list is finnished and available on AO3. The first three are my all time favorites, especially Not so bad since it brought me into reading english fics.

Not so bad by outofmygourd

Mature / 9 chapter / 43k words

Autors Summary: Vecna is dead. It's the summer after the party's freshman year. Steve Harrington spends it in the Family Video Store, and Eddie Munson is spending post-graduate life bothering him. And maybe Steve isn't as bothered as he used to be.

Keep it steady, Eddie by outofmygourd

Explicit / 16 chapter / nearly 105k words

Autors Summary: Eddie Munson doesn't mind working at the Family Video Store. It's a nice sense of normalcy (not to mention money) and he gets to see Robin more because of it. However, between working together and sharing the same best friend, he's also been seeing a lot more of Steve Harrington. He wants nothing more than to enjoy mindless fun with his friends now that everything with Vecna is over, but Eddie's finding it hard to move on from what happened. Even if the strangest thing in his life right now was simply the fact he and Steve Harrington might actually be friends.

sub-culture by palmviolet

Teen And Up Audiences / 13 chapter / nearly 61k words

Autors Summary: “Is he whining about Eddie being mean to him again?” Robin is leaning in the doorway, eating a leftover slice that’s probably cold by now. “You talk about him more than you talk about girls, Steve, it’s getting concerning. Anyone would think you had a crush.”

or, steve is pretty convinced eddie now hates him. turns out eddie has the opposite problem.

three thousand miles don't help by judypoovey

Teen And Up Audiences / 17 chapter / nearly 24k words

Autors Summary: After surviving Vecna and, more importantly, graduating high school, Eddie moves in with Steve and Robin. Needing a source of income, he and Steve decide to drive to California to buy weed from Argyle to bring back to Hawkins.

It's a perfectly good scheme, but things might not be all good in Hawkins by the time they get back.

Fade into you by annabeeus

Mature / 5 chapter / 52k words

Autors Summary: Steve Harrington doesn't need help. He just needs to get through this summer without completely falling apart. Unfortunately, it seems like Eddie Munson has other ideas.

(or: the one where they fall in love with each other, bit by little bit)

Drowning by elyzaapple

Explicit / oneshot / 14k words

Autors Summary: Steve has had a stressful few years, to say the least. He's pretty good at holding himself together, until he's not. Along comes Eddie Munson to pick up the pieces.

Of Kings and Cult-Leaders by ladyofthenorthernlights

General Audiences / oneshot / nearly 12k words

Autors Summary: “Why can’t you just do it in the Wheeler’s basement?” Steve asked for the third time.

"It’s too cramped for everyone,” Dustin insisted. “Come on, Steve. Eddie has been working on this campaign for nearly a month! We just need your dining-room for a few hours. Please.”

Or: Dustin convinces Steve to host Eddie's latest D&D campaign.

This Fever Started Long Ago by wastedonyoursmile

Explicit / oneshot / 9655 words

Autors Summary: Eddie and Steve bump into each other at Woodstock in '94 and quickly realize that they're not as over the past as they thought. Five years later and they're both still hung up on the "kiss" they shared the night Eddie skipped town.

The Quiet of After by m_g_k_1606

Teen And Up Audiences / oneshot / 8095 words

Autors Summary: Grimacing, Eddie apologised in his head to Steve, before pouring the hydrogen peroxide over the cuts scattering Steve’s torso, the latter groaning slightly in his sleep.

“Yeah man- shit I know, I’m sorry. It’s gotta be done though Harrington, nearly there.”

These Dreams by IntoTheStardust

Explicit / oneshot / 3577 words

Autors Summary: Steve has only recently come to the realization that he has a thing for Eddie. He definitely doesn't expect a trip to San Diego to throw him headfirst into something more, but the universe has other ideas.

[sweet-villain]

Dancing On My Own~ J.B

Anonymous asked:

Can I request a Jonathan fic thingy where the reader best friends with Argyle but doesn't really like Jonathan and can't put her finger on why she just doesn't. Argyle is sick of the bickering between the two because it's messing with his high so decides to do some investigating and finds out the reader secretly has a crush on Jonathan. Going to confront the reader with this information the reader confirms it by screaming "Well of course I do but I can't because he has a girlfriend" not realizing Jonathan was behind her

@woahlifehitsyahuh @cinemaquinn @pleasantlycrazyworld. @moonchildquinn @haileighboi @ceriseheaven @harringtons-cupid

His presence irked you as he sat across from you chewing on his food scraping the spoon against the bowl. He wasn't doing just for the giggles on his own but he was doing it to make you snap. The two of you despised each other, but you two had no reason to hate each other. You both never found one. It was just fun seeing each other reactions.

