#jonathan byers x yn | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bagsybaggins · 1 year ago

Text

Chapter 8: Strange Feelings

[Previous Chapter]

YN opened her eyes, looking up at her ceiling, a sense of something wrong tinting the air. She inhaled softly, turning her head towards her nightstand and looking at the clock. Groaning at the time, she rolled out of her bed and rubbed her eyes. She closed her eyes, listening to the sound of Dustin and Mom fawning over Dustin's costume.

'Dare-'

Opening her eyes she looked up, turning to the end of her bed. She frowned, her fingers curling into her blanket before she shook her head. Standing up from her bed, she yawned as she walked towards her door, opening it and hearing Mom ask to see Dustin's 'pearls.' As she turned towards the living room, she paused as she felt a shiver crawl up her spine. She looked to her left, towards the basement door, an feeling in her brain pulling her towards the door.

"Dare-Bear! Why aren't you ready for school?" Her Mom said, breaking Dare out of her staring match with the door.

"Sorry Mom, woke up late."

---

"No, Nancy-"

Nancy leaned against her locker as she looked at me. "Come on Dare, you can't just not go."

I look at her from the corner of my eyes and raise my brow. She sighs while rolling her eyes.

"I mean you could, but I want you to be there Dare. So you can stop me from doing anything stupid."

I pause for a moment, my hand still on my notebook before I sigh. "I'll think about it, okay?"

She smiled and opened her mouth to say something, but I interrupt her.

"I mean it, Nance." I close my locker, turning to her with my books in my arms. "I'll think about it, but you know how I feel about parties. If I don't go, you can't be mad at me. It always ends up the same way, with a bunch of drunk people and stupid mistakes."

She stares at me, her smile drifting slowly, and then she nods. "Alright, that's fine. Just give it some thought, and call me when you decide okay?"

I smile and nod my head. "Will do Nance. I'll see you later."

I brush past her and head to my next class, knowing that if I turned to look, she would be watching me with a frown.

I knew she wasn't mad, but she wasn't happy either. If Barb was here, she would've gone and I would be either at home or with Dustin trick or treating. That's how it always went. And I didn't want to change that.

I sigh heavily as I turn into my next class, my eyes drifting close as I try to calm down my brain. Stopping it from frying with overthinking. From trying to think about what could happen if I went, what could go wrong. About what could happen if I didn't go.

"Shit!" I exclaim as I run into somebody, my nose hurting from hitting their chest.

As I rub my nose, I open my eyes and look at who I had run into.

The new guy, Billy I think his name was, smirked down at me. My eyebrows furrow as I look at him in confusion, before I shake it off.

"Sorry, didn't see you there," I mutter, taking my hand off my nose.

"Course you didn't see me there, you had your eyes closed." He said, crossing his arms and leaning in closer to me.

I raise my right brow before smiling thinly and nodding my head. "Yep, you're right. My bad."

I try to brush past him but he puts his hand on my left shoulder, stopping me. I turn to him and he smiles down at me.

"Sorry, I think we got off on the wrong foot. I'm Billy Hargrove, and you are?" He asks.

I stare up at him, my nerves buzzing underneath my skin before I sigh. "I'm YN, YN Henderson. You're Max's brother, right?"

He raises his brow before nodding his head, snapping his finger, and pointing at me. "That's right, you're the one who had called out her name our first day here. In the parking lot, right?"

Nodding my head I smile. "Yeah, that's right. She's awesome, kicked my ass at a few of the arcade games."

He pauses for a moment, his smile frozen on his face as he looks down at me. Then he laughs and his smile stretched wider, leaning in towards me.

"She's always been good things like that. Say, are you going to the party tonight?"

I hesitate to answer as the bell rings, and I chuckle awkwardly. "I'm not a fan of parties actually. But, if I'm there, I guess you'll see me."

And I push past him with a smile. "It was nice talking to you!" And I head towards my seat, him watching me before he left the classroom.

---

Dare sighed as she sat down at the normal table for lunch taking off her hat, crossing her arms on the table, and resting her forehead against them. She closed her eyes, breathing in for a moment and letting herself relax.

"Hey, Dare-Bear."

She huffed as she felt Eddie sit down beside her. "I thought I told you to not call me that."

His laughter caused her to look up and glare at him.

"Just because you tell me to not do it, Sweetheart doesn't mean that I'm not gonna keep doing it." He grins as he leans his head on his hand, looking down at her.

She rolls her eyes, turning her head so she faced him, but didn't lift her head from her arms. "True enough, Edward."

Eddie visibly pulled back, his face scrunched up in a frown of disgust. "Don't call me that, ever again."

She cracked open her eyes, lifting her brow. He sighed and nodded his head. "Fine, no more Dare-Bear."

She smiled.

"But I'm keeping Sweetheart then!" He exclaimed, lifting his index finger as if to make a point.

She sighed and lifted her head. "Fine, I'll allow it."

Eddie grinned before leaning his head back on his hand. "So what's up with the long face Sweets?"

Dare paused, glancing at him before sighing and resting her chin on her hand. "Nancy wants me to come to the party tonight."

Eddie raised his brow, nodding his head. "And I take it that you don't want to?"

Dare huffed before shrugging, leaning back and her hands dropping to her lap. "No, not really. But, I don't want to go trick or treating this year either." She turned to him. "But I also want to make sure Nancy doesn't do anything stupid, like puke in the bushes."

Eddie cringed, agreeing with her with a nod of his head. "Right, right. So what do you plan on doing?"

Dare hesitated before slouching over in her spot. "I guess I'm going to the party. Not like I have anything better to do, you know?"

He shrugged. "I mean, you could always hang out with me."

Dare smiled and grabbed her hat, putting it back on. "True, but how about you come along! We can just hang out there, making sure to disappear so we don't have to get involved with whatever happens."

Eddie paused, his lips thinning as he looks away from her. Dare laughs as she nudges his shoulder with her own.

"Come on Eddie! Who knows, it might not be a shitshow!" She smiles widely as she pokes his side. "Don't leave me to the wolves Eds!"

He groaned, throwing his head back and brushing her hand away. "Fine, FINE! I'll go."

Dare let out a cheerful whoop, her arm slinging around Eddie's neck. "YES!"

Eddie laughed, hugging her back briefly before pulling away, his ears a bright red beneath his hair.

"Yeah yeah, don't act so excited. I doubt you'll even notice me, I tend to blend into the background." He coughed as he looked back at her.

Dare smiled and shook her head. "Guess I'll just have to go and find you, now won't I."

He grins at her, nodding his head. "Guess you will."

---

"Nancy-"

"No, Dare. You look great like this!" Nancy exclaimed as she put on some eyeliner on me.

I glare up at her before brushing her hand away, looking over at the mirror. I pause before nodding my head and shrugging. "Alright, you're not wrong."

She grinned at me as I stood up and walked to the door. "Steve driving us?" I ask, turning to her as I put on my hat.

"Yes he is, but don't wear the hat-"

I stick out my tongue and turn back around. "Not happening Nance, either the hat stays or you go with Steve without me."

She huffs as she crosses her arms, her brow raised at me. I cross my arms, mimicking her. And soon enough, she folds and rolls her eyes.

"Fine, you can wear your hat." She looks back at the mirror, fixing her little ribbon. "You do know that this is a costume party, right?"

I hum as I look down at my attire, shrugging quickly. "I'm dressed as Sarah Connor, or at least I tried to dress as her. So I'd say I got my costume as close as I could to the real thing." I look back at her, raising my brow. "And you are?"

She looks at me, but before she could say anything, there was a knock on the door.

"Nancy! Steve's here!" Mrs. Wheeler said through the door, and I sigh.

"Coming!" Nancy called out before giving me a look. "Just try to enjoy tonight, alright?"

I look at her as I nibble on my bottom lip, before nodding. "Alright, I'll try. Just don't do any stupid shit, alright?"

She smiles at me, nodding her head as she hooks her arm around mine. "Of course not."

---

Dare sighs heavily as she finally escapes the heat of the dance floor, going into the backyard that wasn't as crowded as it was inside. She blows a strand of hair out of her face, adjusting her grey jacket so it was rolled up to her elbows. She pulled at the collar of the peach and white tie-dyed shirt, grimacing at the scratching of the tag in the back.

She paused for a moment, looking over the crowd of people in the backyard, drunkenly dancing to the music. She didn't exactly know how long she had been separate from Nancy, but she knew that Steve would keep her safe. Dare frowned again, not seeing any good familiar faces that she had wanted to see.

Towards the edge of the fence, Eddie stood with his arms crossed. He couldn't believe he was there, but he knew why he was. He sighed for what seemed to be the hundredth time before he finally noticed the person he had been searching for. Only, she hadn't noticed him.

He took a moment to focus on her, standing on his toes and moving around people to catch a clearer look at her. He smiled when he realized what she had worn as her costume. He glanced down at himself, the warmth creeping onto his face as he remember what he had decided to wear. And they were matching.

He had gone as, in his own style, Kyle Reese. From the Terminator movie, they had gone to see together almost three days ago. And she was Sarah Connor, but wearing the same hat that she always wore.

He grinned a little wider as he watched her flip off someone who had obviously bumped into her, her frow visible from there. The feeling in his stomach fluttered again as she crossed her arms, leaning back against the house. He inhaled sharply as her gaze drifted over where he was.

But the butterfly in his stomach started to sink, as her attention was caught by someone else. Billy had approached her, smiling as he recognized her. And she returned it, though not as widely as he had.

"YN, you're here. I'm glad you could make it." Billy said as he leaned his right arm on the house. "I guess you arrived a little late, you weren't there when I was announced the keg king."

Dare laughed and shook her head, her smile thinning. "No, must have just missed it."

Her eyes drifted over the sea of people in the backyard, before Billy leaned in closer and blocked her vision.

"What's on your mind? Can't stand the sight of me?" He laughed, his smile faltering just ever so slightly.

Dare's eyes widened before she shook her head rapidly. "Oh no! I was just, worried. I couldn't find my friend, and I just wanted to-"

Billy chuckled and nodded. "To look after them, right?"

Dare paused before smiling softly. "Yeah, it's what I do."

Dare flushed a soft pink as Billy leaned in more, a smirk drifting across his lips. "So would you take care of me too?" His hand pushed her cap up from her face.

Her brows twitched downward at his words, confused she asked, "What-"

But before she could finish her sentence, Billy kissed her.

Eddie felt his heart drop to his stomach, hell to his feet. He knew that some part of him wanted to scream, to pull her away from him. But he didn't. He couldn't. His fingers clenched tightly into a fist, his eyes narrowing as he glares at the two. But then he remembers.

She wasn't his.

Eddie exhaled and turned away from them, walking back towards the gate to leave. He paused for a moment, looking back at the two, before walking out.

Dare leaned back, her eyes wide and her cheeks a bright red as she parted from the sudden kiss.

"Why'd you do that?" She asked softly, her voice in disbelief.

Billy smiled as he leaned back toward her, his hand cupping her cheek, and his thumb touching her bottom lip. "Because you're adorable."

Dare blinked at him before reaching up and pulling her cap down, stepping out of his reach. "I should go check on my friend."

He laughed as she scrambled towards the door, not missing the redness of her cheeks.

"I'll find you later YN." He called after her, causing her to pause and look back at him. "You still need to take care of me, right?"

Her throat tightened and she looked away from him, trying to blend into the crowd as she tried to go back inside. But as she looked towards the fence, she stared at the back of someone who was walking away. She felt like she knew them, but she couldn't put her finger on it. But she recognized the coat from the movie. Someone had been her Kyle, and she didn't get to meet them.

---

"I don't understand Steve! What the hell happened?" Dare yelled as she followed him to his car.

"What do you want me to say, Dare?" He said as he turned around, looking at her with his eyes slightly red. "She told me she wasn't in love with me. Said that it was bullshit, that I was bullshit."

Dare gaped at him before frowning heavily. "What else happened Steve?"

Steve shook his head with a scoff, his arms hitting his sides. "Nothing else happened-"

Dare glared at him, her finger poking into his chest as she pointed her finger at him. "I know Nancy, Steve! What set her off, what else happened?"

He paused for a moment before sighing, looking down at the ground. "Barbra's parents, they're selling the house because they need money to try and find Barbra."

Dare's eyes widen as she takes a step back, her shoulders slacking. "Oh."

Steve nodded, not looking up from the ground. "Yeah."

She put her hands on her hip looking back at the house that was still lively, before looking back at Steve. His eyes were red, and his sniffling made her sigh.

"You should head home Steve-" He looked up at her, his eyes darting back to the house for a moment.

"No, I need to take-"

Dare shook her head, putting her hand on his shoulder. "No, Steve. You need to go home, wait until tomorrow when she's sober okay. Then you can talk to her. I saw Jonathan in there, and I'm sure he'd be fine with taking her home. But right now, you need space okay."

Steve frowned heavily, opening his mouth to argue before Dare covered his mouth with her hand.

"Go home." She glared at him lightly, waiting for him to nod his head.

"Fine, I'll go." He sighed as he pushed her hand away. "Do you need a ride?"

Dare paused, frowning in thought before sighing. "I should get back, or maybe try to find Dustin and them."

Steven nodded his head, sniffing one more time as he wiped the corner of his eyes. "Then, umm, hop in."

---

I sighed softly as I looked out the window as we drove by the many trick-or-treaters. I glanced at Steve from the corner of my eyes, frowning when I see him wipe at his eyes again. I bite the inside of my cheek, before mentally kicking myself.

"You can drop me off here. They're over there." I say, lying through my teeth.

He turns to me before looking ahead and nodding. "Alright." He said softly.

I huff and smile as he pulls to the curb. "Thanks, Steve. And, give her time. I'm sure everything will work out eventually." I grin lightly as I open the door and step out.

He nods his head, not looking at me. "Thanks, Dare. You're really nice."

I shrug. "It's only for my friends. Have a good night Steve."

I shut the door after hearing him repeat it back, waving at him as I walk in the opposite direction. He pulled away from the curb, driving off towards his home before I groan and turn around and head towards my house.

I walk through the sea of trick-or-treaters, laughing to myself at some of the silly costumes. Most of them were heading home, their bags full or because of their own curfews. And I knew that the boys were on their way home too. And as I turn the block, not too far from my house, I notice something strange.

I frown as I continue walking down the street, my hands shoved into the pockets of my jacket. As I get close to the edge of my street, the blue figure turned toward me. Hesitating to step forward, I glance around at the nearby trick-or-treaters, noticing how they didn't spare the figure a glance. Swallowing thickly, I push the growing fear down, taking another step towards the figure.

As I decide to ignore it, pretending that it wasn't there, I feel the fear bubble as it turns and follows me after I had passed it. I didn't look at it, nor did I hear its steps. But I could feel it following me, somehow I did. Turning my head ever so slightly, I try to get a look at it from the corner of my eyes, but a car passes by and the figure is gone.

My nerves are buzzing beneath my skin, and I couldn't ignore the feeling anymore. I turn down my street and run towards my house, ignoring my lungs as I feel them constrict. My feet thumping against the ground, and my heart pounding in my ears doesn't block out the feeling that it was still following me. Watching me.

As I turn to the front door, my hand on the handle, I look back. But there was nothing. I heaved and wheezed as I shuffle into my pants for my inhaler, my eyes glancing around for the blue figure. And even as I manage to calm my asthma down, the figure was gone. And the feeling had faded away.

I sigh heavily, placing my inhaler back in my pocket and opening the door. Relief floods through me as I walk into my house, my eyes drifting to my mother who had fallen asleep on the couch. I smile as I walk toward her, grabbing the remote from the side table and turning the tv off.

"Taking care of your Mom as always." I hear a voice say, one I hadn't heard in a long time.

I let the remote fall from my hands as I turn my head towards the sound of the voice. My eyes widen in panic and horror as the blue figure steps out of the kitchen doorway, and into view.

My father smiles at me, his body a strange see-through blue. Like from Star Wars. His eyes drift to mine, and his smile falters for a moment. His brows furrow as he takes a step closer and points to himself.

"Can you see me, Dare-Bear?" He asks, and I inhale deeply.

And then I turn around and head straight out the door. I ignore him calling my name, jumping down the steps, and grabbing my bike.

"Dare- YN wait! We need to talk if you can see me-"

"I am not talking to a figment of my imagination Dad!" I pause as I look at him, before shaking my head. "This isn't okay."

He calls out for me as I peddle down the street, with only one destination in mind. To the one person who I knew I could count on. Hopper.

---

I had seen his car speed down the street from the road I was about to turn on. And I failed to get him to stop. And after chasing him, for what seemed to be hours, I caught up to him. His car was left on a trail deep in the woods, I could see the cabin not too far from the car. And after I stopped and used the rest of my inhaler, I decided to take my time with actually getting to the door.

"Why is he all the way out here?" I mutter to myself, huffing as I drop my bike next to his car.

As I walk towards the house, I notice a small flash near the ground. I frown before moving my head back and seeing it again.

"Is that a wire, or a spider web?" I ask, before kneeling and putting my hand out.

My eyes widen as I feel the thick wire against my fingertips, and I launch myself backward. I sit on my butt, staring at it in confusion before inhaling deeply.

"It's probably nothing." I stand up, stepping over the trip wire carefully, and then walk to the house.

As I walk onto the wooden porch, I hear footsteps on the other side of the wall. I quietly kneel, trying to creep to the door, feeling like something was off. Maybe my gut was just going haywire, but something wasn't right.

