#johnathan byers fic

[ohwowimlonley]

Could we are just for a second imagine a pathetic whiny excuse for a sub!Jonathan Byers? Oh god, just picture the way he’d beg for u? His bottom lip, all red and shiny with spit and all swollen from biting jutting out and his eyes are all red and tears are gathering on his waterline because he’s begging, begging you to touch him but you won’t give in. Not yet. Not till he’s so desperate that he’s practically humping your leg and then you’ll touch him so much that he’ll be properly crying.

[ @spideychai ]

[lovemesomeeddiemunson]

The Proposal - Epilogue

Summary: When Steve Harrington is threatened with deportation, he blackmails his long suffering assistant, Eddie Munson, into marrying him. Steddie! The Proposal Au, Modern Au, Part 7 of 7. 1920 Words

Series Warnings: Blackmail. Food mentions. Mentions of unhealthy relationship with food. Cursing. Self harm (by means of tattooing.) Homophobia. Death of a parent. Abandonment by parents. Shitty parents. Homophobic parents. Parents with entitlement. Classism. Sexual situations (no actual smut!) Brief allusion to a panic attack.

Authors Note: Our love story is wrapping up now, dear readers. I hope you have enjoyed. ❤️

Steve just barely manages to contain his snickering from his position curled up on Eddie’s stomach.

He’s spent the last several minutes doing so, while also attempting to sort the disarray that the other man’s long hair had fallen into in their tryst, the brunette curls splayed out haphazardly on the pillow resting behind his head.

Eddie is letting him do both, laid out on his back beneath Steve with a hand thrown over him to cup his bare hip. He’s been poorly pretending for the same amount of time that Steve’s been fussing over him, that he’s not completely out of breath.

The longer that his efforts to be subtle go on, the more Steve’s snickering takes on life, rolling into something akin to actual laughter. He feels like since he’s let Eddie in, that he’s never stopped.

Eddie lets him enjoy it, even as he weakly tells him. “That’s no way to treat your husband after he just showed you a good time, sweetheart.”

Biting his lip in reply, Steve’s touch becomes even gentler as he kisses the slight pudge of Eddie’s belly which has made the world’s most inviting pillow for him. “You are absolutely right, vita mia.”

Eddie smiles fondly down at Steve, raising an eyebrow at the mild surprise of not being corrected, for once. “So…sweetheart’s okay, huh? I like it. Simple but effective.”

Steve rolls his eyes. Eddie’s belly rumbles beneath him with his laughter. “There he is.” Eddie reaches down with the hand not already wrapped around him in order to cradle his jaw. “God, you’re so pretty when you do that. How’d I get so lucky?” He asks.

Steve can’t truly hear what he’s saying - he’s speaking too low - but he can feel the words vibrating beneath his ear as he lays on Eddie…knows that they’re dripping with love.

And it hardly matters what words he offers, when Steve can clearly see in the low glow from the city outside their window when Eddie has mercy on him and signs for him, ‘I love you.’

Steve smiles, and mumbles back. “I love you too.” Warm all over.

And while the two of them had been going at different paces for sure in their efforts to learn ASL. (Robin’s suggestion out of consideration for Steve, who spoke English and Italian both perfectly well, but sometimes missed the answers said back to him.) It was still a happy fact of Steve’s life that the sweet sentiments that Eddie would offer with his hands were never lost to him.

Eddie hums softly then, glancing up as he thinks out loud. “I think I’ve loved you for a while. But I knew for sure when Wayne insisted I fight for us. I was so gone for you, and here you were, with the approval of the person whose opinion matters most. It all solidified for me then.”

Steve melts at his confession, peppering little kisses to Eddie’s tummy that make him giggle. His eyes rake over Steve - tantalizing muscle, little brown moles, and a smattering of freckles all on display but beyond that…There was evidence of Eddie’s love there in Steve’s tan skin. All marked up from his neck downwards, enthusiastic purple splotches where Eddie had taken his tongue and teeth and mapped out his claim on the man atop him, while he asked, “When did you realize?”

“I don’t want to say.” Steve replies, leaving one last little kiss, his tone indicative of his withholding something.

Eddie’s ears perk up at that, “Oh come on!” He teases. “It can’t be that bad. What was it? When you listened to the demo all the way through and realized I’m a bard in the most irresistible of forms?”

“No, not then. But you know I could wax poetic about the sounds you coax out of your guitar.” Steve teases him lightly.

Eddie huffs, “Fine. Not that then…So, what? Did you look at my ass when I bent over to put the little ‘sign here’ tabs on your papers? Couldn’t go another moment without me being yours?”

Steve shakes his head, asking “Do you really want to know?”

“Yes!” Eddie all-but shouts.

Steve purses his lips. Telling him mercilessly, “It was when you cried at the end of Free Willy.”

“No!” Eddie gasps, lamenting. “Say it isn’t so.”

“Sorry sweetheart, that’s my moment. I saw you tearing up, and I just knew.” Steve says sheepishly.

“I take it back. I don’t love you, you horrible horrible man. I despise you.” Eddie lies, so much love in his eyes as he says it that Steve almost can’t bear it.

“I despise you more.” Steve replies, as easily as he’d told him he loved him just moments before, the words not holding an ounce of truth, unlike his declaration of said love had.

Eddie snorts, gleefully reminding him. “Hah! Jokes on you. You married me.”

Steve groans loudly in reply, feigning horror as he gasps. “Is it too late to flee the country?”

Eddie makes every effort to sit up at that, wrestling Steve into the bed to tickle him senselessly, until both of them are dissolved in giggles, in full honeymoon bliss.

They had maintained it for a while now, with no signs of stopping.

Con behind them, they had awoken on their wedding day in separate beds as planned, before meeting for photographs, all dressed up for the occasion.

Steve in white, his suit well tailored and - admittedly - a little slutty. It had looked mostly unassuming from the front - with a deep cut that showed off Steve’s bare, hairy chest and an assortment of metal chains borrowed from Eddie and Robin, to Eddie’s utter delight…but then when he’d spun at Eddie’s encouraging wolf whistle and he’d seen the back of it.

Oh the back of it…With an intricate spine of fabric, there were details of climbing lace vines and blooms, skin showing intermittently throughout where the cut strategically showed off the tan planes of Steve’s back…The edge of the suit jacket stopping high enough that Eddie could see how well his pants hugged his ass…the man in white just on the wrong side of smug at how sexy it made him look.

Which, understandably, made Eddie feral.

Eddie, who had been himself swathed in black, in an admittedly simpler suit - but one that boasted a sewn in cape that had flowed behind Eddie like a veil draped across his back.

The black fabric was lined along where it rested on his shoulders, as well as all of its edges, continuing to be further split by that same lining down the middle in a dark, glittering embroidery of those same vines and blooms.

Eddie’s hair was fixed with little buds peeking out in a careful placement, and he wore no rings. Waiting anxiously for Steve to put one on him.

He made an elegant, dark compliment to the borderline sinfully angelic picture that his soon-to-be husband made.

Who, in himself, was not immune to the image - salivating over Eddie, his veins thrumming with his own barely contained lust, the pair of them only staying the course thanks to Johnathan.

Johnathan, the only one they trusted to take the photos for them ever again. Who mercifully dismissed them once they had their shots, only for them to arrive at the courthouse steps one - very handsy - cab ride later.

Flushed, giddy, and happy, they had gotten married from there in a simple ceremony largely outshined by their clothing, with the two required witnesses.

Robin, and Wayne (who Steve had flown in,) had both watched them exchange vows before a judge, and had oh so smugly signed to attest to so.

Steve proudly kept the marriage certificate close when it was done, emotional, while Eddie had found it unreasonably cute, and had kissed him about it.

After posing for a few more photos, taken on Robin’s phone at her insistence, the four of them had all gone out for drinks to celebrate.

In their formal attire and all, Robin and Eddie - or rather, Robin and Batman, played with Eddie’s cape while careening through the city streets like a couple of unhinged toddlers.

Unhinged toddlers whom Steve loved very much, but still. He had merely shaken his head at them and their revelry as Wayne walked with him, their arms linked together as they had been the night of Wayne’s birthday all those weeks ago, when he had paraded Steve proudly in just the same way.

In those moments, when no one could see or hear them, Steve thanked him. For his kindness, his acceptance - and the hand he’d had in making Eddie such a good man.

Wayne had bristled, unable to accept, only thanking Steve for loving his boy. For being brave enough to take that leap, and to have him in a way that linked them all as family from now on.

For better or worse it seemed, Steve was under his wing now - and consequently, so was Robin. A fact made clearer and funnier by the fact that Wayne used that influence to land Robin with the phone number of the prettiest girl in the bar later that night.

Go figure.

By the time the family of four had had their fill of drinks and conversation and had parted ways, Robin went back to her apartment where she would call Steve in the morning stressed about how soon was too soon to call a girl.

In turn the married folks headed off to Central Park West, having sent Uncle Wayne to his hotel…but only after a generous teasing from him, to which Eddie had been snarky in his playful reply.

“Hey, fuck you old man, I bagged Steve Harrington.” Eddie had laughed. Turning from where he was putting his uncle in his cab and shouting loudly. “You hear that world!?! I bagged Steve Harrington! Whoo!”

A random drunkard on the block also whooped, and an embarrassed Steve pulled Eddie along, more eager to get his husband home than he was to encroach on his joy.

Eddie readily obliged him, just as he always had.

The two had then gone home that night, falling into bed at the start of their lives together.

Lives that would look completely different in a few years to be sure, not just from where they had started, or from where they were now, but also from how the two of them had always pictured.

But life is funny that way. And with Eddie’s US tour, and Steve toting around the first of many little nuggets…While it wasn’t the life that they might have planned exactly…

Being together, with their family, their little one eventually seeing the world with them via tour buses (in which Eddie claimed the best seat, always.) And airplanes (where Steve got the window seat, always)…Or whatever mode that she and her eventual siblings would grow up traveling by, and making memories on…

The fact of it was always the same. Eddie and Steve together, two doting dads of a bunch of hellions. Who rapidly signed details about what they’d seen and how they’d been over dinner, whether it was laid out in those tour buses, on the planes, in fancy restaurants, or wherever else they found themselves…The details didn’t matter.

Because as it was, it was the best of both of their dreams. Everything that they had never dared to let themselves want during the years of paper-clips and pointless meetings that could have been emails.

And it was perfect.

— La fine. —

Series Masterlist

Previous Part: Part 6

[nebulaoz]

the beating of our hearts is the only sound.

steve, eddie, robin, nancy, johnathon and argyle are all packed in steve's beemer. johnathon and argyle in the empty trunk (besides the nail bat) and nancy and robin in the back. eddie is in the passenger and steve driving.

the group is chattering about what juice is the best, steve personally thinks orange juice or apple but grape is good too, until the beat and snare of the iconic "I Think Were Alone Now" by Tiffany sneaks in on the beemer's radio.

steve chortles and giggles, "ohohohoohh!!"

"oh no.." nancy murmurs and robin groans along with johnathon and argyle's mellow chuckling.

eddie is confused, very confused. "what? whats happening?"

before anyone can answer steve drums loudly on the steering wheel and belts out, "'children behave!!!' thats what they saaayyy when we're togethaaaaah!!!" in perfect, masculine song.

eddies eyebrows are in the sky at this point. he, (1, did not know steve could sing (especially this well) and (2, sing Tiffany of all singers.

"'and watch how you plaaay!!' they dont understand and so we're running just as fast as we caaan! holdin onto one anothers hand!!"

steve turns to him right when the stop goes to yellow.

"tryna' get away into the night and then you put your arms around me and we tumble to the ground and then you say, 'i think were alone now."

the light turns green and steve continues singing.

eddies eyes are full of stars and he doesnt even care about how everyone is definitely not looking at him as steve performs like a professional singer.

robin whispers to him in his ear and goes, "this is dingus' favorite song. remember to breath, by the way. " she smirks and pushes eddies jaw back up with a little 'clack' of his teeth.

steves moles are moving with his jaw, singing loudly. his adams-apple keeps bobbing up and down and eddie swallows the urge to sink his teeth in it. he'll do that when they get to steve's house.

steve's eyes glimmer with the passion of Tiffany's warm vocals that he so-perfectly matches.

after the song is finished he's panting, sweating a little after his performance like a dog.

the next song that plays on the god-foresaken beemer radio is "I Was Made For Lovin' You" by none other than KISS.

if eddie was falling before, he's completely gone as steve starts to belt out this song too.

"sorry for interrupting your awesome vocals there but i think your friend is gonna explode." argyle points out melodically.

steve pants and stops to look at eddie with concerning espresso and caramel dripping eyes. god he could and will get lost in his eyes. their practically so sweet he could lick them, he can just taste the syrup on them.

steves voice snaps him out of his daze.

"eddie? you alright?" theyve finally reached steves house and eddie fucking pounces on him, giving him the sloppiest kiss known to man. guilt drips through him but quickly fades away as steve presses back, curling his fingers in eddies hair.

the rest of the group groan and chuckle as they all exit, giving them some well-deserved privacy.

--

songs mentioned: I Think We're Alone Now" by Tiffany - "I Was Made For Loving You" by KISS

[unamused-boss]

Boots and Trumpets

Robin Buckley x Hargrove Oc

Warning, Strong topics: homophobia, child abandonment, troubled sibling relationship, child abuse, underage drinking, Homophobic language, strong language

I will not tolerate any negativity in the comments regarding sexuality or religion!

Summary: Amelia is now facing new challenges within Hawkins. One being her having the miss her friend Tina's annual Halloween party. So to counter for what she thought would be a boring night, she stopped by a little birdie's house instead.

I are currently sitting inside your shared ride with Nancy Wheeler and Steve Harrington. I had the pleasure to have the whole back seat to myself, with my boots propped up onto the window opposite of your head. My baggy washed out jeans hanging from my ankles with my golden colored sweater tucked into my jeans with a brown belt.

“Steve, the more you complain about it and not work on it the more it’s going to suck.” I said to him after hearing him complain about his college essay for the past fifteen minutes.

“It’s not bad Steve, it just needs some rearranging.” Nancy reassured. “You just have to…” Nancy went onto this thing about how he can fix it but I truly did not care. They went onto something else about some dinner that they had to go to. Everything came to a halt when a roar of an engine stopped every word that was about to be exchanged. Both Nancy and Steve stepped out of the car to have a look at the noise while I only peered out of the window. We all saw a charged blue Camaro drive by us and parked. Our eyes still followed to see who owned it. My eyes made contact with the California plate on the back of it.