But it did bother, Argyle. He had to watch the two of you go back and forth acting children.

" Could you pass me that orange thing?" Jonathan says pointing across the table not bothering to even look at what he's pointing at.

" Orange thing? Man, that's not even orange or is it?" Argyle lifted it up with his hands as he squinted his eyes inspecting the thing he was holding. You on the other hand snickered watching him confuse himself with orange juice in his hands.

Jonathan wiggled his fingers around in hopes that Argyle would hand him what he wanted but instead Argyle tried to read what was on it. His eyes were wide while Jonathan dropped his spoon as he reached for something else from across the table, his hand brushed against yours since you were reaching for the same thing.

" Relax, would you?" Jonathan says. " I don't have any cooties" he rolls his eyes. " You look like you seen a ghost or something" he mumbles.

Your face was scrunched up but in reality your heart was beating against your rib cage feeling the goosebumps, hiding your hands underneath the table from both of them before they notice.

" Just eat your food, Byers" you grumbled standing up to take your plate to the sink. You turned on the water to wash the dishes, closing your eyes for a moment letting it heat up.

Jonathan Byers. He irked underneath your skin. He was loud around you and do everything he could to bother you. He knew what to say to get under your skin but yet you looked at him as if he could give you the world. He was the only guy that gave you the attention you wanted, except it was hate. You hated him.

Everything coming out of his mouth was only filing you up with anger. But you saw him in a different light, you wanted to grab his face and plant one on him to shut him up. But there was two problems, you hated him and he had a girlfriend.

Nancy Wheeler.

She was back in Hawkins, Indiana while he was here in California spending his time with Argyle and making sure to make your life miserable at the same time.

" Are you going to let the sink fill up or do you want to flood the kitchen?" a voice brought you out of your thoughts as you turn to reach to turn off the water when another hand stopped it. Your breath hitched knowing who's hand that was.

" You should pay more attention on what your doing instead of being distracted. God knows what might happen, you might burn the house down" Jonathan mumbles as he turns off the water. His breath fanned against your ear causing a shiver to go down your arms. He hadn't notched the way you froze in your spot.

He doesn't know how you feel and you wanted to keep it that way.

" You both have me stressed out, you two are something else I tell you, man" Argyle brings both of your attention to him as he rubs his forehead.

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧

You just came from a long day of work settling on the couch and kicking your feet on top of the table not really caring if Argyle was going to come in and smack your feet away any minute. Another body plopped down besides you as you flipped through the channels, not really bothering to look who it was.

You didn't even blink when the remote from your hands was snatched.

" Hey!" you turned your body to yell at the person, rolling your eyes as Jonathan was the one who took the remote. Figures. Who else could it be?

" I was using the remote" you gritted your teeth reaching over to take the remote away from him when he pulled it out of your reach. He had the biggest smirk on his face seeing you fail to reach for it.

" Not trying hard enough little girl" he teased wiggling in front of your face but pulled it away as soon as your hands reached for it. " Too slow" he chuckled, flipping through channels.

You huffed putting your arms across your chest.

" I hate you" you mumbled underneath your breathe. Jonathan turned his head with an eyebrow raised, " is that suppose to hurt me or something? I hate you too, little girl"

" I am not little!" you snatched the remote from him with ease, standing up dancing around with it that you won. You hadn't noticed the look on his face as he watched you, there was a small smile on his face but it was gone as he heard the door open.

He snatched the remote back from your hands as he plopped back down on the couch.

" Byers! Give me the damn remote" this time Jonathan stood up making his way around the couch. " You want it? Come get it" he says running off with it down the hall. You huffed chasing him, passing by Argyle as he watched in amusement.

He was getting tired of you and Jonathan doing this, it annoyed him. Why couldn't the two of just be civil for once? He just wants a moment for himself without hearing you call Jonathan's name or something else coming from Jonathan.

" Give it to me now!" he hears you yell, he pinches the bridge of his nose sighing, almost losing his balance as Jonathan runs past him this time almost knocking into him.

" My dudes, you almost knocked into me"

You and Jonathan apologized at the same time.

" Oh shut up!" you pointed at him.

" No, you shut up!" he pointed at you.

This was never going to end. Argyle opened the fridge only to be pushed against it.

" My dudes!"