Kneeling in front of the door, I listen in on what was going on inside. The tv was playing in another room, but heavy footsteps were moving around in the living room. I frown heavily before I reach into my pocket and get the bobby pins from it. I swallow down the lump in my throat, slide the pins into the door, and slowly try to pick it. I could feel the cold October breeze against the back of my neck and against my cheeks as I heard the audible click, and how it went silent on the inside.

I quickly turn the handle and push the door open, climbing to my feet before raising my hands.

"WHOA WHOA HOP! IT'S ME!" I yell as I was met with the barrel of the gun. "It's just me Hop, don't shoot."

He stares at me in disbelief, before lowing the gun and putting the safety on. "Jesus Christ Kid. You almost got yourself killed! Why the hell are you here? Did you follow me?"

I slowly drop my hands to my side and shake my head, before nodding. "Yeah, I followed you. But for a good reason! I needed to talk to you about something! I saw-"

"No, Kid you need to go home. You can tell me tomorrow-" And he tried to push me out the door before the door opened behind him.

We froze as I looked over his shoulder and made eye contact with someone else who I thought was dead, or gone. But she wasn't blue like he was.

"Hopper, what the fuck?" I say slowly, turning to him in disbelief.

---

I cover my eyes as I try to digest what he had just told me. How he had been hiding her for months. How she had been with him for months and didn't tell us shit.

"Look, Kid. I understand that you're upset-"

I scoff and shake my head, lifting my hands from my face. "No Hop, I'm not upset. I'm angry and confused. Because I don't know what is going on with me, and now you’re adding this-"

"Whoa whoa whoa. Hey, what do you mean you don't know what's going on with you? What's going on with you?" He asked as he kneeled down in front of me, with Eleven to my right.

I fiddle with my fingers before I look at him again.

"It's crazy Hop. I think I might be going crazy." I whisper, my voice breaking as I feel my emotions starting to boil over.

He frowns and shakes his head. "You're not crazy, why would you think you're crazy Kid?"

I exhale deeply before sniffing slightly. "I saw Dad."

He paused, his face frozen in confusion and disbelief before he frowned again. 'What do you mean, you saw your Dad?"

I inhale deeply as I cross my arms and lean back against the couch. "I was on my way home, from the party. And I saw him, on my street. I didn't recognize him because I didn't get close to him. I felt like I was being watched, so I ran home. And when I walked in, he was in the kitchen so I didn't notice him." I pause as I look back at Hopper. "But then he said, 'Taking care of your Mom as always.' And I just froze."

Hopper rubbed his hand over his mouth, nodding his head.

"And then, we made eye contact. And he asked me if I could see him. And I just ran, Hop. I just ran away, because I was scared. I was remembering that night when I had- had found his body. And I just kept remembering that he was dead, and gone. He's gone-" I blink as my eyes begin to sting and tear up, and Hopper quickly brings me into his arms.

"He's dead, so why am I seeing him, Hop? I shouldn't- I can't." I sob as he comforts me, his hand on my back as he tries to calm me. I could feel El's hand on my shoulder as he patted my back.

"It's alright Kid. Calm down, it's alright. You're safe. Just calm down, take deep breaths." He inhales, and I struggle to copy him. "In and out Kid."

I close my eyes and focus on breathing in slowly, hearing him count down from three. And then we exhale before he nods his head. And we just breathe for a minute or two.

"Better?" He asks, and I nod my head pulling back and wiping my cheeks.

"Yeah. Thanks." I whisper before he nods his head.

"What did he look like exactly Kid? Can you tell me if anything was off about him?" Hopper questioned, no doubt wanting to figure out what was happening.

I nod my head. "He was blue and see-through. Like a Star Wars ghost. And he," I paused as I frowned, trying to remember how he looked. "He looked like the way he did before he died. No bullet wound, no blood. He looked normal."

Hopper sighed while nodding his head, standing up. He rubbed his chin in thought before I stood up.

"Hopper is there a chance-"

He shakes his head. "I don't know Kid. But if you see him again. Tell me, alright? I want you to call me."

I slowly nod my head before crossing my arms. "Can I stay here with El? Just for tonight?"

He stares at me before nodding his head with a huff. "Fine, alright. But be sure to not tell anyone, alright? We can't have them learning that she's still alive."

Looking down at El, I nod my head. "Alright, will do Hop."

---

Dare yawned as she opened her eyes, the new day arriving, and a feeling of dread settling into her stomach. As she sat up on the makeshift bed on the floor beside El, she looked over at the girl who was sleeping peacefully. She sighed and slowly got to her feet and opened the door. Hopper was already awake, and he turned to her as she walked out, shutting the door behind her.

"Morning Kid."

She smiled thinly before nodding. "Morning Hop."

He looked at her as he popped some Eggos into the toaster before he place some on a plate in front of her. With a frown, she shook her head and pushed the plate an inch away from her.

"No thanks, Hop. I'm not hungry." She muttered before clearing her throat. "Can you take me home? I need to get ready for school, and check on Dustin."

Hopper stared at her for a moment before nodding with a sigh. "Alright Kid."

---

I inhaled deeply as I stepped out of Hopper's car, waving him goodbye before he stopped me.

"Remember what we talked about."

I nod my head before turning back towards the front door. As I push my keys in, Mom swings the door open and pulls me into a hug.

"Oh, Dare-Bear! I was so worried about you! I almost called the Wheelers to see if you were staying at Nancy's!" She exclaimed loudly in my ear and I force a thin smile onto my face.

"I did Mom, just didn't feel good so I headed home," I say as I pull back from her hug, my eyes drifting towards the figure I had seen the night before.

"You ready to talk?" He asked gently, his arms crossed as he looked at me.

I sigh and push past Mom. "I think I'll stay home today Mom. I'm not feeling well still."

"Oh alright- Would you like me to make some soup?"

I shake my head. "No, I just want to rest Mom."

I walk into the hall, looking back at Dad before Dustin opens his door.

"Dare! You won't believe what I found-"

I close my eyes as I open my door. "Not now Dustin, please."

And I close the door behind me before collapsing on my bed and closing my eyes.

I inhale deeply and open my eyes, noticing Dad standing in front of the door.

"Alright," I say as I sit up, crossing my legs and turning to him. "What the hell is going on Dad?"

#stranger things #eddie munson x yn #eddie munson x henderson!reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #yn dare henderson #hawkins #steve harrington #nancy wheeler #jonathan byers #will byers #mike wheeler #the freaking rebel #chief hopper #eleven

11 notes · View notes

morganwrites12672 · 2 years ago

Note

hi ! I love your writing and i was wondering if you could make a robin x byers? And they got caught by Joyce and shes all nice about it and will feels more comfortable to come out too or something like that idk, i need some comfort rn

Ofc! I love writing Robin, (the best lesbian in all of Hawkins)

Robin Buckley x Byers!Reader

'I can explain!'

How long would your family believe you and Robin were 'best friends'? Best friends don't look at each other like you two. And best friends definitely don't make out.

"I love you," you smile as Robin whispers those words into your ear. You had told your mom that you were having Robin over for the night, as she was your best friend, and practically lived with your family.

"I love you more," you whisker back and she smiles before pressing another kiss to your forehead. Robin loved forehead kisses, getting them and giving them.

"What if we get caught?" Robin asks. You can tell she is anxious by the way her hand is strangling yours. And you swear you can feel her pulse going a million miles a hour.

"Jonathan and Will knock, and my mom will since you're over," you mention. Robin smiles and pushes you back again.

You're lying flat on your back as she presses kisses to your face. Robin loved you, and kissing you. She ends the kisses with a sloppy one on your lips.

You capture her tongue as she wraps her arms around your neck-

"Yn?" A voice asks and you and Robin jump apart. Your mom was standing in the doorway with a small smile.

"I can explain," you blurt. "you see, Robin had some, uh she wanted to know if I was a better kisser then this guy she went on a date with," you blurted out the first shitty excuse you could think of.

"Sit down," Joyce says and you both sit on the edge of the bed, she stands in front of your two speaking, "Honey, I will love you either way. And if you both don't want to tell anyone else, that is completely fine. But I expect you both to behave yourselves during these sleepovers," your mom says and you know what she means. As if you two had sex with everyone in the house.

"Ew, ew ew, deal," Robin blurts before burying her face in your pillow. Joyce laughs and walks out, shutting the door. She trusted you a lot, and robin.

"Maybe I should put 'Im Gay Bitches' on a cake?" You asks and Robin laughs, "No, I have a better idea. I could tell Jonathan his girlfriend is hot," you joke and Robin laughs.

"She kinda is,"

"She's better then Tammy," with those words Robin groans.

"We agreed to never speak of that again. Ever," Robin says and points a very accusing finger at you. You laugh before smoking and making a lip locking notion with your finger, before handing Robin the key.

"I can tell them at dinner," you suggest and Robin nods. If you came out, so did she, "You're okay with that?"

"Yeah, but you don't have to if you aren't ready," Robin replies. Of course she would be supportive. If you wanted to shout it out for all of the town, she would be right by your side.

After a few more hours, Joyce tells for dinner. You sign and walk out with Robin. This was going to be scary as hell.

Everybody is making plates as you both sit down and get yours. It looked like some type of casserole, and there was cheese on top.

"How's Nancy?" You ask to get some form of small talk going. Robin discreetly grabbed your hand under the table as a form of comfort. And God did you need it.

"She's good," Jonathan replies. You sigh, this was not going to be easy.

"That's good, but yeah. Why do you like her?" You ask and Jonathan looks confused.

"What? I mean she's really perfect, pretty, smart, she's always been super caring, and you guys get along. Why?" Jonathan asks.

"I actually found someone a lot like that, but better," you say with a smile and Jonathan and will look at each other, shocked.

"Who is it?" Will instantly asks. The only person you really hung out with was Robin, and Steve? Were you dating his babysitter?

"Robin," you reply with a small smile and Robin gives an awkward wink at Jonathan.

"You're gay?" Will asks. It seems more like a comfort then a question. He was slightly glad you were.

"Yep, I guess nobody but mom likes guys," you say an Robin nods.

"I actually like one," will says. He smiles, and blushes.

"It's Mike! I know it is," Robin half yells and you all laugh. Of course he did. Will looked at Mike like you looked at Robin.

"I love you guys no matter what," your mom says and Jonathan is still slightly confused. He doesn't say anything though.

Your family was perfect, no matter what.

----------------------------------------------------------

Requests are open! My pinned post has all of the characters and people I write for!

#robin buckley x female reader #robin buckley #robin buckley fluff #robin buckley x fem!reader #robin buckley x y/n #robin buckley x reader #robin buckley x you #Robin Buckley x Byers!reader #robin buckley x fem!reader smut

215 notes · View notes

strangerthingsfan-fics · 1 year ago

Text

God I missed you steve Harrington x Fem!byers reader

Warnings-kissing,swearing,happy tears,cute,reader coming back from hospital

You was in hospital from all the stuff that’s happend with vecna sent you insane slightly and you was really badly injured and nobody was allowed to see you except your mum and brothers

When you got out you smiled tiredly at your mum and brother Jonathan in the waiting room and Jonathan hugged you

“Where’s will” you chuckle

“Toilet he wanted to go to the toilet before the car back” Joyce smiles at how happy you are to be out

When will came out the toilet he ran to you hugging you making you bash into a wall

“Hey hey easy on her she’s not fully recovered” jonathan held wills arm

“It’s fine hey tiger” you wince in pain

Will was so happy and he was telling you all about what you missed

“Steve was moody because he couldn’t see you I got some new dnd stuff I went to mikes for a weekend I’ve not been having flashbacks and we had your favourite food susie and Dustin broke up eddie has been trying to help Steve to stop him being mardy it didn’t help max taught me to skateboard I can go down a ramp now” will said

“How you holding up” Jonathan asked

“In pain but I’ll be fine” you winced in pain again

You got back to your house and went in the shower and got changed but during getting changed you saw all the stitches scars and the mark on your stomach you breathed heavily when you crouched down

You got changed into a pair of shorts and a T shirt wincing when you lifted your arms up to put it on

Jonathan and will drive you to the wheeler house to see Nancy and will kept hugging you at one point knocking your stomach making you grip to the holder on the car not telling will he hurt you because you don’t wanna make him feel bad

You got to the wheelers and knocked on the door and so many people was there and Nancy ran to you

“My favourite byers” Nancy laughed

“Rude I’m your boyfriend” Jonathan scoffed

“You wasn’t in hospital for 3 months” Nancy chuckled

You hugged Nancy and looked for Steve but holly ran to you so as you crouched down your knees cracked making you shiver but you didn’t care you picked holly up and hugged her

“Holly what’s yn” nancy smiled

“Hero” holly giggled

You smiled at her little voice and tickled her cheek

“Someone’s been waiting to see you” nancy took holly off you and lead you to the back garden

Jonathan had his camrea and was recording when you walked out steve was stood there and Jonathan got the reaction of you running in pain and hugging Steve

“God I missed you” Steve smiled

“I missed you more” you start tearing up

“Those eye bags looking good on you beautiful” Steve chuckled

“Shut up your so fucking mean and I just came out of hospital” you laugh

“Well that’s my way of affection” Steve chuckled at you

You smiled and kissed him holding his shoulders till he lifted you up holding the back of your knees

#stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x you #steve stranger things

17 notes · View notes

dimepdf · 2 years ago

Note

Jonathan Byers x amab reader Harrington? Maybe Steve has a twin brother who comes home from another state and sees Jonathan in the school one day and finds him attractive? So he starts hanging out with him more, and they get really close, way too close even, and they start going out in private, and then one day Jonathan just rails him in his car?

WORTH YOU. + JONATHAN BYERS

masterlist. / taglist. / any request? synopsis. you'd spent a lot of time with Jonathan, and before you knew it, your feelings for him had surfaced. you tried to hide the uneasy feeling that surrounded you whenever you two hung out alone. author's note. the kissing scene is inspired by my favorite book “Perks of being a Wallflower”. I was literally reading it before writing it and went….wait. also sorry that its kinda long i got so into the show that i'm watching and just mashed together ideas.

[ ❥ ] pairing. jonathan byers x reader

[ ❥ ] word count. 7.4k

[ ❥ ] genre & warnings. 18+, male reader, twin reader, black sheep, top!jonathan, bottom!reader, heavy angst at the start, mentions of mental illness, outcasts, internalized homophobia, messy confessions, pining, first kiss, first time, not show canon cause idc, oral (m), jonathan giving that gawk gawk 9000, kind of discrete sex, fuckin in a car, fingering, unprotected sex, biting, grammaly is my beta reader sorry for the mistakes

You never considered Hawkins, Indiana to be a fucked up place; moreover, you just thought the town was pretty washed up, lacking adventure and difference.

It seemed like there would always be people in your business, no matter the situation at hand, always judging you for some gossip that had slipped from your personal life.

That had been the main reason you had to move away for almost an entire year, resting in the guest room of your grandparent's barn house across the states.

Your father made up his mind that sending you away to live with your grandparents would be better than you continuing to stay with them and being rumored to be a "tainted" child in the Harrington family. You weren't tainted, or at least you didn't believe you were.

You found yourself to just be mentally ill in terms of your lack of happiness declining all because of your parent's lack of affection growing up.

Another trait that you had gained during your very confusing journey of rocky puberty was the weird gut feeling you would get for the other boys in your class. You knew it was odd to see boys the same way your brother would see girls.

So you suppressed the feelings all the way until you wouldn't feel anything. But of course, people in Hawkins would talk.

They would talk until it would lead to the solitude of your home, the one place that you had thought to feel safe. But that was a lie as long as your father lived there.

People took notice of the way you would hang back, how you would rather be alone in your head instead of being a social butterfly like your other half, Steve.

People could purely take you apart just from one glance. Steve cares a lot about his self-image as well as the public opinion of perfection screwed into his perfect little brain.

You, on the other hand, were more carefree, wearing clothes that just felt comfortable and speaking in the same flat tone to everyone only whenever you had something to say.

You truly were the Harrington family black sheep, which didn't fit your family's perfect image, so your father did what any parent would do with their mentally ill child in the 80s: send you away to be someone else's problem.

That someone else being your kind and caring grandparents out in the sticks, their farm becoming your home for a nice handful of years, all the way until your grandparents decided that they couldn't financially care for you anymore.

You didn't blame them as they sent you back home to Hawkins, having already returned to the years of grown trauma. You were less than happy to be back home.

Along with seeing how much your twin brother had changed dramatically appearance-wise. Steve having gotten more toned from being on the basketball team.

You were visibly more scrawny, your hair longer just chin-length, not even enough care to trim it, along with your lack of pale skin from spending most of your time on the farm outside with the animals.

Steve just seemed like the more sheltered version of you, like everything that could have gone right.

You tried blending in with everyone; you tried. It seemed like people would instantly recognize you from middle school.

The rumored "other brother." eyes would be on you everywhere the moment you stepped foot through the Hawkins school hallways with your head held high and music blaring from your headphones.

You were the mystery child that everyone wanted to know. You rejected the social cue, stomped on it, and kicked it out of your way. You didn't care for the social cliches or the weird "king Steve" title your brother had earned from being Mr. Popular.

Unknowingly, you had tipped the scale that had held your high school from tumbling apart. You were off the hinges, not following any of the "rules" that Steve passed on as advice. You saw it all as just silly things that silly people follow.

Which was why you had taken a liking towards Jonathan Byers.

You hadn't known the boy earlier in your childhood, not really recognizing him as any of the kids that you would play with down the street until you realized that when you were younger, your parents practically handpicked the children that you were allowed to be friends with.

