#jonathan byers x fem!reader

[dorkszn]

𝓕𝓡𝓔𝓐𝓚𝓨 𝓞𝓝 𝓒𝓐𝓜𝓔𝓡𝓐

𝓋ℴ𝓁. six / 𝒾𝓈𝓈𝓊ℯ. steve harrington, billy hargrove, jonathan byers

twitter p links ! / male & female reader ! / vol. seven !

STEVE HARRINGTON

01. in the break room of family video ( male reader )

02. fucking one of the “freaks” in an empty classroom ( fem reader )

03. taking you in his car during lunch ( fem reader )

04. he wants to get as deep as possible ( male reader )

BILLY HARGROVE

01. he thinks you moaning and crying his name while your knees are pressed to your chest is the best thing ever ( male reader )

02. passenger princess ( fem reader )

03. him fucking you soft for a change ( male reader )

04. he wonders how many orgasm he can pull from you in one night ( fem reader )

bonus. this video is just billy vibes

JONATHAN BYERS

01. everybody assumes you’re the top and jonathan bottoms. but both of you know that isn’t right. ( male reader )

02. riding him right after you wake up ( male reader )

03. letting you use him ( fem reader )

04. he’s been thinking about you nonstop ( fem reader )

my first multi-character vers!! 😛 jason, eddie, and hopper next? do we want a girls vers? also i did this in like under an hour, motivation and energy were present 🙏🏽 can y’all tell im in my stranger things era again?

[wroteclassicaly]

Don’t know why I just had a random visual of being fucked hard on top of a counter by Jonathan Byers.

You two are closing down Surfer Boy Pizza. Fingers wrapped around shelves for leverage, supplies falling all over the floor. His jeans are around his ass, face in your neck, grunting and focussed. One of your hands hold onto the empty rack behind you, the other wound in his hair, legs locked around his waist.

[eiightysixbaby]

right here, right now

pairing: jonathan byers x fem!reader

wc: 2.1k

summary: it's almost time to try and save the world, again. but before you do, you and jonathan have something to take care of.

cw: 18+ ONLY - SMUT some angst, unprotected piv, creampie, use of pet names

author’s note: aahhhh, nothing like some ‘i need to have you right now because the world might end and idk if i’ll ever get to have you again’ smut

You aren't really sure how long it had been. You aren't sure how long it would be, until Nancy patched through on the walkie talkies to give you the all clear to join the others or until something killed you, whichever came first.

You sit in the back seat of Steve's BMW, clenching and unclenching your fist around your baseball bat to ease your nerves. You're parked off the side of the road, close but not too close to the most recent gate that had opened up in Hawkins. Steve, Nancy, Eddie, and Robin had gone through, preparing to enact the first phase of the plan. You'd spent the last couple of days preparing, giving yourselves until the last possible moment to ensure everything was perfect. To ensure that you could seal up the contents of the Upside Down forever - lock them away, never to seep into your reality ever again.

But now, as you sit trembling on the leather bench seat, the details don't matter. What does matter, a fact gone unspoken but known by each of you equally, is that this is your last chance. If you fail this time - and the possibility of that is very real - it will cost you your lives. It will cost the lives of everyone in this town; Hawkins will fall.

Jonathan's breathing is staggered beside you, his body shuddering with each exhale. He's trying not to panic for your sake, but you know he's fearing for you and for Will, for his mom, for himself. For everyone.

The world is dark around you, nightfall having hit what feels like eons ago. Your teeth chatter although it isn't cold, and you startle momentarily when you feel Jonathan's hand come to rest on your thigh.

"Hey," he says softly, bringing your focus onto him and only him. "It's gonna be okay, yeah? We're going to get through this."

You're silent for a moment. "What if we don't this time, Jon?" You can barely look at him as you say the words, because you fear you'll burst into tears if you meet those soft honey eyes.

He can see your sturdy resolve beginning to crumble, and he drops his weapon and pulls you into his chest, pressing his lips to the top of your head. "Don't think like that, okay? We're going to do this, we have to do this."

You know that he's saying this to convince the both of you, you know he doesn't fully believe it himself, but you appreciate the reassurance regardless. You bury your face further into the soft fabric of his shirt, taking a long, deep inhale. He smells as he always has, like laundry detergent and his cologne and a faint hint of coffee.

You don't want to think about the fact that this could be the last time you get to smell his smell.

Before you can stop them, a few stray tears escape your eyes, rolling down your cheeks. You sniffle quietly, trying to collect yourself once more, but Jonathan's already alert to your upset.

"Hey, hey," he soothes, tilting your chin up with a gentle finger. "Baby, I'm here with you. I'm here."

You don't want to say what you're thinking - But what if you aren't always here? What if this is the last moment we have together? - and so you say nothing. Your lip wobbles as you take a shaky breath, more tears rolling warm and heavy down your skin.

Jonathan is quick to wipe them away, the pad of his thumbs so soft as they rid your face of the saltwater streaks.

"I'm so scared," is all you can say before he's hugging you tight against him once more, his grip on you firm and comforting.

"I know, I know," he rocks you back and forth, kissing your forehead. "Me too."

You pull back suddenly, feeling the need to look him in his eyes. "I love you so much, more than I've ever loved anything in my life."

"More than you love birthday cake milkshakes from Benny's?" he jokes, the left corner of his mouth tugging upward in a slight smirk.

You laugh, a watery sound through your ebbing tears. "Oh, on second thought, never mind..."

He joins in on your laughter, and for a moment everything is normal. For a moment you're on the couch in his living room and Joyce is making cookies in the kitchen, and you aren't about to fight monsters and try to save the world, again. You appreciate his willingness to try and make you smile, even in the bad moments.

"I love you too, you know that. I always will." he returns your sentiment once your giggles have subsided, cupping your face in his hands and pressing his lips to yours.

You kiss him back eagerly, his mouth a welcome reprieve from the constant terror your life has been lately.

You can't quite pinpoint the moment it goes from sweet and tender to needy and hot, but it happens quickly. One moment his lips move slowly against yours, his hands soft on your cheeks, and the next his tongue is prying into your mouth and your hands are tangled in his hair and tugging. You're pulling yourself onto his lap, knees bracketing his hips, both of you breathing heavily.

He pulls away only for a moment, his eyes searching your face. "You really want to do this right now?" he checks, waiting for your permission.

You nod quickly. "Yes, right now." There's a pause, and then. "I don't know when we'll get to do this again."

It's a devastating statement if you really think about it, but neither of you are planning on thinking too hard. He doesn't dwell on the undertones of it, instead he lets his hunger take over.

You thought you'd been desperate to have him before, like that time after he was sick for two straight weeks and you couldn't see him, or when you'd teased him so bad beneath your lunch table senior year that he'd dragged you into the janitor's closet and made you late for the next class. But this? This was new, this rivaled every time before it. You were primal, animalistic in the way you licked into each other's open mouths, determined in the way you undid his belt and pushed his jeans down his thighs.

It was a desperation that could only come from such a dire sense of urgency - the end of the world wasn't necessarily far away, after all.

He wastes no time helping you shed your pants, both of you knowing that this isn't the time for drawn-out foreplay or extensive teasing - you never know when Nancy's voice might sound over the walkie.

Good thing for him, you're already soaking through your panties, the severity of the situation only turning you on further in some sick, twisted way. You need to have him, there's no questioning it.

You let out a harsh whine when his lips latch onto your neck, sucking hard on the tender skin, his hands gripping your hips with a ferocity you've never felt from him before. He guides you over his cock, letting his shaft slide through your folds, your juices coating him. He hisses at the sensation, his cheeks flushing a deep pink that you can decipher even in the low lighting.

"Shit, baby," he rasps, letting his head fall back against the seat.

You give him a sly little smirk. "Am I losing ya already?" you tease, satisfied when he rolls his eyes.

"No," he says, and before you can process it he's completely flipped your position; you now lying down along the cool leather seat, his body hovering over yours. "Definitely not."

Your lips part in an attempt to say something, but no words can come out before he's kissing you once more. Your legs fall open easily, allowing him space to fully slot himself between them. He lets out strained whimpers when he licks into your eager mouth, your hands splayed across his back, nails digging into the skin through his shirt.

"Baby," you pant. "I can't wait any longer, I need you," your voice is breathy, impatient.

"Don't worry, sweetheart," he murmurs against your cheek. "I'm gonna take care of you."

In seconds he's got his hand wrapped around the base of his shaft, slowly guiding the tip into your weeping entrance. You gasp at the initial intrusion, the sound turning into something closer to a scream the more of him you take.

"Jonathan, Jonathan," you mumble mindlessly, drunk on his cock and he's only been inside of you for thirty seconds. In normal circumstances he may have teased you, made your face flush with heat as he taunted your desperation. But these aren't normal circumstances, and he's just as needy as you are.

"I know, angel, I know," he murmurs. "Feels so good, huh?"

You nod, pressing sloppy kisses to his lips as he starts to move inside of you. The drag of his length out and in and then out again has you nearly delirious, bringing every inch of your body to life, as if you're a live wire.

"Fuck, fuckfuckfuck," he curses, picking up his pace rapidly.

The car fills with the sounds of skin slapping against skin, heavy breaths and moans and sighs. You're able to almost forget, like this. With his weight on top of you and his cock hitting the perfect spot inside, you can almost pretend like you don't have a baseball bat and an axe sitting on the floor of the vehicle, signifiers of your impending battle. You try to ignore the way the street lights flicker outside, something you know to be a sign of more than just faulty bulbs.

His teeth nip at your earlobe, a weakness of yours, and you know that he's seen the flickering too. It's his silent way of trying to distract you as best he can. Paired with the relentless way in which he pounds into you, it works, your brain nearly shutting off as you zone in on his grunts and whines.

"I love you," he pants. "So fucking much."

He tugs your bottom lip between his teeth, and only when he lets go do you reply. "I love you, fuck I love you. Feels so good, Jon."

He chuckles lightly at this, satisfied with his ability to bring you such pleasure. "You feel good, too. You have no fucking idea," he praises, resting his forehead against yours as he maintains his steady pace.

There's something in your gut that tells you you don't have much time before your friends will page you, and as if reading your mind, Jonathan's right hand finds its way between your thighs. The pad of his thumb begins to rub quick circles over your clit, your breathing growing heavier. You feel electric beneath his touch, succumbing entirely to how good he’s making you feel.

"You gonna be a good girl and cum for me, angel?" he asks, knowing if he keeps up his actions, you'll be hurtling over the edge in no time.

"Yes!" you cry, "Yes Jonathan, fuck. I want to be a good girl, wanna cum for you."

He dips his head low, his mouth against the shell of your ear. "So do it, then," he instructs, his voice deliciously husky, his tone commanding.

It's all you need to fully reach your breaking point, and your legs shake as you cum around his cock. His name spills from your lips in a shattered cry, back arching off of the seat beneath you. Your orgasm seems to last forever, your walls squeezing him tight until he's spilling inside of you, moaning your name followed by a string of curses. He collapses on top of you, and it's so comforting to feel the weight of him. To feel and hear him breathing.

The euphoric haze you’d been caught up in, the primal urge that had taken control of you starts to fade. You don’t want reality to set in, you want to fend it off for as long as possible, but it’s too late. Fear creeps its way back into your throat, and you cling tighter to Jonathan.

He senses your unease and you know he’s feeling it again, too. So when he speaks, his voice slightly hoarse from use, you’re expecting him to say something serious. “Do you think Steve will be mad we fucked in his car?"

You snort, genuinely caught off guard by the lighthearted question. "Let's save the world first, and then we can decide if we're even gonna tell him."

Jonathan laughs, and the sound tugs at your heart strings. It's one of your favorite sounds, and you only hope you get to hear it for years to come.

You kiss him, slow and passionate before deciding you need to redress. You prepare your backpack of necessary tools, you hold his hand as you wait for Nancy's signal.

And with ever perfect timing, her voice comes through the static.

One squeeze of your hand. Two. Three.

I. Love. You.

[munsster]

hi pookieee

i just found your blog and legit spent like two hours reading your stuff- IT'S SO GOODDDDD OML

so, if requests are open, and if they're not! totally fine, but if they are... can i maybe possibly request a jonathan byers oneshot? 😍maybe domestic vibes, some will and joyce, sort of where reader is just part of the daily, like it's not a 'oH jOnAtHaN hAs a GiRl OvEr' type of thing, the byers are just so used to her being around-

OKEY BYEEE, DRINK WATER, EAT SNACKS, KEEP SPARKLING ✨

fall into place

A/N: HI POOKIE! im obsessed w ur energy and i would do anything for u, this sounds so cute hope u like it 😋

Pairing: Jonathan Byers x Fem!Reader

Summary: Jonathan comes home to find you fully adopted into the Byers’ daily routine. When did that happen? 1.3k words.

Warnings: fluff, domesticity, cringe 80s references, mike being annoying, KISSING, pet names (baby, heartthrob)

The front door slamming shut rattles the frame of the house, but nobody seems to care over the ruckus. Jonathan drops his messenger bag by the bench in the foyer, shucking his shoes and skirting to the kitchen. Joyce flips through a fashion catalog by the phone with her thumb nail perched between her lips.

"She's in El's room," Joyce says while Jonathan swipes an unopened juice pouch off the counter and tucks a pack of toaster strudel under his arm. There's an uproar in the other room from the usual teenage suspects. He's about to make his way upstairs when his mom chuckles.

"Oh, hi, mom, how was your day?" Joyce teases, "Thanks for asking, Jonathan. It was lovely, I bought you those juice pouches and toaster pastries you like. How was yours?" She cocks a brow, and he peeks back into the kitchen.

"Love you, mom."

"Love you, too. Oh, also it's fend night. There are some leftovers and dinners in the freezer. Your brother was craving frozen pizza."

"Sounds good!" he shouts, already halfway up the stairs and down the hall. The cassette deck on El's desk sings something tinny and youthful and he's pretty sure she has it cranked to full volume. You're perched at the foot of her bed with your fingers looping the fluffy strands of her hair into a criss-cross plait. You look over and smile, leaning into the kiss he plants on your cheek.

"Hi," you coo.

"Hi, baby," he says with a lazy smile across his face. "My room?"

"In a sec."

El tuts, "she's braiding my hair." You chuckle, tying off the end of her braid with a sparkly, blue elastic you nabbed from the bottom of the bathroom drawer. He tips the straw of his juice to your lips, and you hum and pat the top of El's head just before hopping to your feet and fleeing the room with Jonathan's hand in yours.

"Thank you!" she calls, but you both know you'd do it for her anytime.

He falls back onto his springy mattress, and you straddle his hips, pry the decadent box from his grasp, and triumphantly fish out a strudel.

"I didn't know Mike was visiting this week," you mumble through a mouthful of pastry.

"Yeah, their spring breaks lined up." Jonathan chugs the rest of his fruit cocktail, crushing the pouch and setting it on his bedside table alongside the discarded pastry box. Then he recoils, nose scrunching: "You met mike?"

You nod, nibbling the strudel in half and pressing bite-sized piece to his mouth, swiping away the stray crumbs that sprinkle his shirt. "It's cinnamon," you whisper. He hums.

"Was he weird?" he worries.

"Only a little," you tease, sweeping his hair off his forehead and leaning down to press a damp kiss to the open space.

"He's a punk."

You shrug. "Only a little."

You split the last piece of pastry between you, making sure you get an even amount of filling and frosting before clinking the edges and popping them into your mouths.

"What were you and El listening to?" he asks.

"Make it big. You know Wham. 'I don't want your freeeeedom!'" you mock, squeaking out the iconic high note, "Mike got it for her."

"Sounded... contemporary," he chuckles, setting his palms into the curve of your hips, hooking his thumbs in the loops of your jeans.

"Yeah, I think she has a thing for George Michael. We've been listening to it on repeat." Your stretch your arms over your head with a yawn.

"He is pretty cute," Jonathan teases.

"Yeah, well," you say with all the casualty of a partly cloudy Wednesday afternoon, "Not as cute as you."

He scoffs, sitting up with you still balanced in his lap. “Shut up,” he huffs.

“No!” You grin and lean in close, mumbling, “heartthrob,” in a kiss to his lips. When you pull back he stares softly into your eyes.

“How long have you been here?”

“My shift ended at two so,” you say, “since then. Why? You tryin’ to send me home, Byers?”

“No,” he whispers, he wouldn’t dream of it, “No, I like that you’re here when I get home.”

You chuckle and drape your arm over his shoulder. “That’s very domestic of you.”

