#jonathan byers x male 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?

[scentedpepper]

Cinderellas Slipper

BILLY HARGROVE X MALE READER

Summary: Billy tries to apologize but loses his slipper instead.

Content Warnings: "Queer" used in a derogatory manner. Brief mention of Billy and Reader having sexual relations. Established Relationships/Lore

Other Pairing(s): Steve Harrington x Male Reader, Jonathan Byers x Male Reader, Will Byers x Male Reader, Nancy Wheeler x Billy Hargrove (implied not said)

AUTHOR NOTE(S):

Writing specific scenes that pop into my head is much easier than committing to an entire fanfic :p

Feeling kinda meh abt this one guys idddkkkk

Uhhhhh Billy is gay bc I say so

No but that headcanon really gets my writer loins spinnin

The depth

Anyway

Billy's a wee bit jealous

👍

_________________________________________

Billy's not sure what lead him to this point.

But the moment he steps out of his Camaro he has to pause, place his hands on his hips, and pace. Once. Twice. Three times for good measure before his attention is redirected to his destination.

Depot Central.

"Hawkins for the Family" Or so the sign outside had stated.

It's 4:30 in the afternoon, you've only been on shift for 30 minutes.

Three and a half hours to go.

Billy has memorized your schedule like the back of his hand.

The depot wasn't small by any means, but most of its stores closed at the latest of six due to its small town status. The depot itself mainly used the second story to hoard it's products, what couldn't fit through the windows displayed itself like an open antique shop on the 1st floor, the remaining area that couldn't be utilized by the display lay store merchandise.

This was the third time in a row he'd come back to the depot.

The first time he'd be stepping inside.

If the place had more customers he would've stalled a little longer, maybe considered another 3 rounds of pacing the parking lot but there was no one in front of him when he stood off to the side, peering through the windows.

His hands find his hips again, pressing agaisnt the brown leather belt adorning his dark blue jeans. It was new. He'd went out and bought it a few days ago. Even went as far as hiding between the aisles of the women's section trying to scope out style.

He didn't buy the pink or purple belt, regardless of how "nice" you said those colors were on him. Instead, by a random struck of luck that felt unwarranted, he'd found one even more perfect. One in which the gems were arranged in a way that made it look like the night sky.

Fucking space because you were into that shit or whatever.

Gemstones on top of silver. And Billy felt like a star on the belt, big and prominent.

Maybe that was wishful thinking. He couldn't really reject the feeling of suffocating when the gems shined in the sunlight through the window panes beside him.

Girly.

Feminine.

Queer.

Billy tries to ignore them and in the process, he considers ditching his clothing choices for today and giving in to his original idea. But even so, with all he's been through, Billy isn't really aware that the things he's learned from you have stuck this long.

He'd scrubbed himself raw in the bathroom just 30 minutes ago. And he made sure to perfectly place the top portion of his maroon button up that was peeled open. And he dabbed cologne on every inch of his body, just in case the amount he had initially put on wasn't enough. And while he was driving he made sure to keep the cigarettes in his dash because he knew the smell, reminiscent of your father, was the sole reason you had never picked them up throughout your teenager years. Not even to just try.

So once more, everything right down to his clean socks were an item of scrutiny. He even had spare deodorant in his car if he started to sweat.

And for what? He didn't fucking know.

The urge to repeat his pacing however came and he knew very well what that meant.

He was thinking about turning around.

But to make sure his body isn't going the opposite direction, he checks his front pockets where two cards were securely nestled in.

Dare Billy say he was almost scared.

He feels sweat starting to prick on the back of his neck, underneath his perfectly defined curls –he didn't even want to think about the measures he went to learn how to make them look so pretty– and he ducks back into his car, deciding he should just put the deodorant everywhere.

As he fumbles for the anti perspirant in his dash, feet sticking out of the car and body pressing against the middle console awkwardly, he realizes that he's almost forgotten the singular rose that he specifically taped to head of his passenger seat so he wouldn't forget it.

Quickly, Billy retrieves the rose and proceeds to rub himself down with the light spray of deodorant.

And despite his previous antsy nature, when he finally goes to walk to the entrance of the store, his face is the perfect mix between cool and ready. But his eyebrows are furrowed, a giveaway to the turmoil going on in his head.

Once the doors slide open, the chimes on top barely audible in the distance, Billy's face twitches ever so slightly when he realizes who is bent over the checkout counter, chatting you up, eliciting deep, rumbling laughter from your wide chest.

Steve.

Billy makes sure the displeasure is gone from his face with a blink of the eyes before he's approaching the two with nonchalant grace. He makes sure his gait is perfect and makes no noise against the flooring of the store, this way he can spy on your conversation from behind the taller shelves of canned food.

He listens close enough to pick up the murmurings of some new ice cream recipe you had apparently tried over the weekend with Will and Jonathan. Sounded absolutely disgusting to Billy. There was pecan and raspberry involved, as well as a hint of honey which would be fine if it wasn't inside frozen food.

But Billy found himself not really paying attention to the words being exchanged, moreso the tone.

Or, more importantly– how Steve said them. Emphasized certain vowels that he wouldn't unless he was in the presence of someone really close.

Just the thought tightens his grip on the small rose clasped tightly in between his fingers and he decides to finally make himself known by making a detour into the candy aisle beside the front desk, going over to get a pack of black liquorish and throwing the item down at the counter for you to ring up.

Your eyes fling up in startle, as though you hadn't noticed Billy at all until the very moment he slammed the unsavory candy on the counter, the plastic brushing a strand of Steve's hair on the way down.

Maybe it was a little bit of an overreaction, but he couldn't help it.

There were instances in which Billy acted purely upon instinct or impulse. Moments in which he let those feelings go to his head and not only let it manifest into words, sometimes that energy even moved his entire body without asking.

You had paused mid-sentence to take in the scene before you. How could you not?

Steve was dumbfounded. Not because the candy was an offense to his palate but because the intensity with which Billy pushed the packaged item towards you was a big one.

Steve moved away from the man looming over his shoulder, offended for his friend across the counter.

The first time Steve had walked in on you two, Billy wanted to kill him –almost killed him. Whatever he was about to retort would most likely have the same outcome.

Because it didn't matter how nicely Billy dressed or spoke to you, Steve could still see the shadow of Billy in his mind, a storm all his own lurking underneath flesh.

"We're still talking. " The brunette finally speaks up, motioning back and forth between himself and you.

Billy snorts and rolls his eyes, trying his hardest not to call the boy across from him something more obscene than asshole because he knows it would lose him any chance of speaking to you.

"You're a worker, right? " Billy plants his forearm on the counter, mocking Steve's pervious position.

"Work. " He spits.

You stare back at him pointedly, hands on your waist before you grab the item and run it across the scanner. A green light graces you skin and a beep fills the empty room.

"52 cents, sir. " You retort simply.

Sir.

Sir.

"Sir?" Billy reels, face controrting into disgust. The word burned all over, and surely the older boy in front of him knew how much that word would affect him. He must've known that it'd make Billy Hargrove piss his pants.

You did.

But nevertheless, Billy pulls his wallet out and drops a five on the counter, telling you to keep the rest.

The plastic covering of the candy crinkles under your fingers as you lift it from the counter, passing it back to the blonde.

Your fingers brush beneath the packaging and all air seems to whoosh out of Billy's lung in response.

You meets his eyes in the middle.

It's silent for a moment.

–Save for Steve who's munching on the same type of candy just off to the side.

The blonde blinks, once, twice. His brows raising again like they had in his car. Billy can feel it, and he fights the urge to pull his fingers away but he doesn't, both of your hands just dangling there for a minute longer.

"Mm!" Steve chokes suddenly, wincing right after as the liquorish becomes a glob in his mouth and his body jerks backwards in discomfort.

It breaks the moment but Billy has an easier time collecting himself than his competitor.

"Steve. " You exclaim and you make a move towards him, patting your friends back with exaggerated aggression.

"I'm okay. " He rasps. "I'm okay. " He raises his hands up in the air but his words deceive him as he starts another fit of coughing.

After a minute or so of more gagging and choking and violent beatings on the back, Steve finally manages to swallow, with a loud groan of course.

You manage a laugh at the boys struggle, masking the noise the bell atop the door makes when it flies open.

And when you turn back around, half a grin still on your face, you're met with emptiness.

That, and a singular rose haphazardly placed on the counter.

[percybeloved]

"my pretty little stalker"

jonathan byers x male reader

contains - stalking, strip teasing (kinda)

unedited

that one scene where jonathan takes pics of a half naked nancy, but its instead steve's younger brother who was undressing to go to sleep after a stressful day at work. jonathan takes pictures as you settle into bed and finally go to sleep. when steve finds out, he's livid. expect to have all the curtains closed 24/7 because theres no way that the byers boy is going to try to fuck his brother. during school one day, steve gets really sick and finds out its a stomach bug that he got from mike and nancy. to risk you not getting sick, he ends up quarantining with the wheelers. that means sweet freedom for you. as soon as you get home, you open all the curtains and dance around your empty house in nothing but the tightest boxers he could find. you have a feeling that your stalker is there, taking pictures of you. you peer outside and see the byers boy in the bushes, camera in hand. he'd been by everyday to find a way to take more pictures of you. why just leave him out there bored? in the most discreet way possible, you gave him a show. you started by swaying your hips to the music. slowly, you slide your boxers down a little to reveal your hips. but almost just as quickly, you pull them back up and grin straight at the byers boy. jonathan looks at you, shocked. you point a finger at him and then towards yourself. not even a few seconds later, theres a light knock downstairs. slowly, you make your way to it and grab the knob. a slight twist and theres your boy, standing there, ready to take you in anyway he could.

[decadentworld]

hey dude! how about C O Y D for the ask game for jonathan?

18+ after the cut (intended for sub/bottom Jonathan Byers x Dom/Top Male reader)

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

Jonathan is such a minx. He loves cum play of all types. He loves big amounts of cum on him, in him, in his mouth, all over his face. Likes how it makes him feel that he was the one who made you cum that hard. Loves it when you cum in him and it drips out.

For such a small guy he can cum pretty hard and substantially if his orgasm is strong enough. He’ll be embarrassed if it hits you or your face but you’ll just laugh and collect it on your fingers to feed it to him.