You guessed that was the main reason you attached to Jonathan so quickly; his outcast and shy demeanor just clicked with your personality.

You just being polar opposites, him just wanting to keep his head down, although out of high school, you just wanted to stand up for yourself and have fun.

The more you hung with the dark brunette, the more you realized how angry Steve would become with you, almost throwing a tantrum, seeing you sneak out only to find the Byers boy waiting in your driveway waiting to pick you up.

You didn't understand why Steve had been so pissed about Jonathan, not really caring much to listen to the whole thing with his new fling, Nancy Wheeler.

You chose to stay out of any relationships he had in hopes that he would catch the idea and follow suit.

It seemed like you had spent a lot of your time hanging out with Jonathan. If you weren't at school, you were at his place, and if you weren't at his place, you were chilling behind the counter keeping him company at his part-time job.

You two had become attached at the hip, spending so much time together that even Joyce would be surprised if she hadn’t bumped into you during the afternoons that she had been returning home from her job.

And before you know it, something clicks. Your suppressed emotions are now finally coming to the surface like a shaken can of soda.

When you realized that the feelings you had towards Jonathan were more than just wanting to be friends, you found yourself thinking of more.

You were degrading yourself by thinking of your best friend in such inappropriate ways. But you were good at pretending, masking the uncomfortable feeling that shook around you every time you two would hang out alone.

Jonathan had to pretend like he hadn't noticed, pretend like he didn't notice you slipping away from him. Getting into a heated argument with Steve, your own brother, calls you a freak.

The one person that you had grown up with being the number one reason you felt so out of place in the world, you had to run to the only person that you knew would listen.

Jonathan woke at you climbing through his widow the moon outlining your stumbling figure as you asked him if he wanted to go somewhere to talk with tears brimming your eyes.

Jonathan tiredly agrees to drive you to the Quarry. There you two sat on the hood of his car and just talked. You vented until you couldn't anymore, telling Jonathan how out of sorts you felt with your family falling into shambles. It was nice to get things off your chest.

A peaceful moment of silence falls between you two. You can hear the sound of your heart lightly thumping against your chest just as you were about to call it a night. Before you know it, you turn your head and kiss the boy next to you.

You kiss Jonathan Byers, not on the cheek, not a peck, but a full-on kiss on the mouth.

A real kiss. The full-fledged kiss happens so quickly that Jonathan sort of freezes, his hands resting along your arm as he just lets your mouth attack.

His not being able to process that your lips were moving against his mouth, the kiss doesn't last that long. You lean away and just sort of sit there, processing what the hell just happened.

"I’m sorry." Your voice whispers as you look past Jonathan, your eyes unfocused as you try to make sense of all the sudden emotions washing over you.

"No, that's okay." Jonathan replies, his tone laced with sincerity.

"Really, Jonathan, I’m so sorry."

"No, really. It's okay Y/N." There was another beat of silence as you two just took it all in. You could feel your chest rising with every deep breath you took.

You hated it.

You hated feeling everything all at once. You didn't know what to do. You just wanted it all to stop. Before you know it, Jonathan is pulling you into a hug.

It's not a crappy side hug thing that you give your relatives when you're visiting them during the holidays; it's a real hug, one that feels like he was single-handedly trying to pull you down from that gray thundering cloud you had mounted yourself on.

When you pull away from the hug, Jothan doesn't say anything. You both don't speak much after following his lead as he ducks back into the car and starts the engine, his headlights beaming awake as Jonathan halts once more, his hands hovering over his steering wheel.

Before you could ask what's wrong, he moves in to kiss you again.

And you just let him. You don't know why it felt so good or why he had done it.

You don't do much but kiss for a while, at least until your lips feel like they are starting to swell.

It seemed like Jonathan had got the same idea. He pulled away with a sort of dazed look, shaking his head before returning his attention back to the wheel.

He drives in comforting silence, your head resting against the glass of the window as your fingers grace the skin of your lips, almost like you could still detect traces of him left on them.

When Jonathan pulls into your driveway, reality hits you like thrown bricks. You don't know what to say to him, so you don't say anything. You just unbuckle your seatbelt and exit his car without saying a word.

That night you sleep staring out your window, looking at the stars as you place a pillow over your head, muffling out the bed springs from Steve’s room. You fall asleep thinking about Jonathan and how he kissed you.

You don't say much to anyone during the morning, spending most of your day just focusing on your school work as the school day passes in the blink of an eye.

The only hard part was ignoring Jonathan during the lunch period you had together. Your stomach was turning and you had met eyes from across the cafeteria.

You spin on your heels and dunk your tray of untouched food into the trash, deciding to spend your lunch period in a back hallway with music blaring through your headphones, waiting for the hour to pass.

That was how you spent the rest of the day, hiding. It wasn't until the moon was up that you found your fingers ghosting over your lips, thinking about the kiss again.

You don't know what changed in your mind, but you decided that at that moment you needed to see Jonathan again, so you rushed down your stairs and passed the group of people that Steve had invited over.

Getting the old bike you haven't ridden since middle school out of the garage and onto the road, you biked the way to the main road that led to Jonathan's house.

Your lungs felt like they were going to burst at every pedal, leaving you breathless as you just realized you were in your pajamas and socks pedaling fast enough to keep you warm from the nipping late spring weather.

Finally, skidding into Jonathan's driveway, tossing the bike into the grass.

You don’t really have a plan on what to do once you have gotten to the porch of the home.

Your mind is racing as you sort of just scratch the back of your neck before turning around and tiptoeing to the side of the house.

You approached Jonathan's bedroom window, tapping slowly on the glass with your knuckle, flinching as the curtains parted. Jonathan glances down at you with a surprised look on his face. He was shirtless.

That was the second thing you noticed. You now knew that Jonathan had slept shirtless, along with the trail of hair that ran down his chest. You were gawking at him, eyeing him like meat.

You don't say anything as he yanks open his window. You can't keep your eyes away from his chest, "Y/N? Dude, do you know what time it is?"

"I'm sorry." You've got to stop apologizing. You need to learn other words than those two phrases, but it's all you can think of when Jonathan stands shirtless in front of you.

Your eyes glisten in their wide state, Jonathan gesturing for you to come in as you struggle to climb inside through the window.

His house is silent. You tumble onto the ground, falling flat on your ass when Jonathan sighs, leaning over you to close his curtains.

"I'm sorry." You apologize again, standing up when Jonathan glances at you. As you take a step forward, your legs move on their own, closing the gap between you and him and pressing another kiss onto his lips.

Your fingers tangle in his hair as you try to ground yourself to anything. When his hands trail around your waist, grabbing you closer to him as his head tilts to the side, deepening the kiss.

Jonathan is the first to pull away for the kiss. His brow resting on yours, his breath fanning against the skin of your cheek.

"Stop apologizing all the time." was all that he had said before kissing you again.

With him taking the lead, you were starting to feel light-headed just like how you felt the day you had kissed him on the hood of his car.

The neediness in the way he had wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer to him like he was afraid you would slip away again.

Your heart is hammering against your chest, feeling his tongue glide into your mouth.

A moan coaxes from your throat as your hand rests against the broad middle of his chest.

The feeling of his cool skin against yours almost sent you into an orbit. Let him guide you backward until you sit against his bed.

"My mom’s in the living room, but Will’s sleeping in the other room, so we can't be loud," Jonathan whispered just inches away from your mouth. You didn't dare to speak, only nodding your head in acknowledgment, your eyes glued onto his mouth as you had craved them.

It was strange feeling so suddenly needy for him, so open with your emotions.

Jonathan smiles, almost like he had known that power he had over you, pushing you down to lie with your back against his mattress, kissing a trail down your neck before crawling on top of you.

His hands adventuring alongside the exposed part of your shirt, getting rid of the cotton shirt as you both make quick work of your pants.

Removing each other's clothes at a very frantic pace, you were both horny teenagers undressing each other for the first time, hands lingering against hot skin and lips swollen from kissing.

You don't know how to feel when Jonathan slides his hands down your body, your hips twitching off of the mattress.

Feeling his wet lips softly drag along the skin just below your belly button, eyeing your boxers as his tongue darts out to lick his lips.

It was truly a sight to behold watching Jonathan eye the outline of your growing erection, staring at it like it was the most interesting thing he had ever seen.

"Do you want to?" He asked, glancing up at you through his lashes. You swore you had just remembered how to breathe.

How to open your mouth and exhale normally, while watching yourself twitch just from the question.

You knew Jonathan felt it too; his eyes pointed down at your groin. He glances at your throbbing issues before returning his attention to you.

"P—please." You were too preoccupied with the growing need you felt in the pit of your stomach to take notice of how needy your voice sounded.

You were desperate for his touch, as you felt dizzy watching Jonathan’s fingers duck under the elastic of your underwear. Your hips arched in response to his cold fingers against your hot length.

You know you have to be quiet, your arm slung over your mouth to muffle the lewd noises that have leaked from it. Your eyes close as your hips move independently, thrusting into his touch.

Jonathan begins to stroke your cock at an almost slow and agonizing pace, cursing under your breath as precum spilled from your tip and coated his hand.

The sounds of your labored breathing and his fingers slickly jerking off your girth ripple outward throughout the dark bedroom.

You couldn’t even look at him without feeling dizzy. The brunette averted his gaze shyly, his face flushed pink as his mouth parted.

"It makes me feel…weird when you watch." What the fuck, what the fuck? Your mind was an orbit of howling, intense hormones.

You were almost convinced you had died and this was your heaven, getting a handjob from the most adorable guy that you had laid your eyes on.

With no one around to see the sinful act that was unfolding, something about how flushed Jonathan looked with him holding your cock made you feel so...discombobulated.

Jonathan just focused on making quick work with his hands, feeling you finally relax against the mattress, your legs hanging off of the edge as he sat on top of your thighs.

The weight was driving your body insane. It hadn’t helped when Jonathan surged forward. His guiding your tip passed through his lips and sat flat against his tongue, rushing all the blood to your dick.

"H–holy fuck." You stifled a grunt, your hips bucking against his mouth, his hands resting down on your hips to stop you from fidgeting.

"Be quiet." Jonathan chuckled like your dick wasn’t in his mouth at the moment, the brunette wrapping his lips over the hilt of your cock.

His tongue poked out of his mouth, inexperienced on how to take your entire length inside without gagging.

You never expected getting sucked off to feel so…good.

Sure, you masturbated like any other old teenager your age, but it was always just you and your hand going at it to the poster on your wall of Arnold Schwarzenegger and his bare muscular chest as the Terminator.

You have the poster taped up just above your headboard along with a row of other movies that you considered to be the pinnacle of film history.

It was a nice cover-up from your family, having posters of male eye candy in the room for other pleasures.

You watched as his lips, glistening spit-covered lips, took you into his mouth deeper, allowing more of your length in his mouth until his nose tickled the bush of your pubic hair.

The feeling of his tongue swirling around the trace of your vein threatened your stability; the feeling of hitting the back of his throat made your toes curl against the carpet and your head leans back.

The sound of his little gag makes you want to live there, having your dick down his throat for the rest of your life.

Your thighs twitched under him, feeling Jonathan grab your balls with his other hand.

He twisted his fingers, unsure what to do with them, before simply fondling them in his hands. It was enough for you, more than enough. Honestly, you have never felt so turned on in your life.

His head bobbing up and down your cock, you didn't know how long you went last at the sight of his puffed-out cheeks and wet lips, just drinking in the sight as time went on, not wanting the moment to end from the overwhelming experience.

Your fingers were threading through his tough, short brunette hair, trying to ground yourself onto anything that you could reach, feeling the heat from your building orgasm creep towards your boiling point.

You haven’t been so turned on in your entire life. The pleasure of having your dick sucked for the first time almost tortures you.

You wondered if Jonathan had felt the same way, wondering if he too was hard under his briefs.

So turned on from sucking your dick that there would be a dark stain of precum along with the material of his underwear.

You weren't able to tell, but the thought alone did something to you, your fingers digging into his scalp, fisting around his hair tighter.

"F—fuck." you whimpered pathetically, Jonathan’s mouth parting from your cock with a string of spit connected to his mouth, your chest caving at the sudden loss of warmth.

"If you’re gonna…do it. Can you do it in my m—mouth?" You could only nod at the lewd request, your body settling once he had engulfed your cock once more, assuming that he just didn't get cum stains all over his bedsheets as he sucked at the head of your tip.

Your teeth sink into your arm to stop yourself from moaning at the top of your lungs as you cum down his throat.

Jonathan manages to swallow everything the second it hits his tongue. you were impressed and, honestly, just more turned on.

Wiping the corners of his mouth with the back of his hand. You sat up, realizing that he had been straddling the entire time.

Your hands were reaching for his hips, and you hesitated before deciding to lean in to kiss him.

"Jonathan?" It was a record-breaking time how fast Jonathan had shot up from your lap, crawling under his blankets as you leaned down to throw yourself to the floor, tumbling under his bed the moment your face had hit the carpet.

The door just opened minutes later as you watched the dim light from the hallway leak into the bedroom, only being able to see Joyce’s shoes as she stood stock still at the doorway.

Jonathan’s soft breathing coaxes his mother into believing that the boy is truly asleep. humming to herself before shutting the bedroom door, making you exhale a held breath.

As quickly as the door shut you and Jonathan had snuck out of the bedroom window, your feet pattering against the dirt as you run for your bike.

Your head turned towards the house, afraid that Joyce would catch you sneaking out of her home at an unruly hour.

Though your worries were settled, you got to the main road and back to your home in one piece.

You'd think you’d be able to cut the kid some slack after giving you the most jaw-dropping, sheet-clenching head that you’ve ever experienced in life, but nope.

It seemed like after the blowjob accident, you were becoming even more distant with Jonathan, continually dodging him in the halls and skipping lunch for a full week.

You didn't know how long you could keep the streak going, biking to and from school every day as an amazing form of exercise, but Hawkin's weather was unpredictable.

Like today, the mornings were high and dry, the sun beaming out enough that you swore you would melt the moment you had stepped foot outside, and then the gray clouds tumbled in, rain soaking your entire outfit as you hurled your bike up the road.

Huffing as your chain had popped the moment you had barreled over a deep puddle that had sent you flying from your bike. The injuries were minor, but your ego had taken a hit.

And it was like your day was planned to get worse. Jonathan spotted you stranded on the side of the road.

Just the sight of his car pulling in next to you made your blood run even colder than the freezing temperature it already was from your clothes being soaked.

You prayed that your face masked the obvious uncomfortableness you felt as your clothes stuck tightly against your skin, a shiver running down your spine as you watched Jonathan’s eyes trace down your figure.

"You wanna ride?" He smirked, his tone hinting at a playful reference to something more sexual.

You popped the trunk of his car, stuffing your bike into his trunk and sliding into the passenger's side, your face flushed as you buckled in.

The car ride continued in uncomfortable silence. Every time Jonathan would gesture, his mouth would open just to close, not really knowing how to break the ice.

A handful of minutes passed before you realized Jonathan was driving in the total opposite direction of your home. Turning into the woods, you recognized the road instantly. He was driving to the quarry.

The moment he had shifted the car into park, Jonathan gripped the wheel with both hands, his head leaning down, a low grunt erupting suddenly as you grimaced from the cold.

Your head turning, you noticed his head tilted, his gaze fixed on you.

"What?" you asked, your tone flat.

Jonathan smirked, not hiding the fact that he was gawking at your mouth. Maybe it was because your face had flushed, making you look so fucking…attractive to him.

"Huh?" he hummed, making a scene of tearing his eyes from the trance your mouth had seemed to put him in.

"You're staring." He didn't even seem to bother with an apology like he wanted you to know that he wanted to kiss you.

"I know, I can't help it." His hands reach out to comb through your wet hair, letting his fingers scrape through your scalp, involuntarily leaning farther into his touch.

It was the type of touch that made you realize how much of an asshole you were for ignoring the only person that seemed to care about your well-being in this shit town, the only person that you were too scared to care about.

The last couple of days, you felt empty, following some pointless routine, turning corners and taking the longer route just to avoid the obvious feelings you had for the boy.

You missed listening to his confusing music talk about bands that you didn't even know existed till then, or the small "concerts" of songs you would play air guitar to as Jonathan belted in his pitchy voice to Will as you drove the younger Byers kid to school.

If your feelings were obvious to you, it didn't take rocket science to know that Jonatan knew that you liked him.

Even when your dick was in his mouth, you were afraid that it was all just some stupid prank, like he was going to pull away at any moment and degrade you for having such feelings for another male.

You just wanted to go back in time and stay, stay in the infinite where you could just be together with Jonathan without all the emotional stuff involved.

You just wanted to be able to kiss him whenever you wanted, do the things you would see Steve do to the hopelessly romantic girls that had fallen for his suave charm. You wanted to be with Jonathan like Steve was with Nancy.

It was like Jonathan had known you were thinking too hard about something, tugging at the collar of your shirt and suddenly leaning you in closer to him.

Your lips parted by reflex as he locked eyes with you, his head slightly tilting like he was waiting for you to run away, waiting for any sign of hesitation.

You couldn't handle it anymore. Your heart was not built strong enough to handle the chase. You decided to make the first move, surging forward and finally breaking the distance between you two.

You never knew Jonathan could be so touchy. The feeling of his fingers combing through your hair and settling a fist into the nape of your neck. The feeling of his palm gliding against your cheek like his fingers were guiding your face into his lips.

It all just felt so good, deepening the kiss, feeling the wet front of your shirt press against his more dry, warm chest.

A low moan vibrated against your mouth as your tongue slid into his mouth.