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧

You passed by Jonathan's room hearing music behind the door, it happened to be one of your favorites playing. You leaned your ear against the door listening to the words when the door suddenly opens revealing Jonathan.

He gives you a look passing by you without saying anything to you. The room was messy with clothes on the floor and the bed unmade, the blinds were shut and there was only little light coming from the room.

You can smell the weed coming from the room. Argyle always gave the best stuff to his friends.

" Are you going to oogle about my room or are you going to help with dinner?" Jonathan shouted from the kitchen. He had been smoking more weed than usual, missing Nancy talking to Argyle about her and how much he wanted to see her.

Every time he talked about her, it was like a knife dug into your heart. Why would Jonathan think anything else of you? He hated you as much as you hated him. But you were confused. You watched how he was with Will, embracing him in his arms telling he was there for Will.

You had met Will too, talking to him about his friends in Hawkins while El was here with him. You knew of his feelings for his friend Mike, and how much he was hurting.

Jonathan saw you talk to Will and Will mention to him how you made him feel safe and wanted. Jonathan took that to heart as he watched you interact with his brother. Something in his stuck when he catches you hanging out with his brother.

He knows you care but he doesn't understand why out of everyone, you hated him and argued with him.

" No, I'm coming. Hold onto your-" you were cut off with Argyle finishing the sentence for you" Hold on your butts, Brocachos" he was trying to light then mood between you and Jonathan but it didn't seem to work as you quietly worked around the kitchen.

One thing that Argyle made you both promised that in the kitchen you both helped out to make dinner. You did most of the cooking when Jonathan was too baked to help as he giggled and mispronounced the wrong items throwing them into the pans and on the table.

It was the only time you would giggle around him. The sound always made Jonathan stop and watch you for a moment. It's not something he is used to hearing from a girl.

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧

" This spaghetti and meatballs are shamakin’, my dude" Argyle pointed with his fork to the food you cooked up with the help of Jonathan.

" Thank you" you sent him a small smile as Jonathan continued to eat like you weren't there. Things were being less and less talkative around the two of you, things were off to Argyle liking. He had heard less of you two argue and it worried him.

After dinner was done, Argyle was helping you clean up when he decided to ask.

" Why do you hate him so much, my dude?" he pointed to the door where Jonathan was in. You shrugged putting the plates into the sink to wash.

" Come on, you're my friend, Y/N. I'm not going to tell him" you simply didn't answer him. You wouldn't date to tell Argyle how you felt about Jonathan.

You were scared that if you told Argyle that he would rush to tell Jonathan and you would have no where to go.

Argyle gave up after he helped you clean up watching you shut down in front of him and it worried him somewhere. He stepped back a couple steps to see if you would question where he was going. He eyed Jonathan's closed door and down the hall where your room was.

He was. going to figure it out through the things in your room. He knows it's not nice to snoop around in your room but this had to end. He ended to know why you were like this with Jonathan. What caused you to hate him?

Argyle tipped into your room, closing the door that if he knocked into anything you wouldn't come rushing to catch him. It didn't take long for him to find out what he needed, it was right there with the words " Dear Diary" on it.

He sat on the edge of your bed as he opened it, his fingers brushing over the pages until his eyes spotted his friends name. His eye grew wide as he came to realization why you were like that with Jonathan.

You didn't hate Jonathan. You liked Jonathan, more than a friend. But he frowned knowing you wouldn't be able to be with him because he was with Nancy.

He set the diary back into his place and headed out the door before you caught him. You were just rounding the corner wiping your hands on your jeans when you noticed him closing your door.

" Why were you in my room?" Argyle's eyes grew wide as he turned to face you, panic shown in his eyes.

" My dude, I was looking if you had that mix tape that I let you have" he scratched the top of his head, slapping himself in the head mentally for not thinking of a better excuse.

" Oh!" you fished it out of your pocket and handing it to him. " Next time don't go snooping, just ask. Okay?" he nods as he hurries to his room closing the door with his back to it.

That was a close one, he thinks.

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧

Argyle was having trouble how to approach on this matter about Jonathan. He had been too quiet all day and it bothered you and Jonathan. Jonathan had already asked him if something was going on or something was wrong. Argyle brushed him off saying he needed to smoke some good weed and he was out of it.

He wasn't really out of it, he needed some sort of excuse to brush off Jonathan as much as he didn't want to. It was really hard for him to keep himself quiet from finding out the information he knows.

He cleared his throat once you walked through the door over looking the mail in your hands, lifting your head up with your eyebrows knitted.