“What are the odds..” I laughed, I’m kinda happy another Cali kid is here. Maybe I can make a new friend. Two people got out of the car, a dude wearing denim on denim with curly hair styled into a mullet and a twelve year old with red hair with a skateboard. They both looked familiar. But then I saw it, it was the missing earring to my set that I had when I left in California. I thought it fell out when I was packing my bags.

“No fucking way…” I said in shock. ‘Out of every town in this country, you just had to show up here…’

“Shit.”

You gotta be fucking kidding me. Out of every damn state that those asswhips could pick. They pick my state. Indi-fucking-ana. I can’t handle this. I'm gonna throw up. I don’t have the energy to go find a new place to live. I can’t let any of them see me. I can’t live through this. This has to be some sort of nightmare. A really bad nightmare. God I didn’t change my last name either. Everyone is going to know. He’s going to figure it out and I’ll be thrown in front of a flippin bus. What am I going to do?

“Hey!” An all to perky Tina jumped up at me while I was at my locker. “How are you Amy?”

God, here it begins.

“What’s up…” My voice sounds frazzled, get it together. “I’m fine. What do you need?”

“Well as you know by now there is a new hot topic on campus.” Tina grinned.

“Yeahh.” I answered clearly to most with no enthusiasm, but not to Tina. “What does he have to do with me?”

“Well. I was hoping you could hook me up with your cousin!”

“Cousin? No he is not my cousin, we are no were near related.”

“Really?” She seemed not to believe me. “You guys just look really similar, I mean if you never took your sunglasses off I’d think you were him.” She obviously meant it as a joke. I can tell by the light giggle that she gave after making her comment.

“Well we’re not so I can’t help you there.” I stated blankly to her. “Hope you’re able to get in his pants.” I tried to end the conversation there but I was stopped.

“Hey wait!” I turned back to face Tina, who had pulled out an orange slip of paper. “Here you're invited, hope you can make it.” She said before skipping away to her next class. I looked down at the flier to see ‘ Let’s get sheet faced’ printed in bold on it. I laugh a bit at the play on words before folding it and putting it in my pocket. ‘I am skipping school today’ I made my way to the back exit of the school when a light force knocked me a few steps back.

“Oh my god! I am so sorry, that was completely my fault. Please don’t yell at me, I’m just trying to get to chem.” A familiar frantic voice called out to me. Robin Buckley.

“Robin, it’s okay.” I reassured her.

“Are you sure? Cause listen if that scary dude is related to you please don’t send him my way.” She begged. 

I huffed. “I’m not related to him, Robin, don’t worry. I’m playing hooky, I’ll catch ya later… hopefully?” I say. I start walking past her to the free world from Hawkins High School

“Yeah, to-totally.” The faint voice of Robin can be heard from the closing doors.

…

Halloween Night: Friday 31, 1984

“Listen Tina, I can’t make it.” I told the bummed girl over that phone. “I’m sorry, I’ll come to the next party you throw.” I reassured her.

“But why are you flaking out on the Halloween bash! You never miss this specific party in the few years that I have known you.” That is true. Once you went to Tina’s annual halloween party you’ve never missed it. But that is changing this year. Being that your twin brother and step sister now live here, there is going to be a lot more flaking then just at the halloween party.

“Tina I told you, I’m taking Will trick or treating with his friends tonight.” You told her once again. “We can do a sleepover some time next week… okay.” 

“Okay.” I heard her sigh, “I see ya around.”

“See ya later Tina.” I hung up the yellow landline. I walk over to the livingroom to see Will fixing his ghostbusters costume.

“I still can’t believe no one else dressed up this year.” Will said sadly, “Everyone dressed up last year.”

“It’s okay Will, they just think they're too cool to dress up.” I reassured the small kid. In the back you can hear Bob explaining to Johnathan how the camera works when Joyce came behind Will with his, whatever it is, backpack for his costume.

“Listen, stay close to your brother and Amy, and you get a bad feeling just tell them so you can come straight home.” Joyce told him. “You promise.” Will gave her a thumbs up. “Okay.”

“You ready to rock and roll, Will the wise.” I smiled down at him.

“Be safe.” Joyce shouted out to us, mainly to Will. We all got into the car. Jonathan driving, Will in the passenger seat, and with me in the back. We start to make our way over to Mike’s neighborhood. 

“I just don’t get what she sees in him.” Jonathan says all of a sudden.

“What?” Will answered in utter confusion.

“Bob.”

“At least he doesn’t treat me differently.” Will said. “I can’t even go trick or treating by myself. It’s lame.”

“What, you think me and Johnathan are lame?” I said, trying to lighten his mood. 

“No, but it’s not like Nancy is coming to watch over Mike. You know?” Jonathan just sighs. He looks at me from the mirror. I give him the same look. We both feel bad for the kid, but what are we gonna do? I don’t want anything to happen to Will. Sooner than later we are at Mike’s front yard. Will makes his way to get out till Johnathan stops him.

“Hey.” Jonathan says to Will.

“Yeah.” He answers.

“If I let you go by yourself, will you promise to stay in the neighborhood.” Johnathan suggested. 

“Yeah.” Will’s mood brightened up. “Yeah-Yeah, totally.”

“And be back at Mike’s by 9:00.” Jonathan told him.

“9:30?” Will tried to persuade him. “9:00.” Jonathan said again.”Deal?” “Yeah deal.” Will rushes out of the car to go to his friends.

“Will.” Jonathan stops him from leaving the car to hand him the camera. “Don’t let any of your spazzy friends touch this.” Will laughed and took the camera to go over to his friends. 

“You’re a good brother John.” I smiled at him. “I’ll see ya later.” As is tried to get out of the car but Jonathan stopped me.

“Wait where are you going?” 

“I don't know, I’ll probably walk around the neighborhood.” I said. “I got a friend down that street.”

“You’re really not going to Tina’s party?” He was bewildered by this. 

“Yeah John, I’m really not going.”

“But you love Tina’s parties.” He simply stated.

“Well I’m not feeling it this year.” I told him.

“Bullshit.” He called. “Why aren’t you going?”

“I just don’t want to go.” I’m sticking to this. “I have someone I can hang out with, plus I’ll be close to Will if something happens.” John and I just stare at each other for a minute.

“Okay.” He sighed. “But if Nancy gets upset that you’re not there, I’m not taking the heat.”

“Okay.” I smiled at him as I got out of the car. I walked my way over to where the boys were messing around as John left for Tina's party. “Okay turd-nuggets.” I begin.

“Really, what are you twelve?” Mike sassed. 

“And are you a lollipop with that stick up your ass?” I sassed back to him, I start back up were I was interrupted. “I will be down that street with a friend, I will be back her at 8:45 to make sure you guys are fine. Okay?”

A chorus of “Okay’s” filled the air.

“Great! See you shit-heads later.” I walk off a familiar bird’s house. I walk up the stairs to the front door and give it a quick knock. I wait until the door opens. 

“Amelia?” Robin says confused. “What are you doing here?”

“ I was hoping we could hang out for a bit.” I suggested. “Is that okay?”

“Oh! It’s completely fine!” She exclaimed, “I just thought you'd be at some party.”

“I didn’t feel like partying tonight, ya know.” I made my way into her house.

…

Tina’s Halloween Party: Friday 31, 1984

The party was in full swing. TP covering the lights of every room. Alcohol filling the mouths and noses of every teenager on the property. Music blasting as loud as physically possible. Someone throwing up in the front yard. The smell of weed coming from the master bedroom with each new blunt that was lit. The sound of a name being chanted in the backyard. A keg stand can be seen with an all too familiar blonde on top, like always. 

“Billy! Billy! Billy! Billy! Billy! Billy! Billy! Billy! Billy! Billy!” Is chanting through the crowd as the new keg king came down from his stand. Spitting out that remaining beer from his mouth.

“That’s how you do it Hawkins! That’s how you do it!” Billy yelled. The statement “We have a new keg king, ladies and gentleman!” Being shouted along as Billy made his way into the house. His senses are filled with the atmosphere of the room. Till he sees a certain fallen king with his princess. 

“Got ourselves a new keg king Harrington.” Tommy boasted.

“Yeah, eat it Harrington!”  Steve looked onto the, now new, keg king. Waiting for something to happen.

“What’s wrong Harrington? Your little dyke is not here to save you.” Tommy fake whined to him. As a way to taunt him. Tommy was about to keep laughing when he felt beer splash over his shoulder. “What the? What the hell Tina?!”

“Don’t call her that!” Tina shouted at him “If she was here she’d leave you crying.”, too drunk to keep dealing with him but still wanting to defend her friend. Nancy, now done with the testerone in front of her, quickly left to get something stronger to drink. Tommy is now pissed that he is covered in pungent drink. 

“Go worry about yourself before you come at me guys.” Was all Steve said then walking away from the other teenage boys. Staring off at the brunette as he went after his girlfriend.

Billy turned himself around to face Tommy. “How were you talking about that got Tina mad?” He asked, genuinely curious about the lesbian that was not present tonight at the party of the semester.

“Oh. Just some lesbo that hangs with Harrington.” Tommy retorted, making it seem like she isn’t worth Billy’s time. “She can be a fucking asshole.”

…

Laughter filled the Buckley house this Halloween. The two girls conversed with one another for the past few hours. Being comfortable with one another knowing how the other truly is.

“Wait.” Robin kept laughing. “You got caught kissing Heather Halloway from her bedroom window then proceeded to fall from the second story?!”

“Yeaah, I’m not welcomed over at the Holloway house any more.” I giggled.  

“Jeez, you’ve done more than I thought.” Robin smiled. “I’m still scared to change in the girls locker room.”

“Hey I’m the town lesbo.” I calmly giggled. 

We fell into comfortable silence, “Hey, I wanna ask you something?” Robin asked.

“Sure.” I said, waiting for her question.

“What was California like?” I sat silent for a second. Due to my silence Robin thought she had hit a nerve. “If you don’t want to talk about it you don’t have to!”

“It’s okay, I just haven't talked with anyone about California.” I reassured her. “ It was like a constant sunset everyday…” I started.

“The weather was always perfect. And the beaches, oh my god the beaches. They were always clear. I lived in Santa Monica, very touristy but beautiful.” I was happy I could finally talk about my home again. “Ugh that sand was so soft under your toes when you walked. And there was this boardwalk that my mom took me and my brother to all that time-” 

“You have a brother?” Robin asked curiously.I stopped. ‘No I messed up’.

“Yeah.” I frowned.

“Do- Do you miss him?” Robin asked.

“Everyday… but I hope he’s living the California dream as you guys would say.” I covered my truth with a lie. Not wanting her to know that my brother is here in Hawkins. 

“Well from how to describe California, it sounds beautiful.” She reassured me.

I stared back at her with a smile. “Thanks Robin.” Silence filled the room again. Comfortable silence. I liked being around Robin, even with her nervous attitude, she was truly one of a kind. I was about to say something when I glanced at the clock of the wall to find it was close to the time I told the boys I would meet them.

“I gotta go.” I sighed disappointedly, “But I’d love to spend more time together.” I am hoping her answer is a yes.

“Yeah, I would love that! Well not like love-love, but do love being around you. Not in like a couple ways cause that would be weird since we’re just friends. Yaaa know.” She panicked.

“I know Rob.” I smirked, “I’ll see you at school later.” 

As we said our goodbyes, I made my way down the street to see the boys. I saw the familiar ghostbuster’s suits from where I was. I could tell that they picked someone up along the way to go trick or treating with. ‘How cute, they made a new friend’. There were two stragglers in the back of the group, by the hair cuts I could tell that it was Mike and Will. I did a small jog over to them.

“Hey shit-heads!” I yelled to them, all their heads slowly turning to me as I made my way over to them. “Did you guys get anything good?”

“What Amy, why are you here?” Mike complained.

“Cause it is close to 9:00 and I want to check on you guys, is that so bad?”

“Yes.” He answered.

“Okay you know what, you're a little shit.” I said to him, “Besides who’s your new?... friend…”

Fuck.

It appears that we have the same looks on our faces. I stared at Max. She stared back at me.

“Shit…” I accidently said out loud.

“Do you know Max, Amy?” Lucas asked me.

I took a deep breath in. “No.” I said simply. “Listen, hit up a few more houses, I’ll come get you in a minute.”

“Where are you-” Dustin started.

“I need a minute guys!” I shouted at them, walking over to Mike’s front yard. Dammit, why. Why! The last person I want to see is with the kids I watch. Shit. This is bad. She can’t tell Niel. No, she can’t tell Billy. Would they even believe her if she told them? Shit, what do I do? I was taken out of my head when a very upset Mike walked by me. I was about to ask him if he was okay when I heard a commotion in the street. I look over to see Will being picked on by some older boys.

“Hey! What the hell are you doing!” I shout at them as I run over to them. “Get back here you fuck heads!” They ran away the minute I had my eyes set on them. Will was pushed to the ground, dropping his candy and camera. I kneel down to him, “Hey Will, are you okay?” I calmly asked him. “Did they hurt you?” I kept asking. Will was not responding what so ever. He just kept looking up at the sky, like something was looking at him. “Will?... Will!” He started to get up slowly, still not answering me. He started to move slowly. Till he ran straight to the back of Mike’s house. “Will!” I shouted after him, grabbing his candy and camera. The other apparently heard me since I heard multiple pairs of feet behind me. I made my way down some brick stairs to find Mike with Will hiding behind a wall.

“Will! I couldn’t find you.” Mike panicked with worry. “I heard Amy shouting then I couldn’t find you, are you hurt?” Due to Will’s heavy breathing I could tell what was up.

“Holy shit!” Dustin yelled. 

I kneeled down to his level looking him in the eyes. “Did you have another episode Will?” He was still looking around like a scared cat. “I’m gonna get you home, okay buddy.”  Mike made his way to help Will up. When others tried to help he called them off. Blocking off the rest of us to take Will with him.

“Mike?” Dustin tried.

“Keep trick or treating, I’m bored anyways.” He started taking Will with him.

“What’s wrong with him?” Max asked, looking to us for an answer. The boys and I were silent, nothing to say.

“It’s something you don’t have to worry about.” I told her. “Dustin, Lucas go up there for a minute. I need to talk with her.”

“What! Why?” They both started to complain.

“I don’t want to hear it. Go!” I hardly ever get stern with them, but when I do I hope they know I mean what I say. They both, begrudgingly, made their way up the stairs. I turn myself back to Max.

“Max.”

“Amelia.”

“I go by Amy now…” Well this is awkward.

“What did you want?” She asked me, quit literally over me already.

“You can’t tell Billy I’m here or anyone.” I told her.

“What? Why not?” She was baffled. “Do you not know how much Billy misses you?”

“No Max I don’t, because I’ve been here for the past 4 years.” I stated. “Just please don’t tell him, and don’t tell anyone that we’re related. Got that.”