As if you couldn't be any more turned on, the feeling of his hand wrapping around your neck made your adam's apple bob against his grasp.

You thought it was insane how quickly your body went from freezing cold to smoothing hot in minutes, how quickly Jonathan could turn you into a human heat torch with his simple touch.

Jonathan just knew how to make you feel so relaxed like he knew your body better than you knew yourself.

The way he would coax small whimpers from your mouth, how good his fingers felt trailing under your shirt, how desperate he made you feel leaning as close as you could get without the gear shift digging painfully into your ribs.

You couldn't recall how long you were making out with Jonathan, and honestly couldn't think about anything other than the feeling of his mouth against yours, so time yourself.

The moment he pulled away, there was a damp, wet stain every place you touched him.

He was nearly as wet in your sweater as you were, and his fingers were pruned from playing with your hair. Despite having an advantage in body heat, he was now shivering from the cold.

You were both panting like you had just learned how to breathe for the first time, the sound of his harsh breathing being washed out by the loud thumping drum of rain hitting against the small car.

He looked just like a mess as you were, lips red and swollen from your sloppy excuse for kissing, pupils dilated so wide he almost reminded you of a cat, the way his face was almost a perfect shade of pink, like all the heat from his body had rushed to his face.

"Okay so," He sighed, with a shy smile on his face, his tongue tracing over the bottom of his lip.

"So we’re on kissing terms again, but not talking. I like kissing you… a lot. But I think I would prefer you to actually talk to me a bit more."His hand was stretched out in confusion, yet his smile never flattened.

You felt stuck, your mind trying to regain enough sense to find words and scramble them around to form an actual response.

“I—I don’t, well I don't know what you like, want from me I guess? Like does this make us like…official or what?”

"official," you repeat the words like they had tasted funny? Did you want to be official with Jonathan? The title was so vague in meaning that you didn't even know what it meant.

Did it mean that Jonathan wanted to have a title for whatever you two were doing? Were you even gay?

"...Boyfriends?" You answered, watching him grin over at you while playing with the cuffs of his shirt, and an eyebrow was raised.

"Boyfriends?" Jonathan repeated with a questioning tone, as if he wanted to hear you say it again.

"I want you to be my boyfriend." You spoke softly, afraid that anything could go wrong—

"I kinda want to fuck you really badly right now." oh.

He seemed to enjoy watching you squirm as if he could hear the bolts and springs banging around in your head as your lashes fluttered, your gaze blank, and your mouth hung open agape.

It only took you a few seconds to follow him to the back seat and perch in his lap at an awkward slouching angle.

It was like Jonathan could read you like an open book, kissing you along your neck as you struggled to ruin your wet jeans.

The feeling of his thumbs gently rubbing against the bare skin of your hips as you sat up to straddle him was soothing.

"I don't really know what I'm doing, but I just want you to feel good, okay?" It was a comforting warning, before the pain of his two fingers thrust into your asshole, coating it in a thin layer of his own spit, the burning sensation leaving you whimpering into the curve of his neck.

His other hand helps you hold yourself in the air, lifting your thighs for enough room for his arm to slip under and touch you, his fingers thrusting inside of you at a slow pace, Jonathan listening to the hitch in your breath to control himself as his fingers twist gently fucking your hole.

Your whining and fidgeting made him chuckle. It was weird how quickly the pain had subsided. Your eyes were squeezing shut tight one moment, then you were rocking against his hand the next.

Just getting used to the feeling that was taken away, Jonathan removed his fingers and shifted his hips up to slide down his pants, his cock springing from his briefs, neglected and leaking.

Your forehead rested against his as you slowly lowered yourself onto his tip, not bothering to muffle the slutty whimpers that passed from your mouth and echoed in the car.

Jonathan felt his dick twitch, the ache in his thighs to thrust farther inside of you, the burning need to sink himself deeper inside of you.

But he was a gentleman and let you set your own pace, your arm hooked onto his shoulder, the other fisted against the leather of the backseats.

You slowly sank yourself down onto his erected cock, a content grunt shared between the two of you as your arms wrapped around his neck.

Your thighs shifted up before slamming down a shock of pleasure, leaving you whimpering and mumbling nonsense into his ear.

Jonathan grunted, letting you use his body wholeheartedly.

The position he sat in was comfortable enough for him to chase your thrusts with his hips, having to use most of his strength to help you squat into position.

His hips slammed against yours greedily, the car rocking from the moving weight taking him as far as you could handle inside of your body.

Jonathan fucks his hip into you hard and fast. The hot feeling of his thick girth spreading you open as he fucked into you.

While his fingers wrapped eagerly around your cock, his wrist twisting messily against your cock, struggling to find a rhythm with both things occupying his hands.

You felt everything all at once, your orgasm striking you over the edge. As you spilled all over his hand, your hand fisted into his hair as the other held you upright, gripping onto the back seat.

Your muscles clench around him, your climax rippling against his cock.

"That was really, really hot," Jonathan said with a smirk. You leaned up to place a kiss against your collarbone and another just on your chin.

"But I'm not done." He was kind enough to take a moment for your orgasm to subside.

He allows you to relax once more before moving to lie down with your back against the seats, squeezing himself between your legs, giving you one more kind smile, resting his forehead against yours.

His hand hooked under the bend of your knee and pressed himself against your puckering hole. The moment he started moving inside of you again, you felt so sensitive everywhere, moaning his name like it was a prayer.

Jonathan's sucking hickeys into your neck didn't help one bit. You were moaning under his lips as you leaned your head back, accepting your fate.

Screwing your eyes and grabbing onto his shoulders, Jonathan could barely contain himself from the sight of your scrunched up, pleased face.

Thrusting in roughly, hitting the spot that made your body want to melt against him every time.

"Oh, fu—shit." With his legs trembling and fingers digging into the plush of your hairy thigh, you were suddenly aware of how hot it was in the car, sweat rolling from the hairline and making the skin on your back stick to the leather of the seats.

You had no choice but to ignore it at the moment, getting your guts literally arranged, biting your lip and curling against the cramp forming in your thigh.

The slight discomfort was just the price you were willing to pay. It was already forgotten the moment Jonathan had gripped your length that had been slapping against his chest.

stroking you through his thrust, your back arching up into him as his muscles tensed, his entire weight suddenly shifting to lie on top of you as he was quick with his hands, pulling out of you and climaxing loudly against your chest. You didn't know how much you had in you, or if it was humanly possible to cum so much.

Your orgasm is unrolling before you can even realize what's happening. Your second orgasm is already in full swing.

His long, slender fingers were trembling as he pressed soft kisses against your lips, the moment becoming more intimate as you wrapped your arms around him and held him close while you felt his cock softened and pressed against your stomach.

You rested in each other's arms for a calm moment, the sound of rain painting chorusing together with the sounds of each other breathing.

"Kinda disappointed I couldn't make you my personal twinkie." Jonathan teased, pressing his face into your chest, enjoying being wrapped around so close to you, even being covered in each other's sweat and cum. It was a loving moment that you too enjoyed.

Humming in agreement, not to the twinkie part, but to the fact that you two were content with the sex, closing your eyes and taking in the moment.

As much as you wished to fall asleep with Jonathan in your arms, you knew Joyce would freak out not seeing her son home after school without a word, warning to spare the single mother's heart attack of thinking her child went missing.

"Come on, we gotta get dressed." You whispered, your thighs wrapping around his torso and squeezing around him in a playful manner, which only made him whine and curl closer against your chest.

"No, I wanna die here, just like this."

"What if I told you we could go to my place and shower together if no one's home?" The bribe was enough for him to lift his head up and look at you. His face was still flushed as he smiled dreamily.

"Well, how am I supposed to say no to that?"

Bonus: Steve finds out.

It was a mistake to ever invite Jonathan over to your place. You had almost been dating the guy for a year and every single second he had alone with you left you sore in places that you couldn't even explain with your face flushing.

Being a gay couple during the 90s didn't help, and neither did living in a small rural town full of close-minded people afraid of change.

Any moment that was away from the public was a break away from everyone else's eyes. Being openly affectionate wasn't something you could do around Hawkins.

It was just the risk you two lovers took, and with your parents out of town most of the time, it wasn't a problem.

Being able to make out in the room in the house whenever Steve was away without being bothered.

It was all good, until the times that you wanted to hang out with Jonathan. Sometimes having to beat the boy away with a stick (metaphorically).

"I r—really have to finish, ah." You struggled against Jonathan's lips, his mouth latched onto your collarbones, nuzzling his head into your neck.

The brunette hummed against your skin, his fingers trailing up your thigh and squeezing your already growing erection.

It was like he had a bullseye target telling him the status of your dick at any given time.

"You're doing a lot of complaining for someone that's about to get their dick sucked." He mumbled, trailing soft kisses along your shoulder, a hiss escaping your mouth the second his teeth teasingly sank into your skin.

Jonathan apologized with his tongue dragging along the abused spot, sucking splotchy red marks into your skin until he was satisfied.

You knew it would be a mistake to invite your boyfriend over to study, with your household empty, your parents on a work trip, and Steve was gone hanging out with friends after school.

You were supposed to have your nose tucked away in the study packet you had for your science test, hoping that with the passing grade Jonathan had he would help you, but instead he was crawling into your lap, marking bruises all over your body.

You sighed, dropping your pencil when Jonathan took your face in his hands, tilting your chin up to peck you on the lips.

"Is this what it's like to have a boyfriend? I’m just your personal sex toy every day of the week until you suck me dry?" Your hands are grabbing at his loose hips, halting him from grinding against you but not putting much of a fight against the sudden display of neediness from your partner.

"Maybe!" Jonathan hummed, latching his mouth against the skin of your neck once more.

You exhaled a chuckle, your hands swirling alongside his hips, your thoughts starting to blank in the way Jonathan's hips rubbed against your own, the boy having so much control over you it was starting to be concerning.

"Jonathan," you moan, tilting your head back as one of his hands wraps around your neck. His hips grind down on you with even more pressure.

Just as you reached down to undo his belt, a shout of surprise broke your two apart. "What the fuck!" Steve screamed, his brows furrowed as he stood stock-still in the doorway of the family living room.

The room fell silent, only the sound of your heart hammering against your chest as Steve stared at the two of you with wide eyes.

"What are you doing here?" Jonathan asked, his tone careful as he peeled himself away from your touch, still sitting in your lap, feeling your erection pressing into his thigh. He knew that the last thing you wanted was for your brother to see your boner.

"What? What am I doing here? What are you doing here? On top of my brother?"

"Oh God, were you two about to have sex? What the fuck, what if dad came home early or if mom saw you?" You grimaced at the thought, your head leaning into Jonathan's chest to cover your face from the embarrassing situation, wanting nothing more than to crawl into a hole and stay there at least until your erection went away.

"I mean, what the hell, when did you two even start hooking up? When did you become…gay?" Steve asked, his voice just laced with confusion, raising an octave with every question.

Jonathan sighed, crawling out of your lap and replacing his presence with a couch pillow. While you lift your head, fingers interlaced with his, knowing that the tender look that Jonathan gave you was meant for comfort.

You struggled to find your voice, not even wanting to share this part of your life with your family. You never expected it to come out this way. "So, we've been dating—"

"Wait, you're dating? Like, this is a whole… thing?" gesturing towards you two, you flinched as Jonathan grunted in annoyance at his tempting already running thin, seeing how uncomfortable you were.

He knew that it had to happen one day, the day that your family, his family, his friends, and all of Hawkins knew about the relationship that you two had.

"Steve," Jonathan barged in, firmly squeezing your hand. "Yes, we’re dating. We've been dating for almost a year now, and honestly, it's been a pretty good fucking year. I'm sure Y/N was going to tell you at some point. It's just that we love each other and want to do anything to keep our relationship that way. "

"You’re in love?" Steve mumbled, staring at his twin brother with a tinge of jealousy passing through his emotions before he settled with just being happy for you.

"Well...then I'm happy for you."

[ ❥ ] taglist. @weasleytwinscumslut @lluvin @bucky-daddy-barnes @sh3lov3dyou @loveshineslikethesky @willowwonka @vxid42 @spenglerslime @imahoforthings @eichenhouseproperty @bbymochi1 @ang3l1te @andineverwould @jonathansmalewife @wooooweee

tap here to be added to taglist.

1K notes · View notes

mayumiiyuu · 2 years ago

Note

out of my league - fitz and the tantrums with jonathan byers please !!

j. byers || out of my league

Jonathan Byers had never met anyone that absolutely embodied the word ‘ethereal’ until he had met you.

He was absolutely mesmerized by you, the graceful way in which you carried yourself, your dainty, dreamy disposition, and the otherworldly look in your eyes as you stared out of the window while you daydreamed during class.

He couldn't believe his own senses when you approached him after class in order to ask him about his photography. The way you smiled at him turned his legs to jelly, his usual well-articulated mind into a stuttering, stammering mess.

You sat with him at lunch that day, every time you leaned towards him he could catch a whiff of your powdery, floral perfume which caused his face to flush a bright red.

Mystified and curious about the quiet boy who sat at the back of your math class, you had decided that you would talk to him, really get to know him.

And you were glad you did.

Despite his reserved demeanor in class, he turned out to be one of the best people you could have ever met. He took all your words to heart, truly listened to you whenever you spoke. It was refreshing to you, in all honesty; usually, guys would just smoothtalk their way towards you, never actually intent on getting to know you, the real you.

But Jonathan was earnest and genuine and sincere, in everything that he did, which you appreciated greatly.

The more time you spent with him, the more your heart seemed to flutter whenever he was around. He was always there for you to talk to, whether you spoke to him in the most exciting, animated way when you had a good day, or even when you lamented and complained to him about your sexist teachers and disappointments when you had a bad day.

Through thick and thin, Jonathan was at your side.

Would it honestly be all that crazy of an idea that you had fallen for him?

You had started to make your feelings towards him quite obvious, ditching your more popular, well known friends in favor of his own company, which was leagues better than your vain 'friends' who only ever gossiped and talk bad about anybody who didn't meet their impossible standards.

You took whatever free time you had to spend time with him, asking him all sorts of questions that you knew would spark his interest whenever you two would hang around his house. You loved spending quality time with him and his brother, Will, as well, silently commending Joyce for her parenting, having raised two sweet boys all on her own.

Still, Jonathan couldn't push down all his insecurities. He was what the popular called a 'weird kid' all because he preferred being on his own, convincing himself that you were way out of his league, too good to ever be seen with someone as the likes of him.

Your family was well off, lived in a pristine, two story house in the nicer part of town. Your sunny disposition would make Apollo himself fall to your feet in praise as you let out a laugh.

But you reassured him each time that you wanted to be with him because you like him, wholly and truly, which always brought a smile to his face.

After months of you hinting at your romantic feelings for him, being more affectionate towards him and showering him with compliments, he had finally mustered all the courage within himself to formally ask you out on a date, to which you responded happily to.

You were currently sitting at your vanity, carefully styling your hair for your date, your stomach did flips in excitement while you prepared. Smoothening out your outfit, you smiled at your reflection, unable to contain the butterflies that surged through your system.

"(y/n), darling, your date is here!" Came the loving voice of your mother as she called you from beneath the staircase.

You rushed down, fixing your hair one last time as your mother smiled at you, giving you a small wink as she wished you luck before you waved her goodbye while you walked out the door.

Jonathan silently thanked whatever god there was up there for giving him a ribcage to prevent his heart from completely leaping out from his chest as he caught sight of you. He felt his hands tremble nervously as you stood before him.

"Hi, Jonathan."

The way you say his name was no match for whatever melody any talented composer on this world could ever craft, sending his heart into oblivion with the rate it sped whenever you'd even speak to him.

You gave him a small, shy, smile as you reached your hand out to hold his.

"You look absolutely beautiful." He breathed out.

You chuckle lightly as you two make your way to his car. "So where are we going?"

Ever the gentleman, he opens the passenger door for you and you slip in.

"It's a surprise." Was all he said as the two of you buckled your seatbelts.

In truth, you didn't care where you two went or what you did, so long as you were with him, every moment would be worth it.

...

You two had just eaten some of the most sumptuous food at a local diner Jonathan used to go to every weekend with his family, the fact that he had brought you to a place that had somewhat of a significance in his life made your heart melt.

Presently, the two of you were walking on a tree lined pathway at a park, the spring winds had caused the flowering trees to spread about their blossoms, creating a fairytale-like atmosphere around the two of you.

Everything felt right in the world with your fingers intertwined with his own warm hands.

You had just thrown your head back in laughter as Jonathan told you about a funny encounter he had that day just before he had picked you up, before you spotted you quote on quote 'friends' hanging out on one of the benches.

As soon as they catch sight of you, you silently hardened your resolve in preparation for their teasing.

"Hey, (y/n)!" One of them calls out.

At the sound of your name being called, Jonathan looks up, only for his gaze to fall back down as they had ushered you over with a wave of their hand.

You glance at him to make sure he was okay, only for him to smile and nod his head towards you.

"It's alright, go, they're calling you."

Your lips form a tight smile before you unlace your hand from his, immediately missing his touch as you walked over to your friends.

"Hi." you greeted curtly.

One of them, a guy, glances at Johnathan before snorting.

"Are you seriously on a date or something with Byers, over there?"

You frown, furrowing your eyebrows as you crossed your arms.

"So what if I am?"

Another one of your friends scoffs, rolling her eyes.

"Come on, (y/n), you could do so much better."

Jonathan winces inwardly at those words, shuffling his feet as thoughts swirl in his head. They were right, what were you doing with him?

"Yeah, come on, hang out with us, (nickname), ditch that loser already."