“God, I know”—he rolls his eyes, pressing his palms flat to your back and smiling coyly—“Wait ‘til uou hear how glad I am that everyone likes you so much. And that you like them, too. Even when they’re fucking crazy.”

You peck the corner of his mouth gently, willing a smile to creep across his face.

“I fit right in, don’t I?” you tease. But he doesn’t laugh, enamored by everything you say and do. His fingertips just graze your cheek and his eyes flick down to your mouth.

He sighs. “Like our missing puzzle piece.”

“Yeah,” you reason, “like the piece that gets knocked onto the floor to collect dust for ten years until someone's sweeping and randomly unwedges it from the floorboards only to realize it's from the puzzle they gave away last week.”

“No, more like,” he chuckles, “like the one stuck to the underside of the lid that you only find once youre putting the deconstructed puzzle away.”

You giggle, tilting your head back. Then you sigh, whipping your head back to stare into his eyes, foreheads pressed together.

“Maybe we’re all missing puzzle pieces,” he suggests. It’s whispered. Like it’s a secret and you two are the only ones who will ever know the truth.

You nod. “Oh, we definitely are. Five billion lonely little puzzle pieces waiting for our lost portrait.” Your fingers twirl a lock of his hair, and he holds back a splitting grin. “I can’t believe we’re having this conversation sober.”

He cackles, holding your lower back as he leans slightly. “Wait,” he says, “you’re sober?” You smack his chest, chuckling when he hollers, “I’m kidding! I’m kidding, you're the only person worth getting high with anymore since Argyle's in Utah.”

You pout facetiously, sticking out your lower lip with your brows knitting. “Jonny! So romantic!”

“Yeah, yeah, natural as riding a bike,” he teases. You smile and lean in to kiss him, and he meets your lips sweetly. You pull away and peck the corner of his mouth then his cheek before your doe eyes flick up to his. Your mouth opens to say something, but Mike bursts into the room.

“Ew, gross, at least close the door if you’re going to suck face!”

You turn over your shoulder with a scowl. “You close the door, we’re obviously busy.”

“I don’t even know you!” Mike scoffs.

You hop up and jump to the door wildly, about to slam it just as you squint and say, “Then you’ve got a lot to learn, sonny.”

But before you can close it, Will peeks into the conversation and offers, “C’mon, let’s be diplomatic, people! Mom says come eat and watch Nightmare on Elm Street.”

“Mister Kreugs again?” you say, “Yes, please!” You high-five Will, and he shuffles down the stairs. Mike and El follow. You turn back to see Jonathan lounging back on his bed, eyes closed and just barely smiling to himself.

“Coming, heartthrob?”

“Yeah,” he says, blinking awake, head lulling to gaze at you, “don’t wait up.”

But you run back anyway, grabbing his hand and tugging him to his feet.

“Too bad,” you whisper, giving him a consolation kiss. You get him to the bottom of the stairs before he pulls you back against him right on the last step. He kisses you sweetly and with a smile.

Will shouts from the living room, “Okay, I’m usually pretty tolerant, but please no making out during horror night!”

You chuckle, still holding Jonathan’s hand with his arm lazily around your waist. “Okay, fine. Only because you asked nicely.”

You look back to find Jonathan already staring at you. It still makes you nervous or excited or something. He’s holding you so close, and you can’t help but kiss him one last time.

stranger things masterlist

[luveline]

I always see people writing for a very shy/subby Jonathan, but I’d love to see shy!reader staying over at his for the first time (doesn’t have to be sexual!) & our girl being reassured by him & all of the cuddles

thank you for your request! jonathan x shy!fem!reader arriving for your first sleepover ♡

You think you might have lucked out. Your first boyfriend being Jonathan feels like a storybook tenderness you don't deserve, he's just… so lovely. It terrifies you even though he never could, because you're desperate not to fuck it up. You call him your sweetheart, internally, and not solely for pet names sake — he has a sweet heart. He's unbelievably kind, adorable, funny and smart and level-headed. It doesn't hurt that he's your favourite kind of handsome. 

He's waiting for you as you park your car, standing in front of the closed door with a smile already in place. You know he'd made sure he was the first person you saw to alleviate your nerves. If you knocked the door and his mom answered, you probably would've tripped over every word, giving a terrible first impression in the process. 

"Hey," he says happily. How lovely is that? He's happy to see you the second you're in view. "Is that all your stuff?" 

"Is this not enough?" you ask, looking down at your jansport, suddenly worried. 

He finds this super funny and starts laughing his awful golden laugh. He reaches for your bag, fingers brushing yours as he takes it, and leans down to close the small gap for a kiss. You're not used to kisses, and you don't turn your head up right away. He uses his free hand to encourage you. He doesn't make you feel stupid for it. Just murmurs, "There," and kisses you again. 

He smiles against your lips and pulls back. "It's only two days, so you'll be fine. And I'm not holding you hostage. You can leave if you need something." His hand rubs down your arm. He squeezes your fingers. "But you won't need anything." 

He opens the door and you follow him inside, stiff as a board expecting his mom and his brother, Will. 

It's totally silent. Your lips part in confusion. 

"They went to the store. My mom wanted to make sure there were 'ladies things' in the bathroom." 

"She didn't have to do that." 

"I know. She doesn't mind, she wants you to feel welcome. That's what I want, too." His knuckle bumps yours. "Can't murder you if you never let your guard down." 

He starts down the hall toward what you assume to be his room. Your laugh comes out in a gross little snort that he adores, you can see it in the way his shoulders roll and the smile he shoots you confirms it. 

"Jon, you can't joke about stuff like that," you chide, catching up. 

He pushes open his bedroom door. "I'm not gonna murder you," he assures you. "You know how long it took to clean in here?" 

He puts your jansport on the bottom of the bed and looks at you in the doorway. His cheeky smile turns genuine, and his eyes go soft. 

You're expecting it but still squeal in shock as he rushes you and hugs you so hard your feet lift off the ground. He bends under your weight, digging his nose in your neck. 

"You look so pretty today," he says, like he's mad about it. 

"Jon," you laugh, glad when your feet touch the ground again. "Don't, please, I don't wanna be all sweaty when your mom comes home, she'll think we were doing gross stuff." 

"You don't wanna do gross stuff?" he jokes, before amending, "She won't think that. I've already told her you get flustered at everything." 

"You… talk about me to your mom?" 

His turn to clam up. Jonathan widens the gap between you and avoids your eyes, a nervous, endearing smile on his lips as he says, "Whaaat?" 

He's not very convincing. 

You watch him until he meets your eyes again, your smile soft as warm toffee. 

"I talk about you all the time," he says finally. He breathes out, his shoulders rising and falling. "C'mere." 

He raises his arms. You take the half step required to be back in his embrace, hugging him automatically. He settles his arms over your shoulders, a more casual embrace, and looks down at you. He's quiet. 

"What?" you ask. 

"Sorry. Just… like seeing you here. And I have something to say to you, because I know you'll worry about it, but– it's–" His arm curves up and hooks you in. He fights off his own shyness to accommodate your own, and you hope he knows how valuable that is to you. "Okay, my mom, I'll spare you a rehash of most awkward conversation of my life, but she doesn't expect us to, uh, sleep with the door open." 

You go rigid. "Oh, my god," you say, lips barely moving. 

"I'm sorry, but I just wanted you to know now, I don't expect anything from you, okay? And we could leave the door open if that was what you wanted–" 

"What?" you ask, shocked. 

"Not like that!" He looks like he's midway between laughing and crying, his face a fuzzy shade of pink. "I want you here because I want you close, not because I want– well, I do want– I want what you want," he says, promptly shutting his mouth. 

You take a nice, deep breath, squeezing your arms from between your touching chests to cup his face carefully. You thumb his jaw. 

"You're worse than me, sometimes," you sympathise.

"Yeah," he says. "I am." 

You wrap your arms around his neck with a pleased smile, forcing him to grasp at your shoulders. You aren't expecting to do anything you aren't ready for tonight, but the fact that he'd know you were worried about it, that he would brave such an awkward stepping stone so you didn't have to, means the world. He squeezes you. 

"Shit," he mumbles. "I'm sweating. She's definitely gonna think we were doing gross stuff." 

It's funny until you hear the front door open.

[blkgirlsreadfanfic2]

dating jonathan byers headcanons

pairing: jonathan byers x black!fem!reader

description: a few headcanons i have about dating jonathan byers (inspired by this moodboard)

let me know if you want a fic or blurb based on any of these!

sweetest boyfriend you will ever meet

picks flowers for you while he’s walking

if he’s in the store and sees your favorite snack, he would buy it in a HEARTBEAT

very big on physical touch

holding your hand, putting an arm around your shoulder, hand on your thigh while driving

random kisses are something you’ll have to get used to

loves kissing your hand as a form of reassurance

you just finished venting about a bad day? he hugs you and kisses your hand and tells you everything will be alright

despite all this, he’s not a huge PDA fan. he may give you a small kiss here and there, but most of his public affection ends at holding your hand and leaning a head on your shoulder

will make you mixtapes for any and every occasion

you’re studying for finals? he makes a tape of all the best study music

you went to a concert? he makes a mixtape of the set list from the show

he takes random photos of you ALL THE TIME

when he has to submit a portfolio for college applications, the majority of them are shots of you

gifts you a photo album for one of your birthdays

loves watching you do your hair

he tried learning how one day - let’s just say it did not go well

you meet his family about four months in

joyce and will love you, which is really important to jonathan

you’re often at the byers’ house for dinner

dates with jonathan are often simple yet amazing

i’m talking picnics, movie nights, late night drives, ice cream, photo shoots, thrifting, etc.

he is an absolute gem when he meets your family

your guardians approve, and he’s invited to every cookout, reunion, etc

[mossyivy]

𝗡/𝗦𝗙𝗪 𝗔𝗹𝗽𝗵𝗮𝗯𝗲𝘁

Eddie Munson, Jonathan Byers, Robin Buckley, Steve Harrington x Reader

𓆩Eddie Munson𓆪

ᗢ𝗦𝗙𝗪

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Personally I feel like Eddie isn't a massive physical affection kind of guy. PDA is a no go for him with the exception of hand holding and the occasional kiss on the cheek or lips if he's feeling generous.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Let's be honest, this friendship has to have started through a mutual interest or a friend of a friend type situation.

Like maybe you frequent a game shop Eddie likes but can't shop at frequently. An you know the store inside out, better than the own employees do. You point him in the right direction of new stuff the store just got in or even the sales rack.

He starts talking your ear off about the latest D&D manual and suddenly he's asking for your home phone number so he can invite you to some of his future campaigns he hosts at his trailer.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Although I don't think Eddie is a big affection guy, he does like cuddling. But he has to be the big spoon or at least holding you to his chest in some fashion. If not, it's just uncomfortable and too awkward to him to enjoy it

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

I think Eddie craves connection but doesn't want to quite admit it. But once he meets "the one" it's like he's in a whole new world and understands why people talk about marriage.

As for cooking, Eddie grew up in an environment of needing to get by constantly. (We love Uncle Wayne, best uncle ever.) And I'm not 100% sure where Eddie would exactly fall.

But I do know this mf is the king over microwave meals or cooking something with step by step instructions. Mostly because I think he can't focus long enough to follow an actual recipe versus something premade.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Young Eddie would have no problem dropping someone like a sack of potatoes.

Older Eddie would take a lot to get to the point of loving someone so I think he'd really struggle breaking up with someone if the time came. But if it did come to that (as much as I hate to admit it) I don't think he'd be able to do it face to face and probably do it over the phone.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

(See Domestic for the commitment part of this question)

Eddie would definitely be the type of guy to just refer to his partner as his wife/husband or anything else gender non-conforming.

But one day Eddie would probably just drop the question on you and you'd end up just getting papers signed instead of having a massive wedding or something.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Physically Eddie is gentle (unless...)

Emotionally... I feel like Eddie is too blunt for his own good. Even if he's not intending to be an asshole he just comes off that way by nature of his personality. A relationship with him is not for the faint of heart.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Like I said before affection isn't really something Eddie thrives at BUT I do believe this man is a hugger. The kinda guy that bear hugs you and lifts you off the ground if he hasn't seen you in a while.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

When Eddie falls, he falls hard. But my God is he emotionally constipated...

I feel like it take him a good few months to say "I love you". Unless his partner says it first then I think he'd have zero problems with saying it. Maybe even saying it more often than his partner.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

I don't think Eddie gets jealous per say. But I do think he has his boughts of thinking he isn't good enough for his partner.

Or even possibly just waiting for the "inevitable" to happen (i.e. being broken up with)

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Eddie is not experienced in the slightest...(don't come for me, we love him but be honest with yourselves he was "different" and that was frowned upon in the 80s)

At first he'd probably stick with simple pecks but slowly learn what you like and adjust to that following your lead.

I really do believe Eddie is the kinda dude to squish his partners face and give them a hard kiss on the cheek until their face scrunches up. Which makes him laugh before going back to doing whatever he was doing.

But for him... He likes being kissed on the back of his hands. Think about it, his hands are probably all calloused from playing guitar for so long and if you can appreciate their beauty... He'd melt!

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Eddie is fun uncle material. He'd entertain the hell out of kids. Probably be the one little kids would run to with books because he's not afraid to do goofy voices or act out things from the book while reading.

Definitely would be adored by children with how imaginative he is alone.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Eddie gives me grumpy in the morning vibes. If you wake him up before noon on weekends you're definitely getting dirty looks unless it's life or death.

But when he does get up he's the one making the coffee strong enough to grow hair on Sasquatch's chest.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Eddie is a night person. If he's not doing gigs at the Hideout he's at home practice or watching movies with you. I imagine he probably has an extensive collection of recorded VHS' of the most random ass movies you could think of.

And only half of them are labeled. So you two could be watching the original Halloween movie and suddenly after it's over you get the opening credits to Risky Business out of nowhere.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Eddie is mostly an open book when it comes to random sprinkles of information about himself. But feelings take a while.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Eddie is probably a 50/50 kinda guy. He can have the patience of a saint and then the next day he's irritated by something taking too long in the microwave.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Eddie has a hard time remembering things (except your birthday, he most definitely wrote that on his arm or hand the second you gave him that information) but if someone asked him about a random obscure thing about you he'd be able to rattle off the most weird shit possible.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

Probably when one of you confessed first. Most likely because that was the biggest relief Eddie's felt in ages but he was also incredibly happy.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Eddie probably is protective to a fault (I mean c'mon look at what he's been through)

When it comes to defending you he's more than happy to step up and get in between you and whoever is trying to cause problems.

Now could he win a fight? Depends. If the person he's fighting is massive, no. But if it's equal grounds, there's no doubt in my mind he could lay someone out.

But Eddie getting protected is different. He would most likely just pull you out of the situation of you defending his honor and tell you how it wasn't worth arguing with someone like that. Regardless he'd be thankful though.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

He's the epitome of try. Eddie isn't a massive romantic by nature but he sure tries his damn best to make his partner happy.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Leaving his shit all over the place! This man is a mess when it comes to keeping places tidy.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Eddie doesn't give a shit how people look at him. He solely dresses for himself and himself alone unless it's a special occasion.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

As much as I'd like to say yes, I really think Eddie could go his entire life without having a partner. Especially with the career he wants to have in the future.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

He'd most definitely make you look through his collection of old guitar picks and pick your favorite one.

Once you did you'd see him messing with it for a while and come back to you later with it tied to a piece of twine and into a makeshift necklace.

Just so you could have a piece of him whenever he's not around.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Judgemental people, if he so much as got a sign of his partner being judgemental he'd be out of there in record time.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

Definitely passes out around 4am every night and wonders why he's always so exhausted.

But also somehow the type of guy to take a 45 minute nap and act like he slept for 8 hours.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

ᗢ𝗡𝗦𝗙𝗪

A = Aftercare (what they're like after sex)

Attentive. Probably likes to spoon and play with his partners hair.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner's)

Chest guy... Yes, yes. Eddie is a boob man. He's a very simple man, he sees booba he's happy.

Now his favorite body part of his own (I know I mentioned this already but shhhh) his hands. Definitely his hands, he's got years of playing guitar built on those things. He's damn proud of them.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Strongest pullout game in the West. Not only does he live of the edge of almost cumming inside of his partner but he'd be the last guy to deny it really does feel better raw.

He's clean and knows you are too. Knows his partner takes proper precautions for birth control if needed so why mess with a good thing?

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Eddie is a frequent masturbater. It started as a stress relief thing and once he started seeing someone just became a habit when he starts thinking of them often.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they're doing?)