“Yes.”

“Good. As far as me and you go, we just met. Okay?”

“Okay.” She said a bit quietly. “Now let’s get you back up there with your friends so you can enjoy the rest of the night.” I take her back up to Dustin and Lucas. And since Johnathan isn’t here by 9:00, looks like I’m stuck here.

Jeez, the next month is gonna be a shit show. Max knows I’m here now. Johnathan is nowhere in sight. On top of that my twin brother is here too. Hopefully this can’t get any worse than it already is.

Man. I was so wrong about that…

Hello! I hope you enjoyed this part of the story! Also so sorry for my absents, I know you guys are wanting fics/stories. All I ask is that you be patient with me, thank you. If you have any kind of feed back I would love to hear it. And please tell me what you think of Robin and Amelia's interactions together.

I always love good feedback!

Thank you for reading and have a great Christmas!

@meowiemari

@b1tchy3lf

[bug-fics]

I need posh boy old money king steve turned hero to fall in love with the (and i mean this affectionately) the most grubby slob of a girl ever. Like imagine clean, put together Steve “the hair” Harrington with the type of girl who sleeps in her makeup, has acne, lives in a trailer park, is like missing a front tooth from fucking around with her friends or like from eating shit on a skateboard, just a greasy, grungy, stoner, dude bro type girl.

The switch from being in love with princess Nancy wheeler, to flirting with these cute preppy girls at work, to befriending and falling for this walking garbage pile who is super sarcastic and bitchy, burps in ppls faces as a joke, never has her shoes tied, wears dirty wife beaters and flannels with ripped up patchy jeans that have grass stains on them.

I’m TIRED of soft clean small preppy characters who get emotional and are so shy and quiet. I just feel like the dynamic would be so fun and Steve would have like a moral dilemma like he did when Dustin convinced him he had a crush on Robin.

They would meet through Eddie or Robin and she’s just like the walking loser and at first Steve is like off-put bby her behavior bc like gross but like finds himself falling for her or something idk I didn’t think that far ahead but I need more diverse readers bc all of them are pink frilly preppy shy girls or soft bookworms which are great but like… JUST THINK ABOUT NEW DYNAMICS!!

as a writer (I rlly can’t call myself a writer) I try to make reader loud and confident and outgoing bc every other reader fits in the soft girl aesthetic. I need bitchy, messy, dirty, adventurous, loud, just grubby girls! Dirty bed sheets, trashed rooms, scuffed shoes, ketchup stains idk it doesn’t even have to be a Steve fic literally any fic in this fandom could have this type of dynamic bc reader personalities are lacking in diversity lowkey and I love grubby

OMG LIKE IMAGINE NANCY X GRUBBY READER!! Fuck Steve this, this right here would be such a hilarious dynamic and I NEED it. Nancy is like the opposite of what I described she’s pretty, and clean, and headstrong, and focused. With like a dirty adhd tomboy gf (ronance but grubbier) like it’s so perfect.

Even Robin with a gf who like has no concern for her own safety and Robin is spitting facts about how the mold growing on the cups on R’s bedside table could result in life or death sickness or something idk it would be so perfect

I LOVE GRUBBY DIRTY GIRLS I’m tired of unrealistic cleanliness in fics girls are gross and it’s ok

[roosterbox]

Had another thought that needed writing down, lol.

Okay you know how in a lot of ensemble movies, there’s ’the gay one.’ The one queer in a group full of straights. Some have denounced this phenomenon as pure Hollywood invention. I wouldn’t know - small town, I was the only queer I knew - but I believe you if you feel that way. So how about the opposite?

Imagine some Stranger Things Modern AU with the older kid group. I’m talking Steve, Eddie, Robin, Nancy, Johnathan, Argyle, and Chrissy. They’re all close friends.

Steve and Eddie are together.

Robin, Nancy, and Chrissy are in a poly relationship.

Argyle mentions his boyfriend from time to time.

Johnathan is, for the moment, single. And very straight. But he doesn’t really think too hard about that (or indeed think about it at all) until one night.

They’re hanging out in the girls’ apartment for a group movie night. Said girls are all curled up together on the sofa. Eddie and Steve are cuddling in the recliner, not currently making out only because Robin whined about her poor innocent eyes (“‘Innocent’ my ass-” Nancy started to say before Chrissy shushed her, giggling). Johnathan sits on the floor by the couch, occasionally getting jostled by Robin’s knees. Argyle lounges nearby, exchanging flirty texts with his boyfriend. It’s in this moment here, surrounded by his queer friends in queer relationships, that Johnathan is struck with a sudden epiphany.

“Wait a second,” he says. Everyone turns to look at him. “Am I… the token straight???”

Cue six different sets of laughter, and a sympathetic shoulder pat from Argyle. After a brief (like an hour long) period of ‘??????’ Johnathan comes to accept his role in the friend group, and wears it with pride.

Will also laughs at him when he tells his brother the story. Turns out he’s the token straight in his family, too.

[miraculousagentsofkrypton]

This is probably a sign of reading too much Wenclair fanfiction, but I had a fic idea:

The Addam's Family Love Curse, but flip it on its head and give it to the Wheelers.

Hear me out, hear me out. Let me explain.

Starting point, the Addams' Family and the Wheelers could not be more different. The Addams thrive in absurdities and strangeness. They are deeply devoted to one another. The Wheelers... attempt to appear as normal as humanly possible. I also think the majority of the ST fandom can agree that the Wheelers struggle with the concept of love.

Karen and Ted have a marriage of convenience, not love, and both are distant from their children for a variety of reasons.

Nancy struggles with how to love in general, partially because of the lack of positive examples in her life. She stayed with Steve for so long out of trauma and obligation. She's distant from her brother, and throughout the show, she's shown to be somewhat isolated and only in any real contact with her current boyfriend.

Mike struggles in a different way, in that he doesn't seem to fully get love. His relationship with El is somewhat born of misinterpretation of what his care for her means. He's in denial of feelings for Will, and has been out of touch with all his friend group for a while now.

We know nothing about Holly.

Here's where the Curse comes in. The Addam's Family Curse is usually portrayed as each Addam's having only One True Love and an Overabundance of Love for people in their inner circle. They can't escape their Soulmate, no matter what they do. The Wheelers are obviously not that. So here's what I'd do: The Wheelers also each have a One True Love, the only person in the world they will ever fall in love with. However, that someone is extremely rare and difficult to find due to the amount of people in the world. Until they do, their capability to feel and express all forms of love is hindered. Not gone, but definitely restricted.

Once they’ve formed a connection with their Soulmate, and it requires more than Love at First Sight to form, all the love that’s been building behind a dam basically gets let loose. The older the Wheeler is before they form a relationship with their love, the more intense the fallout, and therefore their attachment to their other half.  The majority of the sudden flood of built up feelings attach themselves to the Soulmate, overflow going to everyone else.

Mike became friends with Will too early in their lives to really recognize who Will is to him. There wasn’t any built up love to let loose. Despite his ability to feel love like any normal person most of his life, he still grew up surrounded by the rest of his Cursed Family, and experienced the trauma of that. 

Nancy is a lot older when she forms a relationship with (take your pick, Jonathan or Robin). The fallout ends up being closer to Cursed Wednesday’s typical Enid Worship. Because, let’s be honest, Nancy has a lot of love to give, but trauma and lack of options have hindered the way it presents itself in canon. After the switch in the curse, she doesn’t know what to do with it all, and it ends up coming across as somewhat obsessive. (This is a take on the Addams’ Family Curse After All and Nancy has some similarities to Wednesday.)

No one in the Wheelers’ Family is actually aware of their family curse, just of the generational trauma it has caused them, since it had been many generations since the last family member found a Soulmate. The effects of the two kids both finding theirs ends up causing all sorts of chaos, especially with the Upside Down madness they and their significant others get involved in.

[aethermint]

Back again with another stranger things fanfic prompt!! Main ship is Steddie but also major background Jargyle and if you can include Ronance by all means!! I love them all.

All the young adults, after the stressful events of Vecna, ignoring the ending of vol 2 of course (we all know we've read better endings on a03) they have a peaceful night out together, perhaps they hang out at the Harrington's House, or Robin's while her parents are out of town. There is a lot of a weed and decent alcohol, and SO much pining. You can choose really twist that angst knife in deep here, by having Nancy Wheeler and Jonathan still together hanging by a thread especially if you want to add Ronance!

Eddie is fully aware of his intense crush on Harrington, having only worsened after the events of Vecna, and really getting the know the real Steve Harrington.

Argyle is a pretty chill dude, and hey, maybe he's also a little in love with his best friend Jonathan - too bad he's still hung up about Wheeler to do anything about it.

And Steve? Well, he's just enjoying the evening. Maybe a little too much. He definitely way too high for this. But he's never been great about facing his shit. And okay, he didn't see this one coming. Probably.

As the night goes on, Steve and Argyle feeling that zen a little too hard to think properly, cause quite the scene after they are caught casually making out. I think that after having heard so much about Nancy Wheeler, pining over a man that maybe or maybe not loves him back, but feels he isn't worthy of, or hey, maybe he's just an open and carefree dude, that has heard about the stories of King Steve and his incredible mouth. He asks Steve to either teach him those unique kissing techniques, or just wants to find out for himself without any strings attached. Steve happily obliges, doesn't really think about the consequences until he sees how jealous Eddie and Jonathan are. And oh shit.

Wait, what?

I can imagine so many fun things that can be written for this prompt, and there are lots of different opportunities here. Fluff, angst, jealousy, hurt / comfort, confessions... If someone writes this, PLEASE tag me in it!

For Ronance, I can imagine that seeing her ex - boyfriend kiss her current boy - friend's extremely close guy best friend put things into perspective for her. Life is too short after all, and Nancy Wheeler deserves the best.

[typicalopposite]

EEEEEEEEP!! Y’all my Fandom/Phone/and at this point one of my IRL Besties done me a solid! She wrote me a ST Fic 🤧😭

Go do the thing and show it all the love!

[lovemesomeeddiemunson]

The Proposal - Part 5

Summary: When Steve Harrington is threatened with deportation, he blackmails his long suffering assistant, Eddie Munson, into marrying him. Steddie! The Proposal Au, Part 5 of 7. 4232 Words

Series Warnings: Blackmail. Food mentions. Mentions of unhealthy relationship with food. Cursing. Self harm (by means of tattooing.) Homophobia. Death of a parent. Abandonment by parents. Shitty parents. Homophobic parents. Parents with entitlement. Classism. Eventual sexual situations (no actual smut!) Brief allusion to a panic attack.

Authors Note: We're almost to the end here y'all! How we doing? I'd love to hear your thoughts!

“So, uh, you’re a Junior?” Steve’s words break the silence.

Eddie, who is laid out flat on his back, staring at the ceiling flinches in answer, his voice small. “No, I’m not.” Not technically. 

“Oh, I just, I thought…” Steve tries to press, but Eddie cuts him off. He doesn't want to hear it. “It’s just a nickname.” 

“Just a nickname.” Steve repeats, voice laced with doubt.

“They don’t have those in Italy?” Eddie cuttingly replies. 

At which point Steve sits up and turns to glare at Eddie. “What’s your problem, man?” 

Eddie shrinks under his gaze, frowning unhappily as he mutters back. “Nothing.” Unconvincingly.

Steve purses his lips at that, and presses on. “Did I strike a nerve? Is it a sore spot for you?”

“Ohhhhh. I’m sorry. That question is not in the binder.” Eddie replies with a halfhearted little chuckle.

“Oh, really? I thought you were the one that said we needed to learn everything about—“ Steve starts but Eddie shakes his head. “Not about that I didn’t.” 

“But-“ Steve protests.

“Not about that, Steve. Good night.” He snaps. Regrets it when Steve flinches.

Unsure how to fix it, he stews in silence, breathing deeply, trying to come up with something. Thoughts going around and around.

He’s properly kicked himself for the whole interaction at least four times by the time Steve speaks again, his voice timid, words totally unexpected as they break the silence that had settled awkwardly over the two men sharing a bed.

“I like watching The Real Housewives.” He volunteers quietly, interrupting Eddie’s thoughts with his unprompted reveal.

“Huh?” Eddie answers in confusion, eyes still fixated upwards.

“Not in the ‘haha, isn’t that funny, he likes that trash’ kind of way. I actually quite enjoy it.” Steve murmurs back, fiddling with the blanket pulled up to his chest. 

Still confused, Eddie takes it in as Steve continues, “I took ballroom dance lessons in the sixth grade…My first concert was Bob Seger and the Silver bullets…” 

Clears his throat. “I think Kirk Hammett is sexy…My first kiss with a girl was with Carol Perkins when I was thirteen. Later that same year I also kissed Tommy Hagan. They’re married now.” 

Eddie laughs in bewilderment. 

“Never had a pet.” Steve glances at Eddie, who isn’t looking back at him, which makes it easier for him to say what he wants to say next. ”The tattoo I wanted to remove?” He asks, humming, “I got it on my ribs because I wanted it to hurt. It’s in Italian - verso cose più grandi. It means ‘Toward greater things.’ I got it after my parents disowned me.”

There’s another silent pause before he continues “I haven’t…slept with anyone in…over a year and a half. And uh…I went to the bathroom and cried after Billy suggested that I was going to die alone.” 

Eddie pulls the blanket tighter around him, the statement unexpectedly tearing straight to his heart when Steve adds. “That’s my biggest fear. Or, it was.” He stammers. “Lately I’ve been much more afraid of-” he cuts himself off. Squeezes his eyes shut. Leaving the words unspoken.

“Doesn’t matter.” He whispers. A few more beats go by. 

Eddie thinks he may be all out of revelations, until, in the softest voice possible, he whispers another confession that shocks Eddie to his core. “I’m uh, I’m losing my hearing.” 

To which Eddie’s head finally shoots over to look at him, his jaw slack. 

“I haven’t told anyone that. For obvious reasons.” Not meeting his eye, Steve clears his throat. 

“Steve,” Eddie’s voice breaks. He had been coordinating this man’s entire life and he’d had no idea. None. 

“It’s been gradual but - yeah. Too many concussions.” He explains with a dry chuckle. “I’ve had it checked out. Gotten a second and third opinion. It’s not a matter of if at this point, uh, it’s just a matter of when.”

He glances at the ceiling. “I guess you didn’t know. I thought you might suspect…all the emailing lately. The transcriptions I have you write up of my meetings…And then, there’s been a difference in the music. Comments you’ve made on the stuff I used to produce. How it was good. Past tense. I had more confidence in my abilities then…I didn’t rely so heavily on projections and numbers and all that bullshit that spells sales, yes, but good music?” He almost smiles. “It’s not the same. You’re right. Try as I might to fill in the gaps - experiencing the way the music feels…”

He gives a little shake of his head. “It’s not the same. And still, I couldn't do a thing without you. You, who are so loud about your opinions of the demos that artists send me when they’re worthwhile, or they’re garbage and I - I trust you.” He admits, the most damning admittance of all.