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

In theory, he would love to give you head, but there’s just a problem. You might just be too big for his mouth💁 So he tries his best, even if you don’t fit in him. Poor boy is probably sad about this but you reassure him. All in all, he majorly prefers giving head rather than receiving, but he’ll never outright refuse to receive a blowjob, since it’s one of the easiest and fastest ways to make him cum hard enough to cry.

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

He didn’t use to be so horny. He and Nancy were pretty vanilla and even then, they weren’t that sexually active. Now that you and him are together it’s like his libido has gone up without him noticing. He’ll be constantly horny, nervous that he’ll get hard if he so much as thinks about all the things you do when you’re together. Sometimes, he even needs to rub one out before a date, so that he won’t run the risk of getting hard in the middle of it if you don’t both intend to have sex later.

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

Jonathan feels kind of guilty about this, but he’d like to have a threesome someday. The thought of being spitroasted has him muffling an obscene moan into his pillow. Something that gets him so hard to the point of hurting is thinking about being double penetrated (two in the same hole). It’s a very unrealistic fantasy, given that he can barely fit you in him, but sue him, he’s horny.

Oh and well, the safe box with toys I’ve talked about in my fic.

[gwiyeounsonyeon]

out of all the people you write for in cod watchdogs and strangerthings who is most to least kinky

COD i dont think a lot of these men would be diabolically kinky, like they see enough shit on a daily basis, i think they just want to be loved.

BUT-

Konig and Ghost are at the top of the list, they're into some weird shit konig moreso they're both into size difference stuff, like,

ghost cant get over how small you feel in his hands, it turns him on so fast. he covers up for it by teasing you or playfully being mean, bullying your cock if its smaller than his, poking fun at how wet your cunt is when he hasn't even touched you yet, stuff like that...

i also think he might be into bullying or degradation, not to him of course, if you try to bully him he gets all fussy but as soon as the tables are turned hes relentless.

konig LOVES your size difference, i wholeheartedly believe this man is a sub-leaning, he can still dom he just needs to be in the mood for it first but thats pretty rare. so if you're tiny and you can still dom someone the size of him hes head over heals swooning for you. if you top him AND dom him hes actually in love.

hes got some other nasty kinks as well, i can feel it

third place is a close tie between soap and price,

price is super into taboo stuff, it just takes a minute to unlock that side of him. he likes being called daddy and sir and LOVES roleplay

soap is an exhibitionist, you can't argue with me on this one. he pulling you to every little nook and cranny he knows of and having at it. there was one point in his life where he couldn't have sex in normal places like he just couldn't get hard at all unless there was a chance you could get caught.

Stranger Things

first place is Johnathan, youu know that saying i think its like the quiet people are always the freakiest.

hes nasty, i can feel it in my bones.

he LOVES taking photos of you and himself, he gets off on knowing you're probably jerking off to one of his pictures.

slight exhibitionist, he likes going to develop his photos in public dark rooms, the thought of someone seeing one gets him all hot and bothered.

hes kind of into cnc, as far as his photos, nothing more than taking pictures of you without you knowing you've already consented before

next in line HAS got to be eddie, theres someone i cant remember the name of who hc's him as a virgin and i whole heartedly believe it, hes had so much time to just sit and think, hes got so many filthy little fantasies and hes so pent up

he likes being edged, hes only thought about it, every time hes tried he ends up getting too desperate and making himself cum anyway, if its by accident or not.

he gets off on being called a pervert, maybe a freak but only if its in an explicitly playful way, theres a fine line and honestly its better to steer clear of degradation unless he states he wants it outright.

he likes being made to say what he wants, he likes to act confident and stuff but as soon as it comes to actually having sex hes so nervous.

i also think he really latches onto nonsexual domination, not like anything aggressive just if you nonchalantly do something that strikes as dominant in your every day life he starts getting hot and bothered like, telling him to do something "answer the phone, I'm busy" or "move i need to get over there" he likes a man who can assert himself without being overly aggressive.

steve and controversially billy have to be the most vanilla,

as much as i want to say steve is a kinky degenerate, hes not. hes a rich white boy with no parents, he probably just wants to be comforted during sex.

but that doesnt mean he wont try things you want to try, hes open to suggestions you have. the kinkiest thing hes ever initiated would probably be heavy making out along with some frottage in a public bathroom.

billy is heavily traumatized and very like self-repressive and oppressive, he hates himself for being gay and he probably won't let you touch him like that for the longest time.

WATCH DOGS!!!!!!!!!!!! i was so excited to get this one, i never get watch dogs asks but i love my babies sm

first on the list is wrench, duh. the guys a fucking degenerate, he wants to try any and everything, no matter what it is.

i think his personal favorites are choking, cameras/filming, wearing women's underwear, and exhibitionism less so in legion

he doesnt like being called or calling you daddy unironically, it gives him the ick if its done seriously.

second is probably jordi. the more i think about it the more i think he might be kinkier than wrench but jori knows what he likes whereas wrench will do anything.

jordis into objectifying, hes not really the kind of guy to turn to a sex worker, i see him as a fuck buddies guy purely because he thinks hes too old/his job is too much to have a real relationship with you but he still acts like your boyfriend and he gets possessive in the way where he stalks you and your socials for more info about that new guy you're hanging out with. he wants to be the only guy you fuck and what he wants he gets.

jordi also favorites rough sex and choking and he likes cumming inside you whether you like it or not.

hes also super into spending money on you but only when it benefits him, he'll whine and complain if you ask him to buy you a charger or something but hes all over buying you like expensive ass lingerie or something

in last place is marcus, im sorry but he doesn't give me kinky vibes, the kiniest hes ever gotten was playing the weekend and turned the leds red while you fucked

[steveisagay]

My Masterlist!

So I write for Stranger things and yeah

Steve Harrington

American Pie (Part 1) (you can read all the parts here btw) - Steve struggles with accepting himself and accepting that he's inlove with his best friend

Jonathan Byers

"So, what's with the pictures?" (Part 1) (you can read them all here) - transmasc!Y/N finds a few risque photos taken by Jonathan

Eddie Munson

"It's okay, you did good today," -M!reader comes home from work stressed and Eddie helps make it better

Co-parenting Requires Effort - Y/N's ex comes back after struggling with raising their baby and Y/N needs to figure out how to tell his boyfriend, Eddie

Jason Carver

"It's okay, I'll fix it... I promise." - After trying and trying, Jason and reader finally get their little miracle, but then it's ripped away

Billy Hargrove

Billy's Big Decision - Billy has an episode and shaves his hair off (Metalsandwich)

Munver

How to fix the damage - (you can find all parts (so far) here) disabled munver has my heart so I've been writing disabled munver

Headcanons/blurbs

How they'd be with a pagan reader

How they'd be with a screamo singer

They find out their s/o writes poetry about them

How they'd be with a plus sized reader

[bjtch-craft]

About Me!!

Hi, my name is Wyatt and I'm "new" to writing. I put new in heavy-ass questions because I've been writing stories since elementary school but I've been told I'm pretty good at it so do with that what you will! But I am new to writing fanfiction. I've been reading it for years and decided to dip my toes into this genre! This is also a MLM blog so if you are a woman or fem aligned please don't interact with this page thank you! I'm also a POC so some of my stories might have a slight nod to textured hair and brown skin but I'll almost always try to shy away from doing this! But you can always request a certain race. Anyways happy reading!!!

Fandoms I'll write for

Fear Street

Scream 1996-Present

The Quarry

Slasher Characters such as Brahms, Michael, Jason, Etc

Spider-Man (Any universe)

The White Lotus

Halloween 1978-2022

Stranger Things

American Psycho

What I'll Probably Write About

Fluff (Please request this y'all!!)

Smut (Maybe)

Angst (Definitely)

Characters I'll write for

Chad Meeks-Martin

Danny Bracket

Simon Kalivoda

Nick Goode

Quinn Mossbacher

Stu Macher

Billy Loomis

Brahms Heelshire

Jacob Custos

Dylan Levinny

Miles Morales

Pavitr Prabhakar

Peter Parker (Tom, Andrew, and Tobey)

Prince Eric (Live action because he to mf fine)

Corey Cunningham

Jonathan Byers

Steve Harrington

Jason Carver

Lucas Sinclair

Michael Myers

Jason Voorhees

Patrick Bateman

Miguel O'Hara

This blog is for a male-targeted audience so if you are fem aligned in any way please stay off this page. Thank you!

[arriansarchive]

could you do soft dom!top!male reader x jonathan byers where it's his first time and he's really whiny but reader is super gentle about it? thank you

Sub!Jonathan Byers/Soft!Dom!Male!Reader

Ugh I love this sm

I usually don't go for soft dom reader or soft reader ANYTHING but I like this one so I tried

Warnings: my first full on smut story, so yeah fucking included

I hope it's good enough because I really do like this prompt

This might be a little short because I just don't know how to do soft smut so I'm sorry

Okay thank you anon!!!!

Summary: Jonathan's first time.

"Y/N, it hurts." Jonathan whined as you pushed into him slowly.

He had came to you earlier wanting to talk about something serious. Of course you had said yes, and he told you that he wanted you to fuck him.

Now this surprised you since Jonathan never really seemed the type to want to do this. You asked him why he just decided this now.

He seemed content in letting your mind roam around the fact and simply climbed on top of you, kissing roughly.

A second later clothes were off, and that's how you got here with Jonathan whining under you. You felt a little bad for him since it was his first time, but you also knew that he would say his word if he felt too bad about it.

"I get that, but if you want to do this you'll have to stick with it for a second or two." You grunt and push in a little further to which he gives a groan.

"You haven't ever taken it up the ass. Do you really get it?" He asked incredulously.

You raise an eyebrow in question. "How would you know?"

"Have you taken a look at yourself?"

"You might be right, but that was just rude."

You smiled softly whenever your hips hit him, and you were all the way in. Jonathan had gotten so distracted by talking that he didn't even notice that you were pushing into him bit by bit.

You saw something in his face flicker from pain to pleasure. His eyes grew a little darker, and Jonathan's bottom lip was crushed in-between his teeth

You started to pull out, moans from both of you filling the room. The warmness radiating from your bodies could heat an entire room.