"If you keep leading him on like that, he'll follow you like a little puppy for the rest of your life." Another friend adds.

One of your guy friends, Reed, wraps an arm around you, leading you closer to them. You tense at his touch, glancing behind you as Jonathan kicked the dirt, waiting and wishing for all of this to be over.

"Come on, (y/n), baby, why don't you let me take you on a date instead, huh? Bet I'd be a lot better company than that freak."

Your face flushes with anger at his statement, shrugging his arm off your shoulders harshly.

"Don't ever fucking call him that!" You seethe, glaring at the group.

Reed puts his hands up in surrender. "I was just joking, geez, (y/n), lighten up!" He chuckles, nervously, the entire group taken aback by your sudden outburst and profanity.

"You know what, can you all, just once in your lives get your heads out of your asses and be decent people for once? I'll date whoever the hell I want to date, my love life is none of your business." You spat, poison dripping off your tongue with each word that spilled from your mouth.

Their jaws hung open before another one of your former friends, a girl, spoke.

"Wow, who knew you could be such a bitch?"

"Not as much of a bitch as you," You snap, scowling at her. "Fuck off, all of you, and don't you dare for a second think I won't leak any of the shit you've said to me if you ever so much as look at Jonathan badly."

With that, you stomped back towards your date, whos eyes were wide with surprise with how fiercely you had defended him. You grab him by the hand, leading him far away from your asshole friends, muttering curses under your breath.

"Are you alright?" He asks, concern lacing his words.

You close your eyes, taking in a deep breath in an attempt to cool down your blood that had boiled angrily in that past moment. He rubs his thumb against the back of your hand, soothing you. As soon as you open your eyes only to see Johnathan's warm ones staring back at you, all the rage from earlier melts away.

You smile at him, genuinely. "I'm okay now, so long as I'm with you."

He gives you a soft smile as he snakes his arm around your waist.

"Good."

you lean into his touch, resting your head on his shoulder as you two continue to stroll across the park. He unwraps himself from you for a moment as you two reach a small patch of grass dotted with wild flowers. You shoot him a questioning look.

"Don't worry, I'm just going to go get something."

He walks towards a certain patch of flowers, carefully selecting the brightest, prettiest ones that reminded him of you. Soon, he had returned to you with a bouquet made of an assortment of various kinds of wildflowers; from the white, delicate petals of daisies to the warm colored petals of daylilies.

You smile so wide you swear it made your cheeks ache, your heart swelled with admiration as he handed the bouquet to you.

"I didn't have time to get you roses so I-I thought that I'd still get you some, they're not the best but--"

You cut off his rambling with a kiss to his cheek, fingers softly playing with the vibrant petals.

"It's perfect." You say, voice barely above a whisper as you admired the flowers he had given you.

His cheeks dust with pink at your action, taking your hand in his once more.

"You know, I didn't expect for you to even say yes when I asked you out." He confessed.

You bump his shoulder with yours. "Why would you ever think that?"

"Because," He starts, shrugging as if the answer was clear as day. "You're kind of, um, way out of my league."

You roll your eyes playfully at him, bringing his hand to your lips as you kiss his knuckles.

"Well, it's about time you get that thought out of your head."

And in that moment, with you at his side, all his fears, all the thoughts filled with his insecurities that swirled in his head, the voice that told him he wasn't good enough for you, quieted down.

He relished in the way you held his had, the giggles that erupted from your throat as you recounted all the things you said to your former 'friends', and all he could do was admire you as the sunlight bathed your features in gold.

Out of his league or not, all he knew that he was falling, quicker, deeper, than he could have ever imagined.

#stranger things season 4 #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #jonathan byers #jonathan byers x reader #jonathan byers x you #jonathan byers x yn #jonathan byers fic #jonathan byers stranger things

270 notes · View notes

edelweiss-coffee · 2 years ago

Text

do any of y’all want more jonathan fics becos i’m in love with this man and would like to write more about him :-)

#jonathan x reader #jonathan byers fanfiction #jonathan byers x reader #jonathan byers x yn

40 notes · View notes

peculiarpatches · 4 years ago

Photo

here’s a meme i made because i’m bored. also because i’m writing a jonathan byers fanfic. jonathan and charlie both deserve better. i said what i said.

#charlie heaton #jonathan byers #jonathan byers fanfic #jonathan byers x reader #jonathan byers x femreader #charlie heaton imagines #charlie heaton one shot #charlie heaton fanfic #charlie heaton fanfiction #jonathan byers x yn #jonathan byers stories #stranger things x reader #stranger things x yn #stranger things fanfic #stranger things x femreader #stranger things oneshot

159 notes · View notes

bi-disaster-yn · 2 years ago

Text

Ride

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x fem!Reader

Summary: Billy is on his way to make it up to you after an argument but something dark is waiting for him along the way. (Based on Ride by Lana Del Ray).

A/N: Billy owns this song and Born to Die, Lana told me so herself !!!! Honestly poured my soul into this and broke my own heart along the way so apologies for all the angst coming your way.

I've been out on that open road You can be my full time, daddy, white and gold Singing blues has been getting old You can be my full time, baby, hot or cold

“That’s right, ya piece of shit, run away when things just get that little bit too tough for ya!” Neil hurled at Billy as he scampered out of the house, desperately fumbling his car keys in his hands. Billy’s heart was beating so hard and fast that he feared it was going to break through his ribs and rip his chest open.

“I’m coming, baby,” He mumbled over and over like a prayer, finally finding enough control over his actions to unlock the car and get in the driver’s seat. “I’m coming.”

You fidgeted in your room, waiting for him. The window lay open which permitted entry to the cold air and it engulfed you in an empty embrace, making the wait more agonising. The dark sky dotted with a few stars and the obscured figures of trees should have been the background to your Billy climbing in through the window. Instead, it was a bleak void of nothingness. You stared at the window, willing him to come to you.

Any minute, you reasoned with yourself. Any minute now, he’ll be here.

Billy slammed his foot on the gas pedal, the tape of his last drive blaring through the speakers in a deafening attack. He quickly turned the music off, needing the silence to think. It was only 20 minutes to your house if he took a shortcut down the long road on the outskirts rather than driving through town.

“I’m coming, baby. Don’t worry, I’m coming.”

He’d promised you that day at the pool that he’d come and see you that night. You just needed to give him a chance to make it up to you after the explosive argument you’d had a few days prior. He was going to prove it to you that he was better than that and he could be better, for you.

“Leave your window open, please. I’ll be there.” Billy had pleaded with you. As much as you felt like you should have pushed him away, there was something about the way his eyes turned glassy and how his face scrunched up in despair. You couldn’t deny him when he looked at you like that.

Now, you fixated on your open window and braced the chill, waiting for him to come and make his case.

Billy hadn’t registered anything his dad had yelled at him but instead frantically reviewed his options for an escape plan. Once he’d settled on a way out, he’d pushed past his dad and out the door. A vase followed after him and ricocheted off his back, falling to the ground where it shattered.

It hurt like hell but Billy didn’t care. It was temporary. If he didn’t get to you and make things right, he might as well descend into the fiery pits and accept his fate as a lost soul.

Don't break me down

I've been travelin' too long I've been trying too hard

Billy anxiously shuffled in his seat, almost embarrassed to look at himself in the rear-view mirror. He tapped his thumb off the steering wheel and swallowed thickly, toying with the idea that this might have all been in vain. You didn’t actually owe him anything. You were entitled to listen to what he had to say and then kick him out, telling him you never wanted to see him again.

He shook his head violently, as if to banish the very thought. It wasn’t over until it was over.

Clearing his throat, he decided to work on what he was going to say to win you back but inspiration failed him. Every word, sentence or paragraph that came into his head simply wasn’t good enough. It didn’t convey how he had spent the last few days after the argument wallowing in self-pity and how he had hated himself for raising his voice to you. He was only too aware of how threatened and small he felt when his dad shouted at him. The idea that he’d made you feel like that was too much to bear.

“Hey baby, remember that time we went to the beach.” Billy said aloud in his own little rehearsal. “You hired me a surfboard and you watched me.” He smiled to himself thinking of the memory that he had held so dear.

“I hadn’t done it in a while, so I kept falling over. But you just smiled and told me to get back up again. You didn’t rush me or tell me that anyone was gonna be mad if I took any longer. You gave me all the time in the world.”

It had been the first time in too long that when Billy didn’t get something right first time, no one had berated him for it. There was no Neil tutting and sighing at him, causing dread to settle at the pit of his stomach. There was no teacher giving him a disappointed frown or looking at him like he was hopeless. Even better, he didn’t feel the need to be self-deprecating or insist that he should have been better.

When he fell off that surfboard, he was met with your kind smile and encouragement. “It’s okay, honey, try again.”

You had taken his aviator sunglasses off of him and tried them on for yourself, flashing him a cheeky grin, which had made him bashful. His cheeks hurt where he couldn’t resist the smile that stretched across his face as he looked at you; in the warm glow of golden hour, wearing his sunglasses and watching him surf. Either he’d swallowed too much saltwater or God herself was really standing before him and giving him the time of day.

“I like these a bit too much, babe, might not give you them back.” You chuckled.

“Keep ‘em. They look better on you.”

Billy sighed to his empty car and prayed that you would forgive him. “I’m sorry, baby. I should have been more patient with you, the way you were with me that day.”

I hear the birds on the summer breeze

I drive fast I am alone at midnight

The drive was excruciating. Whilst he had reasoned with himself that it would only be 20 minutes and the roads were clear, it still seemed to take an age. He hated the idea of you waiting for him, wondering to yourself if he had changed his mind.

Putting his foot to the floor, he sent out a mental appeal in hopes that you would be able to read his mind and know that he was coming.

Despite his attempts to transmit a message through an invisible signal, you still sat staring out into the bleak night sky, oblivious as to where he was. A quick glance at your watch told you it was close to midnight, nearly an hour gone from when Billy was meant to have arrived.

You couldn’t help the bouncing of your leg or the involuntary scratching of your arm. Images of Billy’s desperate face revolved round your mind, taunting you with the possibility that you had been taken for a fool. As much as you tried to shake them off; the inevitable questions of ‘what if he has changed his mind’ took a hold of your shoulders and shook you forcibly. You couldn’t fend them off with logic or reason.

Chewing your thumbnail, you looked down at the acceptance letters on your nightstand. One for Yale and one for UCLA. If tonight had went the way you had planned then you would be confirming your place at UCLA and you would be Billy’s ticket back to California. You would study and he would find a job. He could go to the beach whenever he wanted and inhale the fresh sea air. He hated the stench of Hawkins and craved the safety and warmth of the Californian sun. You wanted to take him away from this horrible place and his pathetic excuse of a father.

The possibility of a fight with Neil as an explanation for his lateness had occurred to you but it was quickly written off. After every fight with his dad, he would always find a way to sneak out and come to your house. You’d treat any cuts or bruises that he had and then take him in your arms, kissing the crown of his head until he fell asleep with tears running down his face.

Always, he found a way back to you after a fight. If he didn’t come, it was because he had chosen not to.

Been tryin' hard not to get into trouble, but I I've got a war in my mind So, I just ride Just ride, I just ride, I just ride

If he could just get to end of this country road, then it would be just be a few quick turns and he would have reached you. He was on the home straight.

That was until something came smashing through the windscreen, causing Billy to panic and swerve off the road. His body jolted to the side and he smacked his head off the window.

Grunting and blinking, he looked up and assessed the damage of his car. “Piece of shit.” He muttered repeatedly, hitting his hand off the dashboard. A sharp pain permeated through his skull and when he put his fingertips to his forehead, he could feel the blood of a fresh wound.

“Dammit.” He groaned, this time assaulting the steering wheel. He opened the door and clambered out of the car, circling round it and assessing the irreparable damage that had been caused.

At this point he was flustered and frustrated, violently kicking the car and chanting “piece of shit” at it despite how unproductive that was. This further setback on his way to you was eating away him angrily and he looked up at the sky, wishing there was some way he could get a message to you.

“I am still coming. Please, just hang on for me, okay?”

The engine had been damaged in the crash and smoke danced in the air around the bonnet. Billy walked round to inspect the damage and attempt to formulate a plan when he noticed something peculiar in the cracks where the windscreen had been smashed. He dabbed his fingers on the substance and analysed the disgusting mucus texture as it stretched when he flexed his hands.

“What the hell?” He whispered.

Suddenly, he felt the presence of something or someone scatter behind him and a new type of anxiety took purchase in his body. He swung round in hopes to catch the sneaky creature out, puffing his chest out with all his might in hopes of intimidating the poor bastard who dared try to scare him.

“Who’s there?!” He shouted into the darkness, taking uncertain steps forward and darting his eyes round like a hawk. “Hey! I said who’s there?!”

That’s when an unknown source wrapped round his ankle, dragging him to the ground and pulling him backwards into the abandoned building behind him. Billy screamed and yelled so loudly his voice grew hoarse, only there was no one around to hear him and come to his aid.

Amongst being dragged along the floor he manged to hold on to an archway and desperately tried to pull his ankle back from his captor. He remembered the time he’d rented The Shining for you both to watch and how you teased him – not for being scared but rather for pretending he wasn’t. He had protested all night that he wasn’t scared but any sudden movement had him flinching.

“Baby, just admit it! You’re terrified!” You had roared in laughter as he audibly gasped at the scene where Jack Nicholson launched his head through the door.

“I am not!” He grumbled back at you but still held on to you that little bit tighter. Just for good measure.

He wished you could see him now and that you would come and save him from this horrifying monster. He would admit to you until he was blue in the face that he was scared, just as long as you were there to protect him from whatever it was this creature had planned for him. If you could find your way to this archway, saintlike and strong, you’d be able to free him from this.

But you never came and it didn’t take long for the monster to overpower Billy. His hands slipped from the archway, pulling him downwards into the lair of the Mind Flayer.

Don’t leave me now

Don't say goodbye Don't turn around Leave me high and dry

By 2 a.m. you’d given up on any notion that Billy was coming that night. A bloodcurdling rage caused you to swing your window shut with a slam, locking it so that the monster, Billy Hargrove couldn’t get to you. Tears of frustration streamed down your puffy cheeks as you planted your palms on your dresser and with one furious sweep, threw everything to the floor.

Everything came to a crash in a pointless mess. Items collided with each other mid-air and then scattered apart on the floor, much like your hurt, sadness and exasperation.

Billy’s sunglasses lay amongst the rubble, staring back at your panting and bitter frame. Squeezing your eyes shut and putting your hands to your head, you tried to fight the tears off but it just inspired more to fall.

You remembered when Billy had driven you out to a lake in the woods on a hot summer day. He had found a tyre swing which you had gladly got on as he pushed you. The two of you laughed like children and as you were pushed further and further into the air on the swing you felt an eternal sense of youth. It was as though nothing could ever be bad after this. You and Billy had found your own slice of heaven.

The rain crudely interrupted your carefree day and it wasn’t long until it came crashing down in an aggressive downpour. Still giggling like kids, Billy tugged your hand back to the car as you made a pointless attempt to shield yourselves from the rain with your arms.

Once safe in the car, both of you looked at each other and erupted into more giggles. Billy’s hair was soaked and plastered to his face. His sunglasses that you were sporting were dotted with water droplets and steamed up, impairing your vision. He smirked and pulled them off your face.

It was like looking into the face of an angel. The laughter stopped and his lips parted slightly, gently caressing your soft and wet cheek with his thumb. He swallowed thickly, taking in the celestial being before him and respected your divinity by giving you a look of upmost adoration.

“What?” You had chuckled at Billy’s sudden intensity.

“I just fucking love you.” He answered with a whisper, staring at your lips.

“I love you too.”

Both of his hands had found their way to your cheeks, pulling you in softly and kissing you intently. Your hands tangled in his damp hair and tugged a little, causing him to whine and deepen the kiss. The rain outside battered against the car like an attack but you both were safe inside, sheltered against the brutal weather together.

When you pulled back, your foreheads met and you both caught your breath back. His thumb returned to your cheek and continued its worshipping caress along your cheekbone. You stared into his eyes knowing it would make him sheepish. Your success was confirmed as he dipped his head to avert your gaze and he chuckled to himself.

“Me and you are forever. I’ll never leave you.” He had said and put his sunglasses back on your lap. It was a promise he’d fully intended to keep.

Without any evidence to the contrary, all you’d been left with was an evening wasted watching the window and his sunglasses that lay on your floor taunting you. You lifted your leg up and brought it down with an extreme force, which split the glasses in half between the lenses and made a sickening crack sound.

You flopped helplessly to the floor at the side of your bed. Your body shook with violent sobs and you hauled your knees close to your chest. Convulsing physically, emotionally and mentally; you had wondered how the Billy who had once looked at you like you were God could now make you feel this weak and unwanted.

I'm tired of feeling like I'm fucking crazy I'm tired of driving 'til I see stars in my eyes All I've got to keep myself sane, baby So I just ride, I just ride

Unbeknownst to him how, Billy managed to pull himself away from the monster the second he was given an ounce of leeway. He clumsily tripped over and pulled himself back up again, running with as much force as his large limbs would allow.

He frantically got into his car and sped off in the opposite direction of your house, plagued with the disturbing visions of what had just happened to him. He drove with a different type of desperation than before as the terror sunk in deeper and deeper, taking a hold of his lungs and making him gasp for air.

On the side of the road, he spotted a lit up telephone box like an oasis in the desert. Surely, he would be able to procure himself some safety if he’d be able to just alert someone to the dreadful events he’d just endured.