“You um. You know good music. And you know me. You’ve always been able to see me more clearly than I - than I’ve liked.” He stops. Swallows thickly, voice low again, and reserved. “I’m sure there are many, many, other things, but that’s all I can come up with right now.” 

Eddie rolls back over in the bed, and clenches his eyes closed as Steve finishes.

It’s silent for a bit.

“Eddie?” Steve broaches finally, his shaky voice attributing to his vulnerability in the moment they’re sharing. “You, uh, you there?”

“I’m here.” Eddie promises softly, “Just - just processing.” 

That was one way of explaining it. How his world has been tilted off of its axis. Left him fumbling for his footing, unsure.

This was unexpected. 

Even Steve, as he’d clearly hated opening up to Eddie, he’d done so. Given him much more to work with than the surface level things Eddie already knew. This was a deeper intimacy than just knowing if his stove was gas or electric, and Eddie is…lost with it.

Still, he knows how to ease the tension, if nothing else. He slowly starts to smile, probing, “You really haven’t slept with anyone in almost two years?”

Steve snorts. “That’s what you got out of all of that?” 

“That’s a long time.” Eddie defends himself.

“Yeah, well, firstly, you’re rounding up, and secondly, I’ve been a little busy.” Steve sarcastically answers. 

Eddie chuckles, and then there’s silence again between them. 

It’s comfortable, until, “Who’s Bob Seger?” Eddie suddenly asks. Steve sits up in his bed like a vampire exiting a coffin.

“Who’s Bob Seger?” Steve questions. “You - you know.” He starts singing in a surprisingly good voice, “You take those old records off the shelf - I’ll sit and listen to ‘em by myself. Today's music ain't got the same soul. I like that old time rock 'n' roll.” Steve grimaces. “You’re telling me that you work in the music industry, and you don’t know who Bob Seger is?” 

Eddie’s smiling. “I was kidding…I just wanted to hear you sing.” 

Steve whacks him with a pillow, both of them giggling until they settle back into the bed, silence filling the room once again.

“Steve?” Eddie asks him.

“Yes?” He replies.

Eddie gives it a beat - then changes his mind. “Thank you, for telling me.”

Steve lets out a little laugh through his nose. “Yeah…well.”

Eddie figures he owes him his truth, for the interview if nothing else. “And for what it’s worth…They call me Junior for my dad, Al…Spitting image, you know? Chip off the old block…The acorn that didn’t fall far or whatever it is you want to call it.” He chuckles humorlessly. 

Goes on, “I’d never really liked it when they said that but, uh, less so now.” Steve listens, lets Eddie talk, watching his lips move. Eddie is louder than he probably needs to be, out of consideration for Steve. “A couple years back he cooked up this scheme - I should have known better, really, but what he promised it was just - so tempting. So I got involved and it - it got real dicey. People got hurt. The house burned down, all mom’s records just - gone.” Eddie exhales. “He took off to save his own ass and uh, I haven’t seen him since. He didn’t bother coming back for me.”

Steve’s heart breaks for Eddie - who continues on with his explanation like it’s all well and good now, like it didn’t permanently alter him and his own personal Munson Doctrine. “I was supposed to move to California, but after the fallout, I had to stay a bit. After everything I put Wayne through, I had to stay a bit. And he - Al - he knew how to find me in California so I…I moved to New York instead, and now, here we are.”

“Here we are.” Steve chuckles. Thinking about the insanity of it all.

But, he also knows how to ease the tension. “None of that was on your job application, by the way.” He teases.

Eddie chortles. “Steve, you have to know by now that everyone lies on their resume.”

Steve glares at him. “You had glowing references!”

“I found those names and phone numbers online, sans the proper extensions, and figured you’d probably never actually bother to call them.” He snickers.

Steve gives a faux gasp. “You lured me in under false pretenses.”

“Sure did. And now you’re marrying me. Sucker.” Eddie laughs. Steve laughs too,  feeling a slight hitch in his throat.

“I…I don’t know if I properly apologized for that yet.” Steve supplies, ruining the light jovial moment with harsh realities.

Eddie winces. “No need.”

“There is a need though. Trapping you in this marriage I…I wish I hadn’t been so careless to let it come to this.” He sighs. Eddie sighs too, and doesn't berate Steve for his own negligence and mistakes. Which Steve appreciates.

“Well, it’s like you said, I’m yours now. Come hell or high water, til quickie divorce do us part.” He smiles, like Steve isn’t laying here trying to recover from Eddie calling himself his. 

“Sure.” Steve says weakly, and Eddie gives him a little nudge with his foot. 

“What’s done is done…and you know, for what it’s worth, I’m actually getting a pretty good deal out of this. A record deal. With a hot albeit temporary husband to parade around town, so…”

And Steve knows he’s attractive. He does. Has never doubted it, but to hear it from Eddie, when he’s complacent in all of their scheming…It messes him up a little. He gives a weak laugh at Eddie’s words, because it’s what’s expected of him, even as he’s reeling.

“Get some sleep,” Eddie says then, like it was nothing. “We’ll talk tomorrow. I want to see how your studying is going.” 

Right. Studying. For the interview. An impending deadline they were steadily marching towards, and their true goal, regardless of whatever…this was.

Steve nods, and Eddie says, “Night, Steve.” softly.

Steve’s answering voice is hollow.  “Buona notte, Eddie.”

Upon their return to New York, Steve is feeling deeply unsettled.

Not because of the ruse - that, in itself, remains as solid as ever. 

Through a warm goodbye with Wayne and a cozy plane ride home, Eddie had played the part perfectly. A doting fiancé who wore his love on the outskirts of his sleeve.

But now, they were back, the honeymoon was over, so to speak, and Eddie was already back to himself again. A doting employee.

He runs over the list of things Steve needs to know for work the next day, and asks Steve what he needs from him, willing to give and give and give.

Steve tries not to wince. “You’re off the clock for now.” He tells him, to Eddie’s utter confusion. “Seriously.” He swears. “Get some rest. There’s nothing so important we can’t tackle tomorrow morning.”

So Eddie, in his cute band shirt and dark wash jeans, had taken his own car home. Probably unpacked. Probably ate something without guilt, played his guitar, took a nap - something fucking normal, while Steve went home, to his big empty apartment, alone.

Well not, totally empty.

“Dingus.” A female voice calls out affectionately as he walks through the door.

Rather than being disturbed by the intruder in his home, Steve’s shoulders slump in relief.

Robin Buckley - his best friend, wielder of a spare key, and the only person in the world who was privy to the inner workings of Steve’s mind - somehow always knows when he needs her.

She’s dressed well, smiling from the bar stool at his kitchen island with one of his fancy waters to sip on as his doorman deposits his bags inside, Steve passing him some cash before he goes.

As soon as he has that business settled, he’s falling into Robin's arms, almost crushing her in his encompassing hug.

“Woah!” She laughs. “It hasn’t been that long. Just a week.” Referring of course to her own trip - the one she’d disappeared on before this whole mess had gotten underway.

Steve gives a head shake in any case. “That’s like forever,” he whined as she laughed some more, ruffling his hair. Giving him a once over. 

Clocking immediately that something is wrong. “Why the dark cloud, Stevie?”

He makes a face. Trying not to cry. She gets a brief flicker of panic across her face. “Oh no.” She says immediately. “Who do I need to kill?”

He wheezes out a laugh, and then, against his better judgment - involves Robin in his crimes as well. Because why not her too, on top of Eddie? Why not ruin everything he touches, like he always has. Because he’s bullshit - his love is bullshit - he…

“So…you like him. Your assistant.” Robin says finally, before he can fully spiral.

Steve nods pitifully. 

“But you can’t tell him, because of the…current arrangement. And the blackmail, not to mention the work relationship you have - holy shit Steve this is so inappropriate-” she rambles.

Steve moans. “I know.”

“Well, does he like you back?” Robin suddenly asks. Steve glares at her. “Robin, please, be serious.”

“I am serious!” She defends. “You said things changed while you were out there, right? What if it wasn’t just one sided.”

“That could never happen.” Steve bites.

Robin huffs. “Why not?”

“Because he’s…good, Rob. He’s so fucking good, and sweet…And fucking, down to earth. And I’m…not.” His lip quivers. 

Robin grasps his hand. “Steve…”

“There’s no way he could ever like me. This is just a…a helpless situation I’ve put him in, that he’s making the best of.” He leaves no room for argument. “I just…I had to tell you. Had to hear you say all of that. To remind me. You’re right. You’re right, and it’s fine. It’s just a stupid crush. I’ll get over it.”

Robin doesn’t look like she believe him. Which is…fair. What she says next is not.

“Or…” she starts. Steve raises an eyebrow. “Or?” He presses.

She sort of smiles, “Or you could…woo him.”

“Woo him?” Steve gapes.

“Well yeah!” She defends. “So long as your plan is to end this boss-employee dynamic, why not try and keep him? You’re pretty likable when you’re not a raging bitch. I don’t see why he would be impervious to your…charms.” She snickers.

Steve squeezes his eyes shut, tries to keep her words from invading his brain. “That’s insane.”

“Why? Because you might actually end up being happy?” She stares him down. “You deserve to be happy, Steve.”

“Not like this. Not at his expense.” Steve argues firmly. 

Robin only sighs. “Just think about it, will you? Start small. Get to know him. Treat him like a person, instead of…whatever it is you do.”

Steve grimaces. Robin sits back in her seat, swinging her legs, casually adding, “I can’t wait to meet him.”

Steve looks at her funny. “Meet him?” He asks.

She rolls her eyes. “Yes, Steve. That’s how this works - you meet his family - he meets yours - or has it been so long since you’ve done this that you forgot?”

He swats at her. “Shut up.”

She laughs, “I’m serious! He sounds wonderful, and he’s going to be Mrs. Harrington - we need his blessing to continue our Bitchin’ Brunches, and oh! Do you think he’ll do the marathon with us? It’s still pretty far out, we can get him a shirt made-”

Steve lets her go, talking aloud in circles while he gives responses where appropriate. Once they’re mercifully done discussing the whole thing with Eddie, they move on to her latest field research trip, and other important topics they’ve had stirring around in their brains while they’ve been apart.

It feels good, like he’s truly come home, a feeling Steve didn’t have when he thought he was returning to an empty apartment.

And with Robin in his corner, it feels like everything else will work itself out.

Steve approaches the subject of ‘Robin’ one morning a few days later while Eddie hands him an expense report.

He presents her as a fact of his life - nonnegotiable. Eddie isn’t nearly as perturbed as some of his romantic partners have been in the past - but then again, he and Eddie weren’t really romantic partners.

“Looking forward to meeting her.” Eddie replies. And Steve kinda hates that. How easily Eddie agrees to anything he asks. And it’s not Eddie’s fault, it’s his job, it’s why he was hired, but…

Steve would be lying if he said he hadn’t spent way too much time dwelling on Robin’s words.

And he yearns.

“Oh, and uh, one more thing…she knows.” Steve adds.

Eddie raises an eyebrow. “She knows.” He repeats. Steve doesn’t like the look on his face, like he’s done something wrong.

“I…she saw right through me. In two seconds. I couldn’t lie to her. I can never lie to her…And it helps, kind of? She’ll corroborate our story. Someone in our lives had to have known, right? Even if it was a secret?” He rationalizes.

Eddie’s face is blank. “I guess.”

Steve is frustrated. “Why are you upset?”

“I’m not.” He lies. Steve glares. His expression cracks. Eddie sighs, walking on eggshells and oh Steve hates that even more.

“It’s just…we laid the groundwork, swore no one knew and now there’s another layer to it. Another person whose answers need to match, more of this I need to coordinate and I just…it’s a lot.”

Steve deflates a bit. Want to apologize but instead offers a flat, “I get that.”

Eddie exaggeratedly perks up, handing him his highlighter, “Don’t worry about it, Steve. I will figure it out.”

He goes to exit the office. Steve feels like shit, calls out. “Eddie?”

The other man stops and turns around. Steve sighs. “I’m really sorry but, I need you this afternoon, after my meeting. We have to go to my apartment.”

Eddie doesn’t mind, he had to work this afternoon anyways. Nods dutifully. “Course,’ whatever you need.”

He heads out. Steve drops his head onto the desk, feeling pain starting behind his eyes, spreadsheets forgotten.

Eddie gets back to his work day - thinking nothing of Steve’s latest request for his time.

Since the engagement, Eddie has been pulled to and fro by him in a whirlwind, always insisting on Eddie being clocked in for it, even if their business is dubious at best. 

The other day he’d spent the morning with Steve at the bank and they opened a joint bank account, Steve flirting with him the whole time they were under the scrutiny of the tellers, crooning about how what was his was now Eddie’s too. Something that made Eddie’s eye twitch if he thought about it too hard.

Today it seems it will be more of the same. 

As instructed, after his boss’ noon meeting, Eddie finishes up everything he needs to do and meets Steve at his apartment.

Arriving promptly, he takes the elevator up to his floor, where Steve lets him in, greeting him warmly, as if this afternoon is a distant memory - and maybe it is, but still Eddie is wary - until he sees that they aren’t alone.

He looks at Steve for clarification as to why there’s another man here, and he doesn’t miss a beat, diplomatically introducing. “Eddie, this is Johnathan. Nancy’s boyfriend.” 

Eddie does a double take. “Nancy as in, Nancy Wheeler?” He asks.

Steve doesn’t sound happy about it, although he’s smiling. “Yes.” 

Eddie glances back at the other man, telling him. “Um, hello.” So as not to be rude.

“Hi.” Johnathan gives an awkward wave with one hand, his other setting down a mug of coffee onto a coaster that rests on Steve’s expensive coffee table.

Then Johnathan stands. “Now that you’re here, I’m gonna go finalize the set-up.” He disappears from the living room at his words, heading to another area of the penthouse.

Eddie watches him go before glancing at Steve with concern and asking “Why is your ex’s girlfriend’s boyfriend here, and what is he setting up?” 

“Johnathan’s a photographer.” Steve explains to him, begrudgingly admitting. “The best, actually.” 

Then his voice lowers as he continues. “He’s also discreet. No investigative prodding like you might get with his romantic counterpart.” The jab comes so naturally even as he bulldozes past it. 

“I figured, since we needed to take some pictures, that he would be a good bet.” Steve rubs the back of his neck.

“Pictures.” Eddie repeats.