You looked down at your boyfriend's stomach to see pre-cum leaking from his tip, beads of it rolling down and onto the bottom of his diaphragm.

You pushed back in while stroking him painfully slowly. He arched his back in ecstasy, and you got a smug smile on your face.

"What are you smiling about?" He asked, pausing to wince between words.

"I'm just happy to be your first." You admit and put your hands down on his hips to grind him against you quicker.

You felt your release coming and stuttered out a warning that went to deaf ears.

Again it was said. "Jonathan, where?"

He mumbled something along the lines of 'not in', so you obliged and pulled out swiftly. You took both of yourselves in one hand and slid up and down furiously.

You groaned out as he let a whine slip whenever you both came. Your hand was now covered, and it made slick noises until you eventually got down from your high.

"That was almost too good." He breathed.

You chuckled and little and went to grab a rag to clean you both off. After that was finished, you collapsed next to him.

He pulled you towards him and hugged tightly, thanking you silently.

Before you dozed off you heard him utter. "I love you."

[bloodyshadow737]

↓Series↓

↓Mini-series↓

↓One Shot↓

↓Imagines↓

†★Masterlist of everything★†

[siblingsweethearts]

Y'know I think I could get Jonathan & Will pregnant in the same night if I really put my mind to it

[marrziy]

RAIO-X: Stranger Things

★: Hopper, Steve, Jonathan, Billy, Eddie e Enzo.

+18 leitores & leitoras.

Nenhum pouco de acordo com os imagines; neles, eu descrevo como convém. Aqui são apenas achismos meus, baseados no que aparenta para mim (com aquela dose de licença poética, pois amo um exagero).

★: Jim Hopper

24 cm — não se gaba, mas reconhece o colosso entre as pernas e tem orgulho dele.

Grossura: muito acima da média.

Do tipo que arromba e impressiona quando alojado dentro de algum buraco. Encaixado numa buceta, força os lábios tão longe que o inchaço é quase imediato. Já atolado num cuzinho, alarga tanto que deixa as bordas vermelhas e o formato da própria circunferência como lembrança.

Balança/Curvatura: reto e muito pesado.

Ao pulsar, é alavancado, mas, devido ao peso, nunca permanece de pé. Para colocar na boca, é necessário guiá-lo com as mãos até os lábios ou curvar-se perante a glande.

Cor: alguns tons mais escuros que a pele; fica mais aparente quando está mole. A cabecinha é rosada.

Veias: grossas e de um azul visível na base, mas afinam no caminho, deixando de protuberar no comprimento.

Glande: quando mole, a ponta é completamente coberta pelo prepúcio; quando duro, é exibida até a metade. Se forçada durante a masturbação ou penetração, a cabecinha é totalmente exposta. O pré-sêmen acumulado costuma estalar, produzindo um som molhado no ritmo da movimentação.

Pau babão. No auge da dureza, vaza muito. Você saberá que é o mais gostoso/a do recinto aos olhos dele se conseguir deixá-lo de farda molhada, sendo que cueca úmida é o padrão para o chefe de polícia.

Pelos: Não liga muito para eles (diferente do bigode). Raramente depila a virilha e, quando o faz, é com aparador barato, cuja eficiência não é lá grande coisa.

Bolas: Pesadas e rechonchudas; espancadoras de quadril. Poluição sonora garantida caso o sexo seja bruto.

Porra: Goza até transbordar.

Sêmen branco, salgado, espesso e mil por cento fértil. Jorros pouco potentes, mas o esperma é abundante e ininterrupto; se Jim atinge o ápice, são uma ou duas sequências de jatos grossos até secar, sem pausas. Caso você tenha útero e não queira engravidar, camisinha ultra-resistente já!

★: Steve Harrington

19.5 cm — longe das réguas, ele arredonda para 20.

Grossura: na média.

O pau de Steve marca. Mesmo amolecido, é volumoso, e, dependendo da calça, dificilmente passará despercebido. Há sempre um caroço esticando o tecido; é impossível sentar no colo dele sem sentir. Steve gosta quando reparam e faz questão de acompanhar o olhar baixo de quem nota.

Balança/Curvatura: reto e um tanto pesado.

Não é suave ao ponto de bater no abdômen, nem denso o suficiente para alcançar as coxas. Um cacete perfeitamente posicionado para meter.

Cor: comprimento pouco escuro, não chegando a inibir o vermelho da excitação. A glande segue a cor, em uma tonalidade levemente mais forte.

Veias: finas e pouco marcadas.

Glande: torneira humana! Escorre pré-sêmen pra caralho sob pressão e umedece da ponta às bolas. É muito sensível na dureza; o simples roçar da cueca deixa o Harrington eriçado. Tem prepúcio, mas a pele só cobre a ponta por influência, quando Steve se movimenta ou quando é estimulado.

Pelos: por vontade de estar liso, nunca beirou uma lâmina, mas, para pegar mulher, caso a moça prefira, ele se dispõe a ficar com a virilha macia. Se você for um cara que quer mamar uma piroca lisinha: bye bye. Ele só move um dedo para agradar homem caso esteja extremamente apaixonado ou se o cara fizer muito o tipo dele.

Bolas: tamanho padrão. Boas de colocar na boca, pois não se espalham sem precedentes, e as chances de relar nos dentes são baixas. Steve as posiciona para cima na calça, aparentando ter mais conteúdo do que realmente tem lá dentro.

Porra: não desperdiça um Steve Júnior sequer.

Esperma líquido e transparente, de um amargor quase imperceptível, mas notável. Goza cargas fortes que vão fundo no interior de quem ele fode e raramente transborda, pois ele não deixa escorrer. Gosta de se despedir sabendo que deixou sua semente plantada nas entranhas de alguém.

★: Jonathan Byers

16 cm — brisado, já refletiu sobre ter mais saco que pinto.

Grossura: ligeiramente acima da média.

Cacete bastante responsivo, que vibra entre as paredes quentinhas de uma boceta e pulsa em tom de ameaça precoce no aperto de uma bunda. Muito enérgico e apressado, sem tempo para tirar a roupa!

Balança/Curvatura: maneiro e levemente curvado para cima. Super erguido, batendo no abdômen ao ser liberto. Pau fácil de manusear.

Cor: o comprimento apresenta uma tonalidade clara de pêssego, enquanto a ponta esbanja um rosa forte.

Veias: azuis, visíveis e pouco protuberantes.

Glande: metade superior de um coração, com globos perfeitos. Sem capuz e vagamente dobrada para cima. Gotas peroladas escorrem moderadamente da fenda, deixando-a brilhosa numa nota cativante de rosa. Sensibilidade alta.

Pelos: gosta da sensação de estar liso, mas não faz tanta questão de estar. Se tiver ânimo para gastar mais tempo no banho ou antes de sair com alguém, caso preveja uma foda, provavelmente depilará a virilha. Acontece, no máximo, duas vezes ao mês.

Bolas: Caídas, pesadas e espaçosas; em abundância para qualquer esporte. Acumulam muito, e, se Jonathan passa tempo demais sem transar, na hora de afogar o ganso, afogará no próprio gozo dentro do buraco que acabou de inundar. Gosta de meter devagarinho para sentir-se selando o interior da pessoa, com a pressão das bolas na entrada que alarga.

Porra: orgasmo teatral.

Sêmen branco, um pouco salgado e líquido. Jatos potentes entre pausas dramáticas; a primeira erupção vem abundante, e as demais enfraquecem com vagareza. Enquanto goza, Jonathan continua metendo, forte e erraticamente, errando o buraco em algumas investidas devido à euforia que o envolve, desperdiçando cargas no chão ou entre as coxas de quem está comendo. Fica mais agitado a cada jorrada e não tem previsão de quando o saco parará de contrair e lançar esperma.

★: Billy Hargrove

18 cm — ele adora a circunferência farta que carrega no meio das pernas.

Grossura: muito acima da média.

Billy gosta de foder podendo intercalar a atenção entre seu pau entrando e as expressões que são dadas a ele. Um caralho grosso da raíz a ponta, que provoca quando visto e desafia limites quando inserido, sempre esticando entradinhas até não poder mais e, para o divertimento do loiro, arrancando as mais exageradas e variadas reações dos alegremente arrependidos que caem em seu colo.

Pobrezinho... Nunca encontrou alguém capaz de levá-lo inteiramente na boca. Até mãos grandes o suficiente para circundá-lo são difíceis de achar.

Balança/Curvatura: pesado e reto. Pau que pende um pouco para baixo, mas não a ponto de precisar ser conduzido. É denso demais para pulsar intensamente, mas compensa ao aparentar estar num latejar pausado, constante no mais forte dos ápices.

Cor: comprimento rosa-quente, um bocado mais escuro que o tom predominante no corpo. Ponta vermelha.

Veias: não se percebe o azul sob a pele, mas são volumosas, e pelo menos duas delas se destacam nas laterais, estendidas da base até o corte. Algumas protuberam na virilha.

Glande: antes do orgasmo, libera pouquíssimo pré-sêmen para ajudar no manuseio; nem as células do filho da puta facilitam a vida de quem o cerca. Razoavelmente sensível, sem prepúcio e muito inchada na dureza.

Pelos: nessa piroca não! Billy se depila constantemente; é quase impossível encontrar um pentelho crescido na região. Talvez tope com alguns em fase de crescimento poucos dias após o aparo, mas nunca no auge. Billy não odeio os fiozinhos, mas prefere em infinitas vidas a pele sem eles.

Bolas: sempre cheias e ansiosas para gastar. O tamanho é o mesmo com ou sem tesão, e até no frio a mudança é mínima. Costumam marcar em calças justas; Billy constantemente verifica se elas não estão divididas pela costura do jeans.

Porra: trava o quadril e só sai quando está satisfeito.

Gozo quente, branco e relativamente transparente. Billy libera cargas espessas, recheando sem miséria e acalentando o interior que recém espancou. Permanece um bom tempo fincado até a virilha, latejando, enchendo, e só retorna o caminho ao ser empurrado para fora pela própria essência, sempre ansioso para vê-la vazar borbulhando de uma bordinha inchada e pulsante.

★: Eddie Munson

21 cm — ele genuinamente queria ser menos pauzudo; considera a própria pica uma vadia inconveniente.

Grossura: ligeiramente acima da média.