I wouldn't say Eddie is experienced but very interested in making the experience the best it can be for whoever he's with.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Without a doubt in my mind it's cowgirl. He just really enjoys watching his partner riding him and the reaction they have whenever he bucks his own hips up to match their pace.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Eddie is definitely cracking jokes during sex. You can't even count the times he's tossed you onto his bed onto to flop next to you and give the usual "You come here often" gag. An even though you've heard it dozens of times the look on his face, that cheeky grin he gives everytime just makes you laugh.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

I think Eddie wouldn't care to keep himself trimmed unless his partner asked him too since his hair is so damn thick and curly.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

A little goofy but keeping his jokes to a minimum to not ruin the moment completely.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

(See Dirty Secret)

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Bondage (to you), Hair Pulling (to him), Dirty talk (both ways)

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

As much as a risk taker I think Eddie is I don't think he'd like adventuring outside the bedroom. Maybe the back of his van if you're both feeling impatient enough to not wait till you get home.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Probably his partners outfit choices. Wether it's fishnets and a tight skirt or just walking around in his old band T-shirts he just finds his eyes constantly wandering to you.

N = No (something they wouldn't do, turn offs)

No exhibitionism

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

I'd say it's about 50/50. Maybe slightly leaning towards giving because he really enjoys watching his partner enjoy the fruits of his labor a little bit more than getting something of his own.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Eddie is definitely a slow and sensual type of guy. He likes to take his time and unravel every part of his partner and make the moment another time to remember when their brain wanders the next day.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Don't think he's a fan of them. Like I said he likes to take his time.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Eddie is definitely open to experiment. He even encourages it.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Since Eddie isn't really the athletic type I think he's good for at least 2 rounds without any real issue.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Eddie most definitely has a collection of toys stuffed under his bed in a box. Hell he even has his handcuffs proudly on display on the rail of his bed.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Eddie is a massive tease. He's definitely the type to walk up behind his partner when they're doing something and suddenly his hands are under the bottom on your shirt. Playing with the waistband of whatever bottoms you're wearing at the moment. Ghosting ever so lightly as his thumbs pull at the band and make it snap against your skin.

All while his head is sat on your shoulder watching what you're doing and talking about mundane stuff.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Eddie is mostly quiet, with the exception of heavy breathing and the occasional grunt or groan.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Loves it when you call him Sir.

Accidentally found out when you were being sarcastic in response to something he said with "Yes Sir." And he immediately got hard and a little bit embarrassed.

X = X-ray (let's see what's going on under those clothes)

Eddie to me is one of those skinny nerdy white boys that just be packing heat for no damn reason... Shower not a grower at a solid 7.5 inches and girthy as a mother fucker

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Probably pretty average. Maybe craves actual sex 2-3 times a week.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Eddie has maybe 10 minutes tops in him after sex. He makes sure you're okay and taken care of and then suddenly he's sleeping like a hibernating bear.

𓆩Jonathan Byers𓆪

ᗢ𝗦𝗙𝗪

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Jonathan is a rather private guy so PDA is usually a no go for him. But when you guys are alone or among good company he's decently affectionate.

More often than not he'd probably be holding your hand just has a hand on you some how.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Jonathan is an amazing friend but it takes a lot for him to consider someone a friend. I have a feeling he's a life long friend kind of guy.

So his friendship started in early childhood (probably Kindergarten or 1st/2nd grade) and you two basically grew up together. Most definitely one of those friendships where you'd call his family, your family by extension.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Jonathan is definitely a cuddler. He'd probably want to be big spoon out of habit but if you asked he'd be more than happy to let you hold him.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

He would most definitely want to settle down but not until his late 20s/early 30s. Jonathan loves his family dearly and definitely would want one of his own someday.

Jonathan is extremely self sufficient. He can do most house work (I think he really hates doing laundry though) and cooks extremely well from living as basically a second parent to his younger brother.

He also strikes me as someone who could pull together very cheap meal that are extremely good.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

As we saw his previous relationships... (*Cough, cough* Nancy *cough*) He'd probably ride that relationship until you break up with him or it dies. Unless something major happened or you fuck up badly he's not letting you go.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Jonathan to me would make it very clear how much he wants to marry his partner the second he starts thinking about it. He'd probably propose and you two would be engaged for a few years and slowly save up for your perfect little wedding surrounded by everyone you care about.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

He's quite literally the epitome of gentle in every way. Especially with how he grew up with his parents constantly arguing and with how his father was, he'd want to be the exact opposite of him.

Physically, Emotionally and verbally all around Jonathan is gentle.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Jonathan adores hugs! He'd be the kind of boyfriend to hug his partner constantly and maybe cling just a little bit but not too much.

At the beginning of a relationship though he'd be too in his own head to hug but would eventually work up the courage to ask. But once he got that first one it be hard to get him to not want to hug you.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

I can imagine Jonathan being in love before even getting into a relationship with someone.

Would probably just blurt it out haphazardly one day and you say it back. Followed by a surprised stare from him, forming into a smile. You'd have a conversation oh what exactly you both meant by it and now you're together...

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Much like Eddie, I don't think Jonathan gets jealous but he does think he isn't good enough for his partner. Maybe even would fear that he's being "too much" on occasion and wonder if he's going to lose you.

But since Jonathan isn't emotionally constipated he voiced his concerns with his partner and actually talks it out. To which he is reassured and knows you love him very much.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Jonathan is definitely a soft kisser. Slow, passionate and full of love everytime his lips touch yours.

He's definitely a temple kisser. But for him, he would probably not admit it but he really likes when you rub your nose with his after a kiss on the lips.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Great with kids, better with older kids though. He is a family man after all, he definitely had to have picked up something from watching his Mom take care of him and his brother growing up.

But babies... Babies are his downfall. I think he'd be so scared of dropping a baby or hurting them by not holding them propy. That it takes a lot of time for him to not be nervous around babies anymore.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Younger Jonathan isn't much of a morning person. Struggles getting up in the morning but pushes through it.

Older Jonathan is most definitely a morning person through and through. He's up at the ass crack of dawn to go take pictures of nature and back in enough time to make his partner breakfast and head to work.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Night's with Jonathan consist of him reading poetry while you do your own thing in the same room as him. You two don't need to constantly do activities together to spend time together. Merely being in the same room is enough to make you both happy.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Once you get past the threshold of Jonathan's trust he's an open book to you. If he trusts you, he's telling you everything and anything you're curious about. But only if you ask.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Jonathan has the patience of tired mother.

Very patient but once he's past the boiling point it's best to just leave him alone for a little while.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Knows you like the back of his hand. Jonathan is the observant type so most of his information on you is just him watching your actions and not him asking.

Often you'd be surprised to get a random little gift of something practical because he noticed you were in need of it.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

Probably your first anniversary together? Jonathan would make sure that was the most romantic night he's ever shown you and continue to sweep you off your feet from that point on.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Jonathan is definitely protective. He's a quiet guy who doesn't talk often but if something happens he's more than willing to step in an defend the one he loves. We already know Jonathan can hold his own in a fight.

But for him, Jonathan usually doesn't expect to be protected he's use to being the protector. Probably wouldn't know how to process it at first because no one outside of his family has stood up for him before.

Eventually he'd be thankful though.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Jonathan is really caring in general so I don't think he'd really see his good treatment of his partner as "putting in effort" and just simply view it as everyday things he does.

But Jonathan is extremely thoughtful and tends to get more practical gifts over shiny and new things.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Being too quiet. I know I've said Jonathan is in touch with his emotions but he still has his boughts of holding in things he thinks are too heavy.

Almost to the point where he tends to boil over and spill his guts every once in a while.

Aside from emotional things I think Jonathan would have a hard time letting go of sentimental things like random movie ticket stubs from dates you've been on, to a sweater that could be used as a rag it's so old and beat up. But he refuses to get rid of it because it was a gift from your first anniversary together.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Jonathan doesn't think he's attractive and is honestly baffled how he caught your eye in the first place. But he does try to look his best when leaving the house. And goes the absolute extra mile when going out with his partner.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Yes. Jonathan adores his partner more than anything and if he were to lose them he probably wouldn't know what to do with himself.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Absolutely a coupon queen and sales rack fiend.

I could totally see Jonathan sitting at the kitchen table with a binder and the Sunday paper clipping coupons to save as much money as possible.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Someone who doesn't share his music taste. Jonathan would be the old guy to say "kids these days don't know good music anymore" and then turn on The Cure.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

Light sleeper, sleeps on his side most of the time and every little noise he hears his eyes open immediately.

More often than not Jonathan probably isn't getting a full 8 hours of sleep a night, most likely 6 hours at best.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

ᗢ𝗡𝗦𝗙𝗪

A = Aftercare (what they're like after sex)

The most attentive man on the planet. Cleans up, checks in with you constantly, gets you water and makes you at least eat a small snack after everything. Probably all while cuddling up to you and giving you little kisses in the process.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner's)

Jonathan most definitely loves you as a whole but really admires your face and how beautiful he thinks you are. And enjoys how expressive you can be.

If someone asked Jonathan what he liked about himself physically he probably wouldn't know how to answer the question. But if he really thought about it he would most likely pick his eyes.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Cumming inside his partner is an immediate no. Probably a real stickler about using condoms and still wanting his partner to take precautions of their own just to be safe.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Definitely has a polaroid of you naked that he said he got rid of ages ago. But everytime he tried throwing it out he just stared at it and couldn't bring himself to do it because of how beautiful he thought you were in the moment.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they're doing?)

Jonathan knows what he's doing most of the time but really appreciates a partner who's willing to be vocal and tell him where he can improve but also praise him when he's doing well.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

I know it's boring but missionary. Mostly because he likes looking at your face and seeing that you're enjoying yourself to the best of his abilities.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Serious, if you crack a joke during sex he'll probably laugh but not say one back and just continue on with everything. Needs to concentrate somewhat so he can stay in the right headspace.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Keeps himself trimmed after getting into a relationship.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Romantic and gentle during. Doesn't care much for rough treatment but loves seeing you enjoy yourself more than anything.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Only masturbates when stressed or hasn't had sex in a while.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Sensory deprivation (both), Praise (to him), Edging (to you)

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Leaving the bedroom is fine but the house? No. Definitely not. But if he had to pick a favorite place probably the living room on the couch. There's just something about the small space he really enjoys.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

You teasing him. Jonathan thrives on you teasing him with your body or even just saying something he wouldn't expect.

N = No (something they wouldn't do, turn offs)

No exhibitionism, no slapping or hitting of any kind

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Jonathan is definitely a giver more than a receiver. 25/75. He finds it awkward looking down at you when you go down on him that he can't focus enough to let himself feel good. So if he does get head he needs to be blindfolded so he doesn't have to worry about looking at you.

But when he goes down on you... The man acts like it's the last time he's ever going to see you every single time. Damn near rips your soul out of your body with how well this man can work his tongue.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Slow and sensual all the way. Really enjoys taking his time and being thorough with everything.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

(See Pace)

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Jonathan is open to experimenting as long as it doesn't include pain. He can't bring himself to even think about laying a hand on you in that way.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Jonathan makes sure to get you to cum at least twice before he even lets you near his dick. He could definitely go 3 rounds, has a slow refractory period.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

I don't think Jonathan has any toys but if he did it probably just be something simple like those finger sleeves with the bumps all over them.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Jonathan isn't the teasing type but he enjoys being teased a lot more than he'd like to admit.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Definitely the whimpering type. Not super loud but you'll definitely hear him every once in a while.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Jonathan is a Sub. There's no doubt in my mind that when it comes being in charge he lets you call the shots.

X = X-ray (let's see what's going on under those clothes)

Ah yes, another skinny nerdy white boy packing heat. Grower not a shower. Definitely has the appearance of an average joe but when you get him going, stands at 8 inches at least.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Jonathan isn't super driven by sex but he enjoys having sex at least twice a week. Other than that it's more of a "when you're in the mood" type of thing.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He stays awake for quite a while. Even if you're out like a light he's still holding you and watching you sleep for a while.

𓆩Robin Buckley𓆪

ᗢ𝗦𝗙𝗪

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Robin is moderately affectionate. She's happy to hold hands or hug in public but kissing is private or in the right company (a gay in the 80s... Need I say more?)

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

For Robin you'd definitely become friends because you frequent her job. After renting tons of videos you would start calling eachother by first names and just start talking about your shared interests. Become quick friends.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Robin isn't much of a cuddler but I do think she wouldn't mind it if her partner asked for it. But she definitely prefers be little spoon so her arms are free to move about while she talks.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

She'd definitely want to settle down. I could picture her getting a quiet little condo with a few cats.

Robin, surprisingly, is really good at cooking. But cleaning she can't focus long enough to fully finish each task. She gets bored really easily.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Robin would struggle but I feel like she could break up with someone. And it have to be over something major for her to end a relationship.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Robin falls hard and fast. Would definitely call her partner her wife (or something gender non-conforming) within a few months of being together as a joke between the two of you. But deep down she knows if she could she would marry you ina heart beat.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Robin is physically gentle but like Eddie can be harsh without intending to be. Her mouth moves faster than her brain can sometimes and she just talks without thinking.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Loves hug, absolute hug machine. Will run in for a hug and squeeze you til you can't breathe.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Like I said, when she falls she falls hard. And Robin can talk about her emotions pretty easily so I could see her saying "I love you" within 6-8 weeks of dating.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Robin is the jealous type... Hands down she doesn't like it when girls talk to you but she isn't territorial about you, just scared someone with swoop in and try being better than her.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Very soft, super soft lips. Always using chapstick because she forgets to drink water most of the time.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Young kids and Robin don't mix well. She finds them mostly irritating but she does have a soft spot for babies.

Older kids she doesn't mind and has quickly gotten use to due to being around the gang so often.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Struggle bus rider in the morning. Hates mornings, finds it difficult to wake up and tends to run late most of the time in the morning unless someone else is waking her up.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Robin is definitely a night person. Tends to stay up pretty late doing random shit around the house.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Robin is very open about herself and tends to talk more than necessary. She gives up information about herself without really thinking about it.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Very impatient if it's something she doesn't enjoy something. Robin tends to struggle with waiting without needing something to entertain her.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Robin would retain important information (important dates, favorite colors/animals, possible allergies) but if someone asked her on the spot it would evaporate from her brain as if she never had the information in the first place.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

Your first real date. Robin would set up a picnic in a nice clearing in the woods. You two had a romantic time and it also ended in your first kiss.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Robin isn't super protective of her partner but isn't scared to throw dirty looks at people who try starting trouble.

You on the other hand tend to be protective over Robin. She doesn't need to be coddled but quite enjoys being with someone protective.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Robin pulls out all the stops when it comes to her partner. Really thoughtful and fancy gifts. Cooks meals for you constantly and enjoys watching you eat what she's made for you.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Never on time/Gets side tracked easily. Though it's not necessarily her fault she tends to not have the best concept of time. It's so bad you've gotten into the habit of telling her you'll be leaving for places an hour in advance just in case.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Robin always wants to look her best for her partner. Constantly preening herself as she looks at her reflection while getting ready to see you.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Yes, Robin loves you with her entire heart. And she's attached now so being without you would suck for her.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Robin tends to find random things while out of the house and just picking them up off the ground.

Mostly she brings home rocks she finds cool and has a collection.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

People who are too serious. Anyone who gets too serious when it's not needed she doesn't want to be around. Robin understands needing to be serious but not all the time.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

Robin tends to stay up later at night. Probably to around 2am, but ends up sleeping til noon or maybe longer if you let her.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

ᗢ𝗡𝗦𝗙𝗪

A = Aftercare (what they're like after sex)

More than likely Robin will be wide awake still and want to do something together (watch a movie, cuddle up, maybe cook a meal) This is when Robin is at her clingiest and isn't afraid to show it by sticking to you constantly. (Not that you mind it)

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner's)

Your stomach, soft or not the few times Robin doesn't mind cuddling up to you she lays her head on your stomach and enjoys the comfort of it.

For Robin it's her smile. She simply just has a very beautiful smile that can and should be appreciated.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

When you first met Robin she was completely untouched, never even masturbated before. But once you started dating you showed her how to get off.

Now she has a slight obsession with getting her partner off by tribbing most of the time.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Nothing gets Robin going more than giving her compliments. And if you dare to call her a good girl she'll be putty in your hands.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they're doing?)