“For the engagement announcement. Or…whatever else we might need them for.” He looks meaningfully at Eddie. “I thought we’d start with some formal staged pictures here? And then get some candid photos at our usual date spots?” 

Oh.

Eddie understands. “Right. Of course. And Johnathan is the best. Makes sense.”

Steve briefly looks exhausted before he carefully smoothes his face over. “I-I didn’t hear what you said. But, nod? If we’re good?” 

Eddie nods. 

Steve nods too. “Okay. Good. Uh, come with me, please.” 

Eddie can’t remember the last time Steve said ‘please’ to him…Actually, well, he’d gotten a sarcastic one with his proposal…but a genuine please? It’s…strange.

Nonetheless Eddie follows as Steve leads him to his office. Inside there are three racks of clothes tucked to the side. When Eddie goes to peruse through them, he’s surprised. “These are mine.” He says in confusion. 

Steve nods. “Your bandmate Gareth had a spare key.” Steve had made some calls. Some assumptions too, figuring if his best friend had full access, that maybe… “I though that authentic would be better.” 

Eddie takes him in for the first time then - his soft looking yellow pullover and jeans. Is this who he is? Authentically?

“I’ll make sure you have one of your own. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before.” Eddie tells him. Simple enough. This was the man he was supposed to marry - and if nothing else, con aside, there was trust between them. Steve had admitted that he trusted Eddie, and Eddie, in his own way, trusted Steve too.

Not to mention that Eddie had had unfettered access to Steve’s apartment for years. What was a little reciprocation, in light of that?

Eddie leaves it at that, attention elsewhere as he starts combing through the racks, sweetened by his getting to choose. Eventually he decides he wants to dress up, just a little bit. 

Settling on black once again, it’s a softer version of his usual style. 

A nice belt with a simple silver buckle, to accompany a pair of high waisted jeans that are free of rips or blemishes, and a shirt with a low cut that exposes his collarbones and some of the skin of his chest, a peak of a tattoo, the black fabric interrupted by an occasional floral pattern or rose composed of an orangish-red or cream color. 

Satisfied with his find - Eddie disappears to go change, before rejoining Steve, his hands fidgeting with his hair. 

“Up or down?” He asks, and Steve, who had been staring at him - lips parted - seems to snap out of it. Gesturing for Eddie to stay still before he steps into his personal bubble.

Hello.

He gently takes a handful of Eddie’s hair, winding and unwinding and unraveling it in and around his palms - before he manipulates it into a makeshift hairdo, trying to get a feel for whether it should be pulled out of Eddie’s face or left down.

“Hm…up. You have such a pretty neck.” Steve’s lips are hinting at a smile, and Eddie wishes he had chosen for him to leave it down - because said neck is currently flushing at the compliment and Eddie knows Steve can see it.

What the hell?

Then Eddie notices Johnathan, lingering in the doorway and pretending to still be adjusting his camera settings, and he feels as though he’s had his veins dipped in ice water.

Right. This wasn’t real. Steve didn’t really like his neck or find him pretty. It was all a performance. 

And Eddie’s a performer. He can do this. Playing along, he grins back at Steve, showing too much teeth. “You know your sweet talking gets me all riled up, big boy.”

Steve looks…elated. “You promise?”

Jesus H. Christ.

A weak chuckle, and Eddie bats him away before gathering his hair in his own hands, pulling it up high, trying to sort the smaller pieces into something artfully messy.

Steve lingers, fingers twitching like he wants to intervene, but lets him be, still looking at Eddie even as he angles his body and asks Johnathan, “Where do you want us?”

Series Masterlist Next Part: Part 6 Previous Part: Part 4

[infinite-love-42]

Standing in a crowded room my eyes pass from face to face searching for someone familiar. Girls and guys stand around a stereo swaying with music. Pushed against the wall is a floral couch with a pull-out bed where four guys lay, trying to sleep despite the loud music. I’m sitting on a counter eating Chex-mix from a bowl and avoiding the dancing bodies. I make eye contact with one of the guys on the bed and a strange feeling causes my stomach to flutter. I can’t tell if it’s attraction, fear, or both. His eyes are a deep brown. His hair is dark brown with curls that brush against the hard line of his jaw and cascade down his back. I don’t know his name, and something tells me I never will. I pull my eyes from his gaze to scan the dancing bodies, searching for someone. And then I see her. Her light hair is in a thick braid, she’s wearing jeans and a red button up shirt. She’s talking to a tall guy. I can’t see his face but something about him causes the hair on my arms to stand. I slide off the counter to my feet and open my mouth to call her name when the music is cut off and the four guys raise from the couch. All eyes turn to face them as the one with the dark eyes begins to speak.

“I think we should play a game.” His voice causes a shiver to run down my spine. I try to push my way through the crowd to get to my friend but a hand on my shoulder causes me to stop. I raise my gaze to meet the harsh eyes of the guy from the couch. “What do you think May? Guys versus girls.” The tone of his voice lets me know it’s not a question. It didn’t strike me as strange that he knew my name until later. The genders were divided, and masks were passed out to “make it more suspenseful” and soon we were looking to couch guy waiting for the rules. A smile stretched across his face that made his eyes seem deeper and his face look haunted.

“There are three rules. First, no leaving the house. Second, no helping the other team. And third, nothing is off limits.”

[chsetlanticwp]

i wanna post little AU one shots of my eddie munson x fem henderson!oc fic(on wattpad) on here. would anyone like that ???

[ghost-proofbaby]

the seasons pass (but you never do) - e.m.

summary: he knew your reputation. he knew you had you way with half of hawkins. it was never going to end well - but that didn't stop him.

warnings: reader is NOT a good person (need to emphasize this), billy hargrove is involved and sort of ooc, smut, oral (fem receiving), a lot of hurt, not a 'happy' ending, reader has severe issues with self-esteem (not in the usual obvious way), very self-sabotaging reader. mentions of reader having adult relationships with multiple male characters. NOT A 'HAPPY' ENDING. minors dni - 18+

pairings: eddie munson x fem!fuckgirl!reader (with mentions of steve x reader, johnathan x reader, and billy x reader.)

wc: 8.4k+

a/n: i cannot emphasize enough - the reader in this fic is very toxic. she is not a good person. this does not end well. also, be wary, as billy is used as the easiest companion who can align with her being a bad person, so she is friends with him. this probably won't be everyone's cup of tea, but it's been a year in the works! thank you to anyone who reads. <3 also, HUGE thank you to my love @hellfire--cult for making that banner for me. i am undeserving of your talents baby.

oh, also, here's a fun playlist to go along with it.

SUMMER, 1988

It was always going to end this way. It’s how it’s supposed to go - you met him, you wanted him, you got him, you left him. There was never any illusions on your part as to what this was. He knew your reputation. He knew the ending. You knew the ending. 

It was always going to end this way. 

There was no amount of flowers he could have got you, no amount of midnight rendezvous to change this course. It never mattered how his laughter wound your chest tight or how his fingers fit a little too perfectly between yours. You didn’t do long-term relationships, and he always asked for too much from you. You could give him a summer, no more and no less. He knew that, you knew that, all your previous flings knew that. There was only one ending ever in sight for the two of you.

So why does it hurt so much when you catch sight of him around town with her? 

Chrissy Cunningham is beautiful. She’s all shades of sunrise pinks, flavors of sweetness that spur stomach aches - the epitome of enchantment and a type of softness you couldn’t compare to. And when you see her arm in arm with him, you can see that beauty of hers painted across him. Her pinks paint roses on his cheeks, her laughter etches dimples into his cheeks you’d only ever seen in the late hours of the night. She makes him happy. She makes him look lovesick. She doesn’t hide him in the darkness, she flaunts him in the light, and he looks devastatingly beautiful without the shadows. 

You should be happy for him. It shouldn’t phase you; you didn’t bat an eyelash when Steve Harrington had taken to dating every other girl in the town after your spring with him. You never winced when Johnathan Byers started dating Nancy Wheeler after a flirtatious fall with you. Billy Hargrove had been on the same page as you, ready to brave a chilling winter with you and accept when the ice melted along with the infatuation, returning your winks when you spotted each other with your newest one night stands in shared bars. 

But Eddie’s summer stuck to your skin. No amount of showers run cold, no amount of new partners who you won’t allow to spend the night, wash you clean of him. The change in the leaves only amplified the ache left in your chest when August turns to September. The flowers weren’t the only things wilting when September flashes into October. 

You miss him terribly, and it’s all your fault.

You let him stick around far longer than you should have. You let his wandering lips slot between yours and you let him sleep at your side from the very first night. When it was all said and done, you were the one that broke every single imaginary rule you had set for yourself, and the blame was yours to carry. Eddie Munson was never going to be a three month memory to wipe away with the steam of your mirror. He��d done it, he’d left his mark. He’d managed to make the streets of Hawkins feel cold and empty in his absence, to make everything dull in comparison to your life before him. 

You empty the last of your glass of wine, all bitter and tinged on your tongue, and chuckle internally as you watch Eddie’s hand’s find Chrissy’s hips from across the bar. Go figure. 

SPRING, 1987

The Hideout was busy as ever, booming with business on a Saturday night as you reentered the scene. Your ‘date’ for the night was still outside the bar, surely not even entertaining the thought of coming back inside. 

He hadn’t taken to you breaking the news that it was over kindly. 

“You never let them down easy, do you?” Billy chuckles as he leans against one of the standing tables near the bar. He had seen the look in your eyes when you dragged the nameless boy out the front door; he’d seen it plenty of times before. Starry eyed boy, ever-fleeting girl. They were fools, and they should have noticed your wandering eyes and lack of commitment from the get-go. 

“Never,” you smirk back as you approach him. The live band had just finished, the music over the speakers nothing compared to the deafening screams of the guitars that had played, “It’s not my fault the boys in this town never learn their lesson.” 

Billy only shrugs and throws back the last of his whiskey, “What did it this time? Did he drop the big L? Maybe he brought you flowers like Harrington did that one time?” 

“Oh, God,” you place a hand over your heart dramatically, “Please don’t remind me. Breaking his heart nearly broke my nonexistent one.” 

“Yeah, right,” Billy cackles, “Still can’t believe you ever gave the sap a chance. Or what about Byers, hm?” 

“Couldn’t break a heart I never had. He always had eyes for Wheeler, that’s what made it fun,” you shrug and grab at a fruity drink that had been abandoned at the table, “To answer your question, he got clingy. All jealous because I was making eyes at the lead singer,” you tip your chin towards the stage that’s now empty and take a sip of the cocktail, “Say, what happened to your date? She looked pretty.” 

“You were making eyes at Munson? Doll, I knew you were getting desperate after me, but him?” Billy cuts himself off with a low whistle. 

“Shut up,” you take another long sip of the drink. It’s sweeter than your preference, but free alcohol is free alcohol, “Tell me what happened to the blonde you were chatting up.” 

“I’m more into redheads.”

“Aw, but it looked like you two were really hitting it off.” 

“I had to have three shots before I could stomach her laughing at my jokes.” 

You reach over to pinch his cheeks, receiving sharp slaps against your wrists.

“Hot,” you coo before leaning back and ending his attack against your hands, “You know, if we both strike out tonight, we could always go home together.” 

“You struck out, the night is still young for me,” Billy grins wickedly and looks around the busy bar for emphasis. 

There’s a small commotion at one of the doors to the side of the stage, and you glance over to catch sight of the band that had been playing exiting. 

The lead singer, Munson as Billy had referred to him, was just as stunning when taken down from his stage pedestal. His hair had been pulled back into a low bun, his torso once exposed on stage now covered in a faded Judas Priest tour shirt, but his Cheshire smile on his face was just as brilliant without the stage lights. Dimples hidden by the dark bar lighting, plush lips and scruff framing his face. 

Billy catches you staring at him.

“Maybe you didn’t strike out,” he hums, “You gonna go for it, hot stuff?” 

You smile in return. Something dangerous, something evil yet inviting, “I might. I do need a new play thing for the summer, after all.” 

“Careful. I’m sure there’s a line of groupies willing to fight you for the Eddie Munson.” 

Billy had been mocking you with a shrill voice, but he had been wrong. 

There was no line of girls for you to compete with as you approached Eddie. And if there was, they wouldn’t have stood a chance. From the moment you had smiled at him, uttering your name into Eddie’s ears over the bass of the music, placing a careful hand on his shoulder and telling him how much you just adored his music, he had been hooked. You had him in your grasp from the start. 

And maybe Billy knew that as he flashed you a sly grin over a redhead’s shoulder as you dragged Eddie behind you later that night, heading for the restrooms that patrons notably didn’t use. 

It was your lipstick smeared over Eddie’s neck that night, it was your name falling from his lips as you pressed him against a stall wall, it was your hair that he tangled his hands in as you sat pretty on your knees before him, it was your nails digging into his jean-clad thighs as he fucked your mouth. No, other girls never would have stood a chance. 

By the end of that night, you hadn’t even cum, but you thought nothing of it, still smug that you’d found yourself a new supposed victim. You’d never considered which one of you truly held the match, which one of you might bleed gasoline rather than crimson blood. 

All that you considered was the fact that you’d wanted Eddie, and you’d got him, just as it always went. 

That was only the first night. 

SUMMER, 1987

You fall for him in the summer. You convince yourself you’re in control still, but it’s fruitless - you’d lost control the moment you’d tasted him on that dizzy spring night rather than waiting for the arrival of summer’s heat. 

“Come over.” 

Two simple words, yet the moment you’d spoken them over the line, Eddie had wasted no time to speed his way across town for your apartment. He was officially at your beck and call. You said the word, and he was at your dispense. 

It was the fastest he’d ever arrived at your doorstep, rapping his knuckles against familiar rosewood and listening to the familiar weight of your footsteps approaching the door. 

“Hey, you,” you sigh softly once you catch sight of him in your porchlight. The creatures of summer buzz as background noise as you drink him in. Same wild curls, same deviant smirk. There looks to be new rips in his black jeans, and his shirt is wrinkled, but none of that shatters the dreamy image of him to you. 

You still want him just as badly as you had the first night. 

“Sorry I took so long,” he teases, leaning into the doorframe you rest your hip against, “Traffic, you know.”

“Oh, of course. It’s just terrible this time of year,” you play along. You both know he’d made the fifteen minute drive in under ten minutes. But there’s something in the warm air, something electric and fluttering and addictive and palpable. You’re sure if you were to rest your hand flirtatiously against his chest as you normally did with your rotation of partners, that he’d burn you. 

Something new. You tell yourself it’s just the excitement of a fresh Summer plaything, and you ignore the voice that whispers with the reminder that this started in the Spring. 