Duro, costuma escapar pelo cós da calça. Eddie até evita usar shorts fora de casa e, se usa, são bem grandes, para evitar que a cabecinha escape pela barra da perna. Cuecas ajudam, mas Eddie não gosta muito de usá-las. Ele se excita facilmente e raramente se vê meia-bomba, endurecendo sempre até o pico, pulsando tanto na calça que chega a doer.

A excitação é incômoda; deixa o Munson extremamente rijo, jurando poder demolir uma casa inteira usando o pau como marreta. Ele geralmente se perde durante o sexo, pulsando violentamente e metendo brutalmente, querendo gozar mais do que tudo.

Balança/Curvatura: reto e muito leve.

Apesar do tamanho, o pau de Eddie não pesa quase nada e é bastante flexível, apontado para frente não devido à gravidade, mas, sim, por ser a posição natural de seu pênis. Quando livre da cueca, bate no abdômen, ultrapassando a altura do umbigo. Não possui prepúcio.

Cor: imita o tom da pele, ou seja, claro que só. O vermelho da cabecinha escorre da ponta, colorindo parte do comprimento abaixo dela.

Veias: pouquíssimo aparentes.

Glande: pouco responsiva no geral, mas uma grande catalisadora de tudo que é bom durante o clímax.

Pelos: quando o pensamento de apará-los surge, "foda-se" é a resposta mental programada. Eddie tem preguiça de se depilar, costuma desistir antes mesmo de tocar no aparador e fica genuinamente frustrado com a velocidade com que os pelos crescem. Tem queda por ficar lisinho antes de usar o pau; só um rabo de shortinho é capaz de fazê-lo tirar o lacre da Gillette.

Bolas: de pouca presença, um tanto ofuscadas pelo mastro comprido, mas se fazem audíveis na transa ao se chocarem contra o quadril alheio.

Porra: todo clímax é o melhor que já teve.

Viscosa, com pouco sabor e muito grudenta, podendo vir branca ou transparente. Graças aos efeitos potentes acoplados ao tesão, Eddie explode, como se cada fibra do corpo acompanhasse seu orgasmo; o prazer que sente é alucinante. Ele urra, com as bolas convulsionando e o comprimento palpitando, despejando uma carga tão farta e copiosa que não seria surpresa caso uma poça de porra se formasse sobre a cama, sofá, chão, mesa ou bancada.

★: Dmitri Antonov

20 cm — Enzo é amigo da própria peça e, se conseguir brecha para falar sobre o tamanho, ele falará.

Grossura: ligeiramente acima média.

Adora foder vestido. Em um top 10 orgasmos, pelo menos cinco seriam com ele de pica marcada na cueca ou na calça, esfregando o volume entre as pernas de alguém, e nos outros cinco, apenas com o zíper aberto e o pau para fora, atolado num buraquinho apertado.

Dmitri é apaixonado por atingir o clímax sob limites. Sente que alcança o máximo possível do celeste em vida ao afogar uma buceta em esperma usando somente a cabeça do pau, ou ao ser cavalgado de forma tortuosamente lenta por uma bunda farta, quase colapsando enquanto é impedido de ditar o próprio ritmo e de meter até às bolas.

Balança/Curvatura: um pouco pesado e bastante educado, sempre apontando a direção ➜ ➜ ➜

Levemente curvado para o lado e denso o suficiente para que o impacto faça tremer, ele ama chocar e esfregar na pele. É um homem que se entretém batendo e roçando o pau no rosto do parceiro/a. Para ele, foder entre as coxas ou os peitos, e deslizar sobre uma barriguinha quente, é mais divertido do que a penetração em si.

Cor: segue a coloração da pele, mas em tons mais escuros. O mesmo vale para a ponta, com a adição do rubro irritadiço característico da excitação.

Veias: algumas linhas de cor visíveis, mas é, majoritariamente, um pau liso.

Glande: um cogumelo rechonchudo muito sensível, capaz de arrancar dele choramingos manhosos e gemidos roucos. Libera bastante pré-sêmen, e o prepúcio, sob estímulo, não cobre mais que metade da ponta.

Pelos: gosta do meio termo. Muito o desagrada, mas também detesta a sensação da pele pura, sem nada áspero para equilibrar.

Bolas: constantemente inchadas e perfeitamente cabíveis na mão, boas de apertar. Enzo ama ter seu pau mimado; é óbvio que ele não irá dispensar uma carícia nas bolas.

Porra: mais para fora do que para dentro.

Esperma abrasador, um alívio em dias frios. Branco e muito líquido, vindo em esguichos fortes e sequenciais. Goza um pouco rápido, mas o lance dele é atingir vários clímaces e se derramar em diferentes partes do corpo. Qualquer pedaço de pele, dos pés à cabeça, é válido. Leita perto das beiras para ver a porra vazar e cobrir a entrada, empurrando com tudo para dentro em seguida, alojando o esperma fundo nas entranhas. Gosta de capotar abraçado, com os corpos grudentos.

Acho que coloquei coisa demais, não sei até onde ficou interessante 😬, mas e aí, em qual dessas pikas vcs sentariam? Queria ir quicando de uma pra outra aff 😮‍💨

—★💋📂: HOT masterlist

—★🎃📂: HORROR masterlist

[scentedpepper]

Attempted Vehicular Manslaughter

BILLY HARGROVE X MALE READER

Summary: Max Mayfield hosts a pool party.

Content Warnings: Use of the F-slur, Use of Queer in a derogatory manner, Injuries, Verbal Abuse, Abusive Household Dynamics, Reader makes a 'if I wanna kms' joke

Other Pairings: Nancy Wheeler x Male Reader, Jonathan Byers x Male Reader, Max Mayfeild x Male Reader, Mike Wheeler x Male Reader

AUTHOR NOTE(S):

Oh brother we got a chatterbox

Had a dream about this ya'll

Readers a little sassy

Reader has a little brother

Reader has a bit of savior complex

Readers also kinda impulsive?

It's 3 am

_________________________________________

The grass was rough and patchy in the backyard, filled to the brim with wilted daisies and weeds crawling through the sprinklers. It was hardly worth a note of much consideration, as there had been nothing of great importance to discuss. There were many trees boarding the house. Pine or oak, maybe. And one dying cherry tree that was a stand alone in the yard. That was about the extent of anything substantial past the old silver fence that matched your shoes.

Nearest the house, under the shade, were several lawn chairs designated for the so-called "chaperones". The older brothers and sisters of the tweens. But really, it was nothing more than a cover-up.

Something to appease the parents' of the Hargrove house because Max knew it was odd to be friends with a group of kids the same age as her brother. Even her mother, who'd tried to remain impartial to any situation, narrowed her eyes and shifted her purse tighter when the suggestion of more than a couple 17 year old's parading around her house came.

Your mom was just happy you got along, let alone made some real friends outside the books, and encouraged the notion. More parental control, she reasoned. Less chances you were off with someone who intended on trouble.

Of course, all the shit about fighting monsters and being on the brink of death with these same friends wasn't factored in.

But no one besides them and the sheriff's deputy needed to know that.

The first time you had met the kids was, admittedly, what one would refer to as a kerfuffle. Riled up and trying to be dominant. Of course, because Billy was there, it spiraled even farther, and someone's head nearly got bashed into a rock.

That someone being you of obviously, after you'd been goaded into the fight and decided to step up. And boy, did Billy hate to lose. Hated being talked down to by a smaller kid who barely had pimples left on his face, let alone bulk.

You put up a good fight. You had a mean hit, especially the lick you gifted to Billy's chest, knocking the wind out of him when it connected. There was a bruise on his ribcage for days after and all the satisfaction he could possibly imagine at knowing it was from you.

But then he nearly killed you so, things turned sour rather quickly.

Which led to a rather impromptu welcome into the group of misfits, the lot of them. Unannounced and unexpected, you marched into the party after your small break down. Ready to be let in and accepted.

Finding out about the Upside Down was a mere accident.

You hadn't gone out of your way to befriend a group of children. Hadn't expected much in regards to friendship period even after getting your ass kicked by Billy Hargrove. Let alone a lifetime, one built from the shared experience of the horrors that lurk just underneath town, attached to one particular boy of the group.

But here you were. Standing in the backyard of Max's home like an idiot with the sun bearing down at your back. The late summer day nearly reached over 100 degrees as the clock neared the noon hour. Something you might have missed otherwise if it wasn't for the black analog watching you closely every time you renetered the house for a drink.

The main gaggle of kids swam and screamed every few seconds, trying to drag you into a half-baked game of Marco Polo that had the older Hawkins teens eyeing each other with concern.

You tapped the top of your can to ease the anxiety, looking around the edge of the yard again, past Max's mother, who waved awkwardly and would come around every so often, offering drinks or food to you, Nancy, and Jonathan.

"Nervous?" Jonathan prodded in his way, looking up from the half eaten sandwhich Will had taken two large bites from, making sure he had gotten his fill and packing it away when he received two big thumbs up from his little brother before he rentered the pool.

"Ah. " You leaned against the lawn chair, rolling your neck before looking over. "Expecting Billy to jump out from one of these corners, " you gesture towards the many hiding places you have spotted in the yard. "cause a scene. "

Nancy shifted uncomfortably, twisting her skirt slightly. "Not yet, at least. " She added while fidgeting with the button over the waist. "I thought he'd show up at least half-way through this thing. "

"Yeah, " you agreed, "thats why I'm–"

"On edge?" Jonathan filled in for you, a soft smile gracing his lips as Will looked over.

"Ready, he means. " Mike piped up, his hand was fully plunged into the cooler chest, blindly shifting around the ice as he looked over at the three.

Something in the tension held firm in the pit of your stomach, because the only times that this happened was whenever a confrontation was supposed to take place.

And judging from all the past events that had occurred, however mundane or fantastical they may be, this was probably going to end badly in more than just a couple of ways.

You'd managed to keep pretty calm in the past concerning Billy. Kept a level head about whatever shit he'd decided to cause that week. But something felt wrong today. That air in your gut had been hard to shake.

And the fact he had yet to make an appearance so far, did very little in easing you. And apparently everyone else involved.

"Don't know what his fucking problem is. " You curse, sitting up in the chair, "Never waits long to start shit."