Billy stopped the car and charged towards the box, grabbing the phone from its hook and dialling in the numbers with incredible urgency.

The only sound he could hear when he pressed the phone to his ear was his own ragged breathing and the banal ringing. When the voice asked “911, what’s your emergency?”, Billy couldn’t help but relive his trauma from mere moments ago.

He’d been dragged down into a basement full of squeaking rats. He had suffered a large tentacle spreading across his face and suctioning on his life source. Despite Billy’s shrieking and flailing, the monster only stopped when it had taken from him what it wanted and replaced in him the tools that it needed for its grand purpose.

Billy came to the horrifying realisation that no one was going to believe him and slowly dropped the phone. The lights in the box above him flickered, ready for his next round of torment.

He emerged from the telephone box into a Hawkins that was dark and unruly. Dust mites swirled round in the air and a deep fog settled over what was once a clear night sky. Thunder crashed and red lightning danced, creating a source of light that had been deprived from the streetlights.

Billy stumbled forwards, coming across a group of people making his way towards him. He asked them with distrust and fear in his voice; “what do you want?”

When they didn’t answer, he mustered up as much confidence as he could and demanded; “hey, I said what do you want?!”

He continued to head towards them, determined to understand this mob and their intentions. After his ordeal, he was struggling with what resolve he had left to defend himself.

Meeting him halfway was an exact replica of himself, only without the gore and dirt on his body that Billy had from the monster attack. A clean and fresh version stared back at him like a reflection. It made his heart drop to the pit of his stomach.

“What do you want?!” Billy asked again, agonised over the silence and the unknown.

“To build.” His doppelganger responded in a voice that wasn’t his. “I want you to build.”

“To build what?”

“What you see.”

“I don’t understand.” Billy said but was transported back to the Hawkins he knew. The open road stretched out in front of him with no mob in sight. The streetlights were switched back on; the thunder and lightning stopped. He was alone.

“I don’t understand!” He yelled again yet made his way back to his car.

Billy started to drive with a new divine purpose. With no specified destination, he drove down the open and empty road, trying to understand and piece together what his mission was to be for his new God.

A tiny piece of him tried to scream that there was a reason he’d gotten into his car that night and that she was now sobbing into her pillow, willing herself to try and sleep so that she might escape the pain of rejection. This voice was quickly silenced by Billy’s new sacred assignment, which was about to take priority over anything else.

Billy continued his journey, driving miles away from the direction of your house, and from you.

I've got a war in my mind I just ride Just ride, I just ride, I just ride

#Spotify #billy stranger things #billy hargove x reader #billy hargrove #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #Billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove one shot #Billy hargrove imagine #Billy hargrove x female reader #Billy hargrove x fem!reader #billy hargrove x you #Billy hargrove x yn #Nancy wheeler #Steve harrington #Eddie munson #Jonathan Byers #song fanfic #Billy hargrove angst

764 notes · View notes

biggestsimponhere · 2 years ago

Note

Can you do 26 on the regular prompts and 6 on the smut prompts for Stonathan x reader? Please and thank you

Sometimes friends just isn’t enough - Stonathan x reader

WARNING ⚠️- SMUT, daddy kink, sir kink, oral sex (both f and m receiving), unprotected p in v (WRAP IT BEFORE YOU TAP IT PLEASE), vaginal fingering, slight breeding kink, mommy kink. All three of them are consenting adults, this is much longer than I expected. BTW: they have clothes at Steve’s because they all often stay at Steve’s house

It was nearing the end of your group hangout as the kids left with Nancy and Robin, Eddie taking half the kids and nance and Robin taking the other half. Leaving just you, Steve and Jonathan at Steves house. You start picking up trash and cups as Jonathan suggest’s pulling out the alcohol. Steve of course quickly agreed with Jonathan and also told you to stop cleaning, which you promptly ignored and continued what you were doing.

“Are they coming back later?” You ask as you move some cups into the kitchen. “No I think nance and Robin said they were going home after dropping the kids and Eddie said he had a deal to do” Steve said taking the cups from your hands.

“Oh, so it’s just us tonight then?” You ask moving to sit down. “Yup” Jonathan said popping the p. “Steve do you need helping doing the dishes” you ask suddenly feeling a little stressed that you were left with your two long term crushes. “Nope sweetheart, I told you, you don’t have to clean” he replied over the running water. Sweetheart. Something about being called a pet name by one of the loves of your life making you blush. “You okay y/n/n? You’re looking a little red” Jonathan asked as he came and sat next to you. He passed you a glass of whatever alcohol was mixed into the leftover pop.

“I’m fine Jon, it’s just hot in here” you replied shifting in your seat a little. “You’ve got something under that sweater right?” You nodded, “take it off then” he replied turning toward you instead of the kitchen.

“Jonathan I only have a bra on” you replied shaking your head. “Go ahead, we don’t mind” Steve called from the kitchen. You turned to look at Jonathan who just nodded his head at Steve’s statement. “Alright then” you replied pulling the sweater over your head. Now your bra was in full view. It was new, you bought it the other day with Robin. It’s light pink and has lace flowers on it. When you caught Jonathan staring you blushed and looked away. You heard something hit the counter in the kitchen and looked up to realize Steve was also staring at you. Once Steve finished the dishes he moved to sit on the opposite side of you than Jonathan was.

“Are we gonna drink now or what?” You asked sipping your drink. They both nodded and drank their cups. After about five cups you were all pretty drunk. “Geez Steve, what alcohol even wassss that?” You slurred, leaning into his shoulder. “I don’t know but it’s pretty strong” he laughed, the motion shaking you too.

“I wanna climb something” Steve said jumping up. “Climb what Stevie? There’s nothing to climb in here” you said jumping up too albeit a little less gracefully then Steve. Jonathan stood up after you so you leaned onto him for support. “Actually there is, there’s a treehouse in the backyard” he shouted as he ran out of the house through the patio door. “Steve, oh my god!” Jonathan shouted after him. You both ran outside just in time to see Steve fall off the third rung of the ladder and onto his back. “God Stevie are you okay?” You yelled as you ran to him. Once you stopped by his side you kneeled down next to him.

Jonathan quickly followed you and kneeled on Steve’s other side, “Being friends with you is like being friends with a five year old” he paused before he continued, “… who drinks” Steve must have found that hysterical cause he burst out laughing.

“Steven” you chided, “let’s get you inside” you said pulling him up and wrapping your arms around his shoulder. You started walking and then noticed Jonathan wasn’t following. “Jon, a little help here?” You called back so Jonathan quickly ran to grab Steve’s other side. You both took him inside and all but carried him up to his bedroom. “Steve, you’re bleeding” Jonathan said, pointing out the cut on his forehead. You left into Steve’s bathroom and searched underneath his sink for the first aid kit. Once you found it you walked back to Steve and tilted his chin up. You pulled out the wipes to clean his cut and quickly cleaned it before sticking a bandage on it. You didn’t realize how touchy Steve was being until you tried to pull away, but couldn’t due to Steve’s hands on your waist.

“Don’t leave, please” he said leaning his head onto your stomach. “I won’t leave, I just need to put the kit away” you said running your fingers through his hair. “Be quick” he requested as you left to the bathroom. As asked of you, you quickly put the kit away and moved back in front of Steve.

He laid his head back on your stomach so you returned to running your fingers through his hair. You were so focused on Steve that you didn’t realize Jonathan was staring at you again. You looked down and quickly remembered you still weren’t wearing a shirt. “You having a nice time with your crushes face on your bare skin?” Jonathan asked from behind Steve. “Jonathan!” You basically yelled as he smirked. “What? It’s not like we don’t see it. Steve knows too, he’s just pretending like he doesn’t cause he wants you to keep holding him” Jonathan replied cockily. “God! I can’t stand you” you shouted into the large space of Steve’s room. You felt Steve laugh on your stomach before Jonathan replied.

“Then sit on my face” He replied while smirking. You felt your heart pounding against your chest. “Y-you don’t mean that” you replied nervously. “Oh but he does sweetheart” Steve said, finally moving off your stomach.

“What.. what are you talking about” you said taking a few steps back. Jonathan got off the bed and moved to stand in front of you. He looked to your eyes and then your lips and then your eyes again. “Can I kiss you y/n/n?” He asked as he leaned slightly in. You nodded, “I need words sweetheart or this can’t happen” he replied. “Yes, yes god yes, you can kiss me jon” you said, pulling his lips down to meet yours. Your tongues moved sloppily against each other’s. You moaned into Jonathan’s mouth as Steve came up behind you and sucked on your neck. “That feel good baby?” You heard Steve whisper in your ear. “Yes daddy, so good” you replied as you grinded back again him. You could feel his cock against your ass so you shifted more. He groaned as he placed both hands on your hips to stop you.

“I thought you were gonna sit on Jonathan’s face first baby” Steve said as he kept his grip on your hips. “Yeah, you don’t want to leave me wanting do you honey?” Jonathan asked, slightly pouting. “No sir sorry” you said shaking your head.

“Good girl, I’m gonna lay on the bed and you’re gonna sit on my face okay honey?” Jonathan said moving to the bed. “Yes sir, I understand” you said, moving to sit next to Jonathan. “Go on then, sit on his face” Steve said from the end of the bed. “I can’t daddy. I still have my pants on” you replied shifting. “Oh? Does my little girl need help taking her pants off?” Steve said as he walked behind you. You leaned back into him, “yes daddy, please help me take my pants off” you whined pushing further into his stomach. “Okay baby I’ll help you, be a good girl and stay still for me” he said as he hooked his fingers into your waistband. In one quick pull down your shorts were on the floor. “What do you say?” Jonathan said tapping your thigh. You looked from him back to Steve. “Thank you daddy” you said as you looked at Steve. “You’re welcomed sweetheart now sit on Jon’s face” he instructed as he moved you onto Jonathan’s chest.

You moved till your core was hovering directly over Jonathan’s mouth. Not one for patience, Jon pulled your thighs down till you were fully on his face. You moaned as Jon licked a stripe from your entrance to your clit. “Does that feel good baby?” Steve asked coming to stand next to you. “Yes daddy feels so good” you moaned tightening your thighs around Jon’s head.

Jonathan reached his hand between his face and your pussy before slowly inserting a finger. You moaned as his finger slid into you. “Oh god! Sir” you moaned out. “You think you can take more honey?” You heard him ask from below you. “Yes sir, please sir” you replied grinding down onto the finger he already had in you. He slipped two more fingers in and you moaned at how full you felt. He moved his tongue back in to suck on your clit. “How’s he feel baby?” Steve asked moving your hair off your neck. “So, so good daddy” you replied shifting your hips back down onto him. “I know right, has such a nice mouth on him, doesn’t he lovey?” He asked you as he kissed your neck again. “Yes daddy, such a nice mouth” you moaned out. “Come on, use me, use my face baby” you heard from below you.

So you did, you grinded down onto his face and simply used him for your own pleasure. You heard moans come from both boys as they watched you finally take what you wanted.

You came shortly after and Jonathan lapped it up. You got up off of his face and he moved to kiss you. You moaned as you tasted yourself on him. “Baby, it’s Stevie’s turn, we’ve been getting all the fun so I think you should let your daddy fuck you” Jonathan whispered in your ear. “Yes sir” you whimpered, as you moved to kiss Steve. “Hi baby” he smiled into the kiss. “Hi daddy” you smiled as you kissed him and then kissed his neck. You ground down onto his lap and he groaned. “Baby, Stop teasing me” He choked out. “Sorry Stevie it’s just so fun” you said as you did It again. You did it a few more times till he was whimpering underneath you. He looked up at you with tears in his eyes before whimpering out your name. “Do you need something baby?” You asked innocently. You looked at Jonathan who was behind Steve, he just smirked and went back to kissing Steve’s neck.

“Yes mommy, n-need you please” he whimpered pushing his hips up into yours. You heard Jonathan snicker before kissing Steve’s neck again. “Yeah baby boy? You need me?” You asked as you pulled his pants down.

“Yes mommy, I do” he said, lifting his hips to help you get his pants off. You lowered yourself till you were sat on his shaft. You grinded against him, slicking his shaft. “Please, mommy, need to be in you” he whimpered pulling you flush against him. “Alright baby” you said as you lined him up with your entrance. You lowered down onto him and you both moaned as he bottomed out. You started to rock yourself back and forth while Jon went to kiss you over Steve’s shoulder. “Does he feel good honey?” Jon asked wiping your hair off your forehead. “Yes sir, feels so good, so big” you mumbled as you rode him. “Mommy please let me fill you please” Steve whimpered underneath you. “Go ahead baby, fill mommy up” you said, kissing his forehead. Steve came quickly after that and so did you.

Jonathan moved out from behind Steve to wrap his arms around you. “You wanna suck my cock pretty girl? Hmm?” Jonathan said as he kissed your neck. “Yes sir, wanna help you” you whined as he sucked on your neck.

“Okay honey come kneel in front of me” Jon said so you slid off of Steve with a whine. You got up and kneeled in front of Jonathan. “Good girl” Jon said rubbing your cheek. “Thank you sir” you said as you leaned into his palm. “Take my pants off for me baby” Jon said, as he unbuckled his belt. You pulled his pants down, including his underwear and stroked his cock. “Open up for me, sweet girl” he said tapping your jaw. You opened your mouth and he slid his cock in. “Remember baby, two taps of you need me to pull out okay?” He said as he brushed your hair behind your ear. You nodded so he pushed his dick further into your mouth. You started to bob your head back and forth taking him further each time you went.

“Good, good girl, taking me so well baby” he moaned above you. Steve came behind you and started rubbing your clit. You moaned around Jonathan causing him to push further into your mouth. Making you gag as he hit the back of your throat.

Jonathan threaded his fingers through your hair and pushed your head back and forth. “Breathe through your nose honey you’ve got this” you heard Steve say from behind you. Right as Jonathan came down your throat you tapped his thigh twice. “Are you okay pretty girl?” He asked, fixing your hair. “Yeah m’okay, just tired” you mumbled against his thigh. “Come on honey, let’s get you into a bath” he said as he scooped you up. Steve had already left to start filling the tub. Jonathan kissed your head as he lowered you into the steaming water. They turned to leave the room when you called out to them. “Stevie, Jon, will you get in the bath with me” you called out before they fully exited the bathroom. “You get in with her, I’ll change the sheets and then come back” Jonathan said, so Steve slowly lowered himself in the giant tub behind you.

“How’re you feeling baby?” Steve asked kissing your shoulder. “I’m alright Stevie, just floaty” you replied leaning back against him. “When’s Jon coming in?” You asked, looking out to the bedroom. “I’m right here y/n/n” he said as he walked back into the bathroom.

“Get in please Jon” you whined reaching up to him. He slowly got into the bath next to you. Steve washed your body as Jonathan washed your hair. You leaned back and started washing Steve’s hair. After you finished Steve’s hair you washed Jonathan’s. “What do you wanna do now baby?” Steve asked from behind you. “Wanna cuddle and watch a movie please” you said as Jon got out and wrapped himself in a towel. He handed one to Steve, and then went to the dryer to pull yours out so it was warm. “Your pajamas are on the bed honey” Jon said as he passed Steve his. We all changed and then laid on the bed. While you were changing steve had put in heathers. “I love you Stevie” you said as you kissed him. He mumbled a love you too as you turned to kiss Jonathan.

“I love you Jon” you mumbled into the kiss. “I love you too sweet girl” he said kissing your lips and then your forehead.

#jonathan byers fluff #jonathan byers x reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x reader #jonathan byers x you #steve harrington x you #steve x jonathan #Steve x Jonathan x Reader #jonathan byers #steve harrington #Steve Harrington smut #jonathan byers smut #stranger things fluff #stranger things #stranger things x you #stranger things smut #stonathan x yn #stonathan x reader #Stonathan

131 notes · View notes

quixoticall · 9 months ago

Text

This Could Get Ugly Track 5: The Beginning of the End

Summary: It's 1983 and The Downsides need another lead singer and you just happen to need a band--it's a perfect match. The only issue? You have to pretend to be in a relationship with your bandmate, Steve Harrington, but you can't help but be drawn to the band's broody guitar player.

pairing: s.h. x fem!reader, e.m. x fem!reader, j.b. x n.w.,

warnings: ANGST, drinking, drug use, smut, oral and fingering f receiving, p in v sex, the Harringtons make an appearance.

a/n: It has been a while my loves! If you've been following me at all, you know I've had a rough month. I really, truly appreciate every single one of you who has reached out and checked in! I appreciate you! This chapter is extra long to make up for lost time and it contains smut. It's my first time writing smut, so hopefully, I did not disappoint.

wc: 11.2K

MASTERLIST🎸

PLAY PREVIOUS TRACK 🎵

APRIL 28th, 1984 PHILADELPHIA , PA—THE UPSIDE DOWN TOUR

If you wanted to be technical about it, the whole thing started with Argyle.

The two of you were backstage, sitting outside the dressing rooms killing time during the opener—some local band that you weren’t previously familiar with.

You had always appreciated Argyle’s ability to be friendly with everyone and float above the tensions, that was the case especially now when things with the others seemed to have fallen apart a little.

You were sitting next to each other on the floor, backs against the wall, as you were running him through some of the songs that had made the preliminary list for the next album and asking for his input while he threw a bouncy ball against the opposite wall. You liked working with Argyle, he was out of the box, creative, and one of the most technically skilled band members. You had been sitting with him for only 30 minutes and he had already made one of your songs infinitely better.

“What’s the move tonight, dude?” he asks you, nonchalantly as you scribbled down some of his suggested changes.