“You gonna let me in?” he nods in the direction of your apartment behind you, bathed in a soft yellow from the dusk and the lamp on the table beside your couch. 

You bring a hand to your chin and tap a finger mockingly, “Hm, I don’t know. Should I?”

“You should,” he leans even closer.

“I might need convincing.” 

His breath washes over your cheek, so gentle you could have mistaken it for the summer breeze. You can smell the spice of his cologne, the stubborn smoke from his last cigarette. It makes your head spin.

“Convincing, you say?” he murmurs as his lips graze your earlobe, “I’ve been known to be convincing.” 

This was something you enjoyed about him. He wasn’t like other boys - he didn’t fall to your feet and praise the ground you stood on, not directly. He didn’t follow you like a lost puppy. He took the time to dance with you, to entertain you with banter and to enrapture you with the chase. Maybe that’s why Spring and Summer felt the same when it came to him. 

“I call bullshit,” you laugh breathlessly as his lips connect with your neck, making a trail of pecks until he reaches the bare skin of your shoulder. “You still haven’t convinced me to listen to Metallica.”

“We’ll get there, baby,” he whispers against your skin as his fingers sneak beneath the strap of your tank top, “Just be patient.”

The pet name strikes a kink in your armor, and in an instant, your hands are on his shoulders and dragging him into the living room, barely remembering to slam the door shut behind him. 

You never let them call you nicknames normally. Billy had been the only exception. 

But when he calls you baby, something blooms in your chest. And it’s vines and thorns alike twist and prick your gut, deflating your better judgment as the two of you are a mess of clumsy limbs that can’t seem to navigate your hallway fast enough. You can’t seem to get him to your bed fast enough. 

“Off,” he demands against your lips when you finally have him sitting on your comforter, thighs straddling his as his hands tug at the tank top’s hem. 

“What happened to patience?” you tease, but you’re already complying, shucking off the fabric and exposing yourself to him. You’d foregone a bra - it was too hot in Hawkins this time of year. 

He doesn’t offer you an answer, hardly taking the time to suck in a deep breath before his mouth wraps around one of your peaked nipples and his large hand spans across your back to press you as close to him as he can get you. You’re already moaning too loudly, sure to receive noise complaints from the neighbors tomorrow. But you’re not thinking about the neighbors or tomorrow, you can only focus on his tongue and lips, working soft magic over your body as he twists the two of you so that he’s hovering over you. 

“Fuck,” you blissfully breathe out, fingertips raking through the roots of his curls. His mouth has moved on to your other breast, leaving blooming petals of bruises in its wake. 

Another thing you’d never allow to happen with any of the other boys. 

No marks. A simple rule. A forgotten rule when it came to Eddie. 

“You like that?” he chuckles as he places a final chaste kiss to your chest, lifting his head and staring up at you with his bambi eyes. He had the kind of eyes you could get lost in, wander and wade through for hours if given the chance. Shadows of brown and honey intertwining, beckoning to you with a promise of the adoration you seeked out. 

You do like that. As a matter of fact, you love it. 

“I like it better when your mouth is busy, rockstar,” you say as if you wouldn’t listen to him talk for hours, as if you hadn’t listened to him speak about nonsense as the time passed the two of you by. 

He takes his cue, and he does as you ask. He traces roadmaps down your stomach, across your thighs and hips, not uttering a single word until he’s pulled away your cotton shorts and lace underwear. 

When he’s face to face with your heat, he finally speaks again. 

“Beautiful.”

It’s just a word. If any of your previous flings had spoken it, you’d smack them away and declare the moment over. In fact, you’d done just that with your autumn boy from last year. You weren’t here to be called beautiful, to be held carefully or to be praised as you let them take you however they pleased. You were here to get one thing and one thing only - your own pleasure. 

Your back still arches when he says the word, your vines still crack your ribs just as they had reacted to the utterance of baby. 

The thorns prickle beneath your skin when he makes you cum with his tongue once, twice, thrice too many times. When he pulls your body to his, when you allow him to forego the protection of a condom and you let him sigh contentedly into your mouth when he slides in, it all pierces you the same. 

And when your voice has grown hoarse from chanting his name and your lips have gone chapped from kissing him desperately, you break your final damning rule.

“Stay with me?” 

The plea comes out soft and heavy as your head rests against his chest. Even with your window open, the night breeze drifting in, the heat is stifling. It’s too warm to stay pressed so closely together, but it doesn’t stop you from clinging your body to his. 

He doesn’t hesitate in his reply, “Of course.” 

The two of you sink further into your sheets and each other. It wasn’t the first time Eddie Munson spent the night in your bed, and it surely wouldn’t be the last. 

AUTUMN, 1987

“You like him more than you liked the others.”

It’s not a question - it’s a fact secured in concrete that falls from Billy’s lips as the two of you lean against the brick exterior of the Hideout. A cigarette is half-gone and held limply between his lips, yours freshly lit and clung to tightly between white knuckles.

“I don’t like him,” you scoff, “He’s a good fuck.” 

You weren’t here on your normal business, scoping for another warm body to join you in your bed for the night. Eddie’s band, Corroded Coffin, was performing one of their weekly shows. 

“Right. A good enough fuck to live to see the fall,” Billy presses, raising his eyebrows at you as he takes another drag and let’s the whisps of white smoke carry off into the cool night. 

You’d just been striking out. That’s what you had told yourself. It was bound to happen eventually; you’d hit a dry streak, and you’d have to eventually find a repeat offender. Eddie was just that for you. Someone easy to fall back on. It didn’t hurt that you also enjoyed his company, especially when he’d swing you around in your kitchen while the two of you made dinner in your apartment or when he’d let you cuddle into his neck during the scary movie marathons you’d began to take part in with Halloween now looming around the corner. 

“I haven’t seen you getting lucky,” you snap, a sudden defensiveness taking over. A lie, of course. You hadn’t frequented the bar enough lately to even know the last time your former fling had gotten laid. 

Billy throws up his hands as he discards the butt of his cigarette, “Hey now, don’t get so feisty, doll. It’s okay to admit you’re going soft.” 

Soft. Soft like Eddie’s hands when he pulled your hips against his night after night. Soft like Eddie’s eyes when he watched you in the shower during the mornings after, quick to swipe away any shampoo that drips down your forehead and dangerously close to your own eyes as you wash your hair. Soft like your voice every time you asked him to stay, over and over, never learning your lesson. 

“I’m not going soft,” is all you say as you put out the cigarette, not even half-finished, and move to go back inside. 

You’re not having this conversation. There’s nothing more to dissect. You weren’t going soft and you couldn’t like Eddie, it wasn’t in your nature. 

It’s a mantra you repeat to yourself as you take in the sight of him still setting up the stage. You catch his eye and he grins at you, and you remind yourself you’re not soft. No, whatever this feeling is, it’s not soft. It is angry and loud, it is demanding and sharp. It is copper on your tongue and it is raging storm clouds in your mind. It is the opposite of everything he has been to you; it is every contrast possible to the way he treats you. 

He treats you like a human being. You’re not a prize, you’re not an idol – you’re just a person, and sometimes, he treats you as if that’s the greatest thing you could possibly be. 

When the show is over and rounds have been bought for the band, he comes home with you. He staggers on his feet and you know he’s had too much whiskey for his own good. Normally, any guy this drunk would be told to piss off.

He’s not any guy. He’s Eddie. 

And so you take his drunken state in strides. You let his body lean into you as you guide him up the steps to your front door, you only smile when he gets handsy, you offer weak laughter at his terrible jokes. 

“You only want me for my body,” he teases you between kisses when you hook your fingers into his jean’s belt loops to keep him close and upright, “Don’t you?” 

This is the part where you tell him yes. You’re supposed to tell him he’s nothing more than a cure for the looming loneliness. 

You shake your head. 

“I’m not, but I can’t ride your personality, can I?” your fingers retract from the loops, and trace their way up his chest, memorizing the muscles beneath the t-shirt. It’s too faded to see the band logo once advertised. 

“You could try,” he sways, and your wandering fingers curl into fists into the cotton material, “P-Probably be pretty hard, though. Just like me.” 

He takes one of your hands and places it over the bulge in his jeans. 

If he were any other guy, you’d play into it, because if he were any other guy, you’d be expecting to get something out of this night for your own selfish needs. 

“Not so fast, rockstar,” you bring your hand back up to his chest as he hiccups, brows furrowed at your subtle rejection, “Let’s get you inside, yeah?” 

It’s an uphill battle of gangly limbs and stumbling steps. He falls against your hallway walls more times than you can count as you guide him to your bedroom and allow him to splay out on the mattress. The laces of his combat boots are impossibly knotted, but you win the war in the end and tug them off of him. He wiggles his toes within his socks, and watches you with half-lidded eyes.

“This is the part where you try to ride my personality, right?” he tempts you, the wiggling in his toes flowing up to his eyebrows, eyes alight with mischief. 

Your hand is gentle as you grab his ankle, exposed from jeans that had ridden up into scrunched material around the bottom of his calf. “Right. Let me get you some water first.” 

You leave him to rush to the kitchen, gathering the glass of water you’d promised along with a bottle of painkillers from your medicine cabinet. For a moment, you take in the silence and lean your palms onto the cold kitchen counter. 

Five months. Two months too long, technically, if you were comparing it all to your track record. He’d seen the eggshell white walls of your apartment more than your own mother, more than your closest friends. At this point, even on your most lonesome nights, you found yourself leaving an Eddie-sized space on the sheets beside you. One of your pillows now permanently smelt like him. There was a mug in your cabinet reserved for him and his ridiculously sweet coffee preference. You’d bought his favorite brand of cigarettes just last week, far stronger than your preferred menthols, and you’d found one of his socks discarded in your dirty laundry. 

No, this wasn’t soft. It couldn’t be.

When you finally return to your room, he’s already asleep. You still leave the water and the pills on the bedside table for the next morning, when he’d need them. You try not to think too hard about the way that even in his drunken slumber, he’s left a perfectly you-sized space beside him, arm thrown out perfectly so that you can curl into him once you’ve brushed your teeth and dressed down into pajamas. 

The last thing you remember before you fall asleep against him is the way your soft hand grazes over his stomach in soothing circles, and the way your brain softly whispers in the hope of his hangover not being too cruel to him come morning light. 

WINTER, 1987

“Eddie! Stop it!” you squeal when he nearly takes you down with him as his back connects with the polished ice beneath the two of you. 

Ice skating wasn’t the best idea for two people who were notoriously uncoordinated. But he’d asked you to come with him, and you’d put up little resistance. 

“Ow, fuck,” he groans, still laying flat on his back with his eyes squeeze shut, legs spread wide as you wobble on your skates, “That fucking hurts.” 

“I bet it does,” you nearly giggle, childish with your rosey cheeks and pink-tipped nose. Your smile is infectious once he opens his eyes and catches sight of you fighting back your laughter.

It was the first time the two of you had ever gone out before dark with each other. Although, you were sure by the time you two had finished your goofing off inside the indoor ice rink, it’d be night. 

“Oh yeah,” he drawls, struggling to lift himself onto his elbows, “Laugh it up, chuckles. Don’t think I’ve forgotten your first fifty falls.”

“Fifty?” you squeak, forcing faux offense, “I only fell twice, thank you very much.”

It takes a bit for him to finally find his footing once more, plenty of hesitant and awkward movements to simply stand up right before you. Once you’re nearly face to face again, he’s pouting. “Kiss it better?” 

Your feet shuffle beneath you, struggling to keep your balance. Your hands fly out and grab onto one of his forearms for balance, “Where’s it hurt?” 

“Right here,” his free hand lifts to point to his lips, accentuating his pout further. 

“Funny,” you muse, “I don’t recall you falling on your face - this time.” 

He huffs as you begin to lose your balance again, one of your hands slipping down his wrist until your fingers are intertwined to the best of your abilities given the angle. His hand is freezing from the ice. Even despite his teasing, he’s quick to work with you, keeping the two of you standing straight with ever-shuffling feet. 

“Residual pains or whatever they call them,” he waves off, tapping his lips again to make a point. You roll your eyes, but you’re still quick to lean forward and peck him. 

“That’s all?” he whines, already moving in for another kiss. 

Any onlooker would assume it’s a date. But it couldn’t be - you didn’t do dates. It was two friends, two acquaintances really, hanging out for the sake of fun. Just as you fell back on Eddie when your nights grew forlorn, he had seeked you out for comfort on his isolating days. It was just another perk of your arrangement. 

An arrangement that had dragged on for eight long months. 

“You’re greedy,” you mumble against his lips as he tries to deepen the kiss and you deny him. 

“Of course I’m greedy,” he replies, nipping at your bottom lip playfully, “Can you blame a guy when it comes to you?” 

You couldn’t, you really couldn’t. You’d had your fair share of possessive types in the past, the kind that felt the need to always claim you as your own. And you would have found it hot, too, if it didn’t feel like they reduced you down to nothing more than some trophy to parade around town. 

Eddie didn’t do that. He was still greedy, he had still gotten daring with marking you as his own as of late, but he never reduced you. He never forced you to shrivel in size, never tried to compact you into the box he needed you in. He took you as you were. 

You were enough for him. For the first time in a very long time, you were enough.

If you thought about it too long, you would have become dizzy out there on the ice with Eddie. So you don’t think about it. You indulge yourself in banter and echoing laughter, in the scolding looks from nearby parents when one of you makes a crude joke loud enough for their children to hear. You claim your indulging him with the incessant kisses, but you know deep down they’re also for you. To feel his lips on yours. To feel his hands on your hips. To feel his fingers between yours. 

To feel like enough. 

You’re both still giddy when you approach the counter after several hours have passed, dropping your rented skates on the counter as you glance to the arcade filled with patrons. Glowing lights and trilling noises emit from the area, tangling with giggling that you can’t quite place as coming from there or the ice. It’s loud enough that Eddie has to lean in closer to the teenager working the cash register. 

He insisted on paying. You’d tried to fight him on it, but he insisted it was his treat. 

It’s during this momentary separation, in which your worlds’ briefly stop revolving around each other, that you spot him. He must have been here for as long as you and Eddie had been, and you must have just been too wrapped up in enough to have noticed him sooner. 

Just as you see him, he sees you. Just as you prepare to turn on heel, to return to hiding into Eddie’s enough, he’s calling your name. 

It’s loud. It mingles with the sounds already coming from the atmosphere. Eddie doesn’t hear him, but you do. 

“Steve,” you try to greet him with a friendly tone through your clenched teeth, taking a few steps further away from Eddie, away from enough and blissful delusion, “I haven’t seen you in forever.” 

“Yeah,” he looks as if he’s seen a ghost as he approaches you, “Yeah, not since, uh- well, you know.” 