In fact, you can almost pinpoint the time he entered the premises, an excuse to blame him for the sudden tightening in your gut and the goosebumps on your skin. Yet, he hadn't entered the backyard once since he got home. He stayed holed up in his room the entire day and that much was evident every time you, or Nancy, or Jonathan or one of the kids entered the house and heard the rock music blasting from his bedroom.

He hadn't even made a shadow to have showed his face.

For hours you waited.

Hours of worry and unease ate away at your gut while the rest of the party commenced unhindered.

And yet, it seemed all but for nothing in the grand scheme of things. Because as the sun started to lower from its zenith, you and the rest grew more tired and eventually, the temperature started to cool to a point where splashing around in the pool was no longer appropriate.

The kids came clamoring out, dripping in more chemicals than water, screaming and laughing in the process. It was getting near the five hour mark by then.

Your mind was heavy when you stood up to go inside, nearly tripping when your eyes clashed with the eldest person in the home, the both of you freezing awkwardly in the middle of the walk.

Both you and Max's mother were silent in each others presence. Stoic if there was ever a word for it.

Neil always seemed to be staring off into nothing, zoned out to some far away place only those who drowned themselves in alcohol and other momentary pleasures existed. They didn't interact, besides maybe the occasional conversation starter, or nod in passing whenever a person came too close for an inch of comfort. Not unusual in your opinion of strained marriages.

You began to speak, went to get yourself out of this weird positioning you've seemed to found yourself in. But Susan beat you to it.

"Can you do me a favor?" She beckoned before turning around and trotting off into the kitchen. Already assuming you would listen. You usually did. There weren't any hidden agendas for her actions and nothing against you personally.

She held some power that you wished wasn't. You would take just about any job that required you to be away from the current obstacles of your personal life. But as she turned back to look at you with that indescribable air and knowing nod, she had beaten you.

"Whats up?" You replied, voice more gravely then you meant it to be as you walked up behind her. She was sticking something into the microwave.

"Bye, Y/N/N. " Nancy had emerged from the Hargrove bathroom when she stood on her toes to place a friendly kiss on your cheek before joining Jonathan.

"See ya, Nance. " You say as the dark haired girl glided away, passing a wave to Jonathan and then they were out the front door.

The house was mostly empty now with nearly all the kids back home, and Dustin and Max tucked away in her room, waiting for Dustin's mother. There was enough silence now that you were itching to leave. The house had settled quiet, but you couldn't describe it as comfortable. There was a ribbed blanket across the couch that had obviously been sat on by its dishelved look.

The TV was on but the volume had been lowered so much that you were better off listening to Billy's faint music from down the hall for entertainment.

Water rushed from somewhere on the other side of the house and the distinct slam of a door being pulled shut gave you the visual to what you were hearing. Your little brother, most likely. You'd seen him dip down the hallway like he was about to shit himself the moment Nancy exited the bathroom.

You shifted around, placing your backside agaisnt the counter as you found new things to look at. Languidly, you watched, senses picking out different things around the house to latch on to. The light green walls, the ugly brown patterns on the carpet, the hum of the refrigerator that, strangely enough, harbored no family photos, just magnets with various corny sayings.

Your eyes lingered on the fridge.

Everything here was simple. Blank like a fresh canvas of dry paint. Apart from the dishes left in the sink and the few items of clothing to be picked up off the ground, it felt oddly wrong for an occupied residence.

"Y/N?"

A shift in the environment rippled over your skin and something felt charged but not in a fearful sort of way. You're pulled from your small internal worry by the same woman from before.

"Billy hasn't come from his room all day, mind taking this to him?"

Susan's got a glass plate in her hand, slightly extended our towards you. It's filled at every turn with food she'd transfered from the tupperware after the ding of the microwave you hadn't quite heard.

That same gut feeling crawled up your insides again, but you blamed the way your throat tightened on the anxiety. Why it was something now and not earlier, you can't be sure.

But, if there's one thing you learned from movies and popular tv shows, it's never to interrupt the motherfucker when he's listening to rock. But, here's your excuse. So, with a small nod and the plate in your hand, you try to shake it all away.

Because the worst that could happen is you get your ass beat again.

Stepping up to the wood slated door gave your lungs a run for their money. It was as if all the air had been sucked from the atmosphere and the pressure collapsed the walls around you. Only breathing through your nose you shook the fear away with a raised fist to the door, clenched the plate in your opposite hand.

Bass rattled through the floor and past the wooden door, you're graced with the faint sounds of the guitar on the stereo. There were bits of vocals in the background, a baritone voice that spoke. And perhaps that was part of the appeal. Your fingers danced on the metal that resided at the entrance. It felt cool on your skin.

You knocked again after a few seconds. Nothing sounded on the other side of the door but you were still unsure if Billy could hear you above the music. Maybe he'd turn it down once his father returned from whatever place he'd ventured off to in the night. But you didn't exactly have that time to be waiting around, despite your own fathers late tendencies.

You took a moment to think if you should just leave the plate on the floor, let him pick it up, and try to call a ride. You exhaled quickly, shifting your balance onto your other hip.

Before you even touched the doorknob with a single digit, the music turned down significantly and suddenly the atmosphere was more intense than you'd anticipated.

Which, was the new normal.

But, still.

Things felt off. The pressure in your bones caused your limbs to rise upward, to defend yourself, to at least put yourself in some position that wouldn't leave you open to attack.

For what?

You didn't know.

Because all Billy did was peer up at you from the crack in his door. Nothing significant yet his stare was nothing less than striking. Those blue things could put the oceans to shame, rivaling even the sky in its vivid colors. They were a mirror.

They shifted to the food, briefly. Then immediately returned back to you as the speaker could barely emit its sound.

You watched as the boy straightened, sighed and then opened the door wider, leaving the frame unguarded as he trailed off into his room.

The door held open but his gaze disappeared into the space on his mattress, and the music lowered a touch, no longer loud enough to break the door from its hinges but loud enough that Billy had to raise his voice over it to be properly heard.

You took a cautious step forward after staring at the boys backside, his attire didn't leave much to imagination but his half nude state was the least of your discernment seeing as one, you were fashioned the same way and two, Billy Hargrove was wordlessly inviting you into his room.

You thought maybe this was some kind of trick, a ploy to get you cornered, so your eyes danced over him in brief, consistent glances as you proceeded forward.

He was sitting by his window, a cigarette stuck between his two fingers as he silently stared off into the the darkness the world outside offered.

It was strange. Seemingly off guard as he propped the knee of one leg against the window, giving a free range to his left to lean. Hair swept over the shoulder to show part of his sharp jawline, which dimmed only with each intake of the deadly nicotine.

The room was bland save for a few posters, white walls, brown dresser pressed against a corner and a night stand tucked at the opposite. Clothes were tossed about, either on the floor or hung up half assed on something that you could only guess as a proper hanger.

His nightstand was covered in trash and empty beer cans and you thought of shoving them away before deciding to place the plate on his bed instead.

You spared him a last glance after the action, perplexed by the fact he was just so— quiet. Which, was certainly odd to everyone at least within half a mile from here. Usually the moment you entered his space, his bubble, he erupted like an animal defending its territory.

You decided not to push your luck. Because right now, it felt like the deadly cat across the African plains simply hadn't noticed you. And so your steps were as carefully placed as they had been when you entered. It was almost relaxing despite the looming feeling from the boys demeanor.

Billy felt a wave, a sort of ripple through the air as the presence of another remained in the room. He didn't bother to speak, only raised the unlit cigarette to his lips in a curious manner and took an unsteady puff, letting the wind carry the smoke out the screen. There was a storm, one he had sensed earlier but was hard to make out amongst the many things that had clouded his mind with anger.

Luckily, the only thing he could blame his outburst on earlier this morning was exhaustion, a clear sign of his lack of sleep from the night before which would easily explain his half dead posture and irritability that had pissed off nearly everyone around him.

Another explanation for his hideout in his room but one you couldn't quite understand.

You neared the exit when the floorboards creaked just as they had before and you almost wanted to freeze in your place. Like the cat would come pouncing now, mauling you to death.

"Not gonna make a show of it?" Came Billy's voice, it was low and calm but you caught the slight strain of it. As if he needed a clear of his throat to even be fully heard.

"A show of what?" You cast a glance over your shoulder, brows knit.

The blonde gestured with his lips, the subtle shift in his elbow drawing attention to the stick of tobacco. "I was waiting for some goddamn spectacle, L/N. "

"I don't know what you're talking about, Billy. " You sounded exasperated already and you stepped over a black shirt with a design you couldn't quite decipher from its crumpled up state. You made sure not to add anymore scratches to the ground and turned around, placing your back firmly against the door frame.

Billy's muscles became tense with the new body turned on him and he felt the wave again, the stirring of new energy entering the atmosphere.

But you had simply done so so that your back wasn't uncomfortably to him when you left.

"Whatever. " Was all Billy seemed to say before shutting you out, shoving that fucking piece of shit plate away from him. And in the split second your brain focused on how fast food was supposed to get cooled and not nearly three seconds after swallowing his cancer stick Billy must've caught the attention of the devil himself.

There was no denying the jagged yell, the shuffling in his voice like someone was gripping his head and holding it under water. You jumped away, eyes as wide as saucers as Billy's bedroom door flung open, smacking the adjacent wall with a loud slam that nearly cracked the plaster from the force.

And yet, his voice was a lot less louder than his grand entrance. "Hey, shit face. Why don't you make yourself useful instead of sitting around all day, having our guests, " he gestured to you, "bring you your own fucking food. "

You moved a step back, almost tripping on your own footing from your struggle to balance yourself without the solid sense of feeling. Your eyes darted frantically between the two people within your viewing distance, and you could barely make out Susan a few feet away who had her hand clasped on Max's shoulder.

She was ushering her daughter to their bedroom but Max refused, and the red head stood beside the door with a wary look.

"Get up. And give him a ride home. " Another gesture to you and when you looked towards the entrance of Billy's room again Neil was taking up the entire frame.

"That's really not–" You began but stopped as both of the parents turned to look at you with an appalled look. It was nothing personal but you doubted Billy even knew where you lived and the only time you ever rode with him was pervious to when he'd beat your ass.

"My dad–" You tried again.