Very in experienced when you met. Probably only kissed before.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

(See Cum)

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Robin would be cracking jokes constantly. Probably so often it would break both of your focus unless you shut her up.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Extremely well groomed.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Robin would be goofy most of the time but once you're in the moment everything becomes sensual over time.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Now that she knows what she's doing, Robin tends to masturbate once in a while but would likely prefer sex.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Praise (to her), face sitting (both ways), hair pulling (to you)

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Definitely would like it all around the house, back of a car maybe even in the bathroom of a party you're at. But her favorite place would be in the shower.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Just being close to her partner and teasing her. She's pretty easy to get riled up.

N = No (something they wouldn't do, turn offs)

No Anal, no painful stuff

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

50/50 but part of me really thinks she'd like receiving a lot more.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

(See Goofy)

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Robin would be down for quickies.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

I could see her being paranoid about getting caught but once you reassure her she would enjoy herself and not really think about being caught.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Robin bounces back pretty quickly and has a lot of energy so I could see her going for a while.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

I could see Robin buying a double ended dildo or even one of those little vibrators that looks like lipsticks.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Robin isn't much of a tease but just very forward with what she wants.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

She's definitely a little louder when moaning. She's talkative by nature so I could see her being noisy.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Robin enjoys riding your thigh. So much that you end up buying a grind mat just for her.

X = X-ray (let's see what's going on under those clothes)

Robin probably has a smaller chest (b-cup maybe?) But has nice round hips.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Robin doesn't have a high sex drive but if you were to ask she'd be more than willing to go.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

She's a ball of energy so she'll be up for quite a while. Probably off do whatever activity she enjoys until the early hours of the morning and then falling asleep.

𓆩Steve Harrington𓆪

ᗢ𝗦𝗙𝗪

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Steve is affectionate mostly by words not actions. Tends to baby you (kind of)

But when he does things for you it's weirdly subtle stuff. Like tying your shoes, taking you out, buying you stuff he knows you like or just random little trinkets as "just because" gifts.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

He's very much a mom friend.

Constantly checks in on friends by asking if they're okay. He always asks you the most though. Plus he forces food and drinks on you whenever he's around so he knows you're definitely eating.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Steve probably isn't much of a cuddler but if you're having a rough day (or if he is) he's gonna want to cuddle. Prefers to hold you to his chest/facing eachother.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Steve is gonna want to put a ring on your finger the moment it feels appropriate. Probably would start talking about having a family together after being together for 6 months.

Fantastic at cleaning! Cooking?

...Steve is terrible at cooking. Man could burn water somehow. He can somehow burn something but have it still be raw in the middle.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Steve could end a relationship. It would crush him to dump someone who he loves regardless of what happens but he could do it.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

(See Domestic)

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Both physically and emotionally Steve is gentle. Comes off very harsh but never actually says anything that would be hurtful or mean.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Steve doesn't care for cuddling often but hugs. He loves hugs. Would be the kind of boyfriend who would hug you from behind when just standing somewhere.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

From past experiences (*cough, cough* Nancy again *cough) he'd probably be hesitant from saying it at first but if y said it before he did he'd be elated.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Oh he's definitely a jealous guy. Doesn't mind you hanging out with people (obviously) but if he sees someone hitting on his partner he's not gonna happy. Probably would go about flaunting how much he can hug/kiss/touch you in front of whoever decided to try talking to you. Just to rub it in that you're taken.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Steve is a fantastic kisser, definitely the best on the list from how much practice he's had. Like Robin he moisturizes, not because he doesn't drink water but he just wants to make sure his lips don't get dry or chapped.

He's a forehead kisser and I will die on this hill. He'd take your face in his hands and kiss your forehead. All while telling you how much he loves you.

Enjoys cheek kisses but specifically on his little beauty marks the most.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

We've all seen how Steve is basically mother hen with the Party. Babies adore him, small kids like him but he would probably find them irritating with the vast amount of questions they ask. Doesn't mean he doesn't have the patience for them though.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Steve wakes up early, but my god is he never on time in the mornings. Definitely hogs the bathroom just trying to get his hair to look right, it's gotten so bad you'd buy a vanity for this man to do his hair at out of fear of your bladder exploding eventually.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Beauty routines, and in bed by 11 at the latest, midnight if he really wants to push it.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

It would take a lot of trust for Steve to open up about himself. He's had a bad childhood and craves a family to be around but also has difficulty trusting just anyone with his past.

But once you break past that hard shell he's open and honest about everything he's been through.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Very patient. He has to be since he's the designated babysitter for the Party. Honestly if he wasn't as patient as he is he'd probably be balding by now from all the stress he'd be under.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Knows you like no one else. Pays extra attention to all your likes and dislikes. Probably even ends up correcting others when they say you like something or get something about you wrong.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

The first time you said "I love you".

You said it first in passing like it was nothing and he'd stand there stunned for a second. Ask you to repeat yourself and you would. Word for word with a smile to match your confession. He'd nod along with what you said, say it back before you continue the conversation and keeping a straight face.

But on the inside he'd be doing cartwheels and screaming with joy over it.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Very protective. Steve would be the kind of boyfriend to pull you closer or step in front of you if there's a problem. He may not have the best track record when it comes to fighting but he sure has the spirit.

But if roles were reversed and someone said something bad about Steve an you jumped down their throat defending him... Well he'd be shocked. He's so use to having people expect him to defend himself he wouldn't know what to say hearing someone defending him.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Steve is putting in THE MOST effort. At anytime he needs or wants to get you a gift he knows exactly what to get.

And not all of his gifts are practically but they're something he knows you'd like everytime.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Withdrawals after arguments. Steve isn't the most in touch with his feelings all the time and would probably have difficulty talking over issues with you after an argument but he'd try after taking time to cool off.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

I love Steve but oh my God he's like a bird at times...

Always preening himself to make sure he looks good for his partner or just in general. An no amount of reassurance of how attractive you find him even when he's a mess can make him calm down with it.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Yes, like Robin, once he's attached he has a hard time detaching (*insert 3rd Nancy mention here*). If anything happens to his partner or if y'all broke up it would honestly devastate him. He'd be pretty lost for a while only because of how much love he has for you.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

(Listen... I will go to bat for this headcanon, you can rip it from my cold dead hands!!!)

He'd be a fantastic teacher. Probably English or History teacher at Hawkins Middle School. Plus he'd be a coach of some kind. Even fills in for the Highschool Gym classes on occasion if needed.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Stuck up people. They'd remind him too much of his past self and how much of an asshole he use to be.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

Sleeps like a rock most of the time but if you wake him up he does that scared mom gasp and jolt up. Like everything is emergency... But you're just waking him up cause he's hogging the blankets or something.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

ᗢ𝗡𝗦𝗙𝗪

A = Aftercare (what they're like after sex)

Aftercare KING! Holding you to his chest with rubbing your back. Gives you soft kisses on the head and already had water prepared for after. Probably would want to take a warm bath together afterwards and just enjoy eachothers company.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner's)

Steve is an ass man... Touching it, squeezing it, smacks as he walks by just to mess with you. Just loves your ass with his whole heart.

For him... Surprisingly his arms. Steve is most definitely a lot stronger than he appears. His clothes tend to be a little baggy but he's got some nice arms that look even better when he's lifting something.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

This man would want to cum in side you any chance you let him. He's somewhat territorial and would probably see it as some way of marking his territory but also fulfilling another need itching inside him.

But if you weren't exactly happy with the idea of that he'd probably wear condoms or just finish on you.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Claims to be a Dom but is a service switch. He just really enjoys your reactions more than anything.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they're doing?)

Steve is the most experienced person on the list. He's dated a lot of people, slept with a few girls. Had at least 1 girlfriend. He definitely knows what he's doing when it comes down to it.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Doggy style, good position for your pleasure and he gets the perfect angle to smack your ass whenever he wants to.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

No Steve is serious. Can't crack a joke when he's in his head about performing well and making sure you're feeling the best he can give you.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

If you saw Steve before he dove into the lake in season 4 we know that man isn't shaving. Trimmed a bit maybe but nothing too major.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Very sensual and romantic. Slow in his actions and always has a hand on you somewhere.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Since getting in a relationship I think Steve doesn't see the need to masturbate. If he wants to get off he'll just ask or try getting you in the mood (taking concent into consideration of course).

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Breeding kink (to you), edging (to him), degradation (to you)

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Steve is not like anyone else on this list. He does not give a fuck where you two are if either are you are horny it's being dealt with asap.

Most of your experiences end up in a bed but if he had to pick a favorite place it probably the kitchen. There's been many of times you've ended up bent over a counter with him behind you in some fashion.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Just his partner doing mundane everyday things. One second he's just appreciating having you in his life and suddenly his brain is just shifting to the thought of how much he wants to stay with you forever and start a family with you. An something in him just keeps scratching at his brain with the thoughts of fucking you.

N = No (something they wouldn't do, turn offs)

No choking or cuckolding

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Prefers receiving because he prefers usithis hands on you and talking you through making you feel good instead.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Starts slow but sometimes gets carried away an becomes fast and rough. But you can be guaranteed that Steve isn't leaving you high and dry.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Steve usually refers taking his time but sometimes he just can't.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

(See Location)

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Steve is in good shape so I'd imagine he can go for a while. I'd say 3-4 rounds if he's really in the mood.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Definitely owns a vibrator, probably an egg vibrator he likes using for extra stimulation when he's inside his partner.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Oh Steve is a massive tease. He'd go as far as to mock you if you end up trying to beg for him to touch you even. He'd never pass up the chance to degrade you.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Listen... Steve is probably still stuck in the whole stigma of "men shouldn't moan" but when you're on top of him... It's like he becomes a completely different person. Whiny, moaning mess who can't seem to keep him mouth shut for long.

Tries to save face by shit talking but gets shut up pretty quickly with a grind of your hips on him.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Steve as multiple sex mix tapes... No I will not be further explaining this.

X = X-ray (let's see what's going on under those clothes)

Steve carries the confidence of a guy with a massive dick. But honestly I think he's just above average but not huge. So I'll just say 7 inches. Definitely a shower.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Steve has a high sex drive. Craves you constantly but refrains out of fear of being way too much.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

His main concern after sex is making sure you're okay even if he's exhausted he stays awake. But the second he realizes you're out he's down for the count and sleeps like a log.

[etherealxwitch]

going on a date with jonathan requested by @onegirlmanytales <3

[clown420cunt]

Sweet thoughts and melted popsicles - Jonathan x fem!reader

Summery: You ever just admired your friends for who they are?

In which Jonathan, argyle and reader is high out of their minds.

Warnings: drug use! It’s just weed.

Tags: Jonathan x fem!reader, Alt!Reader, stoner!Reader, stoner!Jonathan, stoner!Argyle, Comfort, Friendship, friendly admiration, FLUFF.

Masterlist

Word count: 1K

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It started out as him just staring into space, or that’s what he thought until his mind court up with what he was looking at.

She was just laying there. On the sofa covered in a heap of pillows and a couple of blankets.

Snoozing, With the most blissful expression upon her features.

He didn’t pay attention to the small pile of drool that was collecting on one of the pillows she had placed her head on before succumbing to the tiredness of the blend they were smoking.

Her shirt had started to rise up a bit exposing a stripe of skin where her sweatpants ended, normally you wouldn’t catch her in this type of clothes but being in the comfort of her own space she didn’t much care and it was something he was immensely thankful for.

No makeup, no heavy clothes fit for making a statement anywhere she went.

To show off how much she didn’t wanna be oppressed to wear whatever the magazine told you every poser for miles should wear to fit in.

It was truly her in her most relaxed state of mind and body and she was beautiful.

He didn’t know when he started to look at her in this way. As a comfort, as a place to escape to when school or his own mind became to much to bare.

The Pink Floyd vinyl she put on before falling into this peaceful state of mind came to an end, and for a second he thought he should get up to turn it over again so they could listen to the album one more time, but his body didn’t care to respond as he continued to admire the girl laying opposite him just a coffee table away.

The beanbag he was sitting in grounding him as another 5 minutes passed without him knowing.

The soft carpet on the floor touching his bare feet sending immense bliss through him as it became the only thing he could focus on as he moved them over it.

She moved her head a bit, closing her mouth stopping the puddle on the pillow from becoming bigger.

His focus once again turning to her sleeping form as he continued to stare into space.

Now and again noticing a hair out of place or how deeply she was breathing. No thoughts coming or going in this span of time, just pure clam.

His attention once again shifted but this time it was towards the door of the basement they were in.

Argyle was making his way down the stairs he once, an hour ago, ascended.

Carrying different bags of chips and gummies, as well as the popsicles she requested before clocking out a mere 10 minutes after he left.

Pushing what was on the table to the side, a couple of candy rappers landing on the carpet, he dumbed the armful of snacks on the unstable surface of the table she stole from the sidewalk about a month ago, the wooden top still not secured to the metal form it was laying on.

Walking to the end of the sofa he started to push her feet away form the end of the couch making room for himself to sit but also making her stir and wake-up from the impromptu nap.

Instantly shifting the blissful expression to a much more confuses one.

Looking around trying to figure out what woke her up, she spot Argyle and mumbled something mostly incoherent about how he could have taken the other beanbag, to which he responds with a more understandable sentence of “this spot was closer to the bong and the table, dude”.

As he begins to set up his next bowl, she notice the now snack filled table and sit up further.

Argyle passes her the now half melted popsicles. Staring at the box she looks over the other side of the coffee table and meets the eyes of the male sitting in the beanbag directly across from her.

Seemingly confused as to what she’s holding before looking back at it only to realise that the box is the snack she’s been craving and it needs to put it the freezer if she doesn’t want to drink the so called snack.

Getting up she makes her way over to the fridge/freezer combo she keeps in the corner of the room.

Walking back over to the lounge area she pit stops for a glass of water asking if they wanted one to. Theres a nod from beanbag before his registers what she asked.

Placing three glasses on the now over filled table she pours two glasses of water from the pitcher before handing one to him. She sits back down and shifts her gaze to Argyle as he starts coughing but quickly shifts it back to the other male before a mild laugh escapes her.

What a beautiful sound.

She pours a glass of water before setting it down on front of the long haired man and shifting the bong over to her side of the table, reading it for her own hit.

It goes just as well as her friends hit and she also started coughing but quickly stops herself and tries to take slow deep breaths and sips of water to stop herself from the onslaught of continuous burning in her throat.

Getting back up she speed walks over to get a popsicle to help stop the hurting sensation. That’s why she wanted them in the first place, that and they’re fucking delious.

Returning she sits in the middle of the couch and pat the seat to her left signaling for him to come join them on the sofa.

Staring at the spot for a second or two his body finally responds to his brain and he rises from the beanbag with a wobbly demeanour and makes his way over besides her.

As soon as he’s sat her hand make it’s way to his head and into his hair, circling his scalp sending waves of pleasure over it.

He sinks further into the couch closing his eyes.

He wouldn’t mind staying here in this moment forever. Just having a chill afternoon with his two best friends.

———————————————————————

This has been posted on my AO3 since 2022! I posted it before I made a new account on here, but now that I’m hopefully posting more writing, I thought I should cross post it.

I hope alle my Jonathan lovers enjoyed!

“This is a comfort fic for myself because after the seeing episode 3 season 4 I couldn’t get stoner Jonathan out of my head. I might write more at some later time, who knows.” - Liv 29/5 22.

[anemiccastiron]

Steve, Eddie, or Jonathan Fic?

Hi! While I'm not going to write about Billy, I thought maybe I could do something with Eddie, Steve, or Jonathan? I have a story outline, not sure if any of you'd be interested, or with which character, so I was putting this out in hopes for some clarity!

It's a very rough outline! Fem!reader - I use 'she' and 'her' basically every other word.

-

Uncool, dorky guy annoys girl since elementary school; answers her questions, harsh peer grading, comments of certain food "toxicity" while she and her friends pass by in the cafeteria, and accidentally breaks wrist before graduation during gym period.

At graduation, during announcements they realize they are attending the same near-home college. Approaches her around her family to sign his yearbook. Her friend warns him off, informs the family that's the kid who broke her wrist. He's scared away by angry parents.

College starts off with some of the same gen ed classes. First he is the same, annoying and loud. While looking at the club board, he comes up next to her and asks what she's joining. Quickly, the first thing she sees he wouldn't like is ballet. Yanks the square, tearing down the whole page and it floats to the ground.

As years pass in college, he quiets down and avoids her. She is working as a finance intern, while still doing ballet in her free time.

On Thanksgiving night, painting a DnD board model, his roommates got tired of his music that he listens to while he works, and tosses the board out of the window...