" What is it?" you asked him seeing the way he bounced on his foot, the way his eyebrows crinkled together and the way he kept opening and closing his mouth.

" Argyle? Spit it out" he swallowed the lump in his throat.

" When were you gong to tell me you liked him, my dude?" all the color flushed from your face as you blinked. How did he know this?

" Argyle.." you started to say as warning on how he knows. He threw his hands up in the air, " You wouldn't tell me what's been going on with you and I got worried, so I went to your room to find out.."

A frown appears on your lips eyeing him, sighing dropping the mail on the table and one hand rubbed your forehead.

" I was never going to tell anyone, I can't. He has a girlfriend, and he hates me. My feelings don't ever matter"

" What feelings?" you heard a familiar voice as he stepped out from the hall. Jonathan stood there with his hands in his pockets as he eyed you and then Argyle. " What's going on?"

Argyle sent you a look seeing if you were going to tell Jonathan, if this secret of your was ready to be out in the open. You sighed to yourself.

" Look you weren't suppose to find out this way or ever.." Jonathan nodded as you continued. " I like you, Jonathan" his eyebrows knitted together in confusion. " You hate me.." is all he says.

" I don't, you jus annoy me sometimes. I do know that I feel something for you, and it's not hate. But I can't because you have a girlfriend while I am some dumb girl living with you two" you motion towards him and Argyle.

" I am not special or anything" you felt the tears brim. your eyes. " I-I can't do this.." you brushed past Jonathan to your room, slamming the door shut as you slide down the door with your knees to your chest as you sobbed.

He was never suppose to find out.

Jonathan stood on his spot, it hadn't not fully register that you have feelings for him. You like him. You like him. You really like him. His mind raced thinking the possibilities would be if he ended things with Nancy and gave you a chance.

No, he couldn't do that to Nancy.

" What are you going to do, man?" Argyle asked him. He shrugged, " I don't know. I really don't know" he felt his own heart crack thinking about it.

What was he going to do? He looks at your closed door and to the front door of the house.

He had two options, to see Nancy or go to your door to talk to you. He couldn't decided feeling his heart in two. He enjoyed the moments he has with you, teasing you, poking at you causing all the reactions out of you. Your giggle and your laugher isn't like Nancy's.

It's new, he likes it a lot. But he loves Nancy.

What was he suppose to do?

[greatunironic]

So you've said you're open to prompts, and now I can't stop wanting more 'The Most Remarkable Thing' content... I am DESPERATE for late 80s/early 90s Eddie starting to make it as a respected local musician in the Seattle Grunge scene and how he navigated it all (And Steve and the crew's reaction when he started to make it big) But like.. Eddie meeting his band, Eddie meeting other Seattle musicians we know and love (Dave Grohl's party, wassup).. Even darker stuff? Like Eddie and the Seattle scene navigating something like Mia Zapata's murder (Eddie's PTSD would say hello here again I bet)... But yeah, the whole scene is so fascinating, and I'd just really love to know more about Eddie (or Ed) finding his feet there and then finding himself amongst it all, a bit <3

in remarkable, mike and el get married in the summer of ‘93, early july. it’s obviously a whole thing — i think it’s the first big family get together since the kids all graduated high school in ‘89 and steve was the last one to move out of hawkins. there have been get togethers and family dinners and they throw eddie an album release party, the party plus robin and steve crashing at eddie’s tiny seattle one bedroom. but eddie’s been touring almost nonstop since Girl dropped + the shotguns actually just did their first european tour in ‘92 after METALHEAD is released, and hopper’s been cancer free for a year now — so this wedding is a big fucking deal. eddie wouldn’t have missed it for the world.

(more under a cut because this for out of hand)

so everyone is in indiana, at hopper and joyce’s, and eddie was almost the last to get there but he got there, uncle wayne picking him up at the airport and giving him shit about not bringing a suit and making him stop somewhere before they can get to the farm. it’s a beautiful ceremony, officiated by a local priest whose name no one can remember after, and they throw a dope ass party for the pair of them. jonathan and nancy had eloped, and hopper and joyce had a tiny church wedding back in ‘87; but it feels like this is the first big wedding for the group, the first big life event for all of them, and as it happens: everyone gets crunk.