"He won't answer the phone, much less pick you up. " Susan jumped in, though the hesitation on her voice made you doubt if that was her plan all along. "Your brother got a ride with the Henderson's. "

"Put on a shirt, stop acting like a balless queer, and go. " Again Neil thrust a drawn out, mocking tone, like his son couldn't comprehend basic sentences and he stepped out of the way to make room for your departure.

Billy's got a storm brewing in his expression and there was one moment where his eyes met yours and you were sure you'd drown in all the hate there was.

You didn't get a chance to argue about the amount of time it would take to get there and about how you would manage on your own. In fact, something in Max's eyes told you it'd be better not to. So you pressed your lips against each other as Billy grabbed his keys and pushed past you.

You watched Billy stalk past everyone, a gruff 'Yes, Sir' leaving his lips that you almost hadn't heard as he passed his father.

You exited the room shortly after, not sparing Susan or Neil a goodbye as you gingerly took your shirt from Max's hands.

She made a comment, something quietly spoken that not even your heightened hearing could make out over Billy's obnoxious slamming of the front door that he knew he would pay for later. You watched the young girl as she returned to her room.

Silence welcomed you when you first stepped into the driveway, stretching across the cement with a sense of uncomfortablity that didn't seem to fade as you entered the car and were met with a chilling quiet.

Billy didnt look at you as his ignition roared to life, nor did he speak to you as he pulled out the drive way. He stared ahead, chin down as he leaned just slightly forward, supporting an arm on the side door, palm rubbing soothing circles into his temple.

He was going 20 above the speed limit. You assumed you two were trying to get as far away from the house as you could. But, the further into the neighborhood you went, the lower the numbers on the radio dropped and the more the car filled with quiet music.

Hargrove was completely out of it, lost in some other space where you weren't welcome. And the car had filled with a tension you doubted he'd meant to cause, but given his current mood, you didn't think he could avoid it either.

Despite this, you chose to press yourself against the door with a turned head, the muscles in your body growing taut with discomfort the more you tried to make it seem as if you weren't even of existence in the passenger seat.

You wanted out of the car.

That much you could draw from your mind when you found that the speedometer was at 55 and increasing.

"Billy. " You tore your gaze from the meter, flickering over the silent boy who was intent on looking only at the road ahead.

No answer. His jaw was tightened and set. There were lines buried in the skin.

"Billy. " Your voice held a certain firmness that he didn't quite like.

Silence still and he tightened his grip on the leather, knuckles turning white. The streetlights were getting ready to cast those obnoxious eyes and like a perfect chain of events the little hairs of a certain song burst from the speakers.

His hand, fast with anger, whipped across the volume dial, ceasing the tune and replacing it with the rumble of the engine.

An inhale, then a single word. "What. "

Somehow you think that's the opposite of an answer. It's barely a question. With the tone of voice he held he shouldn't have phrased it that way because he clearly didn't want to know what you had to say, what you thought.

"Stop the car. I'll walk. " It was simple enough and on any normal occasion Billy might've done just that rather than wasting his gas on you. But tonight was different, and Billy, seemingly fueled by his own agitation, just blew past the stop sign and sent the speed at which the Camaro rolled up with you at dangerous levels.

The car vibrated lightly beneath you, air whistling as you tore through the neighborhood at an alarming rate.

"Oh for fucks sake. " It was a mutter to yourself because you hadn't exactly expected the boy to be cooperative but you didn't think you'd be forced to jump out of a moving car again. Yet, here you were; gripping the handle, poised like a god damn animal, eyeing the road as you built up your goddamned gallantry.

You didn't catch the surprise on Billy's face when he noticed you push the door open against the harsh winds.

Fuck it.

You fell with ease and with a soft oof! your limbs were somehow able to stand the blow rather than becoming mangled chunks of meat against the pavement. You could hear the car skidding to a stop five houses down as you took a moment to roll around in your own pain.

Your shirt had rode up on your torso, back pressed against the heated road as your skin made contact with the tar. You had a few scrapes along your spine, one over the delicate hip bone. And you were pretty sure the road had peeled the skin on your forearm all the way down to the elbow but hey, at least it wasn't your fucking face.

A few drops of blood gathered on a pebble directly to your right. Your nose gave a sharp twinge of pain.

"Dick. " You said that in regards to him, for every aspect of his personality. Because Billy Hargrove was what others considered a giant dick.

If you hadn't suspected it before you were sure when you heard the wheels start to turn again, the shift of a gear springing the Camaro back to life. And then footsteps, louder than the car itself, were slapping against the asphalt.

"Are you out of your fucking mind!?" You raised your head, eyes coming to focus on Billy's very fucking pissed form towering above you. Arms crossed defensively, face twisted with irritation as he glared down at you with something close to— well it looked a lot like anger but Billy only knew one of three emotions and that was definitely not concern.

"Fuck you. " You managed through a puddle of blood in your mouth that you promptly spit out, only having realized it was there the moment it began forming bubbles when you tried to speak.

Billy's voice stuttered in reply. "What the fuck is your problem? Do you want to fucking kill yourself or something?! "

"Better than death by fucking vehicular manslaughter on the account of Billy fucking Hargrove. " You muttered, hands pressing into the road to give you leverage when you attempt to stand up. Your body immediately yells a no to this action and you lay right back down on the road.

"What?" Billy is completely distraught in the sense that his brain has seemed to burst due the sheer incomprability of your actions.

"Oh I don't know, Billy, maybe the next time I feel like killing myself I'll call you and we'll go a hundred miles an hour off the fucking side of a cliff. "

The boys eyebrows were nearly touching his hairline as he stared at you.

"Watch me die like an old school movie where they're surrounded by bubbles and colors and shit. "

You spit the last remnants of blood from your mouth and Hargroves face ran red and blue. "Can you fucking shut the fuck up and get up already before anyone sees you. " He demanded, practically dancing around your form. Arms stretched out with a stance that reminded you very much of a gymnast.

"No. No. I think I'll lay here for a sec. " You roll onto your backside, a groan in your voice, arms folding over your body, posed like a corpse.

Billy stops in his antics and stares at you incredulously. "Are you serious?"

"Very serious, yes. " Your voice almost comes out like a sigh.

Billy reels, and if it wasn't for the fact your eyes were sealed shut now, you'd be able to see the absolute bewilderment of the teen as he stood there in the middle of the empty street. Arms half poised over you but not touching your form. As if he didn't know what do with you.

"...Get up. " He demands, standing straight again, his hands on his waist. This time he's not commanding you in that cold manner. There's a little rise to his voice like he's beginning to lose his patience, his forehead furrowing with anger.

You take another few moments to enjoy the silence. You swear you hear a cicada or something squeak from a window sill nearby and the air felt cooler than it has in weeks. Until it all becomes overbearing and your chest burns from a lack of oxygen. You didn't even realize you were holding your breath.

You open an eye to test the waters.

Billy's scowling now, a hand on his hip and the other resting across his forehead in disbelief. At you or the situation, you weren't entirely sure. Both you imagined. But there was a certain look on his face like he was ready to pull some kind of theatric, a reaction, throw a punch to knock some sense into you but ultimately decided against it.

"Where do you live?" He asked the question in such a manner that you couldn't help but be wary of his intentions.

"...Why?" You asked, the caution obvious in your voice. As he loomed over you like that... it wasn't doing a whole lot of trust building.

You almost hear the growl of frustration from his throat as he began rocking on the balls of his feet, hands swinging like he wasn't able to grab hold of something. "So we can fucking go. Before someone calls the fucking cops. "

You still hesitated.

"Before I fuck you up so hard they'll have to identify you by your fucking sperm. " Okay there were his threats. But they lacked the substance of his normal demeanor. He didn't seem overly angry like he typically did but still, his body gave some kind of look as though he couldn't quite will himself to control the way it trembled with adrenaline.

"Nice one, but you're not my type. " Another bite and a second of Billy looking absolutely befuddled as he tried to keep his voice down. His glare had weakened but only because he was taken off guard, and his cocky expression fell to a tight line.

You watched as he took a moment to look around the empty street. The lights weren't too bright so you couldn't make out that typical, telltale flush of his skin that you've grown accustomed to in his anger.

Your eyes flickered across his face, scanning every inch like a beacon. Curiously, you looked at him the same way he always did. Maybe you'd find some sort of answer hidden somewhere behind his icy blues.

The look on his face was strange. Pensive.

"Get up, Y/N. " An even voice this time. Calming maybe. And to think, all it took was a slightly gay comment in order to simmer the violent bastard.

You half wondered where the fag-bashing erratic moron went. Maybe he'd packed his bags and runaway. You could hope.

You did more than that infact, you put that right there on your bucket list, and with a frown, more for yourself than anything else, you looked away from the boy above you.

"Fine. Alright. " Your movements were stiff with pain as you moved to push yourself up by the palms of your hand, your arms trembling beneath the weight. The skin on your hand and forearm burned with a stinging sensation.

Billy watched at your pathetic attempts, a sneer or two on his face but he didn't seem to offer much help until it'd all get too pathetic and he had to reach out and aid you.

"Idiot. " His lip curled as his palm met yours, his fingers holding onto the back of your hand tight as possible.

You stumbled slightly upon becoming fully upright, teetering against Billy for a moment as you took a minute to regain your ground.

"Yeah, well whose fucking fault is that. " You've developed a lovely habit of hissing through your teeth with an unnecessary amount of spite. You're surprised Billy hasn't knocked you on your ass and left you for dead by now.

He scoffs, trying to put as much distance between the two of you while still having your arm linked through his, helping you along. To the ignorant eye, you suppose this would look platonic enough but anyone that knew the two of you well would certainly think otherwise.

Billy's all rigid limbs and stunted movements. Even when you'd finally started to walk on your own and your grip on his arm began to slack, he held firm with a grip like a vise.

And by the time you're at the passenger's side, he's shoving you into the seat and you nearly knock your head on the top of car.

You didn't bother giving a remark when he practically seethed through his teeth, slamming the door in your face. He strode around the car like a man on a mission.

"If you go more than 5 over the speed limit—" You felt the warning die on your tongue when you saw the look of pure anger etched onto Billy's face.

"You'll jump out. Yeah. " His hand came down on the shifter. "Got it. "

There was a part of your brain that you didn't recognize that was screaming in terror, completely and totally convinced you were going to die tonight at the hands of the ever brooding Billy Hargrove.