...Coming home from a bad family dinner, where she is made to feel childish for her hobby and not focusing her free time on furthering her career and spending time with family, she sees him picking up the pieces on the sidewalk. Helps him, and they awkwardly chat.

Senior year, the last party of the year, she goes with her friends. He goes to get at least one taste of that sort of thing. She's sitting in a room, one she's occupied by herself by faking sex noises. He goes to find somewhere to decompress and knocks on the door. His smarts and being sober leads him to ask, "Wait, doesn't it take two people?" and goes in, innocently - not creepily. They both sit and talk. She asks about what he plans to do after college. He has a job already lined up as a graphic designer. He asks her, and she has no idea what she plans to do. She tells him that his life always seemed easy. He explains it hadn't been; no real friends, no social life, no saying the right things to the right people (hint, hint). He tells her that her life has always seemed simple. She gets upset, with all her underlying issues. She leaves.

Four or so years pass and at an office party with his colleagues, she and her boyfriend (who works there) are in attendance. She sees him first, boyfriend asks and she tells him how long she's known him. Boyfriend says he's one of the guys that he regularly gets drinks with after work. She’s like, "oohhhh, that's xxx..."

...He doesn't see her until he makes his round of hand-shaking and gets to her boyfriend. He's awestruck, she's still just as beautiful. Party goes on and the boyfriend asks if he can hold a DnD campaign at their place with some friends from work, him included. Only asking now she's had a proper chance to meet them all.

Come time for the session, she's picking up their dog from surgery. She thought the game would be over and went upstairs to ask boyfriend to help carry the dog up. Boyfriend says no, since he's still playing the game, but mc guy can because his character is badly injured, but truthfully just wants to talk to her. So, he goes down and pets the dog. He says, "What a pretty girl," and the girl says, "He's a boy." He just smiles, since it really was for her. They talk about how life has been, what she's been up to. Asks about ballet, and she says she doesn't dance anymore because it "doesn't pay." He laughs and says, "Hobbies usually never do." She explains she knows, but doesn't explain that she stopped because she felt guilty because of it. She wanted to use her time to be with family, friends, at work, and with her boyfriend (he asks how long they've been together (four months)). So, he asks what she does for fun then. She reads, and he asks what book currently. She laughs, and he knows it must be something "bad" to get that reaction. She eventually tells him, and it's a "spicy" fantasy book and he makes some comment that lets her know he's read it too. As they smile, there's a flash of a scene where it mimics the book - them two as lovers in some dystopian woodland, on a blanket, kissing and expressing love lol. She instantly blushes and breaks eye contact...

..Then ends with asking about an upcoming high school reunion. Neither were going to attend, but plan to now.

He's waiting against his car, she arrives, pokes fun at him for waiting and that he's shaved, but he said he wasn't going in without her. They go in, their high school respective friends call them over, they part ways. Her old friends, true to style, ignore his whole existence, and just talk about how long her hair has gotten and so on. His friends pat his back, laugh about how dresses now, and then ask about her. He doesn't really confess anything, but smiles as he dismisses their comments...

...A little time later, she excuses herself to go call her boyfriend to ask about the dog. She takes her clutch with her, so it looks like she's leaving. He freaks out and follows her. The sun is setting, so it's scenic lol...

...Their conversation starts off with her asking what he's doing, why he followed. He comes up with some lame excuse, but really worried she was leaving without getting a chance to talk.

Eventually spills his guts to her and says, in question format, if she knows why he answered all those questions for her in school. She doesn't, and he tells her it's because he knew she wasn't good with science or math. He wanted to help her, but realized how annoying he was about it. Reaches out, rubbing the wrist he accidentally broke, and apologizes for how he treated her then. Goes on to explain that in college, as he matured and she only got prettier, he was just scared to approach her, so he didn't. Now as adults, he just wants to be put out of his misery, so to speak. Her hand, that he was holding is placed on his chest, above his heart, and he apologizes that she's with someone and he’s saying what he is, but he just needs to know. She's shocked and doesn't really answer besides, "I'm with xxx..." which technically is her saying she does like him, just nothing she can do about it now. Then she goes back in.

A little while after, she's constantly thinking about what he said, but is ultimately wanting to make it work with her boyfriend. Though, he's more work motivated and wants to climb the corporate ladder. She's picked ballet back up and they see each other less. After sex one day, interrupted by a work call, they both lay there. They come to an agreement that it's not working out, and end things on good terms.

A month down the line, she runs into him at the craft store. She's buying fabric to sew pillows at her new place and he's buying stuff for DnD. Things are a bit awkward and silence lingers, then she cuts in if they can talk that night, maybe a date. He smiles and asks, "What about your boyfriend?" And she tells him they broke up.

On the date, at an ice cream parlor downtown, the conversation is the usual, a bit stale as they warm up. They go for a walk around downtown. By the end, tired of tiptoeing around what she wants to say, she stands in front of him and tells him that she almost hated him when they were younger for what he did, that there was this guy she was attracted to but he was being unkind to her. Then he just stopped all interaction during college and she still was attracted to him, and now he's confessing that he likes her, upset he did it while she was in a relationship, and tells him, despite that, she still "likes" him.

blah blah blah they get to know each other and love one another

[queenimmadolla]

𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐨𝐬

(jonathan byers x fem!reader)

Summary: Your boyfriend seeks you out in his time of need. You hold onto him for as long as you can.

Warnings: Angst, a little bit of fluff and comfort, implied Jancy.

a/n: My dumbass lost the ask about this request. I had an original character x steve harrington plot, once upon a time, my first ever OC for a fandom and it started off a lot like this, so writing this was very nostalgic. Hurt like hell, though. Anyways, hope the jonathan lovers (other than me) and anyone else who gives this a read likes it. I know he's not one of the more popular ST romantic interests, but he should be.

You hummed along to the song crooning low from your battered radio—the poor thing having taken one too many tumbles from its resting place on your dresser.

  Sometimes you got a little too into it, and lacked special awareness, dance moves too much for your secondhand furniture. 

  The main ceiling light was off, your safe space only lit by a few candles and the lamp on your desk, providing you enough light to complete the essay you were working on. 

  It was peaceful, almost. Ideally, you’d rather be in bed reading a book or watching some movie, maybe catching up on Dynasty but you needed to clear your head—or rather, distract yourself.

  You’d been plagued with a sense of foreboding for the last couple of weeks, and anxiety. It had only intensified in the last couple of days, still, you were determined to push through it. You were being stupid, silly.

  You let out a sigh, dropping your pencil in favor of running a hand over your face. You’d gone right back to thinking about the cause of your silent anguish. Danggit.

  You let yourself stew in silence for a few moments before you forced yourself to pick up your pencil again, ready to move onto your next paragraph when you heard the unmistakable sound of knuckles rapping against the glass of your window.

  Glancing up and over, you found your boyfriend’s face peering down at you. He smiled, sheepish, as he waved.

  You abandoned your homework (it wasn’t due until Friday anyways), hurrying over to the wall to unlock it for him. Your bedroom was in the basement, the house was only a two bedroom, so you’d shared a room with your younger sister until just a few months ago, when your father had finally cleaned it out and done it up for you just before his sudden passing. 

  Jonathan had no problem climbing down through the small, rectangular window, he’d done it a couple of times already—though your mother had no problem allowing him in, not when he made you so happy after the loss.

  “You could just use the front door, you know.” You reminded him, lips pulling into a smile as his nose scrunched up in distaste.

  “Didn’t want to ring the doorbell, I know your mom’s probably exhausted from all the flying.” He shrugged off his jacket, resting it over the washer (hey—it might have been a spacious room but it was still the basement).

  Your heart warmed, pleased with the fact he’d remembered your brief mentioning of her return home that morning while he’d walked you to your algebra class. She was a flight attendant, taking on more flights to support you and your sister now that your dad was gone. You rarely saw her anymore.

  “She’s got her earplugs in.” 

  “Did she have to pay twenty dollars for those or does she get them for free?”

  You laughed, shoving at his shoulder. Jonathan chuckled, giving you a playful push before he dragged you back to him, holding you against him as he swayed you and pressed his lips to your crown.

  Your eyes fluttered shut, soaking up his affection like a peace lily deprived of the sun.

  Then he let himself fall back onto your bed, taking him with you as you squealed. 

  “Jonathan!”

  He shushed you, hand on the back of your head to press your face into his chest, “Your mom is asleep, Moody!”

  You groaned at the use of the nickname you’d never be able to escape. You’d swallowed a mood ring on a dare in elementary school and threw it up, along with your breakfast, during recess when you’d grown anxious, believing a doctor would have to cut your stomach open to fish it out. 

  The mean kids had used the name to taunt you, but when a shy little boy with shaggy hair used it to call you over and ask if you wanted to take turns pushing each other on the swing, you’d decided it wasn’t all that bad. Not even a little. He also never took a turn on the swings, pushing you the entire time.

  That hadn’t been the beginning of your love story, while you’d play with Jonathan—always running to him whenever he called and even when he didn’t—your crush on him prevented you from developing a real friendship with him, too shy whenever he’d acknowledge your existence. It was a Peppermint Patty and Charlie Brown kind of thing until high school.

  You’d always been pretty, always been likable and nice—to those who deserved it—and your popularity in high school was a result of those traits. You’d been pursued by boys since middle school, but you were too focused on your pursuit of one boy in particular to pay them any mind.

  Your love story finally started just after freshman year had ended. Jonathan was going around, taking photos of the messy hallways filled with celebration. You’d clocked the moment his camera was on you and gave the lens, and the boy behind it, a brilliant grin.

  The picture was clipped to the visor in his car with a copy resting, framed, on his bedside table

  You let out a small puff of breath, eyes closing once more as the anxiety faded from you. Jonathan was your flame, always driving away the cold.

  The two of you laid there on your bed in comfortable silence, his hand stroking over your hair. You’d almost been lulled to sleep until you registered the change in the silence. It was anxious again, but it wasn’t you.

  You moved your head to stare up at him, chin resting on his chest.

  He wasn’t looking at you, gaze focused on your ceiling with an emotionless expression. You knew what he was thinking about.

  “We should hang up more flyers,” You commented, mind filling with thoughts and memories of the little boy who often accompanied you on dates with your boyfriend and for whom you often babysat before you were even able to call Jonathan yours. Despite his young age, you considered Will a friend (felt a little wrong to call him your little brother seeing as how you were sleeping with his older brother). You loved him and you missed him, having been plagued with worry since his disappearance. 

  You’d searched the woods with Joyce, Jonathan and your sister day after day until your group finally had to admit Will wasn’t in the woods. You’d also helped plaster his missing posters all over town, putting them back up when some asshole tore them down (you hadn’t told Jonathan about that).

  Jonathan hummed, unblinking and you wiggled further up his body, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck as you pressed a few gentle kisses there. You could feel the tension leaving him.

  “Do you think he’s still alive?” He finally asked, voice a whisper even for your soft spoken boyfriend and laced with fear.

  You moved onto your forearm, shifting your weight to your side as you used your free hand to grasp his chin, turning his head to look at you. 

  There was a wet shine to his pretty brown eyes, one you knew he rarely allowed himself to show.

  You thought of your sister upstairs, older than Will but still  younger than you. If anything happened to her, you wouldn’t know how to go on with that missing space in your life. You could barely do it with the space your dad had previously occupied being empty.

  You knew Will, though. Maybe not as well as his brother, but you had a special bond with him, your friendship pure and full of trust. He’d comforted you on the nights you were babysitting him and your feelings for Jonathan became too much for you, always reassuring you that his brother was the greatest but severely stupid if he couldn’t see how much you cared about him and ask you out. You’d laugh, make him popcorn and let him watch a scary movie to apologize for being a teenage girl around him.

  He told you his secrets, too.

  Yeah, your bond with Will Byers was strong, unbreakable even. And you knew he was alive. You didn’t know how, you just knew.

  “Without a doubt. Will is gonna come home. He is, and we’ll all cry and hug and never let him out of our sights again, but he’s coming home.”

  You watched his face give in, crumbling as the tears finally trailed down the sides of his face, disappearing into his sideburns.

  It was your turn to hold him. You pulled him to you and he went willingly, burying his face in your chest as he quietly sobbed, shoulders shaking. 

  You carded your fingers through his hair and kissed his forehead, willing away your own hurt so you could help him through his.

  “He might not be here right now, but Will isn’t gone. You haven’t lost him, Shutterbug.” You promised, squeezing him so he didn’t feel like he was falling apart.

  All your previous worries were gone, fear of Jonathan’s seemingly growing friendship and secret rendezvous—he hasn’t told you about but you know of—with Nancy Wheeler forgotten, trivial compared to the matter at hand. He’s in your bed, came to you for comfort and you got to hold him. She’s got a boyfriend, one who isn’t yours. The foreboding can take a seat in the back of your mind because you wouldn’t pay it anymore attention.

  You were right, Will did come home. You didn’t know the whole story, not buying the one fed to you but you didn’t push it, happy and relieved your little friend was back home safe.

  And you were right about the other thing, the foreboding. By the next fall, you weren’t able to hold Jonathan anymore. 

  And he stopped being yours.

[wroteclassicaly]

Could you write some fluffy summer fun with Jonathan? 👀

Jonathan taking you to a flower field to photograph you on a summers’ day.

~*~

You wore the dress for him specifically. And it seems to be a hit everywhere that you go today (the grocery to get picnic supplies, a bouquet for your apartment, Nancy and Robin’s home, and Joyce when she answered the cabin door). It was a simple yellow sundress with straps, frills around the hemming and bodice, and it pulled you in at all of the right places. You wore light makeup, a cute pair of thrifted sandals, and the pendant Jonathan got for you on your last birthday — the charm, engraved with your favorite flower. Feeling like a million bucks, Joyce informed you he was still getting ready, but that you could finally enter the newly separate entrance to the add-on (beside the cabin) that they built for him to have his privacy. He’d been watching out the window, distracted by his delicious excitement that never fails to happen when he knows he’s getting to see you.

Before you could rasp your knuckles to the door, it was open and he was engulfing you into his arms, taking your hand to spin you around in a twirl — yellow fabric swirling past your vision as your dress spread out. You’re both laughing by the time he’s got you close, hands joined together.

“Someone’s excited.”

“Can’t help it if I missed you, can I?”

You smile softly, your pinkies linking, his other hand sliding to cup your cheek as you lean in for a soft kiss. He smells like fresh laundry, Irish Spring, and that musky cologne he bought last summer in Indianapolis at the mall. It’s a simple baby blue t-shirt that he wears, black converse, and blue jeans. He breaks away reluctantly, a few more simple pecks. “Let me go grab my camera bag, baby.”

He’s in and out before you can even finish getting the picnic basket from your car. You know that you’ll be in his room by nightfall, so you don’t follow this time. He takes your hand and begins to walk with you through the lush, re-grown greenery. You both remember, wilted flowers and ashy death not so long ago. But everything is right, it’s green, and as you come into sight of the flower field and its various colors - you squeeze his hand extra tight.

He snaps the peaceful overlook of a now normal Hawkins. You kick off your sandals and let the sun warmed grass caress your toes. Briefly breaking from him, he watches you take it all in, fingertips tickling across overgrown blades of grass, petting wildflowers as you pass them by. He starts snapping immediately, a mist filtering across his sclera. You turn back to him the moment the wind catches your dress and a baby blue sky flickers behind as a backdrop.

Jonathan swallows harshly, nostrils flaring, exhaling languidly. He flips the lid on his bag to find another lens, eyes mulling over the small, olive green box stashed in the corner pocket. He runs his fingers across it, popping the lid to check in on the ring, before closing his bag and standing to approach you.

[eiightysixbaby]

rise and shine

pairing: farmhand!jonathan x farmer’s daughter!fem!reader

jonathan works on your father’s farm, and you’re strictly forbidden to mess around with him. but on a sweltering summer day one thing leads to the next, and i guess what your father doesn’t know won’t hurt him… (5.5k)

cw: 18+ ONLY - SMUT. oral (m + f receiving), unprotected piv, creampie, use of petnames, jonathan’s nickname for reader is ‘birdie’, this is filthyyyy so pls let me know if i forgot anything lol

a/n: farmhand!jonathan was born during a conversation with @onegirlmanytales, so this one is for you gia. our beautiful beautiful boy <3 as always, reblogs are so incredibly appreciated! love u guys xoxo

The heat is already unbearable, and the sun is barely even up. The kind of dry, suffocating warmth that steals your breath and makes you feel sluggish.