(max’s chair lift gets a lot of action this weekend, let’s just say.)

they get married in the evening, on a friday, the 9th. the party goes strong well into the early hours of the next morning, and at around three am — while mile and el are slow dancing to the radio in the kitchen, and the rest of the party are smoking eddie’s weed in the yet unremodeled dairy parlor with jonathan and argyle, and joyce, robin, and nancy are wine drunk on the porch and talking shit about robin’s neighbors in boston — eddie’s hanging out with hopper, enzo, murray, and uncle wayne in hopper’s study — the four older men are getting blasted, playing some allegedly russian drinking game that involves taking a shot, crawling under a table, and then taking another shot and repeating the whole thing. hopper’s like “oh yeah i played this back before i adopted el, only it was called depressive alcoholism back then.”

so they’re fucking wall-eyed and steve’s there too, only he can’t drink on account of him nearly cutting off his own thumb four days prior when he, hopper, and jonathan were building the pergola for the wedding. it doesn’t seem to bother steve, who’s been moving between groups to make sure people drink water and eat slices of plain bread. 

hopper, to eddie’s absolute delight, gets increasingly handsy whilst in his cups and he keeps grabbing steve and hugging him, ruffling his hair, sitting him on his lap and being like “my boy’s thinking about getting his masters next year” and otherwise just being like a total drunken mess of a proud father in between crying about el leaving him. steve rolls his eyes but blushes, and eddie —

listen. it’s been something like seven years since steve carried eddie out of the upside down; it’s been seven years since eddie got wrapped up in that shit, and it’s been seven years since it was over; it’s been seven years since eddie lost his kidney and his heart in practically one evening. and it’s fine! it’s great! eddie’s written two albums (and one got him to the fucking grammy’s, thanks), and he’s working on a third and it’s been seven years and he’s made his peace with the fact that steve harrington is probably the one great love of his life. 

nights like these are just — hard.

eddie knew that, going in. he steeled himself in on the plane ride in, then the drive, and every single morning in the bathroom mirror since, and he’s doing a great job, he’s holding it together and fuck it he’ll probably get some good lyrics out of this at least. it’s only when the light catches steve’s blush so, when he rolls his eyes and mouths “help me” to eddie, when he smiles, pleased and shy, and eddie thinks he’s the only one who notices —

his pager buzzes. it’s wanjeri, he sees, when he checks it — CALL ME, all caps, nothing else — and he thinks about ignoring her for a moment. but wanjeri doesn’t page unless she truly needs to, and it’s getting close to her due date, so maybe she needs him to smack around alejandro for a bit. 

he excuses himself to the hallway to use the phone there. he begins to dial, says “hey it’s me what’s up,” when she picks up. 

from outside, he can hear nancy hysterically laughing while robin is shouting, also laughing, “am i a fucking liar, nancy? am i? they’re two halves of the same idiot,” which frankly could be about anyone, and enzo and murray are arguing in russian from the office while hopper and wayne giggle like little kids. 

it’s midnight in seattle, and wanjeri has to repeat herself three times before eddie realizes what she’s saying, “mia zapata was murdered.”

the next five minutes pass in a blur — mia’s dead, don’t know who did it, funeral arrangements, wanjeri crying and alejandro’s soothing voice taking up the phone, telling eddie to take care, they’ll see him soon — and then eddie is somehow in the second floor guest bath, his back rammed up against the bathtub, his hands tangled in his hair. in the back of his mind, he can hear bones snapping. he wants to scream. he thinks he might be having a heart attack.

the door opens and closes and eddie looks up through blurry eyes to see steve crouched in front of him, his pretty face creased in concern. what, he wants to snap, what.

“hey,” he says. “eddie, i think you’re having a panic attack. but i’m right here, okay. do you think you could try to match my breathing for a bit?”

he watches through a haze as steve breathes slowly in and out, and eventually eddie is, in fact, breathing with him. steve smiles gently, says, “that’s great, man, great job. do you need anything? can i get you anything?”

“i just wanna sit here for a sec,” eddie says. his voice is hoarse, like he’s been screaming. shit, he hopes he hasn’t been screaming.

“cool,” steve is saying. he moves so he’s next to eddie, backs against the tub. he listens to his even breathing, still modeling for him to match, and after forever, steve asks, “wanna talk about it?”

“not really.”

“okay.”

eddie’s eyes burn, so he squeezes them shut. still, he can feel tears start to roll down his cheeks. steve’s hand presses up against his and eddie says, “a friend of mine was murdered.”

“shit, man.”

“yeah.” eddie scrubs the hand not touching steve’s across his face. “wanjeri knew her better. we just — we ran in the same circles, the same crowd. we opened for her band once, back when we first got started. she was nice. but i can’t remember the last time i actually talked to her and — does it make me a bad person if — if —“

“if what?”