Not since the night you’d officially cut all ties with him, somewhere between Jonathan and Billy. You’d broken his heart. You’d nearly broken your own. 

Your lips are pressed into a tight lip smile as you try to redirect the conversation, “How’ve you been?” 

“Good! I’ve- uh, yeah, good. You?” 

I’ve been on a downward spiral of breaking every single rule that I have spent my entire life curating for my dating life, and I know you’re aware of this by the way you just looked at Eddie over my shoulder, and the way your brow is furrowing, and I get it. I get it. I fucked up. 

“I’ve been alright,” you force your jaw to relax, you force a kind and shy smile. It’s almost akin to the ones you’d originally flash him to get him in your grasp, “How’s Nancy?” 

Nancy Wheeler. After you left Steve the first time, letting whatever situationship that had begun just fizzle out, he’d ran into her arms. From the get go with Jonathan, you’d always known you were a placeholder for her. Even Billy had made a damn pass at her once you guys gave up at spring’s dawn; he’d claimed it might as well be a tradition now, only laughing as Nancy shot him down as expected. 

Nancy Wheeler was everything you weren’t. She could promise these men security, stability, commitment, a future. She didn’t hide them. They weren’t dirty secrets forced to only wander into her arms late at night, they weren’t kicked out at the end of each night once she’d had their way with them. 

Nancy probably never had her way with men, you realized, more likely letting them have their way with her.  

“We broke up,” Again. He forgets to add the again. 

They’d gotten together after that first time, been together while you had fun with Jonathan, broken up the moment you were finished with Jonathan and he could go to where he belonged – with Nancy. 

Of course, when Jonathan chose a different university to go to, somewhere far away from Nancy, those two had broken up. Steve had swooped in again. It was a never ending headache of small town gossip you had grown tired of hearing about. 

“I’m sorry,” you aren’t really, “That’s… forget I’m asked,” you’d feel worse if you hadn’t seen the girl waiting to the side for Steve. His date, no doubt. 

“No worries, it’s been a while since it happened anyways,” he shrugs it off, but you can still see the hurt in his eyes. 

He’d once called you drunkenly, going off on how he was going on all these dates trying to find you or Nancy again, how none of them were you or Nancy. Which, at the time, just irritated you because Steve, why do you still have my number? But now? Now, you almost get it. You almost understand the pain of searching for a familiar face in the eyes of strangers because any time you had gone to your usual haunts these last seven months, you found yourself searching crowds for wild, messy curls and warm brown eyes. For shades of honey and the scent of tobacco drowned out by cheap cologne.

You hadn’t been striking out anymore, the realization hits clear as day. It’s not even that you were being as picky as you normally were – none of the guys were Eddie. None of them had freckles below their right eyes that made your breath catch, none of them had the same calluses along their fingers from years of guitar practice. None of them had the same boyish grin that shone through the dark of your room at two in the morning, leaving you with no choice but to let him stay. They weren’t Eddie.

“You like him more than you liked the others,” Billy’s voice reverberates from the back of your mind. 

The truth seeps into your bones like ash and flames, a fever burning you from the inside out. 

Steve only fans the flames when he nods over your shoulder at Eddie, “So, are you and Munson a thing now?” 

Flames. Hot coals in the back of your throat, lively embers trailing down your spine. You’re watching the entirety of who you had worked so hard to become over the years bursting into flames. 

“What?” you whisper, not realizing Eddie had finished paying behind you, “No. No, we- no. We aren’t anything. We’re just… we’re just friends.” 

Even the word friends whispers away into smoke, choking you up. 

“Friends? Looks like you two were on a date, like he’s your boyfriend or something.” 

“Well, we’re not. He’s not.” 

Steve hardly buys it, but when Eddie joins your side once more, you don’t even offer him a glimmer of a farewell. You grab the wrist of your friend, your not boyfriend, and you high tail out of there. Still choked up, still running, still reeling. 

It’s still light when you leave the building and your hand drops from Eddie’s. You’ll both pretend the cold is from the weather, and not the distance you put between him and yourself. 

And if he heard your conversation with Steve, he doesn’t bring it up. Not that night, at least. 

SPRING, 1988

“I can’t do this anymore.”

You got him in the spring – it makes sense that you lose him in the spring. 

“What do you mean?” you play dumb, painfully coy as you continue to rinse the dishes. Plural. Dishes that the two of you had just dirtied through a painfully tense dinner together. In your apartment, at the counter of your tiny kitchen, knees not even so much as brushing. 

“This,” something has broken inside of him. Snapped, shattered, splintered. “It’s been a year, and I keep telling myself that you’ll come around, but-”

“Come around?” you cut him off with a laugh, one that stabs not only through his chest but your own. A double-edged dagger that has been sharpening itself for a year now, “Come around to what, Eddie?” 

He hadn’t expected the way you lash out, the cold storm that you had been consumed by since the winter night where Steve had looked at you like something had changed in you. As if you had finally gotten better, as if you had had something sour in you all along and Eddie had managed to magically drain you of it.

He couldn’t. He never was going to be able to. 

“Me?” he’s not sure of himself, voice wavering and eyes sparkling as they widen with tears of frustration, “Us? Fuck, I don’t know, but I can’t keep-”

“You thought I would come around to the idea of us?” your voice is cool and collected, nothing like his, as you finally turn around, “What, like we’re dating?” 

You were. A year of this back and forth, and you were too stubborn to just accept it. It was your downfall. It was the bleeding wound for not only yourself, but for Eddie – for this, as he had called it. 

You like him more than you liked the others.

So, are you and Munson a thing now?

A good enough fuck to live to see the fall.

You were never going to be enough for him. In your lifetime, you’d always known what you were good for, and it wasn’t for boys like Eddie Munson. 

“What else do you call this?” he motions vaguely to the dishes, to the fridge that holds his takeout, to the hallway he had tumbled down more times than you could count, “We’re more than just good friends, sweetheart.”

“We both knew what we were getting into.”

“Did we?”

Come over.

I might need convincing.

Stay with me?

You should have been smarter. You should have been more careful. 

It’s a brutal fight, and it’s the everything you had been waiting for. The illusion of softness finally breaks. Whispered words of care have become sharp insults, all the small moments where you had made mistake after mistake with him are now weapons. If the dated walls of your kitchen could speak, the tiles would murmur of all the blood being spelt as brutal defenses are sent back and forth from both sides. 

“I need more.”

“I can’t give you more.”

“You could, you just don’t want to.” 

“What’s the difference, Eddie?”

You were never going to be enough. You should have seen that, clear as daylight from the beginning. You were something rotten from the moment he met you, and he had just been too stupid to recognize all the decay. 

Of course I’m greedy. Can you blame a guy when it comes to you?

Why couldn’t he just accept what you were willing to give? Why did he have to push, to persist, to insist upon you laying more of yourself out for him? You had already dissected yourself beyond repair, made the cuts that would never heal and bared your innards in a way that you never should have to begin with. 

Stay with me?

You wish you were still just lazing in between your sheets with him. A you-shaped space at his side, a pillow on his side of your bed. You wish he had never picked a fight he had every right to rage. You wish, you wish, you wish.

Stay with me?

And then you lose, you lose, you lose. 

“You were just some idiot who thought you could change me,” you seethe at some point, aiming damning arrows for every exposed bone he’d ever given you a glimpse of, “What made you think that? Hm? Was it when I paraded you around the town, calling you my boyfriend? Or was it every time I told you just how much I loved you? Was it when I fell to my knees and kissed the ground you walked on, Eddie? Go ahead. Tell me.”

You were just rubbing salt in the wound at that point. Saying everything he had wished for over the last year, that you never gave him. 

You never called him your boyfriend. You never told him you loved him. You never did, and you never would. 

When it’s all said and done, it’s everything you had expected. A screaming match that the neighbors will complain about the same as they’d complained about every late-night rendezvous between the two of you. An effective cutting of ties that you’d been anticipating for a long twelve months. If it were the movies, maybe the fight would have been more effective. Something that would delve into the lead up of love confessions, an ending where you wind up in his arms and he’s whispering every which way that he still cares for you, even with your teeth bared and your sharpest knives poised. 

It’s not a movie. It’s everything you expected. 

But you hadn’t been prepared for the ache. When your own vicious words left a taste of ash on the tongue, when his eyes flashing with something harsher and less caring for you left a hollow ache that rang in your ears longer than his voice did. You didn’t think that you’d feel the cutting of ties. Every nerve ending in your body feels that jagged edge that saws through all that you two had tried to build over the last year, but it’s far too little and far too late. The foundation was cracked – you were damaged. 

You lose him. The world doesn’t end; the night carries on even as he grabs his leather jacket and leaves behind the sock in your dirty laundry. And when he exits out your front door, hiding away any tears that might have slipped free, just as you were, you feel that unexpected whisper inside of you. 

Stay with me?

You sleep alone that night. For once, the smell of tobacco and his shampoo makes you throw the pillow that was once his across the room. 

SUMMER, 1988

She deserves him.

Chrissy Cunningham deserved Eddie Munson far more than you ever had. She was enough. 

Summer can stain, but it can’t erase. Even in the months of aftermath, even for every tear shed in private and wave of yearning that would drown you in the dead of night, you never changed. It had hardly taken weeks after Eddie had walked out of your life for you to return to your old ways, going back to the bars and seeking out the latest warm blood to lose yourself in that night.

It didn’t matter that you compared each and every single smile to Eddie’s. It didn’t matter that you’d have to grip your sheets until your knuckles turned bloody to avoid touching the strangers hovering over you, hoping to feel familiar skin and a comfort long lost instead of whatever poor soul you’d dragged home with you. 

He deserves a love full of life. A love that breathes him in and doesn’t drain him. One that could let him feel the sun on his skin rather than hiding him away in the night.

A love that doesn’t tick away each passing season, because it’s a love that doesn’t have a ticking time bomb attached to it. 

“Never thought I’d see the day Cunningham got her claws in Munson,” Billy mumbles around a cigarette at your side. 

He didn’t tease about Eddie those first few months. One look at you, and he had known. 

“She didn’t get her claws in him,” you say, monotonous as you reach for your drink once more, “I’m happy for him. They look happy.”

They do. They really, really do. A love that burns like summer, and has never been touched by a dying autumn or cruel winter. The type of happiness Eddie would have never been able to find from you, try as he had. 

Billy taps some of his ash into the tray at the center of your shared table. Surely, he had better things to do, but he stays. It was probably entertaining, watching you pine and regret for once in your life, “Looks can be deceiving.”

“Their’s don’t. I bet you that there’s a ring on her finger before next summer.”

You don’t want to imagine the pain that would ignite in you. That’s the type of emotion that would far surpass any regret you currently feel. But you seem to enjoy torturing yourself, eyes still zeroing in on her left hand, as if you already see the glint of whatever diamond Eddie would seek out for his worthy lover. 

“And I bet if that happens, you skip town within twenty four hours of finding out.” 

He’s right. Nothing was truly tying you to this sleepy town, and the reminder of your worst mistake, your most terrible slip up of all time, would easily send you running with your tail between your legs. 

“Probably,” you sigh, no longer putting up a front. You hadn’t even tried batting your lashes at a single man since Eddie and Chrissy had arrived at the bar. You were striking out tonight, on your own volition, “Maybe I’d move to California. I hear the men there are easy enough.” 

“They are,” Billy laughs, throwing his head back. It’s enough to garner attention across the bar, numerous girls being enticed as if he might be a siren beckoning to them, “Take it from one. The girls on the west coast are prettier, though, so you can’t blame ‘em.”

The girls on the west coast probably resemble Chrissy. Golden skin, golden auras, golden light. Honeyed words and the sweetest of blushes across coy cheeks. They probably embody every sunset and sunrise simultaneously, and you can only stand there green with envy.

“You are awfully easy,” is all you can offer in reply. The banter has started to fall flat since Eddie. You’re no fun – hardly taking any bait that Billy will hand over so generously. 

Maybe, if you had tried a little harder, you could have been one of those girls. Clear blue skies, not a sight of the storm clouds that you still let consume you. 

Maybe Eddie would have stayed if you had tried a little harder. 

There’s no real hope for it now. You’re left to being nothing more than a conglomeration of pathetic pity parties and the taste of cheap beer these days, hardly worth the chase once the boys get close enough to see the rot. You’ve stopped trying so hard to cover it up; you’d ripped yourself open for Eddie, and had never found a way to properly suture yourself back together so that anyone new might not get a glimpse of all the bad. They could spot it from a mile away these days. 

It doesn’t help that you no longer try to cover it all up with overly sweet perfumes or sickly sweet pickup lines.

Billy’s laughter didn’t just draw the attention of the girls around the bars. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see a pair of whiskey eyes find the two of you, locking on you far too easily to have not known. 

You notice, because of course you notice him. But when Billy notices, it catches you a bit more off guard. 

“Like I said,” he drawls, and you nearly panic when he grabs his drink off to leave you behind, “Looks can be deceiving, hot stuff.”

Your eyes find Eddie’s quickly, not listening to a word that Billy is saying. Chrissy is saying something, something surely important, but her boy isn’t listening. Her boy, her conduit for all her sunshine, is staring right at you and has no plans on looking away any time soon. 

He’s seen the rot up close and personal. He’s the one who’d handed the treacherous scalpel over to your shaking hands, encouraging you to open up in all the ways you never wished to. 

You shouldn’t do it. You’ll regret it. You really shouldn’t do this.

“They never learn their lesson, do they?” 

You don’t know who Billy is talking about.

Eddie, who almost seems to be under your spell, taking a slow slip of his neat whiskey, staring you down as if he’s brimming with bad ideas that he hopes you can hear from across the room. 

Or you, who should know better. You hurt him, you broke his heart, you don’t deserve him. And yet, you’re selfish as ever, mind reeling with possibilities of how you wish the night would end.

You can hear the bad ideas. Clear as day. Especially when Eddie only breaks eye contact long enough to lean in to Chrissy and whisper something that effectively dismisses her, leaving Eddie all alone and in your gaze. 

“They don’t,” you say, throwing back the last of your drink.

You know where he’s heading. And you know where you’re heading. A moth to his flame, going only where he will allow you. You’re a ghost of the menace you once were. The other men, the other bodies that kept you warm these nights; none of them were him. You didn’t want them. You weren’t soft with them. They never stayed, because you never asked them to. There was only one man in this bar, in this entire damn bar, that would ever fill the hole left behind in you after Eddie’s summer. Eddie’s spring, Eddie’s autumn, Eddie’s winter. 

And he was walking outside the bar, almost tauntingly as he sauntered through the doors, beckoning you with each and every step. 

Perhaps this time, Eddie’s the one who needs a summer plaything. 