A golden morning glow is cast across the fields as Jonathan stomps towards the barn, the rubbery soles of his boots crunching against dry grass. He heaves open the heavy metal latch to the thick wooden door, inhaling the stale, overwhelming scent of the animals. He’s mostly used to the smells by now, though they’re amplified on the brutally hot days like this one.

He starts his path from one stall to the next. His favorite horse, Nimbus, presses her hoof into the dusty dirt of the barn floor, chortling at him. A smile graces his features as he reaches a hand out to stroke her long snout, palm flat against the bristly softness of her coat.

“Hey, girl. Good morning,” he speaks softly to her, and she nuzzles into his hand. He gives her a few extra scratches for good measure before he continues to walk through and greet the rest of the bunch.

There's three other horses in this barn, along with the cows. The rabbits have their own coop outside, as do the chickens and ducks. He knows the morning routine like the back of his hand, and he floats through his tasks as if on autopilot. The animals get kisses and pats from him, snacks and fresh water. Even as he sweats through his clothes, he feels at peace caring for them all.

All of the animals seem to like him; even the ones with the wildest tempers turn mild when he's around. He tries to be modest about this, but his mom and brother definitely hear him gush about it when he comes home from a long day. He can’t help it, he’s a little bit proud of himself.

He's collecting eggs from the hens when he spots you. Beautiful, bright, perfect you flouncing down the porch steps in your pretty sundress, the fabric adorned with what he assumes are tiny flowers but can't quite discern from this distance. The yellow metal watering can sways in your hand, clanking against the concrete slab beneath the water spout as you set it down.

He doesn’t realize how hard he’s been staring until you turn to him with a cheery wave.

“Mornin’ Jonathan!” you call, and he feels his cheeks flush with warmth at the realization of being caught.

He waves, a half smile gracing his lips. “Morning, Birdie.”

The nickname is one he’d given you after he caught you awake early one morning, feeding the birds and taking notes about each type that visited your porch. He’d approached as quietly as he could so as not to disturb them, and he let you show him the feathers you’d collected and the sketches you’d done of the creatures. He marveled at it all, really, and unbeknownst to you it only made him more smitten for you.

If he's honest with himself, the best moments of his days working the ranch are when he sees you. He thinks about you constantly, and he has - on more than one occasion - come home smiling giddily about an interaction he'd had with you only to blush profusely when his brother would tease him.

The problem here, is your father. He’s the owner of the ranch and thus is Jonathan's employer, an under-the-table type of situation, and the man is protective as all hell of you. The last thing he needs to do is breach your father’s trust and risk his job. He thinks maybe he'd also be risking his life.

But the way the sunlight makes your complexion shine, bouncing off your skin radiantly makes his knees buckle. Your smile when you look at him makes his palms sweat. The soft sound of your humming floating towards him makes his heart soar.

You make him forget all of his inhibitions. And it's equal parts exciting and terrifying.

The water trickles from the can’s spout, sparkling in the sunlight as it falls over the beautiful flowers surrounding your porch. You’re careful to give each plant more than enough water, and he watches you intently as if this is some incredibly riveting task.

When you go to refill the can a second time, he realizes that he hasn't moved in far too long. He promptly forces himself to turn on his heel, heading back to let the animals out of their pens to graze. His footsteps feel mechanical, like he has a tinier version of himself controlling his body from a panel inside of his brain.

Don't be a moron, he thinks to himself. Be fucking cool.

He busies himself by cleaning out each of the pens within the barn, sweeping the old ruddy broom along the brown dirt floors, watching as its dry bristles occasionally fall off in its trail. He doesn't even flinch as he shovels waste from each stable, his once squeamish demeanor having been tampered with time and experience. He brings the back of his hand up to wipe the sweat from his forehead, his stringy bangs soaked beneath the wide brim of his hat. He can feel the fabric of his soft cotton shirt already clinging to his back, a sensation that’s entirely too much in this kind of heat.

He turns around, peeking out of the barn doors. There’s no sign of you anymore, and he doesn’t see your father or anyone else either. He supposes it’s alright to take his shirt off, given there’s no one near to offend.

Little does he know, as he reaches an arm around to his back and hoists the fabric up and off, you’re watching shyly from your kitchen window. Peering through the patterned curtains, chewing on your lip. Your fingers absentmindedly twirl a straw around your glass of lemonade, lost in a trance.

Jonathan has more muscle on him than you expected, though you aren’t sure why this is a surprise to you given the hard work he does. You can see the distinct lines on his arms where his tan doesn’t reach, the result of too many days working in the sun with t-shirts on. He stretches, his shoulder blades protruding like wings, and you nearly feel yourself start to drool as his muscles flex and pull. He bends down to retrieve his hat, the unmarked surface of his back on display.

You long to feel his skin beneath your palms, to reach out and touch his back, trace a finger from one freckle to the next until you’ve created a constellation only you can see. You want to leave marks, dig your nails in until you’ve left evidence that you’ve been there.

The longer you stare, watching him as he continues tidying up, the warmer you become. You can feel a searing desire forming between your legs, bare thighs squeezing hard together beneath your tiny dress.

You aren’t sure where your father went, but you know you haven’t seen him around the barn at all this morning. How bad could it be to go out there with Jonathan, really?

The skin of your lip grows raw as your teeth wear at it further, debating your next move or rather, hyping yourself up to make it. Your body buzzes with nerves, clenching your hands into fists before opening your palms once more.

Screw it. Screw it, you're going out there.

Before you can convince yourself to stay inside and hide away from the man, you're pouring another glass of lemonade to take out to him. Slipping on your shoes and swinging open the screen door that spits you out onto your porch. Bees buzz at your sides when you pass the flowering bushes, sun searing your skin the second you're exposed to its harsh rays.

It's sweltering, that's for certain, and coming out here under the guise of bringing Jonathan something to drink is innocent enough.

He doesn't hear you approaching, your footsteps barely making a sound as you trod across the grass. He's hunched over slightly, rinsing dirt from his hands with the garden hose and a bar of soap he keeps in the barn.

“Hey,” is all that comes out of your mouth at first. He spins to face you, visibly startled by your presence. Water runs from the hose that's now soaking the parched grass where it lays, before he hastily shuts off the water supply. “Sorry, I didn't mean to sneak up on you. Just thought you might be thirsty,” you hold the glass out to him, twisting your lips.

“Oh, t-thanks,” he stammers, accepting the offering. The glass is cold in his hand, already sweating from the heat. Droplets of water fall from the bottom of the cup and onto the ground by his boots, unable to cling to the warming surface any longer. His mouth suddenly feels dry, whether from the heat or your proximity he can't decipher, but he suspects it's the latter.

You don't move from your spot in front of him, your pretty eyes nearly sparkling as you watch him take a sip of the drink. You look like you want to pounce on him.

You watch intently as his Adam’s apple bobs in his throat as he takes a few greedy swallows, your cheeks hot and feverish at all of the thoughts that swirl through your head.

“Mm,” he hums, pulling the glass rim from his lips. His eyes can't help but rake over your frame, focusing too hard on the way your dress flatters your body. “It's real sweet,” he says, gaze zoning in on your lips. How the soft layer of shiny gloss makes them look enticing, like ripe fruit ready to be picked.

Your teeth sink into the plump skin of your bottom lip, batting your lashes at him. You're toeing a dangerous line, but both of you want nothing more than to cross it.

A small noise dies in his throat, like he was going to speak but can’t bring himself to. He sets his glass down, his hands trembling slightly. You step closer to him, the heat unbearable, but you’re no longer sure if it’s the sun or your own desire warming the atmosphere. You feel two-hundred degrees, and you can guess Jonathan feels the same.

“Do you want to… take a break? You work so hard, and you must be so hot,” you say, saccharine and faux-innocent, your index finger trailing featherlight down his chest. You know what you’re doing, and he knows it, too.

“Birdie...” he warns. “Your dad—”

“Don't worry about my dad. He's not around, no one has to know,” you gaze at him, watching as he rubs a hand down his face. “I won't let anything bad happen, even if he finds out,” you add, taking his hand in yours.

You flip his palm up, running your thumb along the rough skin. He's quiet, but breathing too heavily for someone who's standing still.

God, he might regret this. But he can't bring himself to care quite enough to do anything to stop it. He knows what your next move is before it happens.

And then, in one swift motion you're pressing your lips to his, closing the gap between your bodies. His bare chest pressed to your clothed one, his breath catching in his throat. He feels himself melt into you just as you pull away.

You blink at him, having stepped just slightly backward. Instantly he's wishing you'd come back. Like now that he’s had one taste of you, he can’t fathom going another second without it. Your gaze stays focused on his lips and it makes him feel like jelly, you look like you could devour him and he wants to let you. His eyes search your face rather frantically before he makes a decision.

His hands reach up to cup your face, pulling your lips back to his. He pushes you back easily until you're pressed against the outer wall of the barn, mouthing hungrily at one another beneath the scorching sun. One hand glides up your thigh, rucking up the fabric of your dress as you expose your neck to him, letting him kiss and bite at the tender skin. Tasting the sweat that beads, lapping it away with his tongue like he'd dreamt of doing for weeks.

Then, as if suddenly remembering where he is, he draws back, looking around behind him to ensure no one's there. That typical skittish demeanor creeping back in. One of his hands remains at your hip, his eyes searching yours. His nervousness makes your heart flutter.

“Should we… could we… take this into the barn?” he asks softly, making your lips twist into a small smile.

Wordlessly, you hook two fingers into his belt loops. You walk backwards, pulling him along with you until you’re sheltered inside the building. Instantly, you’re coaxing his face to yours again, pressing your lips to his in an urgent, pleading kiss.

“No one’s gonna catch us,” you murmur against soft lips. “I promise.”

And there’s no way you can be sure of that, he knows it too, but your voice sounds so soothing that he nods in agreement.

He shuts one of the rickety barn doors just to be even safer, leaving the other open for airflow before he lets his lips attach to yours once more. You kiss each other like you’re starving, affection-deprived, and before you know it he's walking you backwards and coaxing you onto the hay bales that rest in the corner. They're stacked in neat, cut rectangles, and you perch your bottom on the top one, letting Jonathan's frame slip between your legs.

The hay is scratchy against the plush backs of your thighs, but it's only a minor annoyance in your current state. A well worth it trade-off for the way Jonathan's hands caress your knees, sliding up your legs until they're pushing up the fabric of your dress. His fingertips are searing against your skin, branding you. Now that you've felt his touch, you can never go back.

Your head spins when he drops to his knees before you, your brain lagging in its attempt to catch up with what's happening. Palms splayed on your thighs, his soft brown eyes gaze up at you, pupils wide with lust. He continues to hike up your dress until it's bunched up at your hips, your pretty cotton panties staring him in the face. An index finger reaches out to flick the tiny pink bow that rests on the waistband, a soft smirk spreading across his kissable mouth.

He leans his face forward, breath fanning out over your clothed core. You flinch, eagerly anticipating his mouth on you. He sticks his tongue out, tentatively allowing it to lick a flat stripe over your panties. Gasping, your hands haphazardly push his hat off of his head, fingers tangling in his damp mop of hair. A strangled whimper clambers from his throat, his lips mouthing at your clothed cunt. The cotton fabric grows more and more moist by the second, his tongue pressing tantalizingly against it, making your back arch.

“Jonny, please—”

His fingers loop beneath the waistband of your underwear at either hip, beginning to tug them down as if to quiet you.

“Shh, angel. Don't have to beg,” he murmurs softly, shifting to bring your legs together momentarily, pulling the small bit of clothing completely off.

Back between your thighs, he eyes your bare pussy hungrily before shifting his gaze up to meet your eyes. “Gonna take such good care of you, like you deserve.”

His mouth presses a soft kiss to your mound, tongue poking out to test the waters; to get its bearings. He licks and sucks experimentally, repeating actions when you moan or whine in favor of one in particular. Perspiration prickles on every inch of your skin, the heat of the growing afternoon coupled with the fiery blaze he's set across your nerve endings making you swelter.

He grows more confident with every second, letting his tongue lick inside of you, collecting the sweetness that pools just for him. He lets out a satisfied grunt, lapping at you ravenously, your fingers pulling roughly on his hair. He seems emboldened by this, spurred on by each tug to his soft locks. Your head tips back, moaning his name at the vaulted ceiling of the barn while he teases your clit with his greedy mouth.

He pauses to take a good look at you, his cheeks beautifully flushed, his body heaving slightly as he catches his breath. The look in his eyes makes it seem like he's trying to commit your every feature to permanent memory.

“Jonathan...” you mewl, letting your hands fall loose from his hair and cradle his face instead.

Your core throbs for him, a deep incessant ache that commands to be quelled. He reads your mind, his desperation matching yours. He rises just enough for his lips to meet yours, letting his tongue slip into your mouth. The sweet tang of your arousal has you moaning into the kiss, your hand reaching down to paw at his crotch through his jeans. You gasp at the bulge that awaits you, his impatient cock pressing against its confines.

He hisses in a pleased sort of agony, the friction so glorious yet not nearly enough. Your fingers work to undo his belt, the clunky metallic buckle falling to the side. He watches you, lips parted, as you unbutton and unzip the dust-covered jeans, pushing them down his thighs. His thin boxers do very little to conceal the shape of his cock, the size catching you off guard. Your delicate palm squeezes it, reveling in the pleased noise that escapes him in response.

“Shit,” you murmur, letting the pad of your thumb roll over the head, precum leaking through the checked fabric.

His body jerks against his will, hips bucking pitifully into your hand. Your hand slips beneath the boxers, mercifully, fingers wrapping around the base of him once his cock is fully free.

You give it a few slow strokes, watching the way his eyes flutter closed. Encouraged, you pump his length faster, the corner of your mouth kicking up when he groans.

“I've - ah - I've wanted this for so long. You have no idea,” he says. “You’re so beautiful. I swear I think about you every day.” His cheeks are rosy, shy with his confession.

“I bet I’ve wanted this just as long as you have,” you reply softly, letting the pad of your thumb swipe over the leaking head of his cock, pearlescent arousal making the motion slick.

He lets out a shuddering breath, his fingers digging hard into your thighs as you tease. You’re entranced by him, your eyes focused in on the deep blush pink of his erection. You can feel saliva collecting in your mouth, your nerve endings vibrating with a desire to taste him.

“Why don’t we switch spots? Come sit here, so I can take care of you,” you murmur, batting your lashes up at him as your fingers gently squeeze his shaft.

His eyelids flutter, the warm brown of his irises rolling back at the touch and at your words. He rises on shaky legs and you follow suit, guiding him to sit on the stacked bales. The perfect makeshift throne for him to sit upon, the perfect spot for you to kneel before him and worship him the way you so badly need to. Your knees touch the dusty ground, the rough barn floor uncomfortable against them. You pay it little mind, however, simply itching to get your lips on the prize that lay before you.

Jonathan looks down at you with his lip tugged slightly between his teeth. His hand brushes hair out of your face, cupping your head gently as you gaze starry-eyed up at him.

His cock twitches as if in a plea, and it draws you to him. You grip the base in one hand, sticking your tongue out flat to collect the pearly white beads of precum that drip from the slit. You make direct eye contact as you lick at him, his body jolting with pleasure at the first touch of your tongue to his most sensitive part. His hands grip at the earthy yellow straw beneath him before finding their way to your hair, conscious of keeping it out of your face.

“Oh, fuck,” he exhales, your soft lips wrapping around him, engulfing him in the warm, wet cavern of your mouth.

You hum, pleased, before beginning to bob your head. Your tongue glides along his shaft, coating him in your saliva. You take him as deep as you can, until there's a pressure at the back of your throat and your eyes water in warning. He groans in spite of himself when you gag, catching himself instantly to ask if you're okay.

You nod wordlessly, cheeks flushing at his sweetness. You want to pull more noises from him, and you continue to take him into your throat so that you gag again. His head is thrown back, cock twitching in your mouth. Your saliva drips down it, pooling at the corners of your mouth and dribbling down your chin. He notices this, wiping at the wetness on your chin with his thumb.

“God damn, Birdie. M-making such a mess,” he stammers, looking down at you with those glorious lust-blown eyes.

You hum around him once more, hollowing your cheeks and sucking. He whines at this, the tendons in his neck straining, putting all of his effort into not spilling down your throat.

“Please,” he pants. “Please let me be inside you.”

Pulling off of his cock, a string of spit connects your bottom lip to his red tip for only a moment before you swipe it away. He's bending down in an instant, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. He grips your face with both hands, a strained noise clawing at his throat when your tongues dance around one another.