You shrug in response, “I dunno, I might just go home and sleep after this, maybe work on the arrangements for this—” You wave your beat-up notebook in the air, and he scoffs.

“You like never come out with us anymore,” he exclaims, “I miss when we all used to party together, dude. Now you are all dropping like flies and it’s not as fun anymore!”

It was your turn to scoff at him, “Please, I was never the life of the party, Argyle, c’mon.”

“Are you kidding, dude? People would always show up in droves to see you. Plus, you’re like totally fun. Remember when you and Steve did karaoke in Austin and you both got on the bar? That was totally cool.”

You chuckle at the memory and concede, “Yeah, that was pretty fun, but you still have everyone else!”

“Well, you took my dude Eddie too,” he points out without malice.

“What do you mean?”

“He hasn’t come out since St. Louis—keeps saying he’s gonna stay in just in case you want to write with him.”

Of course, this is news to you. You hadn’t taken up Eddie’s offer to write together since he had spurned you in Missouri (and since he starred in a very vivid dream of yours). It wasn’t that you didn’t accept his apology (presented in the form of a ridiculously large flower bouquet) it was that thing would have been far too awkward at this point.

It wasn’t that you had a crush on him necessarily, you were pretty sure that mantle was still taken up by Steve to some extent, it was more that there was an undeniable sexual something between the two of you below the surface that your dreams had made obvious and you didn’t trust yourself to be alone in a room with him without wanting to rip his clothes off.

Obviously, giving in to your desires was a bad idea for a multitude of reasons but chiefly, because:

a. It would wreak havoc on the band.

b. You were certain Eddie wouldn’t reciprocate your advances.

But then… you had heard what Argyle had said.

“Wait, are you saying Eddie has been hanging out after shows just on the off chance that I may call him?” You confirm incredulously.

Argyle nods in response, “Yeah. Did you put a spell on him or something?”

“No,” you respond wryly, “I’m not that type of witch, I’m the bad kind of witch.”

“Well, you definitely did something to the dude, he’s been obsessing over whether or not you hate him and keeps trying to get me to ask.”

This takes you aback completely. Eddie caring so much what you thought of him that he’d be willing to ask Argyle, of all people to discreetly scope that out seems improbable so you continue to probe.

“What do you mean by that?”

“Well, he obviously thinks you’re pretty and he’s just been waiting around for you to call him up, and he cares a lot about what you think of him, which is weird because last time I checked he kinda hated you—no offense.”

“How do you know all this?” You ask, ignoring the offense.

“He told me, duh.”

“Have you told anyone else this?”

“No one else has asked,” Argyle says plaintively.

“Well, how about we keep all of this between the three of us, then?” You propose.

Before the drummer can confirm, the thundering applause signaling that the opening act had wrapped up cut the conversation off.

Neither of you has the chance to continue the discussion before being rushed onto stage by a harried and high-strung stage manager.

Without knowing, Argyle had invertedly changed the course of everything.

***

EDDIE: We were in Philly. It was a great show—probably one of the best of that tour. The audience was feeling us the opener was sick and we were just gelling for what felt like probably the first time. It was like we were all finally on the same wavelength if that makes sense. No more guessing what the next move was or fighting to keep up. It was like we were finally learning to trust each other.

***

The Philly show was electric, all the elements had come together perfectly. You and Steve were particularly reveling in it. You spent most of the night singing into the same microphone, lips inches from one another, your hand grasping the back of his neck, fingers carding through his hair, and eye contact unbreaking. At one point, you were certain by the way he had captured your bottom lip under the meat of his thumb, that he was going to lean in and kiss you on the mouth, a barrier that the two of you had managed to maintain this whole time.

The audience must have had a similar thought by the sounds of their cheers—a sound that seemed to have shaken both you and Steve from whatever spell you had been under because the next thing you know the pressure of his thumb was gone and his eyes were turned away from you and towards the crowd.

The rest of the show was spent similarly—the two of you toeing the line and the audience following your every move. It was easy to get addicted both to the applause and the intimacy.

After the encores were sung and the last bows were taken, though, Steve was back to barely being able to look at you.

The only time his gaze does flit to you, ever-briefly, is when you politely decline Argyle’s invitation to go out after the show.

“Come on dude, you said you would come if I looked at your song,” the drummer gives a half-hearted attempt at bargaining which only makes you giggle.

“I never said that Argyle,” and truly you hadn’t, “I said that I couldn’t go out because I had to make those changes you suggested.”

In response, Argyle begins to boo you, loudly and the others join in eagerly.

You roll your eyes playfully and bid goodbye to Argyle and the rest of the band when you part ways for the night and you notice that other than yourself, Eddie is the only one missing from the boisterous group but you try not to think too much on it.

Your efforts to push all thoughts of Eddie out of your mind seemed to have the opposite effect and it was like the thoughts themselves were digging their heels in and had found your mind to be a welcoming home.

You had made the song changes you had told Argyle you would and even tried to make some progress on your plethora of unfinished songs. As it turned out, you worked slower when you wrote alone.

You knew that as the remaining tour dates dwindled and the band’s return to LA drew closer, you eventually would have to approach Eddie again to write together. It was indisputable that whatever the two of you produced together was almost always better than what you accomplished alone.

How could you possibly approach him when you could barely look at him without dying of mortification? With Steve, at least, you could get some of the sexual energy out on stage, but with Eddie you didn’t have the same luxury and it stayed bottled up.

All of this, along with Argyle’s words from earlier in the evening made focusing nearly impossible and you gave up on writing all together, deciding to call it a night and head to bed. To your chagrin, the better part of the night was spent tossing and turning trying to evict the thoughts and ideas that had begun to formulate in your mind fueled by a lack of sleep, stress and desperation. And suddenly, you had an idea.

Admittedly, it was not a very good idea. It was actually probably a very bad idea. A ruinous idea even. And yet, you found yourself pulling the covers off yourself and stumbling into a pair of slippers, perplexed by your actions. You wondered, as you blearily shuffled down the identical hotel halls why you weren’t trying to talk yourself out of this idea—one that you were certain was going to change everything. Perhaps you were itching for a new thrill. Or maybe you were as selfish as everyone seemed to believe. Maybe it was the poison that had settled in your heart before you were old enough to know better, insisting that there was no other option for you. Or maybe you were giving yourself far too much credit and you were simply horny.

Whatever the reason, it brought you directly to Eddie Munson’s door.

***

EDDIE: I swear I thought I was dreaming when I saw her there, standing outside my door in this tiny pajama top and even tinier short. They had little cherries on them. I remember thinking they were so cute. Her hair was all a mess. I thought that was cute too.

After probably 5 minutes of us standing there in the doorway, I finally got my brain to work enough to invite her in. She seemed nervous at first. Sort of paced around the room, not saying anything for a while and then—I swear to God—she asks, “Do you want to sleep with me?” out of fucking nowhere. If I hadn’t been there myself, I would’ve never believed it. Hell, even telling you now, part of me thinks I made it up.

My brain short-circuited because I couldn’t even respond. I just stared at her with my jaw on the fucking floor, trying to remember what the signs of a stroke were.

***

“Are you serious?” Eddie spits out, voice hoarse with shock at your overly-direct question.

You nod, wordlessly, trying to ignore the panic that has begun to set in.

“Why?” he presses.

You shrug, which he doesn’t find sufficient because he nods along, trying to draw the reasons from you.

“We both like sex,” you explain, clumsily, “and I find you attractive and I think you find me attractive, too—” he nods feverishly at this—“so why not have some fun?”

You try to say this last part enticingly but aren’t sure you pulled it off until you see a flush play itself across his pretty features.

“Why me? Why not Harrington?”

Even though you had anticipated the question, you can’t help but steel yourself as you respond, “Because we like each other enough for it to be fun but not enough for either of us to get attached.”

You watched, with bated breath as the thoughts played out over Eddie’s features and when you see a flash of what could be hurt you entertain for the briefest moment, the idea that maybe someone could get hurt but the thought is pushed away as a lazy grin begins to spread over his face and a newfound cockiness color his features.

Suddenly, he is much closer, and the space between your two bodies draws thin.

“Now?” he asks.

“Yes, now,” you squeak out as he encroaches in on you, fingertips grazing the bare skin on your hips.

You take a step towards him, moving to stand flush against his hip, invitingly and weave a hand through his unruly bed head curls. You want him to know how much you want this—how much you’ve wanted this. It was inevitable really, there had always been a tension between the two of you. Whether it was the hot friction of dislike , the bold spark of creative partnership or the hot embers of sexual tension, the two of you burned for one another just the same.

He leans in for a kiss when your impatience gets the best of you and you rush to meet him halfway.

He tastes like cigarettes and cherries, a taste you revel in as his lips move languidly over yours. Suddenly, he takes your bottom lip between his teeth and lightly tugs, and a moan tumbles out of you.

“We can’t tell anyone,” you mutter into the kiss and it goes unacknowledged.

The cold of his rings meets your nipples through the thin fabric of your strappy pajama top and your body arches in response.

The kiss is broken you are left gasping for air. Eddie wastes no time in attaching his lips to your neck, his tongue tracing over your collarbone hotly.

The straps of your top are shucked of your shoulders and the fabric bunched down towards your middle and a trail of kisses following in its wake.

Your knees hit the edge of the bed, and the hands in your waist guide you down in a fluid motion.

Your eyes flutter as wet kisses are peppered over your breasts.

“Come on princess, let me hear those pretty noises,” Eddie murmurs into your skin, his hot breath covering you in goosebumps.

A heady moan escapes you, almost on command. It would’ve embarrassed you if you still had the decency to care.

A trail of kisses and suddenly Eddie is thumbing at the waistband of your shorts. You nod fervently when his eyes suddenly trail up to find you, but that’s not enough for him.

“Come on, baby,” he teases, “tell me what you want.”

You throw your head back in frustration and want and Eddie takes this lapse in response to run his hand sloppily over your clothed core.

“So wet,” he murmured, “so pretty.”

You let out a desperate laugh at this and his eyes are back on you, expectantly and any resistant you have dissipates.

“Touch me, please,” you sigh, half plea, half demand.

It’s not a hard sell because your shorts and underwear are gone in a flash and cold rings are pulling your thighs wide open.

You reach out towards Eddie’s curls for purchase, gently tugging him closer to your core, hoping he’d get the message.

A moment of clarity cuts through your haze and suddenly you’re pulling him up by his hair, forcing eye contact.

“No one can know,” you insists.

He’s all half-lidded eyes and dazed smile when he’s looking at you.

Leaning in to grab his jaw in your palm, you pull him close. This is important.

“Eddie, no one can know. Promise me,” you repeat again.

He nods in agreement, even though his expression leads you to believe you could’ve asked anything in that moment and he would’ve readily acquiesced.

“No one can know,” he affirms before hitching your body closer with a harsh tug on your thighs and disappearing in between your legs, mouth latching hotly to where you need him the most.

***

EDDIE: We started sleeping together that night. A no strings attached type thing. We had to keep it a secret. She didn’t want to hurt Harrington’s feelings which I understood. He was a good guy and anyone could tell he was head over heels for her.

And she was just… well, I guess she was just afraid. We were kind of the same in that way. Couldn’t hold onto anything without crushing it into dust.

***

MAY 1st, 1984–STATEN ISLAND, NY—THE UPSIDE DOWN TOUR

Eddie’s hands are curled around your thighs, keeping your body balanced on the flimsy tour bus bathroom sink. His silver rings dig into the soft flesh of your thigh in a way that you are certain will leave bruises in their wake.

You have to be quiet, you know that. Even if the rest of the band had taken a quick pit stop between Philly and New York to explore the Staten Island Zoo and the likelihood of them coming back this early was low, it wasn’t non-existent . This left you stifling your own moans into the back of your hand as Eddie rocked into you languidly and delicious.

Your hand moved to steady itself behind you as he lets go of your left thigh and places the pad of his thumb on the soft flesh of your clit, causing you to forget nearly everything.

He seems to anticipate your next move though, because his mouth is quickly on yours, tongue gliding over your bottom lip and effectively keeping you quiet.

The angle of his hips meeting your core and his nimble fingers worked together to bring you closer to your release.

“I can feel it, baby, you’re close aren’t you?”

You nod feverishly, eyes screwed shut, “Yes, so good Eds. I’m gonna cum,” you manage to squeak out.

“C’mon pretty girl, look at me,” Eddie instructs firmly, but you can tell by the strain in his voice that he’s not too far behind, “wanna see you when you cum.”

You force your eyes open and he rewards you by pressing his unoccupied thumb into your bottom lip which you greedily take into your mouth.

Your release washes over you in a wave and you watch moments later as Eddie finds his own.

The two of you are left panting for a few moments as you try to steady yourselves. Once you find your bearings, you lower yourself from the sink and adjust the sundress that was so carelessly shucked to your hips and Eddie busies himself with disposing of the condom discreetly.

Turning to the bathroom mirror, you make an attempt at taming your haphazard hair and fixing your smudged lipstick before making a move for the door.

“Well, that was nice,” you offer before spilling into the tour bus’s common space.

“Wait,” Eddie cries out as he’s still adjusting his belt, “where are you going?”

You shrug nonchalantly in response but don’t turn around, “Back to the girls’ bus.”

“You don’t want to… you don’t want to stick around maybe? We could do some writing?” Eddie sounds out of breath when he asks but you chalk it up to the sex.

“Better not. It might look suspicious,” you explain as you take the stops down from the bus, two at a time.

“Right, wouldn’t want that,” Eddie squeaks out and you smile back at him, grateful for his understanding.

“See you later, Eds.”

Eddie doesn’t say anything back, but when you look back after having boarded your own bus, he’s still standing on the bottom step, eyes still on you.

***

EDDIE: Let’s get the record straight about something though, I didn’t steal her away from anyone. She is her own person first of all, not some thing to be stolen. And second of all, she came to me first. Not the other way around. And! She and Harrington weren’t even really seeing each other. So, other than the lying, it truthfully wasn’t that bad.

But then again, does the truth even matter? Especially now? After everything?

INTERVIEWER: It does to me and to you too, I think, otherwise you wouldn’t be here.

EDDIE: Has anyone ever told you you’re too smart for your own good?

***

MAY 3rd, 1984–NEW YORK CITY, NY—THE UPSIDE DOWN TOUR

It was easy, really, to keep your fling with Eddie a secret from the rest of the band. Most of them were barely paying attention to what you were doing anyway.

Nancy and Jonathan were once again preoccupied with waiting by the phone to hear from Jonathan’s mother, Joyce. Will’s condition had once again worsen and the two were on high alert.

Robin and Steve were busy sightseeing and pointedly only talking to you when necessary. They weren’t hostile, per se, (or at least, Steve wasn’t) but they also made a point to not invite you to their outing. You want to tell them to be wary of the paps since the city is crawling with them in a matter akin to cockroaches but you know better than to try to tell Robin what to do.

Argyle, for his part, is in his own world.

The two of you were essentially in the clear barring rehearsals, shows and any stray public appearance. Still, you couldn’t help but want to take precautions.

***

EDDIE: She would never sleep over. You know, after. She was too worried about what would happen if Steve or anyone else went looking for her.

It shouldn’t have bothered me as much as it did, she—we had made it very clear that this was a purely physical thing but, well, between you and me kid, I always knew it was never gonna be like that. At least not for me. I was in deep for way longer than I had realized.

***

Long, skilled fingers trace patterns along your naked spine. The movements are comforting, calming, you almost find yourself lulled to sleep. Except you know you shouldn’t—that you can’t.

Your eyes flutter open as you fight against the sleep that sets in. This isn’t your bed, you remind yourself, and you feel that in the brush of the sheets against your naked body that definitively do not feel like the sheets of your bed merely a few doors down. It’s a silly thought, truly, these sheets are probably the exact same as the ones on your bed and more so, you haven’t slept in your bed, a bed that is truly, strictly your own in years . Still, this does not feel quite right.

You will your body to stir, working actively against every nerve that is telling you not to move from the warm, comfortable haven you had found and the warm body next to you but you know better. This is a dance you’re familiar with: they ask you to stay but don’t really mean it and if they do it’s only to squeeze another quick fuck in.

“Why don’t you stay?” Eddie grumbles into your shoulder even though both of you already know the answer.

“What if someone comes looking for me, huh?” A question for a question, “it’ll be hard to explain to Hopper why I’m naked in your bed.”

“Bullshit. You’re one of the only ones Hopper doesn’t have to keep tabs on,” Eddie’s only partially playful in saying this.

“I miss my bed,” you rebut, plainly and the guitarist pouts in response.

“This is like the same bed, dude.”

“ ‘Dude’? You’ve been hanging out with Argyle way too much.”

“Whatever,” Eddie dismisses as his hand travels down along your spine to circle around the rise of your hip to the front of your body to pull you closer against his chest and you squeal.

His skilled fingers travel down to the apex of your legs and two of them swipe through your still-wet heat making you jolt. You’re still sensitive from earlier in the night and Eddie is using that to his advantage as he swipes over your clit.

You moan at the contact and your hips canter forward embarrassingly quickly.

“Don’t want to leave now, do you?” Eddie teases as he moves away from your clit to tease your entrance and you mewl in response. Before you know it a pair of lips are attached to your neck and two fingers are slowly, deliciously rocking in and out of your core. A hand moves up to grip Eddie by the hair as you moan.

“Just like that, please keep going.”

You feel Eddie’s length begin to harden against your back as his pace quickens and his thumb circles your clit bringing you closer to your third orgasm of the night.