“the whole time wanjeri was telling me, i couldn’t even picture mia’s face. i only saw chrissy.” steve’s fingers intertwine with his and eddie whispers, “i only ever see chrissy.”

eddie starts sobbing, quietly, and steve just holds his hand through it, doesn’t say a word. 

but eventually he cries himself out until the only sound in the bathroom is his uneven breaths. steve still hasn’t let go of his hand and eddie tells him, “wanjeri says they’re gonna bury her back home in kentucky next weekend.”

“do you want me to come with you?” asks steve.

“what?” asks eddie.

“do you want me to come with you?” he asks again. “to kentucky. i could drive you?”

“steve,” he says. he wants to cry again.

“you shouldn’t have to be alone,” steve says. there’s a part of eddie — tiny, beaten down and locked away — that wants to think he means something else entirely, but he can’t — he can’t.

“that’s okay,” eddie says. “wanjeri will be there, and the guys.”

he can feel steve’s eyes on the side of his face, searching, so he adds, “do you mind if we just sit here for a little bit longer?”

“no man,” he says. “i don’t mind at all.”

they watch the sun rise from the bathroom, and when robin comes knocking with a vicious hangover at eight am, they’re still holding hands. they never talk about it.

[musicalchaos07]

An INCREDIBLY late WIP Wednesday

Jonathan shouldn't follow Nancy, it's wrong, weird and he’s pretty sure it’s criminal. He keeps trying to justify it, that he's just going to be helpful in case she runs into any trouble. But he knows that if she catches him, he’ll be in the wrong here. Then again, that would require him to catch her because as it turns out Nancy is very fast. He only left the school about five minutes after she did and he almost lost her already. Admittedly, it’s difficult in the rain but the bigger part of that is his own fault for not suiting up. But he figures it’s better for him to get caught by in her plain clothes than for Spiderman to get caught. Nancy nearly slips off the curb in the rain and he holds himself back from rushing to help her. To her credit, her near fall doesn’t affect her determination in the slightest she continues along her walk like nothing’s happened. It’s admirable, she’s admirable and he’s already in too deep. The signal changes just as he reaches the curb and he mumbles out a curse under his breath. He feels a sudden buzz from his pocket and takes his phone out to check who it is. He doesn’t recognize the number so he declines. But then they call again, and again and again. The fifth time he finally caves and swipes up. 

“What?” he spits into the phone.

“Jeez Byers can’t even say hello" Steve nags

“Steve?” he guesses, shifting his phone 

“The one and only" he quips

“Sorry” he mumbles 

“You owe me big time” Steve taunts 

“For what?” he demands back

“The girl Natalie or whatever” Steve clarifies

“Nancy” he corrects, just as she crosses another street. 

“Yea that’s what I said so anyways I’m thinking as payback you come to this boring charity thing I have to go to tomorrow.” Steve informs

“Since when do you go to charity events?” he scoffs

“Hey I went to all of your birthday parties growing up" Steve jokes 

“I really don’t have time for this" he snarks back

“Hey c’mon I’m kidding look you can bring Naomi" he offers 

“Nancy" he corrects again, astounded and a little angry that Steve can’t be bothered to remember her name. 

“Whatever you can bring her and we’ll hang out” he resolves. 

He wonders if this is just some sort of punishment for canceling the Hamptons Spring Break plans this morning. He hadn’t even called he just sent a halfhearted text that he has to work. Then Steve, confusing as ever, told him it was cool and asked him for Argyle’s number. Which he gladly gave, it must be part of some grand plan to get buddy-buddy with his roommate in order to convince him to go. As if their growing distance can be lessened by sharing a couple of joints in Montauk. 

“Why do you want me to go so bad?” he asks, thinking of the last time he actually saw Steve on Halloween. 

“Fel thinks it’ll be good for my image” Steve explains casually, as though he shed any light on the situation. 

“Fel?” Jonathan asks again

“Yea my publicist” he scoffs, like Jonathan’s question was stupid.

“You have a publicist?” he chuckles back in shock. 

“A lot of things can change in six months" Steve says clearing his throat. 

Jonathan wonders if Steve intended on making him feel even worse for everything’s that happened. Or if it’s just a consequence of his own actions. He lets the words linger, before making a decision. But he should know by now that patience is not a virtue Steve has. 

“Look man” Steve starts remorsefully, twisting the knife of guilt in Jonathan’s stomach further.