He pulls back after a moment, but he does so in a way that makes it seem like it physically pains him to do it. His hands paw at your waist, encouraging you up. You stand, moving between his spread knees. Climbing atop his lap, you can feel yourself throb with anticipation, your body begging to have him fill it.

His rosy cheeks, flushed from both heat and exertion, dimple slightly when he smiles at you. His eyes are flecked with gold from the sunlight that trickles through the slits in the walls, looking at you like you're the most ethereal being he's ever laid eyes on.

His hands hold your hips, bunching up your dress so it pools at the juncture between hip and thigh. You grind yourself on him, your wet heat teasing his cock.

“Oh fuck, you're so perfect,” he murmurs, lips pressed to your hair, his face burying itself at the side of your neck.

A tiny content moan escapes you, your skin ablaze where his lips press to your neck.

“Please, Jonathan,” you whine, rolling your hips again.

“Didn't I say you don't have to beg, sweet girl? I'm right here, do what you want with me,” he says, and this time he's the one who sounds like he might be begging.

Do what you want with me.

Your breaths come out heavy as you raise up just enough to line him up with your entrance, beads of precum dripping down his cock and making your palm slick. He twitches at the contact, his blunt nails digging in to the meat of your ass.

A long, low grumble of a moan slowly leaves his lips the second you guide his tip past your entrance. Your lips part, head thrown back as he slowly pushes deeper inside. The stretch is euphoric, your walls expanding to accommodate him with little resistance.

“Oh, fuck—” Jonathan hisses, tilting his chin to kiss at your jawline.

Outside, you hear the hens clucking contentedly, mourning doves cooing softly from trees. For a fleeting moment you remember the possibility of getting caught, hoping you maintain your privacy at least long enough to finish what you’ve started here.

Your skin is sticky where it touches his, sweat collecting in every crease and crevice. He’s bigger than you had anticipated, and just when you think he can’t possibly have more to give you, he’s pushing in the rest of the way. He grips you tightly as he bottoms out, pressed to the hilt inside of you. You both moan in unison, your hands holding loosely to his shoulders.

He’s still for a moment, eyes pinched shut as his chest heaves with his panting.

“Just— just need a second. Sorry, you feel so fucking good,” he says, willing himself not to finish right here right now. “God dammit, you’re squeezin’ me so tight.”

“Take your time,” you purr softly, simply enjoying the feeling of being so full. You let your hands travel to his neck, thumbs tracing down the column of his throat before reaching his chest. Perspiration beads on his soft skin, pink flush reaching down his neck to his chest.

Slowly, he starts to encourage the movement of your hips. Gripping them firmly, he aids you in finding a good rhythm. You let yourself rock lightly on top of him, his strong arms helping you along and making your head spin. The soft head of his cock presses so deeply inside of you you practically start drooling, unable to stop yourself from bouncing faster.

He doesn’t discourage your increasing pace; instead his head falls back in ecstasy, curses tumbling from his kiss-bitten lips. The quicker you move the tighter his hands seem to grip your hips, fingers digging into the plush skin, sure to leave a sore spot.

You’re drenching him, easing the movements with your arousal, and each slick glide feels better than you could’ve imagined.

“Jonathan, oh my god—” you cry, hands pawing desperately at his bare chest. Your nails drag marks down the soft skin, and he groans in response.

Your body grows fatigued, thighs burning, and he notices the steady slowing of your bouncing. He takes over with ease, wrapping his arms around you and rising to a standing position. You gasp at the different angle, his cock seemingly pressing deeper still, and then you feel your back hit the wall.

He cages you in tight against the wooden slabs, your legs wrapped firmly around his thin waist. Your stomach flips in a new wave of excitement, taking him at this brand new angle. You surrender any control you had, letting him take the reins. He so desperately needs to, to get out all of that pent up frustration from day after day of watching you from afar. Wondering what you’d feel like, sound like, taste like.

Now that he has you like this, pliant and eager, he wants to give every ounce of himself to you.

He doesn’t start slow, doesn’t need to ease into it in this new position like he did at first. His thrusts come hard and fast, sending you reeling. You watch the way the tendons in his neck flex and pull, straining with exertion. He grunts with his effort, little noises escaping in time with each thrust.

He leans in to bite at the lobe of your ear, his face twisting in a sort of growl; a snarl. He’s primal in the way he fills you, claiming you as his in a surge of power he doesn’t typically possess. It’s like a switch has flipped, his shyness and hesitation disappearing. You wonder where this side of him has been hiding, and you can only hope you’ll get to experience it again.

“You feel,” he grunts, gritting his teeth for a fleeting moment as he delivers a particularly harsh thrust. “So fucking good.”

All you can do is moan in response, a high-pitched little sound that spurs him on further. Your nails sink into his back, clawing down the surface, sure to leave marks in their wake. He bites at your bottom lip, tugging on it until you whine.

The sounds your bodies make together are obscene, slippery wet squelching coupled with the slap of skin on skin. If anyone were to walk by, there’d be no doubt about what’s going on.

Every single thrust has you crying out for him, the way he hits that perfect spot inside of you each time making you tremble in his grasp. The pleasure is white-hot, lapping at every inch of your body. You can feel yourself inching closer and closer to your release, and you’re so desperate to have it.

“Jon, ‘m so close,” you whine, barely clinging on to him while he fucks you senseless.

“Ah fuck, yeah? Y’gonna cum for me?” he asks, near breathless as he continues to pound into you. He looks so fucked out and perfect; bangs stuck to his forehead and his eyes heavy-lidded in bliss, watching you carefully.

And the way he asks the question, it sounds like he’s dying for you to finish. Like he’s begging you to clench around his length, squeeze him so tight, drench him with your arousal. Like he can’t possibly believe you’re about to cum for him.

But you are, and with a few more quick and sloppy thrusts of his hips you’re crying out his name; screaming so loud you can hear the birds in the tree outside flutter away in a frenzy.

“Fuck, oh god, oh god,” Jonathan pants, and you’re certain he’s about to lose it as your walls tighten around him in a rhythmic pulsation. “Where can I cum? Where do you want it?”

“Inside, has to be inside,” you whine. “Please.”

You barely get the final word out before you can feel him hurtling to an abrupt halt, hips stilling as he twitches inside of your warm wet cunt. He paints your insides, giving you every possible drop that he has.

“Shit, Birdie,” he says, nearly gasping for air. “You’re unreal. You know that? You’re absolutely incredible.”

You stay panting like that for a while, joined together, your sticky skin against his. He noses at your cheek, pressing soft kisses to it as you try to regain a normal breathing pattern.

He pulls out slowly then, a slippery mess formed where your bodies met. Your legs fall from around his waist, standing up on wobbly limbs that barely contain the strength to support you. His hands reach up to cradle your cheeks, his eyes wild with delight as they search your face.

Your heartbeat still hasn’t quite settled, fluttering rapidly with the way he’s looking at you. Before you can say anything he’s smashing his lips against yours, a slow and passionate kiss that rivals all the others that came before.

It lasts for a while, but you don’t feel like it’s been nearly long enough when he pulls away.

“I don’t want this to be over. I don’t want to act like this never happened,” he says, an almost frantic look in his eyes.

“Jonathan—”

“I want you. And I don’t care what your dad thinks. I want to take you on nice dates, and watch the birds with you, and kiss you like this every single day.”

You feel like your heart may explode, like it’s swelling larger and larger with each of his words.

“I want that, too. We’ll figure this out, okay? I swear,” you reassure him, kissing him again. Pouring all of your affection into him and hoping he feels it.

“Promise me.”

“I promise you. I couldn’t stay away if I wanted to,” you say, smiling lightly. He laughs, pressing his forehead to yours, slick with sweat.

You know it’s time to let him get back to work, but you’re reluctant to end the moment.

“I should really get back to it,” he says bashfully, as if reading your mind and feeling sorry he had to.

“Yeah, you should,” you agree, kissing the backs of both of his hands before letting him pull away.

He redresses while you watch in silent awe, studying the way his body moves. He catches you staring, his cheeks reddening adorably.

Both of you step out of the barn, back into the unforgiving sunlight. You’re about to head inside when you stop yourself, turning on your heel.

“I know you usually go home around four. Could you be back and freshened up around five-thirty?” you ask him.

“Uh, sure. Why?”

“Because, we have a date to go on.”

“Are you sure you—”

“I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life,” you say earnestly, and the grin that breaks out on his face is the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. You don’t know what exactly you’re going to say to your dad, but you’ll figure it out.

“Okay. Five-thirty. See you then, Birdie.”

With a little wave, you’re heading back inside. He doesn’t miss the slight wobble in your legs, or the trail of his release that runs down your thigh. And when he hears your dad’s car pull up the drive, he gives him a smug little wave.

What a way to start the day.

[clawsmiic]

>Rules of Requesting<

Eddie Munson 🎸

Season 4

Showing love in unconventional means

Older

Jonathan Byers 📸

Season 1

Season 2

Season 3

Season 4

Older

Robin Buckley 🎺

Season 3

Season 4

Older

Steve Harrington ✨

Season 1

Season 2

Fake dating your enemies enemy (Billy mention)

Season 3

Trying to ask out the smoothie girl

Season 4

Sneaking into your room 🔥

Giving you a ride home

Older

All content on this page is fictional and I do not condone the acts I enjoy in a fictional sense. I don't consent to my work being reposted or translated.

[luveline]

omg i was in such a sad mood last night and I cried myself sick for no reason and I was wondering if I could make a request for some comfort from maybe Jonathan. Please only write this if you want to or have time ❤️ love you Jadey <33

I hope you're feeling better my love ♥ thank you for ur request, I hope this is OK!

"It's alright," Jonathan insists, looking at you with a mixture of surety and worry. Steadying you, but worried at the same time. "Take a breather."

You try to do what he asks but nothing feels right, lately, or maybe it does but the breathlessness taking up all the space in your chest wants you to think otherwise. He can see it on your face, the thought process, the dawning panic. 

"Hey," he says gently, your joined hands between you, standing in the middle of his room. 

Of all the places you could've broken down, neither of you were expecting it to be in amongst his socks and books. 

"Hey, hey," he says, softer each time. "It's okay. I'm right here." 

"I think it all might be really bad," you say. You laugh but the laugh doesn't last, it cracks down the middle. 

"It's not all bad," he reassures you.

You hang your head. You hate crying in front of him, especially this sort of sobbing, the helpless kind like a little kid poking at their scraped knees. You can't stop thinking about the things that are upsetting you. 

Luckily, Jonathan isn't easily dissuaded. He had to grow up fast, you know that. He's looked after everyone who needed it for years, and he's adept at calming people down. 

"It's okay," he says. 

Jonathan ducks his head, forcing you to look him in the eyes. He's handsome in an understated way, what with his dark eyes, his pert nose. Hair you'd convinced him to let you trim in the name of keeping cool in California curls sweetly under his ears. "Tell me what's wrong?" 

"I just don't feel very well." It's a white lie. You're crying is making you feel sick. It's starting to feel worse than what upset you in the first place. 

"You're not gonna throw up. I know you won't. Here," he walks you backward into his desk chair, "sit down." 

You sit and Jonathan pushes the chair toward his window. He opens it as wide as the hinges will allow to let the breeze kiss your warm cheeks, cooling tears in tacky trails down the slopes of your face and the ridge of your jaw. Jonathan strokes your hair so gently it barely feels like he's touching you at all.

"Sorry," you say. 

Jonathan wipes your cheeks with the side of his hand. He doesn't lift it from your face: careful, he rests the back of it flat to your skin, the short nail of his index finger smoothing against your puffy undereye. You focus on that small sensation, eyes scrunched closed and a pounding misery at your temple. 

"There," he says, taking your face into his palm. "Good job, honey. You really wound yourself up. You scared me." He abandons your damp cheeks in favour of your shoulders, thumbs rubbing the sides of your neck. 

"Jon, you have to stop touching me for a second," you say regretfully. 

He holds up his hands. 

You suck in a big breath and hold it, wiping your face and your snotty nose with your sleeves, brushing baby hairs displaced by sweat back into place. For a few seconds, you sit and try to look less like you're one strong gust of wind from falling over. Jonathan watches anxiously.

You rub your eyes. "Will you hug me now?" you ask.

He kneels at your feet. "I would have hugged you before."

"Didn't want to get snot in your hair," you say, groaning as he wraps his arms behind your back. 

"Ew," he murmurs, the cadence of his voice lilting, like he might sing under his breath. His lips brush the shell of your ear. "I'd let you."

You shiver in his arms, completely collapsed, face digging deeper and deeper into his neck. He doesn't complain, only readjusts his hold to make you more comfortable. 

"It's okay if something's getting to you. You can tell me." 

"What if… I'm upset for no reason?" you ask tentatively. 

Jonathan gives your shoulders a little squeeze and a bigger shake. "That's okay too, duh. Just tell me what to do to make you feel better instead." 

"This is fine," you say, lips pressed greedily to the slip of skin just above his collar. "This is good." 

Jonathan stays there for ages, so long his knees must burn from the position, but he doesn't say a word. He hugs you for as long as you need him to, and then a little bit after that.

[mossyivy]

[What They're Like]

Getting A Cat

Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Jonathan Byers x (Fem) Reader

Stranger Things Masterlist

Summary: You ask for/get a cat and this is their response.

Content Warning: Talks of loneliness (Steves), talks of baby making (Eddies), cursing, pregnancy (Jonathans)

Steve Harrington

"I'm allergic to cats."

"But Baby, look at his little face!" You held up the flyer, pointing to the little kitten at the shelter nearby.

You'd been at this all morning following him around the house trying to convince him you needed a cat. Gushing about how cute he was. But Steve hadn't budged since he came back to him with the flyer earlier that morning at the supermarket.

His eyes rolled, trying his best not to look at the flyer, his face still a frown, but you knew he could barely hold his smile in. Steve always has a hard time saying no to you, but now it was for a really good reason. At least in his eyes.

"You can't tell me you wouldn't be happy coming home to me and that adorable little guy."

“We aren’t getting a cat.” Steve stated sternly as he turned his back on you, knowing damn well you would just keep at it if he let you. “I'm allergic to cats, you know we can't. Have. A cat.”

"You're allergic to pet dander. You can take medication for that." You corrected him, not quite ready to give up because of how much this meant to you. Steve knew for the longest time you wanted a cat. He even said he'd consider possibly letting you get one eventually.

Now was that time for a very good reason, but you're too proud to admit it to him.

"You said you'd let me get a cat eventually."

"I know what I said." Steve turns away from the kitchen sink, looking back at you again. You could tell he was having a hard time with telling you no for once. "I don't wanna walk around my house sneezing my head off if I just so happen to run out of medication."

Turning his attention back to the dishes as his words settled in. You hadn't even thought of that. Sadness settles in at the thought of your selfishness and now you feel crappy for a whole new reason. Accepting defeat, you sigh.

"Okay... I'll stop asking. I'm sorry." You walk over to the kitchen trashcan, crumple up the flyer and throw it in the trash. Steve turns his head watching the paper fall into the trashcan as you walk out of the kitchen and out of sight.

He sighs, looking back at the last dish from lunch as he shuts the faucet off and grabs the towel drying his hands off. Walking over to the trashcan, he reaches to pull out the flyer and uncrumpling it, staring at the shelter ad.

The kitten on the front was cute. Even he couldn't deny that. And he did say his girlfriend could get a cat eventually. Folding up the flyer, he stuffs it in his jeans pocket and starts to turn back to the sink.

Until he heard the familiar sound of a very specific Stevie Nicks album from your home office. One you were famous for playing when you were sad.

"She's upset..." He spoke to himself, walking out of the kitchen and down the short hallway into his office.

Standing in the doorway, he looks down at his girlfriend sitting on the floor dusting off one of the bookshelves.

“Hey," he spoke, finally breaking the silence between them, "are you mad or upset with me? Or just frustrated with the situation maybe?"

You can feel his concerned eyes trained on your back. You weren't mad at him for just looking out for himself for once, you wouldn't want him to suffer just to make you happy.

"I'm not mad or upset with you... I can't expect you to always say yes to me. I don't want you suffering for my sake."

Feeling that familiar burning in your nose, you stop talking.

'Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't cry.'

You repeated in your head.

'It's just a stupid cat...'

"It's fine Steve. It's just a cat."

He walked into the room and gently moved your arm so you would face him, immediately noticing your eyes looked glassy. He sat on the floor next to her. Tears start forming in your eyes when you see his concern turn to surprise.