But much to your surprise, Billy maintains that 5 mile leway the entire drive home even when there's barely a car in the streets. He hadn't muttered a single word since throwing his angry body in the driver's seat.

Instead, he'd cranked up the music all the way as if it'd some how compensate for the lack of speed and conversation, not that there would be much to say anyway.

You hadn't bothered looking at him. He hadn't bothered looking at you. But somehow, in one way or another, the feeling as if you were watching each other was even more abundant in the silence.

Whatever hostility had remained from Billy's mood in the first half of the night had receded back into his depths for later. Though the occasional frown on his face never quite leaves no matter what, his eyes are softer now.

And by the time he's pulling into the dirt driveway of your home, the soft beams of amber and yellow from the streetlights dimly hitting half his face, there's no sign of anger or any real semblance of emotion. It's oddly quiet, and the only thing to really speak up was the steady rumble of the engine.

"Thanks. " You beckon quickly and with reluctantance as you awkwardly grabbed at the door handle, trying to turn as quickly as you could while still maintaining balance. Anything just to get out of his car and away from the guy.

"Y/N. " He voices and the moment you pull at the handle you come to find it's resistance. A dull tingle shoots up your spine and the hair on the back of your neck raises with tension.

You turn, facing the teen who kept an unconcerned façade. He was a calm still pond with blue eyes flickering like small waves in the face of a strong wind, and although most times they were ice and snow that held such a cold, unforgiving passion of arrogance, there were times they were the ripples of a breeze.

Now was one of those times.

"Don't go around pulling fucking stunts like that. "

That was definitely closer to a warning than anything else that had come from his lips the entirety of the night.

"This is coming from the guy who beat my ass into the concrete two months ago. " And at this point, you were too exhausted to be filled with spite for the boy.

His posture falters and not just figuratively. There's a shift to the way he's sitting but the flicker of his eyes remains. Even with you half turned, his stare remained. In fact, it seems to have gotten all the more intense.

"What's it to you anyway? " The way he tilted his head might have been endearing in another life. Now, it seemed to hold meaning, the way a predator stalks its prey with such observant behavior before sinking its teeth into its jugular.

His gaze on you could have bored into your brain, much like a drill for how quick your defenses seemed to start dissolving.

He'd always looked at you like this. Whether or not you caught his eyes on you was by chance.

In class, in the halls, it was all the same to him. He'd get one look and that was about all it took. He'd stare with the attention like an interrogation, as if trying to decode some secret behind your stature, trying to pick you apart bit by bit with those watchful baby blue's of his. And if there was no easy route to doing that he'd dig his little meat hooks into you until there was.

You were all he'd focus on. Not you in particular. More so the idea of you.

Whatever that meant.

Of course the only instance Billy looked at you without fail, hard looked at you like the blue was about to spill out of his eyes and swallow you up like a tsunami, was when he was a little tipsy or riled up with heat and fury. But like most of Billy's emotions, they were very intense. Too intense for something as simple as just a fucking stare. It almost gave you the illusion of a dangerous threat that made your skin buzz with goosebumps, your nerves rattling in their sockets.

He was doing the same now, except, the only difference was that he wasn't pissed faced or smoldering with alcohol this time. In the confines of his car, beneath the yellow white shine of the nearby street lights, he couldn't tear his gaze away even if you begged.

Billy was the sort of thing to stop you mid thought when you glance and feel your limbs freeze, suddenly petrified with all this uneasiness and sudden confusion as to why there was only one sort of definition to put on why you felt such things whenever his presence was met with a hundred paces of distance.

"I..." He starts but his voice falls flat. Something beyond frustration, something between anger and concern. The sort of look that told you he was working something out in his mind. Or he just couldn't find the proper word choice that didn't end in an f-bomb at the end of his sentence.

He's still staring, his eyes flickering back and forth between yours, like a candle wick in the night. Wavering. Stuttering. Inconsistent uncertainty.

Like he's just asking for guidance to fill his barren vocabulary, the words never existing like an undiscovered civilization in his brain, unable to conjure up the sort of speech that would get him what he wanted.

An abrupt sense of panic washed over you. You inhaled sharply and you didn't let the breath go until your next move was placed in front of you like a chess piece on the board and you couldn't take the time to think out any future moves on your part.

All of your attention was pulled to him, focused entirely. The way he moved, the way he breathed, it left a tingling feeling trailing behind him like some faint breeze of emotion.

Everything stilled, it was him and you. Him. And you.

And he's just looking at you like that. Mouth halfway opened and the noise of shallow heavy breaths were the only sounds falling from his lips while he's looking at you all wide-eyed, like some fresh-faced virgin whose never seen one in person before.

You cursed yourself. Cursed the wind. Cursed the ground. Cursed Billy and his stupid face. And every corner of his stupid car and everything else about him. You can curse the sun but that'd probably be a step too far. Especially the moment you met those watchful pools of sea foam.

Fucking Billy Hargrove and his stupid, fucking car and his even more stupid...

Lips.

Lips and teeth.

Teeth, pale pink lips.

Blue eyes, long lashes.

Stupid fucking curly hair.

The sort of curly where it always managed to get you by the tips, tangling its brambles in your fingers and refusing to let go.

Which is why the second Billy made a small noise– not even really a noise, it's a breath. A single exhale that hits your nose, hits you the way nothing has before, and it causes a wave of heat to wash over you, overtaking your senses.

You grab those curls, your fingers entwine them and his breath is alot heavier, alot hotter as his hands grip tightly onto your shirt, like he's a frightened child.

His lips are wet.

He's messy.

Sloppy.

Like he's never kissed before in his life. Lips that keep moving, and his tongue is too sensitive, too eager.

Every sharp inhale of breath reeks of sweat and chlorine.

There's no time to stop and make sense of the situation.

He's scrambling over the middle console, desperate hands gripping on your collar and in any other scenario, this would've been the step before he plummeted his fist into your face. But there's hardly anything suggesting that. At least not without the time to see the tiny trail of tears lining Billy's eyes, glossing his cheeks.

He tastes as he looks. Like liquid gold with his tongue rubbing against yours in a hot mass of burning motion. And any semblance of a rational train of thought was chucked out the window.

There was enough room in the front seat for a teenage boy and then some. Billy Hargrove was not such a teenage boy. There was barely enough room to shift and breathe and wriggle around in this half straddle.

You can faintly hear a heavy car pass over a mound in the road, an off balance tire or perhaps someone forgot to inflate it and the uneven troll on the road, not entirely deafening, but it's there. And Billy hears it and he jumps from you, leg grazing the shifter, head knocking into the top of the roof.

His ears are steaming red as he all but falls into the driver's seat, face flustered and hair slightly disheveled.

He's looking around like a wild animal caught in a trap and he can't escape, eyes flickering back and forth; from the gearshift all the way to the rear view mirror and then to your face.

Pupils shot open, dark and wide, and a hand coming up to press on his forehead, eyes squinting.

"Billy‐ " It's a start, but it doesn't stay long enough to be deemed a full sentence, not with his name lingering on your lips while you try to swallow down the heat in the pit of your stomach. Billy's looking at you, breathing heavy.

"Get out. " He mutters forcefully, the lock clicks open and when his hand comes up to rub across his face, it's shaking.

"Billy. " More insistent this time.

He looks a few shades redder than when he was before, his head snaps back to meet your stare, hair curling beneath his ears in a gentle mess, curls threatening to fall into his face.

"Get out!" His voice pitches, breaks into something close to a sob and Billy swings his arm wildly, fist connecting with the steering wheel and there's a loud honk as a warning before he shouts again. "Get the fuck out, you fucking faggot!" His voice reverberates across the entire neighborhood, shattering your ear drums in the process.

There's dogs barking from far away, probably due to the horn.

You hesitated but only for a moment before swinging the door open, just barely missing the opportunity to knock the shit out of your leg by the time Billy decided to slam down his foot on the pedal. The door shuts fast. The car speeds off before it has the chance.

You watched him drive away, with just as much intensity as the boy inside the car watched you in the rearview.

As your house began to shrink away into the distance, and the glare of the car grew smaller and smaller. You could hardly see those searing blue eyes the way you did in class. Though this time, instead of a look of hatred or scorn, it was one of fear and dread.

And maybe, just maybe, if there were more light shining on his face, it would reflect a thousand scenarios playing on his cheeks. Not that you would've been able to tell from all the way out here.

"Fuck. "

[percybeloved]

yo im hella desperate for some cash so commission mee please!!! ill write a short imagine for $5 and a full length fanfic w any (LEGAL, meaning no pedophilia, incest or beastality) for $15. im really tight for money and need to save up to get my laptop fixed for school (its looking like $200 to repair) i take paypal and cashapp!!! dm me on here or discord at percybeloved#8670

[decadentworld]

Subspace headcanons.

What sends the boys (Eddie, Jonathan, Billy, Steve, Argyle) + Nancy into subspace and what they’re like while in it.

※ Headcanons for each of the participants.

※ Sub Bottom Billy Hargrove/Dom Top Male Reader, Sub Bottom Argyle/Dom Top Male Reader, Sub Bottom Jonathan Byers/Dom Top Male Reader, Sub Bottom Steve Harrington/Dom Top Male Reader, Sub Bottom Eddie Munson/Dom Top Male Reader, Sub Bottom Nancy Wheeler/Dom Top Male Reader.

※ 3,907 words (total).

※ Personal work (not request).

※ Content & warnings: Subspace. Mentions of subdrops. Daddy kink. Choking. Praise kink. Light and hardcore masochism. Humiliation. Face-slapping. Oral sex. Anal sex. Vaginal sex. BDSM lifestyles. Dirty talk. Mentions of public sex. Belting. Overstimulation.

※ All characters are canonically 18 or older.

※ Work available only on Tumblr and under ArchiveOfOurOwn pseud of the same name (DecadentWorld). Do not repost, edit, or redistribute. Do not use for TikTok or YouTube videos. DO NOT FEED TO AI

Available only to registered users of AO3.