“I’ll think about it” Jonathan interrupts, he’s the one who should be apologizing not Steve. 

“Great I’ll send your tux in the morning” She exclaims, shifting his mood suddenly 

“My tux! Wait! Steve?”

Jonathan pulls the phone away from his ear but Steve has already hung up. He straightens back up trying to find Nancy’s pink Umbrella in the crowd. He spots her at the intersection looking at her own phone with an incredulous expression that makes him smile fondly. He’s so lost in his infatuation that he accidentally catches up to her at the cross walk waiting for the light. He stalls just a few inches behind her, panicking. As the traffic light turns red a car hits the brakes but swerves on the slippery street onto the sidewalk. And Nancy would’ve gotten hit if he hadn’t perceived the scene seconds before. Instead he’s safely pulled her back from the accident and has his hand gripped around her arm. In the swift rescue she lost grip on her umbrella and it’s now pathetically lying in the gutter, he tries not to think about how she would’ve been there too if he hadn’t followed her. His memory betrays him all the same with a flash of her bent body on Halloween and he shudders. 

“Asshole” she shouts at the driver as they backup onto the street. 

He should let go of her sweater and run off but with his own heart still racing he can’t bring himself to do it. Nancy spins around forcing him to let go prematurely. He didn’t think a person’s eyes could go that wide but she’s surprising as ever. 

“Were you following me?!?” she demands loudly

Shit. 

[tragicxensemble]

STRANGER THINGS

Writing Cards

Joyce Byers x Black!Afab!Fem!Reader

Relationship to Joyce: Steve’s Older Sister and Joyce’s well known friend

Stranger Things 3 Spoilers!! ⚠️

TW/CW: Slight mention of an age gap, age gap (Reader is 25 and Joyce is 43), Reader being flirty, slight allusion of sex, nervous Joyce, mentions of Will Byers

Wc: 808

----

Christmas time with the Byers is always fun. Your parents would leave for a family vacation, that you didn't bother to attend, and you’d Christmas all alone by yourself. So, you set your trip out to the Byers’ home. You were a fond friend of Jonathan, you being a few years older than him and also being well known with Mike and the Gang; but one person that really sparked your interest was Joyce. You knew that it was wrong in so many ways like her but how could you tell Jonathan that? He’s your close friend despite his curiosity in smoking pot with Argyle. He was like the little brother you never had.

You agreed to help Joyce this year with Will‘s Christmas project by helping make Christmas cards for the teachers in his school. All you two had to do was help him cut and paste the different stickers and shapes that was going to be used for the card. Will gave you the task to run to the general store to pick up the needed items. Coincidentally, not really, Joyce happened to be working a shift there. The wind howled as you got out of Steve’s car that you borrowed, as he was already at Will’s house to help decorate too.

The bell above the door jingled and you ventured into the store. It was empty per usually and even Joyce wasn't at the front of the counter, so you assumed that she would be in the back. You hunted for the supplies and you walked through the aisle. You spotted the brown-haired woman and decided to spook her. She was restocking some Christmas tree ribbons when you crept up behind her. “Boo!” You whispered as you attacked Joyce with a sudden touch of her hips.

Joyce screamed as she turned around to see who attacked her. “Jesus R/n! You scared the crap out of me.” Joyce yelled, her face flushed once see saw you laughing at her reaction. “I didn't think you’d get scared that easily.” She rolls her eyes at you and keeps stocking shelves. “What brings you here?” She questioned as you followed her to keep the conversation going. “Will sent me to get the stuff for his project.”

“He did? What time is it?” She said as she rushed to finish what she has to do. You looked at the watch on your wrist and it read 7:35pm. “It's 5 minutes ‘til 7:40.” You said as you handed her your items for her to ring up. “Okay. When you head back can you tell will I’ll be there as soon as I can?” Joyce says as she hands me my bag. “I will. See ya soon Joycie.” You joked before heading out.

---

You're about half way done helping Will when Joyce comes into the house, bring a cold breeze of air with her. “Will! Hey I'm sorry for coming in late honey. Did you eat dinner before R/n helped out?” Joyce says as she pulled off her coat and shoes off at the door. “Yeah mom.” Will responded while he still finished putting a sticker on a card. “Okay. R/n and I can finish this up for you. It's getting late and you have school tomorrow.” Will groans and tries to protest but Joyce gives him a look and he goes to his room.