"Babe... It's clearly not just about the cat anymore. Talk to me." Steve reaches up with his sweater sleeve over his hand and wipes your eyes as you sniffle.

"I'm sorry..." You swallow a lump in your throat trying your best to not start crying. Becoming inconsolable is not an option right now.

“Don’t apologize,” he whispers, “it’s okay.”

"It's just... I feel so childish saying this, but I'll be honest." Taking a deep breath, you try containing your tears for now.

"I've just been so lonely here all day by myself while working since you went back to teaching after Summer ended. And I thought I'd get used to it over time. But it's November and... I've just been lonely for 3 months and it won't go away."

God he hated seeing you upset like this.

Rubbing your back as he pulled you into a hug, he looked down at your face. Wiping your eyes again, it starts sinking in just how much this cat actually meant to you.

"So you thought maybe a cat would help?" He questions, you gently nod as he rubs your shoulder while nodding himself.

“Also, you’re not being childish… don’t even say that. I know you’ve wanted a cat for a while now… I guess I didn’t realize how much you wanted one or how much it meant to you.” He feels a bit dumb for not noticing it sooner. Leaning over, he kisses your forehead, making you smile again.

"Just please don't cave because I'm sad. I want you to take care of yourself first."

"Babe, I haven't even been tested for any of my allergies since I was like 13. I might not even be allergic anymore." He feels bad thinking about it now, he could have just gotten a test and save you all these tears.

"Listen, I'll set up an appointment with my allergist and get tested. And then we can go from there. I'll even get you 30 cats if that is what'll make you happy." You laugh at his enthusiasm as he gives you a tight squeeze of reassurance.

"I think that's a bit excessive but I appreciate your support."

A few months later...

"Where the hell is he?" You've looked everywhere for this goddamn cat. In your office, the living room, his favorite sunspot in the mudroom. At one point, you even opened the fridge and made sure he didn't climb inside somehow.

"Hey Babe?" You ask, stopping in the doorway of your shared bedroom, seeing your boyfriend grading papers at his small desk against the wall.

"Yeah?" He reaches over, turning off his radio, the light in the room catching his circle frame glasses as he takes them off the bridge of his nose.

"Have you seen Spitz? I can't find him anywhere." You step into the room as Steve turns in his desk chair, revealing the large gray Burmese cat in his lap. Slowly stirring in his sleep, as Steve used his free hand to pet him.

"He's been in here with me all morning." Steve smirks, leaning on the arm of his chair.

"Little shit..." You glare down at Spitz as he stretches awake in Steve's lap. Sitting up, he looks over at you with bright green eyes and a soft purr.

"You need him?" Steve asked, petting the cat's head lightly.

"Yeah, I wanted to cuddle on the couch with him." Steve's eyes lit up at your request, almost like he's excited about the interruption.

"You mind if I join you? I need a break from these essays. If I have to read one more time about how hot Patrick Swayze was as Darry I'm gonna lose my mind. It's like all of these kids rented the movie and didn't even bother reading The Outsiders."

"You're the one who wanted to teach 8th grade English classes." You smirk as he gives you an evil side eye.

"Why are you so beautiful even when you're being mean to me?" Steve dramatically tossed his glasses onto his desk as you chuckle. He scoops up Spitz onto his shoulder as he stands up and walks over to you.

"You're gonna start sneezing if you get him too close to your face."

Steve turns rubbing his face into the side of the cat, just to spite you. Spitz purrs louder, just enjoying the weird sense of affection. Laughing, he moves his head away, blowing harsh air out. Just trying to get a few loose pieces of cat hair off his mouth.

"You heard from the doctor, I'm not allergic anymore and we got a hypoallergenic cat just to be on the safe side." He smiles proudly as he leans in, kissing your lips quickly and carries Spitz out to the couch.

Following not close behind. Reaching the living room, you sit on the couch, leaning back against the arm, you throw your legs onto the soft plush of the seat cushions.

Steve moves over, setting Spitz down on your chest. You watch as Steve climbs over you, wrapping his arms around your hips and lays his head on your stomach with a content sigh. Spitz starts turning and moves down, jumping onto Steve's back and lying down.

"Well, now you're trapped. Spitz has chosen his favorite for the day." You sigh, making Steve laugh, it's been this way since you got him.

"What can I say, he has great taste." Steve smiles, earning a flick to the forehead.

Even if the cat prefers Steve most days, you don't care. What matters is everything worked out in your favor. Even if Steve was still allergic, you had a feeling the cat would still be in the house. Only because Steve loves you so much.

But now, having Spitz here, you're content.

Eddie Munson

"Fuck our landlord, we're getting the cat."

Eddie grunts as he pushes the amp into the back of his van. It was too cold to be doing this shit by himself. He walks back over to the sidewalk, grabbing the last amp and hoists it into the back of the van. Closing it up tight. Now all he had to do was pick up his girlfriend and head to his show in the city.

Letting out a harsh breath, he leaned against the door, collecting himself. Patting his pocket, he felt his keys, thanking himself for remembering this time. Climbing into the van, he slides his keys into the ignition hoping for his old shit box to kick on in the cold.

"Please work, I don't want her walking home in the cold just to call fucking triple A."

He sighs in relief as the engine kicks on, no issue this time. He turns the radio up and waits for the van to warm up. Soon he starts thinking back about his girlfriend calling him earlier from work on her break. Saying something about a surprise she had.

Not long later, he's out front of the local tailor, the door flings open as you come rushing out in your thick dark red parka jacket. The snow starts to come down, sticking to your hair and lashes before you can climb into the van.

"Hey Beautiful, how was work?" Eddie asks, leaning over as you move in giving him his usual kiss.

"Long, boring, usual. But I have my surprise!" You unzip your parka, starting to frantically look around your inner pockets.

"God damnit, where is it?!" Finally, you feel the glossy texture pulling it out of your jacket pocket. You excitedly smile by kicking your feet for a sec and showing him. He takes the polaroid you hand him and turns it over.

A cute little black kitten stares back at him with big yellow eyes as it sits on a red blanket of some kind.

"Aww." Eddie coos, looking at the picture and back at you. "One of your coworkers got a cat?"

"One of my coworker's cats had kittens and she's having a hard time getting this little girl adopted. Isn't she the cutest?" Eddie smiles with a nod as he looks back at the polaroid.

"How could anyone not want her? She's adorable."

'Poor thing must be lonely...' He thinks, his smile getting brighter and bigger as he looks at the picture.

You look at Eddie as he seems to be really admiring this cat. The smile on his face almost reminds you of how he looks at you in a way.

"Eddie."

"Hmm?" His attention comes back to you, smiling at him as he's still smiling wide.

"Do you want the cat?" You chuckle as he looks back at the picture, knowing how this was going to end.

"Yeah, yeah I do. She's cute and... I feel bad no one wants her." He slowly sits the picture down on the console as you nod.

"Soft spot for outcasts... Even animals, huh?" You smirk as he sighs, leaning towards the car window.

"Shut up." He grumbled, pulling away from the tailor shop, glancing back over at you, he asked lowly. "Do you want a cat?"

"Of course I do, she's precious. But you know our landlord's gonna be pissed if he finds out we have a cat." Eddie smirks, raising his eyebrows. You're just trying to be the responsible one, unlike your boyfriend.

"Fuck our landlord, we're getting the cat."

A few weeks later...

"Hey!" Eddie whispered aggressively at the cat sitting in front of his old acoustic guitar. Batting at the strings, causing a low thumping noise from the headstock hitting the wall to echo in the living room of the small apartment.

"It's 4 in the morning, it's too early for this." He bends over, picking up the black kitten off the floor and into his hand. Turning to look into his eyes, she stared at him. Ears pinned to the top of her head, pupils nearly swallowing her yellow eyes.

"Orion Judas Munson, if you don't calm down I'm putting you in time out." He tried to sound stern but her attention snapped away from him and back to the acoustic guitar, her favorite toy.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you little shit." Eddie stares at Orion as she turns back to him and immediately starts biting his fingers.

It would hurt if it weren't for years of guitar and built up calluses. Sighing, he turns, walking back to bed with Orion in his hands as she continues her playful biting. He couldn't help but smile at her.

Even if she is an ornery little shit, she's still his ornery little shit.

Laying down Eddie sets her down in-between him and you.

You stir in your sleep, turning your head over your shoulder from laying on your side.

"Everything okay?" You ask, very tired sounding.

"Everything's fine Sweetheart. Orions just being herself again. Just go back to sleep." Eddie yawns as he feels the kitten start attacking his hand again.

You turn over as Eddie relaxes on his side, just letting Orion do her thing until she eventually gets tired.

"How can one small thing like her be so much trouble?" You ask, blinking the sleep from your eyes as you yawn.

"I asked myself the same thing about you when we first started dating." Eddie says, giving a soft smile in your direction before he notices Orion stops biting his fingers.

You roll your eyes with a smile before looking down at the cat curling up closer to Eddie.

Orion starts softly purring as Eddie scratches the top of her head.

"Just had to pacify her for a little while." He chuckles at looking back at you as you just smile at him and reach out to rub his forearm with your nails.

"Worst then a damn baby." He adds with a heavy sigh as he finally shuts his eyes, relaxing on his pillow.

"A cat? Really?" You laugh, shutting your eyes, staying it as a joke. "Does that mean you actually want to have a baby then?"

"I mean..." Eddie's eyes open, looking in your direction as he leaned over. "I wouldn't be against trying."

"Not with the cat in bed!"

Jonathan Byers

"I don't know, I've never owned a cat before!"

Jonathan stared at the mountain of white and brown fur lying belly up in the only streak of light on the living room floor.

"So... Is this like... All they do usually?" He questions, looking back at you folding a basket of laundry at the kitchen counter.

"Yeah pretty much. They just usually sleep unless they get sudden bursts of energy."

You look over at Patches, a pet of a coworker who asked you to watch her while on vacation. The cats had only been in the house for a few hours and Jonathan was fascinated by her so far.

"Huh..." Reaching for the end table, he grabs his camera, standing slowly up off the couch as he raises the camera to his eye.

The cat suddenly turned on her side. Jonathan groans.

"God damnit. That would have been such a nice picture..." Jonathan turned back to you as you were about to lift the basket of laundry. "No no no!"

Quickly dropping his camera on the couch cushion, as he grabs the basket from your hands, setting it back down.

"You heard what the doctor said. Nothing strenuous. You're supposed to be on bed rest anyway, go lay down." You stare at him, hand on your hip rubbing your very round stomach.

"Jonathan. It's a basket of laundry." He turns his head, giving you that kicked puppy look you can never resist.

'He's just trying to help because he's concerned. Don't get impatient with him.'

"I'm sorry, thank you for trying to help... But she's 4 days overdue. Walking around isn't going to hurt me. If anything, it helps."

"I know, I'm just so paranoid. I just want her here already." Jonathan sighs, picking the basket up and heads towards his shared bedroom.

You watch him set the basket on the bed and start putting laundry away from your spot next to the counter. Turning your head, you see Patches back to her position from before.

Waddling over to the couch, you grab Jonathan's camera, putting the strap around the back of your neck, you aim and shoot, finally capturing what your husband's been trying to achieve the past few hours.

You smile proud of yourself as you admire the adorableness this cat is. Walking closer, you realize she isn't running from you.

'He'd be so happy to have a close up.'

It's the least you could do for him with how on edge he's been the past few days.

Stepping closer, you squat, aim the camera at her precious face and snap the picture with a smile of admiration.

Satisfied with your work, you try to stand when you feel a... gusp of liquid suddenly fall out of you and onto the carpeted floor. Your eyes go wide staring at the spot under you.

"Oh... Oh no... Jonathan!" Quick footsteps come out of the room from behind you.

"Oh my God!" Jonathan rushes over to you, helping you stand up straight. "Is that your... Did it!?"

He can't seem to form a proper sentence as you feel relatively calm oddly enough.

"My water broke." His eyes go wide, he's obviously trying not to panic at the moment and he's not doing the best.

"Okay. Okay. Okay." He keeps repeating himself, looking around the living room.

"The bags in the hall closet." You start walking towards the front door as he jumps into action.

"The bag! Yes, the bag! I have my keys." He quickly moves to the hall closet, grabbing the bag and heads out the front door, shutting it behind him.

You stand there for a second, amazed almost... By how he forgot his pregnant wife.

"You! I forgot you, I'm so sorry!" He looks embarrassed as he comes rushing through the front door, putting an arm around you to help you outside. You can't help but laugh. It's odd seeing Jonathan start panicking since he's usually the calm one between you two.

"We should drive past where Hopper's posted at the edge of town and he can let Mom know. She'll call everyone..."

Reaching the front door, he looked back at Patches on the floor, completely unbothered by the sudden chaos.

"Do we... Take the cat with us?" Your head snaps around as you're about to step outside.

"To the hospital!?"

"I don't know, I've never owned a cat before!"

A year later...

"Jude, look at Mommy!" Your daughter lifts her head from her toys on the floor, looking up at you shaking a rattle. Jonathan quickly takes a picture of her in her special birthday outfit. The '1 year' crown on her head is a little too big for her.

You both laugh as she smiles up at you, the sweet moment soon ruined by the sound of nails against the kitchen floor as a short-haired Tortoiseshell cat comes running into the living room. Tumbling over nothing and launching herself off the floor, her back arched as she stared at her owners.

"Hi Bowie." Jonathan laughed looking at the cat, then back to Jude. The baby just stared at the cat, reaching her tiny hand out as if she could pet her from across the room. Bowie relaxed, walking over and rubbed against his smallest owner.

You both admire the cute sight that is your cat and daughter. Jonathan took a few pictures of the two of them together. Your eyes light up as an idea pops into your head.

"We should start making family picture Christmas cards this year." You smile, looking at Jonathan as he lowers his camera looking at you, very obviously amused by the idea.

"Buttercup," he starts, taking a soft breath before meeting your eyes and continuing, "it's August. Christmas is 5 months away. As much as I admire and love how you're planning ahead... Maybe not this early?"

"Aw c'mon Jon. Just picture it. Jude and Bowie in matching Christmas sweaters. It would be adorable!"

"You want Bowie in the picture?" He asks, chuckling softly as if he didn't already know the answer.

"She's apart from this family just as much as the rest of us. Aren't you Bow?" You both look over as Bowie freezes from grooming her smallest owner. Her mismatched eyes grow wide as she bolts off into another room in the house without even looking back.

"And to think... You didn't want her at first." Jonathan teases you before standing up to pull Jude into his arms.

"We just had Jude, she just fell into our lap at a weird time. I don't love her any less. I was just scared of juggling her and a newborn." Jonathan nodded, looking at Jude with a broad smile.

"God it's so hard to think she's 1 already." You turn, walking over to the counter, grabbing Jude's babybook the two of you had been looking at earlier that morning.

Flipping it open, you see the first picture of you holding her for the first time after just giving birth. Jonathan leaning over you from your left side.

Jude Joyce Byers August 26th 1993, so lovingly written in cursive under the photo.

You sniffle as Jonathan walks over with Jude.

"I know, she's already growing up." Jonathan reaches over, wiping his eyes with his thumb.

"You sound your mother." You say, stifling back a sob as you cling to your husband's open side. He chuckles, rubbing your back and kissing your forehead.

"I know, but at least mom isn't here to start crying with you. Not til later at the party."

"Geema!" Jude speaks, her 4 tooth smile lighting up the room. Jonathan and you immediately look at her. Both baffled.

"You... Did she just say Geema?!" You ask, a smile spreading on your face as Jonathan silently nods.

"Your first word on your birthday!?" Jonathan sniffs now, his eyes welling with tears quickly as he tries blinking them away and looking at the ceiling.

"Jonathan, it's okay. This is a good thing. She's just developing quickly." He shakes his head.

"She's 1 right now, but next thing you know she'll be graduating high school and bringing people home to meet us." You cover your mouth just watching your husband trying desperately to keep his composer. Jonathan looks down at Jude as he shakes his head.

"How about we not worrying about years and years from now?" You suggest, as he sighs, his face turning stern.

"You're not allowed to date anyone till you're 30." Jonathan tickles his daughter's stomach, cute giggling filling the living room as he smiles.

Bowie comes running in out of nowhere, bolting through the living room and grabbing all your attention. She runs into the kitchens, nails hitting the linoleum floor. A hollow crashing noise is heard in the kitchen. You sigh as you look at Jonathan.

"Leave it to Bowie to ruin a sentimental moment."