Taglist: @anglhrts

[thewritersaddictions]

Drabble: The Adults- New Years Kiss

Eddie Munson

The music filters through the speakers at the Hideout. Eddie promised to be with you for the New Year celebration, but then he got a call from the hideout manager. "Come with me to the hideout, and I'll be off the stage before they drop the ball in New York." Eddie had asked you. You mumbled it over in his arms. "Fine, Eds, but you better be right here when you're done." You told him. It's not til later when you crammed into his van with the others and all their musical instruments.

Their set goes perfectly with a large crowd surrounding the front of the stage. You sit at the bar drinking the horrible Christmas drink Hideout had added to their holiday menu. The speakers around the bar bring life to Eddie and his guitar. You watch him proudly as you keep your eye on your watch. The closer it gets to 12am, the antsy you get. Wanting him back in your arms, wanting that cigarette and pine smell back in your senses.

You're scared out of your wits when two large, sweaty hands come to grab at your waist. "See, I promised I'd be back with you before the end of the year." He says with a huff of his chest. He's surrounding you in the best way. His hair sticks up in odd places from the sweat on his forehead, and his hand is gripping your hip hard, but you don't care about the bruises. It will be left behind. "You did good." You tell him, and he bows, thanking you. "Come here, baby." He turns you in a flash, gently cups your cheek, and his thumb rubs over your bottom lip. "I never got my kiss for good luck." He says quietly. "You don't need it anymore." You tell him, Eddie shakes his head. "I still want it, baby." He tells you softly and pulls you to meet his warm and chapped lips. The kiss is a short one, one of the other bandmates coming over, pulling you both out of the wonderful little world you've both created.

Nancy Wheeler

You're climbing in through her window. Trying to get a private minute with Nancy with her parents and brother is hard sometimes, so Nancy almost always leaves her window unlocked for you to come in. She gasps and puts a hand over her heart. "Shit, Y/n, you scared me!" Nancy tells you, you wink at her. "I'm sorry, baby." You tease as you shut the window to keep the cold wind from getting in. "You could have called, you know," Nancy tells you, trying her best to keep a serious face.

"I could have, but what would have happened if your mother answered the phone?" You ask her; she rolls her eyes and pats the spot next to her on her bed. "So, are you here to give me a New Year kiss?" "Don't spoil it, baby." You answer her? The loud footsteps of Nancy's father echo through the house, and then a knock on her door. "Honey, we're doing fireworks if you wanna come down?" Her father says, "I'm okay, Dad. I'm tired anyway." There's a hum on the other side of the door. "Tired huh?" You say, smirking over at her.

With that, you grab at her hips and pull her into your lap. "Come here, baby." Nancy wraps her arms around your neck, and your hands land on her hips to keep her close. "You smell so good." You wiggle your brows at her. "Well, thank you. I always wanna smell good for my girl." You whisper to Nancy as you lean up to catch her lips. The kiss is long and sweet. No gnashing of teeth; instead, the taste of strawberry invades your senses.

Argyle

The van is filled with smoke from the weed you've both been smokin'. Neither of you are concerned with what's happening outside the small van. It had yet to start off like this. Argyle wanted to take you out to dinner, but everything was either packed or closed, so you both settled on gas station food and a good blunt or two.

Lovers Lake isn't crowded by any means. Most people are with their families or friends celebrating the end of the year and the start of the new one. You'd rather be here, though, with Argyle. Rather be in his lap, sharing a blunt between you. Instead, You'd feel his hand on your hip as he takes a long drag from the blunt and pulls you close to shotgun with him. How close his lips would be to yours, how all of his fills your senses. You let your breath go as you take the blunt from his nimble but long fingers. His eyes never stray from your frame. He watches you like a hawk, waiting for his prey to escape its underground hole.

The blunt wet from Argyle's lips wrapping around it, you take a drag and then hold it. Wanting to feel the full effect. "Come here, honey." Your voice echoes through the van. You lean forward, resting your hand on the van's inner shell. "Come here and give me a kiss." Argyle's voice is wrapped in a thickness you swear you've never heard before. You do as he asks, leaning forward, lips pressing together as smoke fills the space. "So pretty, baby." He says, and you can hear your heartbeat pulse a little faster as you kiss. "Happy New Year, baby," Argyle says to you. "That was three days ago, baby." he shrugs his shoulder and presses his lips back into yours, cutting off your giggle.

Billy Hargrove

During the Christmas holiday, you have received just a few gifts from your boyfriend. The best out of the batch was the tickets to a New Year's Eve concert. You had nearly jumped into his arms when you saw the tickets in the box. "Holy shit!" You shouted as you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed his chapped lips. The ride in Billy's Camaro is a long one to the big city of Indianapolis.

You brought a suitcase full of clothes, not knowing what to wear to this concert. You had an idea of who was there, but Billy wasn't forthcoming with that information. The two of you got a motel not far from the arena. Billy even said he had given the both of you an extra day. "I just wanna treat you good, is all," Billy muttered as he pulled you into the motel bed.

The next day goes by in a blur. It isn't until the following day that you know that you've gotta make the best of the clothes you packed and get ready for the concert. "Come on, Y/n, we've gotta go before we are late for parking." Billy's voice echoes through the motel walls. When the car is parked, and the two of you walk hand in hand toward the entrance, you catch glimpses of what you are walking into. "Billy?" Your voice is small in the vast area. He hums, "You're the absolute best." You say truthfully as you pull him into your side and kiss his cheek. "Keep tellin' me that, baby, because this is your New Year gift." You get into your seats. "Well?" Billy looks over at you, "What?" "Don't I get a kiss on New Year's Eve?" He rolls his eyes but grabs you softly by your throat and pulls you in for a sloppy kiss.

Jonathan Byers

"Really?" He questions you as he continues to unwrap the Christmas present. You were supposed to do Christmas six days ago, but you're now at the Byers house, the day before the new year starts. "But they cost so much," Jonathan says matter-of-factly; you just shrug your shoulders. "Maybe, but you like takin' pictures, so I thought, why not. Do you not like it?" Concerned you got the wrong gift. Jonathan starts to shake his head, telling you your gift idea was good. "No, I love it, sweetheart." He tells you to put the box on the coffee table and reach over to give you a kiss on your cheek.

You exchange more presents. Having gotten some for everyone. Including Will, Mrs.Byers, and Hopper because he is also there more often nowadays. Mrs.Byers can't help but give you multiplied hugs during the night as a thanks for for coming over because, in her words, the gifts, but Jonathan seems better off now that you guys are together. The countdown starts, and before you know it the lot of you are counting down from five.

You don't catch Mrs.Byers grabbing the camera as Jonathan leans in, grabbing at your sides gently before whispering against your lips, "Three," "Two," and then "One." At one, his lips are on yours. Tasting of dinner and drink you had before you all sat down for the countdown to the new year. You don't catch the blinding light of the camera as Mrs.Byers snaps a shot of the both of you. Kissing, falling in love in one picture. She hands the film to you when you both release each other's hold. "Here you go." Mrs.Byers says warmly before setting the camera back on the coffee table.

Robin Buckley

The party is small, but it's got just enough people to make the event a little too hectic for Robin. The only reason she's there is because of Y/n. She brings such beauty that Robin can't help but follow her into the party. Only a few girls are sitting there painting their toes together, talking about the horror stories of the boys at Hawkins High. Yet all Robin can think about is Y/n. Sitting so close to her that their knees are bumping into each other. Y/n isn't adding anything to the conversation, nor is Robin, so Robin's conversation tries to have a conversation with her. "You're quiet; everything alright?" Robin asks Y/n, and when she looks over her shoulder at Robin, Robin swears her heart stops dead in beats.

"Is it that obvious?" Y/n asks Robin. "What do you mean?" Robin asks, "I'm only here because they invited you." Y/n clarifies, oh, like a slap to her face. Robin takes a moment to react to the words that have reached her ears. Y/n is there because of her, and Robin is only there because of Y/n. "Well, can I tell you a secret," Robin says, whispering. Y/n nods. "I'm here because of you, too." There's a light blush on Y/N's cheeks.

Robin and Y/n are unaware of the countdown in the background. Girls giggling together as they whoop and holler together. Instead, they are so wrapped up in each other. Robins's hands pull Y/n close by her hips and Y/n icy cold hands are pressed firmly into each side of Robins's cheeks. "I have to say this is a best new year I've had in a while." Robin squeaks out before Y/n shuts Robin up with a life-bringing kiss.

Steve Harrington

His parents were only ever home for a few days during the holidays. They had insisted on Steve bringing you to their New Year's Party. His mother was so excited when she learned that her son was finally dating again. She said Steve had been spending too much time with those kids. This party isn't really a party for young adults. It's meant for his father and mother to keep up with their appearances in Hawkins and get a more extensive social network.

So Steve pulled you away. His hand on your lower back towards his bedroom. A red solo cup filled with something of a mix, something that his father had no clue he was drinking. Steve shuts the bedroom gently to keep the sound of the light music out. "Are your parents always like that?" Y/n asks him. He shrugs his shoulders and sits down next to her on the bed. The conversation downstairs migrates outside towards the poolside. "You think they might all freeze out before returning inside?" Steve asks Y/n, and she giggles. "I'm not sure, baby."

The clock on the side table reads 11:58pm. Steve leans in. "You know you look beautiful today," Steve tells her matter-of-factly. They hum and lean in closer. They both can feel their breath from each other. The countdown to the new year is happening in slow motion as Steves's hand wraps around the back of Y/N's neck to pull them closer to his lips. When the flashes of bright colors come over through Steve's window after loud bangs of fireworks outside. He closes the gap between the both of them. A soft, meaningful kiss. One that becomes heated and addictive almost immediately. Y/n's hands are holding close, one on his chest feeling his heartbeat, the other resting on his slightly stumbled cheek. Steve pulls back lightly and whispers against Y/n's wet lips, "Happy New Year, baby."

Completed on: 12/23/23

Posted on: 01/03/24

The Adults-

[bakeryblood]

Hi! Could i get a NSFW polyfic of Argyle & Jonathan whos dating a taller gothic metalhead boyfriend?<333

So y’all know if I come out of retirement for this it’ll probably end with Jonathan and Reader dead💀 Because ofc it would

But also, hear me out- road trip to a music festival (setting accurate so this ain’t no bonnaroo)

They all trip on shrooms and while Jonathan and Y/N are getting all introspective and getting in a good therapy session Argyle is having an out of body bad trip just giggling once n a while