“This isn’t going to end well,” Billy taunts you as he takes a few steps back, knowing damn well as to what was about to happen. Bad ideas, downright terrible ideas. 

Eddie is playing the same game as you were once a master in. It dawns on you; Chrissy Cunningham wasn’t his newest love. She wasn’t his sweetest sunrise or gentle spring. She was a passing wind, just like all the boys you’d enticed before him. She’s already moved along, pretty hand resting on the shoulder of a new beau and not even paying any mind to Eddie’s absence. She may deserve him, but she doesn’t have him.

Nor do you. The roles have been switched, and you should know better. He’s leading you to an inevitable death, whether it be a little one or something of catastrophic value. He is leading you right into your own demise. Just as you used to do with every new victim you’d set your mark on before him, before your summer, before it all. 

All your old tricks, turned to weapons against you.

And you’ll let him. A moth to his flame. A dog at his window sill. 

“It never does.” 

Stay with me? 

Maybe, this time, you’ll be the one staying. If only for the night, and if only for Eddie.

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[princessofmarvel]

Secret moments

summary | a collection of steve and yours moments together while hiding your relationship from your brother johnathan, before he finds out. 

pairing | steve harrington x fem!cheerleader!byers!reader 

wc | 1.6k 

warnings! | steve uses the reader to get closer to nancy (it’s only for like a second) and, very slight smut! 

genre | fluff!

requested? | yes! 

authors note! | hey everyone! i got this request right before last week, and i have just now finished it, so if you sent something in around that time i promise that i am getting to them now! i have just been super busy! and as always, i do i have really bad OCD that causes me to write in some random capitalization, and punctuation, But I think that we don't have to worry about that in this fic lol. And let me know if there are any mistakes, but please be kind

  “Bye! I’ll see you at school!” She yelled to Johnathan as she left out the door to head to school in her cheer uniform. Chrissy had just gotten her driver's license and wanted to drive her and her best friend to school that day. She got into the car and the two imminently started gossiping to each other as if she hadn’t just seen her best friend a few days before. 

  “Oh my god, you know who has started calling me?” She said to her, turning your head towards her as she was driving. 

  “Who?” She asked while barely giving her a glance, keeping her eyes on the road. 

  “Steve.Harrington.” She said while bringing the mirror down to apply some lip gloss. 

  “Shut up.” Chrissy said while pulling into the school parking lot. 

  “Yeah, it has been so random.” She said while putting the mirror back up. “He just started hanging around me last Friday when I was with Nancy and Johnathan. I thought it was just a coincidence, but then he started calling the house, and thank god I answered, Jonathan would flip.” 

  “Well, Speaking of Steve, he’s standing by the doors to get into the school. Do you think he’s waiting on you?” Chrissy said while the two of them got out of the car and started walking towards the door. 

“There is no way.” She said while walking with Chrissy to the front doors. 

  “Hey (Y/n).” Steve said when he looked up, and then he pushed himself off the wall while taking his sunglasses off. 

  Chrissy mumbled a quick “Told you so.” before throwing her friend a smirk and leaving the two of them alone. 

  “Um, Hey Steve.” She said back while giving him a smile. 

  “Will you mind if I walk you to class?” Steve asked her while running a hand through his hair. 

  “Yeah, I don’t mind!” The girl said while smiling up at Steve. 

  That was all a month ago, it had become their routine. Everyday Steve would walk her to class, until he started picking her up for school too. When he started taking her home as well, was when she started asking questions. 

  “Steve, what are you doing all this for?” She asked while playing with her hands, 

  “What are you talking about?” Steve asked while they walked to the car together. 

  “You suddenly started to hang out with me, you never showed any interest before, and now you are driving me to school, and from school, and hanging out with me all the time, I mean, what happened?” She asked when she stopped in front of Steve's car.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Steve said while laughing, causing the girl to hit him lightly on his shoulder. 

  “Steve! Tell me, what changed?” She asked again, with a smile on her face while she looked up at him. 

  “Alright, okay.” Steve said while laughing with her. “You know how you’re good friends with Nancy?” Steve watched the girl nod, knowing that what he was about to say next could ruin their friendship. “I started hanging out with you because I wanted to try to win her back.” 

  “Excuse me?!” The girl said while taking a step back, even though she just backed into his car. 

   “Just let me finish.” Steve said, while grabbing her shoulders to steady her. “I know it was a shit thing to do, that’s why I stopped, except I found myself wanting to actually be with you whenever I could, and not for just trying to win over Nancy. I genuinely started falling for you, I know that you will tell me to go to hell after this, but damn, does that feel good to-” Steve couldn’t get his last few words out before (Y/n) rolled her eyes, and grabbed Steve's face to pull him in for a kiss. The kiss was rushed, but it got Steve to shut up. 

  When they pulled away, Steve held her by her hips. “Wait, so you’re not mad at me?” 

  “Oh no, I’m pissed.” She said while leaning back against Steve's car, with a smirk on her face. “But, you can make it up to me, with a really, and I mean really nice date.” 

  Her and Steve had been seeing each other for months now, the two of them keeping things quiet to avoid her brother finding out, the end of the school year was ending, and they wanted the cheerleaders to perform at the end of year rally. She was just finishing up practice with the other cheerleaders, when she noticed her boyfriend sitting in the stands, watching the practice while pretending to do homework. 

  “Hey, what are you doing here?” The girl said, while running up to him with her bag hanging over her shoulder, practice just having ended. 

  “Well, I wanted to watch my girl practice.” Steve said while wrapping his arms around her waist. “I mean you know that I can never get enough of you in that uniform.” 

  “Steve!” She said while pushing him away from her, causing Steve to pull her back into him. “Someone will see!” 

  “Let them.” He said, while placing a hand on the side of her face, and pulling her in for a kiss. They were in a public place, so people would have been able to see, but Steve knew that the field was now empty, leaving only the two of them. 

  Later that summer, the two of them had been spending more time together than ever before. Even with Steve having a new job. 

  She walked into scoops ahoy, to see her boyfriend serving ice cream to some customers. 

  “Hey babe!” He said, while the customers made their way out and into the open mall. Steve came out from behind the counter to greet her, but she just started laughing. 

  “I’m sorry, but what on earth is that hat?” She said laughing while leaning on the counter. 

  “Yeah, ha ha, just remember, you date this.” He said while pointing at himself, causing the girl to just laugh even more. 

  They spent the majority of the summer like this, her showing up at his work, and him imminently having her vanilla ice cream ready for her. He would spend his breaks (and even some of his work time) with her, playing with his hair while she ate her ice cream. 

  “Steve, you know you have work to do?” Robin said from behind the counter, getting a groan from Steve before he got up to go back to work, leaving you alone. 

  “Steve, will you please focus on the russians.” Dustin yelled to him, while Steve was staring at (Y/n) while she was reading a book. 

  “I’m sorry, but how do you expect me to help you translate evil russians?” 

  They were successful in keeping their relationship a secret from Jonthan until one day in late July 1985. 

  “Steve, what if Jonathan walks in, shouldn’t we be doing this at your place?” (Y/n) asked while Steve was kissing her neck. 

  “He’s out with Nancy, don’t even worry about it sweetheart.” Steve said while she had her hands in his hair. “Especially if you keep on doing that.” He mumbled close to her before he leaned back in, and connected their lips. 

  The two of them were so lost in each other that they did not even hear the door open to her bedroom. “Hey (Y/n) have you seen my- OH MY GOD.” Jonathan yelled, while covering his eyes causing the (Y/n) and Steve to pull apart, and Nancy to run in. 

  “What’s Wrong- Steve?!” Nancy said shockingly. “What are you doing here?” 

  “Well, I was trying to do he-” Steve started to say, before he was cut off by his girlfriend. 

  “Steve Harrington if you finish that sentence, I swear to god I will-” (Y/n) started before Steve cut her off 

  “Okay, okay sorry!” Steve said while he was holding his hands up. “How long has this been going on?” Jonathan said while pointing his finger between the two of them. 

  “Almost a year.” She said, causing Johnathan to gasp. “A YEAR?!” 

  “We didn’t tell you because we knew that you would react this way!” She shouted at her brother. 

  “Well yeah! What if he hurts you?!” Jonathan shouted back. “You know what people say about him! No offense Steve.” 

  “None taken” Steve said back while waving a hand. “I know what they say about me too, all good things.” 

  “We have been together for almost a year, Johnathan, if that was the case, it would be over by now!” (Y/n) said while rolling her eyes at Steve's comment. 

  “He treats you right?” Jonathan asked, still being protective over his sister. 

  “Yes he does, you have nothing to worry about, Jonathan.” She said back to her brother.  

  “Alright then, but if you hurt her, Harrington.” Jonathan said while trying to sound all tough. 

  “I wouldn’t dream of it.” Steve said while he wrapped his arms around his girlfriend's waist, watching Johnathan and Nancy walk out of the room, shutting the door behind them. “So, should we continue?” 

  “We just got caught by my brother, and you want to keep going, Steve?” (Y/n) said while turning her head to look at him with an eyebrow raised. 

  “Well, yeah?” Steve said, smiling back at her. 

  “You are going to be the end of me, Steve Harrington.” She said as she turned to face him. While wrapping her arms around his neck.   “And, I’ll be there until that happens.” Steve says while smiling, and leaning down to kiss her again.

Tags! | @minty-fox-candyyki

[bunnywrites1414]

Happy Kink-tober ~~

This years kinktober is 100% compiled of self inserts because I am a spoiled brat and this is my account :)))

I am not sorry for any of these

As always pls read the tags for EVERY SINGLE fic before you read. Don’t accidentally trigger yourself.

Day 1: Steve Harrington

Teasing- Your friends cannot take a hint and Steve doesn't seem to care

Day 2: Suna Rinatarou

Thigh Riding- What kind of jerk invites someone over and then sits on a computer game for 2 hours? Suna, that's who.

Day 3: Shota Aizawa

Oral Fixation- Y/N gets bratty without something in her mouth and Aizawa is tired of hearing her.

Day 4: Jax Teller

Daddy Kink- Y/N knows what that word does to Prince Teller, she just doesn't care

Day 5: Eddie Munson

Corruption- She is the cutest thing he's ever seen and he cannot wait to ruin her.

Day 6: Spencer Reid

Sadomasochism- Angry Dom!Spencer = Unfair punishments

Day 7: Hitoshi Shinsou

Mind control- Hitoshi's quirk is fun, when he can convince his partners to let him do it

Day 8: Johnathan Byers

Brat Taming- Johnathan is a pushover. His submissive is well aware of that. However it takes more than a pout to sway his friend Eddie

Day 9: Izuku Midoriya

Forced Orgasms- Y/N tastes like heaven and Izuku can't control himself

Day 10: Ushijima Wakatoshi

Size Kink- Ushiwaka is a big 'ol boy

Day 11: Sam Winchester

Angry Sex- Sam hates Y/N. Y/N hates Sam. Dean and Bobby think it's hilarious.

Day 12: Billy Hargrove

Costumes- Billy didn't even know Y/N was coming to this party, but he knows they're matching costumes and that her ass looks perfect in those shorts.

Day 13: Taishiro Toyomitsu (Fat Gum) ft. Kirishima

Teaching- Kirishima has some questions for his mentor and Fatgum is happy to help.

Day 14: Katsuki Bakugo

Phone Sex- Katsuki's away on a mission and Y/N can't cum without him

Day 15: Eddie Munson

Throat Training-Eddie is really good with his mouth, Y/N wants to make him feel just as good as he makes her feel, but it takes a little work.

Day 16: Kotaro Bokuto ft. Kuroo

Group Sex- Kuroo's little girlfriend is really cute and he knows it. Bokuto is a connoisseur of cute things, and Kuroo's not so bad.

Day 17: Eijiro Kirishima

Pain Play- Kirishima is a people pleaser and Y/N likes a little pain with her pleasure

Day 18: Jax Teller

Dumbification- Even 'big hot shot Scientists' need a few moments to be a little brainless.

Day 19: Amren

Blood- Amren has never had blood wraith

Day 20: Arron Hotchner ft. Spencer Reid

Pet Play- Arron forgets to mention he's bringing home a friend, and Y/N is deep in pet space when they get there

Day 21: Cassian

Primal Play - Cassian’s an animal.

Day 22: Steve Harrington ft. Eddie Munson

Degradation and Praise- Steve and Eddie balance each other very well, or at least Y/N thinks so

Day 23: Azriel Shadowsinger

Edging- 'If you hold it I'll reward you'. Y/N likes rewards.

Day 24: Spencer Reid

Bondage- Reid wants to practice his knots

Day 25: Dean Winchester

Overstimulation- Dean is cocky and Y/N thinks it's funny to push his buttons.

Day 26: Eddie Munson

Dacryphilia- Eddie teaches Y/N a thing or two about discipline and can't help but notice how pretty she looks when she's crying.

Day 27: Shota Aizawa

DILF- Aizawa knows he's old enough to be her dad, but his Nanny is perfect

Day 28: Tetsuro Kuroo

Psuedocest- He knows he shouldn't but she sounds so desperate. What kind of brother would he be if he just let his little sister suffer?

Day 29: Spencer Reid

CNC- Y/N is stuck. Like really really stuck. Her neighbor Reid agrees to help under one condition.

Day 30: Keiji Akaashi

Mutual Masturbation- Akaashi is a visual learner, but Y/N thinks he just likes to see her embarassed

Day 31: Jax Teller

Rough Sex- Jax likes to fuck after he fights, and his choice of ass has a hard time saying no to that smile.

[reareaotaku]

Hi! Idk if your requests are open but I loveeee your posts :3 can I request a yan! Johnathan Byers fic <3 thank u !!!!

YES. I need to change it up a little from you know who works

He is obsessive over every part of you

Not to mention controlling

You're his muse and he loves taking photos of you

Any picture with you in it is a perfect picture

He was in love with you before you knew he existed

Others [Steve and his friends] thought Johnathan was a perv and freak

Especially when Steve finds out Johnathan has a crush on you

Steve makes sure to tell you and humiliate the poor guy

"Who's Johnathan?"

Steve wants to laugh, because this is the funniest thing ever

"You know, Byers? The guy who's brother went missing."

"Oh," You frown, "Poor guy. I feel so bad for him."

Steve is no longer laughing. In fact, Johnathan should thank Steve for helping him [John] start hitting it off with you

You want to help Johnathan find his brother, though Johnathan doesn't want you to get hurt

He wants to protect you from the bad stuff that happens in Hawkins [Even though he knows that he can't]

Whenever he sees you, he always gives you a big hug and squeezes you tight enough where he thinks you might disappear

He's a great listener, so if you ever have problems, he's always there to listen