“Sorry about that. He hates when he has to go to bed. Uh mind if I help?” Joyce says awkwardly. “Yeah. Will showed me a specific way on how to cut out the stars.” You demonstrate how the stars should be cut but she fails at doing so. “Here, I'll show you.” You stand up behind Joyce and let your hands press against Joyce’s; your breast pressed against her back while you helped her guide the scissors along the paper.

“There. That looks much better.” You whispered in her ear before you moved your hands off of hers and back to your seat. “Hey, um thank you again for helping out. I don't think I would have gotten it all done in one night.” Joyce says, a rosiness quickly spreading across her face. “No problem. I’d do anything to help.” You flirted. You could see Joyce shift in her seat under her your glare.

“I think I’m about done now.” You told Joyce after cutting your last shape. “I think so too.” You both cleaned up the scraps from the table and made sure the shapes didn't get lost. “I suppose it's getting late. I should head home. Steve’s probably wondering where his car is by now. He treat it like its a baby.” You gagged. “Yeah. Thank you again.” Joyce says as she walks you towards the door. “ Hey, uh would you like to have dinner some time?” Joyce stammered.

“Sure. I’d like that.”

---

[ikwhatyouaremikewheeler]

jargyle trying to hide that they are dating but they’re a little too high and a little too obvious, and will clocks them immediately

Thank you for the ask!! But uh here is my very rusty attempt at this, sorry if this isn’t exactly what you had in mind, this is just how I imagine it!!

__________________________________________

Jonathan had thought his relationship with Argyle had been pretty well hidden, at least most of the time. Well unless they were alone. Then obviously, it wasn’t.

But he was super wrong.

After getting back from the roller rink, He had invited Argyle in for dinner, which in hindsight probably wasn’t a good idea because they were both tripping balls, from Jonathan’s obviously over relaxed demeanor, and his tendency to chuckle at every noise made. Usually this wasn’t a problem, no one ever said anything about it, but the lingering touches between him and Argyle, on the hand, or Jonathan pressed against his side until he literally couldn’t be, well it raised some suspicion from Will.

Now obviously he wasn’t going to say anything, not infront of everyone at least. It just seemed cruel. Jonathan was whispering to Argyle, asking him several random questions, mainly about why Murray was there, to which Argyle shrugged, “maybe he’s a business dude with your mom or something man.” Jonathan nodded slowly, sitting back up from his slouching position, “right yeah, can you pass me the olive oil?” “That’s wine.”

Dinner continued as normal, with Will’s eyes on Argyle and Jonathan like a hawk, nothing else had really happened, except for Jonathan leaning his head on Argyle’s shoulder for a long period of time, and He looked peaceful. But what if Will was wrong? That would be embarrassing to bring up.

-sometime after dinner bc yeah-

Will was helping Jonathan in the kitchen, waiting until everyone was in a car proximity, before hounding Jonathan. “So… you seem pretty close with Argyle. Is he cool?” That wasn’t want he wanted to ask, but obviously he couldn’t just blurt out and ask him if they were dating, at least not until he got more information. Jonathan nodded, mainly without hesitation, looking over as he cleaned off the dishes, water flicking over onto his shirt. “Yeah he’s cool. Why’d you ask?” Will shrugged, playing it off as he dried the counter. “Just curious, you were like, wedged onto him earlier.”

Jonathan had figured Will knew. He could practically feel his eyes burning into him, but it didn’t really bother him, someone had to know right? “If you’re trying to ask if we’re.. a thing, then yes. We are. Sorta-“ it was a complicated matter, it’s not like they really specified exactly what the two were, obviously more than friends but not exactly lovers? “Right, yeah no it’s cool- I was just asking. I didn’t want you to get the wrong idea” Will rambled, as Jonathan looked over and shook his head softly. “You worry too much, but if that answers your question, was that all you needed? Or did you want to talk about anything else?”

Will shook his head absently, he wasn’t going to judge him for it, so his question had been answered for now. “Nope- I’m good. Just uh- be more careful in front of mom, with the; being high thing. She might catch on” Jonathan nodded, finishing up the dishes and drying his hands off. “Yeah I figured, and, could you maybe not tell anyone right now? I mean I know you won’t it’s just- I’m still trying to figure out what we’re gonna end up being, and I need to talk to him.

Will nodded, giving him a small grin. “Course, your secret is safe with me.”

__________________________________________

So that was, really rushed and I’m sorry, once again if that isn’t what you imagined or anything, but I hope you enjoyed this! Also I’m super rusty right now, so bear with me please