“No fair,” you pant, as you feel a tightening in your lower stomach. “You can’t keep me around by giving me orgasms.”

He laughs at this, full-blown guffaws. “There’s no rule against it,” he says as his tongue slides over the shell of your ear. His fingers curl inside you and you gasp at the sudden pressure before succumbing to the feeling. Your release washes over you, unexpectedly and you cry out.

A few seconds reprieve give you a moment to come back to earth. You sigh contently feeling Eddie’s harden length against the swell of you ass.

It would be impolite to leave him hanging.

***

EDDIE: Not that I could complain about our arrangement.

***

You had fallen asleep. Accidentally, of course, but erroneously still. You realize this far too late as the harsh red numbers of the hotel room alarm clock blare at you angrily: 11:52 AM.

You scramble out of bed, covers flung in the process and you make a grab for your clothes that litter the floor. The sudden, frantic movement had inadvertently awoken the man sleeping next to you and you could hear the sleep in his voice as he tried to grasp the situation.

“Woah, woah where’s the fire, princess?”

“It’s nearly noon!” you respond, panic clear in your voice. “I accidentally fell asleep and now it’s almost noon!”

Your mind is overcome with worst case scenarios and conclusions that are easily jumped to as you imagine how this late morning can turn into your downfall.

Eddie tries valiantly to calm you down to no avail. You had done the one thing you said you never would: you stayed the night and now you didn’t know what to do with that other than panic and rush out the door half dressed and fully angered with yourself throwing a paltry goodbye to a very disoriented Eddie over your shoulder as you did so.

You try to fix your hair in the elevator along with your harried breath. Most of the band wake up late into the day, you try to remind yourself, especially after a night out.

It was not unusual to be walking the halls of your hotel room at this time, but you still felt overwhelmingly nervous walking back to your room in a way that you felt obviously gave away that you were coming back from a night of raunchy sex.

Your heart dropped to your stomach as the elevator doors slid open to reveal Steve Harrington waiting outside your door. This is what you were afraid of. Certainly one look at you and he’d know exactly what you were doing and probably with who and that would spell the end of the Downsides, you were sure of it.

You didn’t say anything as you exited the elevator and slowly made your way over, hoping to prolong the moment before everything came crumbling down as much as you could.

A few steps in and you had caught Steve’s attention. When he looked at you though, it wasn’t with anger or disappointment but with nerves.

***

STEVE: My parents moved around a lot after I left home. Indianapolis, Chicago, Phoenix in the winter and Bridgeport in the summer, you know, regular rich folks shit.

It’s not like I could ever go back home but when they heard the band was planning on making the stop they wanted me to visit them and they wanted me to bring my girlfriend to meet them. I hadn’t wanted to ask then, things were kind of awkward between the two of us, but they kept insisting. It’s like they didn’t believe I could’ve bagged a girl like her and they were willing to call me on it. So, I had no other choice but to ask.

***

You understood where Steve was coming from, truly, your own parents were rich and demanding. Plus, something about seeing your fake boyfriend waiting at your door after a night sleeping with someone else really made you susceptible to his request.

And really, there wasn’t a universe where you would say no to a request from Steve Harrington, so of course you were going to meet his parents.

***

MAY 6th, 1984–NEW YORK CITY, NY—30 ROCKEFELLER PLAZA

“So I heard you’re meeting the in-laws,” Eddie plops down in the makeup seat next to you

You’re backstage at The Nightly Show with Chris Palmer, getting ready for one of the few media appearances Hopper had managed to schedule during the band’s short stint in the city.

You can tell by the pinching between Eddie’s eyes and the snarl in his tone that he’s not in a good mood. You chock up his demeanor to the same thing that has dampened yours: the upcoming interview.

The lack of media appearances had been a welcomed change during the band’s time on the road and the adjustment back to them have been rocky. You, for one, are on edge at the idea of having to sit down with the smarmy, sexist, Chris Palmer who, on his late night show, had already taken a few swings at you for laughs and the thought of him having the chance to do so to your face, made you sick.

Which was why you barely responded to Eddie’s attempt t goading you and instead, shrug in response, tightly, “I guess.”

His eyes flit over you and his demeanor shift to one approximating concern. “Hey, you doing okay?” He moves closer, but not enough for it to be noticeable to anyone but you.

“Yeah,” you try to smile but it comes out a grimace, “just out of practice I guess.”

“Well, if it’s any consolation, I have an extra copy of Baldwin that I brought on accident if you want a distraction,” the book flashes in your periphery and this time your smile comes out genuine and unprompted.

While you can’t be one hundred percent certain, you’re familiar enough with the guitarist’s ways to know that this was no accident—he brought the book with you in mind.

You make a grab for it but have to keep yourself from leaning in for a hug at the risk of the others’ scrutiny and your makeup artist’s ire. Not knowing how else to communicate your appreciation, you give his shirt a quick—and hopefully discreet—tug. He seems to catch your drift because his fingers graze yours purposefully as you move your hand away.

The brief touch shoots electricity through you.

“Thanks,” you murmur before watching him jaunt away to his spot between Argyle and Jonathan, both of your moods seemingly lifted, if only for a moment.

You’re grateful for the distraction although it barely keeps your attention and instead end up thumbing through the pages anxiously to the chagrin of your makeup artist who is clearly relieved to pass you onto hair once the final touches of lipstick are applied.

You thank her profusely before moving next door where, to the surprise of exactly no one, you’re sat next to Steve. Or at least you think it’s Steve you’re sat next to given how little you can see through the thick mass of hairspray clouding the air.

“They don’t call me ‘The Hair’ for nothing, right?” He says when you catch his eye through the fumes.

His hair stylists laughs a little too hard for your taste and you can’t help but roll your eyes.

“I thought you hated that nickname,” you say, settling into your chair, ready to play your part as the doting girlfriend.

He shrugs nonchalantly, “there are worst things to be called.”

You scoff in response, your previous concerns regarding tonight’s host bubbling up again, “I am sure there are.”

Steve turns to you fully now, offering a charming apology to his stylist that leaves her a giggling puddle, and you can feel his eyes scanning you in assessment.

He suddenly reaches over to the vanity in front of him, “The vending machine in the hall is totally broke, it gave me four candy bars. Do you want one?”

You look over at the bars in his hand which he has fanned evenly and is waving as if they’re a wad of cash and you grab one out of his reach.

“These are my favorite,” you point out as you smooth a hand over the wrapper, remembering all the times you would raid the vending machines at venues or backstage before an interview for them.

“I know,” he says, impishly.

“Harrington, be straight with me, is the machine really broken or did you get me my favorite candy bar just to butter me up?”

He nods, self-satisfied, like a little kid happy to be caught doing something that they’ll know they’ll get away with. Your joint hairstylists coo in adoration at your dotting “boyfriend” and you can’t help but roll your eyes affectionately.

“You seem a bit nervous,” he explains, “and candy usually helps.”

You exhale a laugh at this and admit that he’s right, “candy usually does help,” before nibbling on the bar carefully for the sake of your lipstick.

“So, what’s up?” He asks after a beat, while the hairstylists are preoccupied cleaning their tools, “are you nervous about doing our thing again?”

He says the last part with an overly-dramatic eyebrow waggle and you giggle.

What do you mean?” You ask, avoiding his glance.

He almost rolls his eyes at this but catches himself, knowing better.

“You just seem off, like nervous almost? But not in the usual way you are nervous about interview, but like different. Normally you’re just nervous because you overthink it but now it’s like you’re dreading it.”

You snort at the way he saw right through you.

“It’s stupid but, Chris Palmer has made jokes about me in the past, you know, about my dating history and things like that and I’m not really looking forward to hearing what he has to say tonight,” you explain, bashfully.

“What do you mean? Do you and Chris know each other?”

“No,” you respond, shifting uncomfortably in your seat, “he just is, you know, one of those comedians who pokes fun at celebrities and he loves making fun of women who ‘get around’ or whatever and well, that was my reputation before you… and the band.”

You see realization dawn on Steve’s features, it’s almost like he doesn’t believe anyone could ever be mean to you. Realization quickly turns to anger.

“And you think he’ll make fun of you tonight in the same way? In front of everyone?”

You shrug at this, “maybe, he’s not exactly known for taking it easy on his guests, but I’m used to it, it’s annoying though.”

Steve shakes his head aggressively at your dismissal and bolts up from his char, “No, I’m going to go talk to Hopper or something, have him tell Palmer’s people he needs to cool it or we won’t perform.”

He’s marching down the hall now, purposeful and quick. You make a beeline after him running ahead to cut him off.

“Woah, hey, Steve, you do not need to do that.” The last thing you want is the band being labeled as difficult to work with this early on.

Standing in front of him with your hands flat on his chest, you suddenly become very aware of all the eyes peaking out of the different green rooms to watch the exchange curiously, band mates and crew alike.

Steve grabs one of your hands lightly in his and gives it a tepid squeeze.

“I’m sorry but I am not sitting up there tonight and listening to anyone say anything bad about you. That’s just not going to happen, okay? Please trust me, I won’t do anything crazy, I’ll just talk to Hopper and we’ll figure this out. I have your back, remember?”

You study his face as he says this and are caught up in the earnestness etched into every corner of it.

“Okay,” you finally say, softly and back away from his path, “thanks.”

And you watch him go.

***

STEVE: Hopper hadn’t known about the Palmer thing. He wouldn’t have booked us if he did. When I told him, he was pretty peeved and we immediately went to go talk to the stage manager—some smarmy guy whose name I don’t remember.

Told us essentially, that it was no use, that Palmer wrote his own material fresh before each show.

Well, after that, Hopper and I track down Palmer in his dressing room and, you know, we give him a shake down. Old school style. Like back when Hopper was on the force. … he did most of the shaking down, don’t get me wrong, I was definitely going to get in there, but he seemed to really enjoy it. Plus I had just gotten my hair done.

***

When Steve reappears in the green room half an hour later, Hopper is trailing him smiling giddily.

Coming up to your side, Steve wraps an arm around your shoulders and leans into your hair to murmur, “We took care of it.” The giant grin Hopper is sporting lets you know that they had and you exhale a sigh of relief, curling a hand against his bicep gratefully.

You spring back a few seconds later when you feel Eddie’s heavy gaze from the spot he occupied next to you, eyes boring into all the places your body is touching Steve’s.

You can sense Steve’s confusion at the lost contact but before anything else can be said or done, the stage manager appears to move escort the band to the sound stage saving you from having to navigate the complex social dynamic of interacting with your fake boyfriend who wants to be your real boyfriend and your band rival turned friend-with-benefits. Gratefully, you allow yourself to believe for the first time, that maybe luck would be on your side and tonight wouldn’t be so bad.

***

NANCY: Do I think Chris Palmer had a personal vendetta against her? No, not going into that night, anyway. I think he was just a misogynistic idiot who didn’t know what to do about a talented and beautiful woman who also did whatever she wanted. His mind couldn’t wrap around that.

That was true for a lot of men back then. And now too.

JONATHAN: It felt like Chris had a personal vendetta against her.

***

The first half of the interview went well enough.

The band was welcomed with great fanfare and everyone filed towards the couches in the center of the stage next to the large mahogany desk Chris sat behind. You and Steve were, of course, together at the forefront and you could hear the collective cooing when he helped you down the platform.

The interview started out mild, questions about the tour and being on the road. Thankfully, Steve took the helm for most of them with the band weighing in throughout.

To your surprise, Chris directs his next question to you and Eddie.

“You two are the newest additions to the band, how has the transition been coming from working as a solo artist and from a band of a whole different genre to the Downsides and what made you want to make the change?”

The question was surprisingly insightful which took you a second to process and come up with an answer that wasn’t “Well, Chris, we were forced to join The Downsides at the risk of our careers ending completely.”

Eddie beats you to it, “The royalty checks are better than they are when you’re in a metal band for one—“ it takes the audience a second to realize this is a joke, but when they do the laugh pays off— “but honestly, I like the stability. What they don’t tell you, kids, is that too much rock and roll can be bad for you.” He says this part directly to the camera with a devilish grin.

“What about you?” Chris turns to you once the laughter subside, “do you miss being a free agent?”

You ignore how pointed that feels and smile in response.

“Not at all, the band has been super welcoming and there’s something really rewarding about working together to make something great happen.”

“Don’t miss your old duet partners at all?” The host needles.

“No, not really. At the risk of sounding cheesy Chris, I think I found my forever duet partner,” you punctuate your response with a pointed smile at Steve.

The audience eats your response up but you can tell that Chris is not ready to let it go. Luckily for you, a well-timed commercial break saves you from further questioning.

When the cameras start rolling once more though and the segment is reintroduced, Chris flashes you a wolfish smile.

“So, does this mean you’ve settled down a bit more, now that you’re a one-duet partner type of gal?”

The question makes your throat run dry because you know that there’s another, much tricker question behind it.

“No, not at all. It’s nice to be a part of something,” you respond placidly.

Chris barely lets you finish before launching into, “well the press sure does miss writing about you! Did you know that, in the last year, you were one of the most mentioned stars on Subrosa, popping up a total of 65 times only rivaled by one Evelyn Hugo in 1967.”

You don’t really know what to say or where this is going but the feeling of dread in your stomach grows.

“In fact,” he continues, “why don’t we play a game that we cooked up with the help of your Subrosa mentions?”

Games were something Chris did with his guests pretty frequently and they varied in execution but in nature there was always something a bit embarrassing to them and tonight was no exception. But instead of going after the band as a whole, this game was targeted specifically at you .

It was a guessing game, “Simple enough,” Chris touted as his assistants bring out giant blown up headshots of various male celebrities, guess which of the men you had been involved with according to the media and which ones you hadn’t been. The joke of course was that you had been linked to all the men whose pictures had been provided.

The looks of shock on your bandmates’ faces perfectly countered the one of self-satisfaction painted on Chris’s smarmy face.

You felt Steve stiffen beside you, leg twitching as if he was getting ready to stand up and leave. Or punch Chris. Before he can, you place a stabilizing leg on his thigh and giving a squeeze. You didn’t want this to diverge into a fight and you refuse to let this vile man make a fool of you on live television.

“Well, this won’t do,” you smirk at Chris. “You only have half of my list out here, Chris! You’re missing quite a few other fellas. I thought you wanted to make this difficult.”

“Oh?” The host is clearly not expecting your response but has no choice to lean in since you clearly have the audience’s attention, “and who could we possibly be missing?”

“The crown prince of Monaco, for starters,” you respond, evenly, “and the entire Harlem Globetrotters ‘83 starting lineup—“ the crowd guffaws at your clear exaggeration, “—and most importantly, this guy,” you reach over to grab Steve’s chin and affectionately squeeze his face. At this, laughter turns into applause and from where you are sitting on the shared couch, you see Chris’s jaw tighten.

“Is there anyone who’s hasn’t made the list?” he cries, trying to turn the joke back on you.

“You, for starters,” you respond playfully, and then add before he can say anything, “but who knows? Maybe this band thing doesn’t work out and in a few years time I’ll become washed up and lower my standards and you and I can give it a shot.”

Before Chris can retort, Steve cuts in with an over-exaggerated, faux-jealous, “what about me?” That kicks off a jokey bit of banter between the three of you that takes the show all the way up to comercial.

***

NANCY: There was a second part to the game.

ROBIN: Yeah, that second thing was just mean. It was essentially the same premise as the first guessing game but instead of guessing different men she had been associated with, it was different nicknames she had been given by the media. They were not very nice names either, “Siren of the Strip”, “Heartbreak of Hollywood”, “Pop Music’s Maneater”, you get the gist.

Of course, like with the last “game” the joke was that it had been all is them.

***

The names had been a surprise. You didn’t know how to react and neither did your bandmates although you’re pretty sure you can feel the heat from Eddie’s glare from the other end of the set.

Still, you kept your cool and immediately admitted that all of them seemed familiar and instead turned the conversation into criticisms of each of the names, which was gaining too many laughs for Chris to try to stop it.

“See this one I don’t like at all,” you say, pointing to Malibu Minx that had been professionally printed on a giant poster board in newspaper font.

“Whys that?” The host asked wolfishly.

“Malibu Minx? Are you serious? Anyone with half a brain knows I’m from the Hills, not Malibu. Honestly, it’s a little insulting.”

“Come on, they can’t be that different,” Chris still plays along, even though your comment did not go where he wanted it to.

“Not at all! The Hills is where all the directors and actors live, Malibu is where divorced dads take their kids during their monthly weekend visits. It’s like, here on the east coast… well, I can’t think of an East Coast equivalent. Chris, help me out, where do you take your kids during your monthly visits?”

***

ROBIN: You should’ve seen his face when she said that.

NANCY: His first divorce had just gone public a few weeks prior. Guess it was still a sore spot. Not that he didn’t deserve it, he did, but he wasn’t used to his guests fighting back like that. The rest of the show was… tense and then after the show ended Palmer lost his cool.

STEVE: Honestly, I wanted to punch the guy since he brought out his stupid little games, but I was willing to leave things as they were that night, especially after she had put Palmer in his place, but we get backstage after the show and he starts yelling at her about having “embarrassed” him or something like he hadn’t essentially called her a bunch of names on live tv. Before any of us could even do anything though, Hopper had him pinned against the wall, saying stuff like “I thought we had come to an agreement about the jokes, Palmer.”

He gave him a good shake down, you know how intimidating Hopper can be. Plus Chris looked like he had never been in a fight in his life so he was shaking in his boots immediately. Security had to come to get Hopper off of him and we were all thrown out after that.

ROBIN: Yeah, we were never asked back after that not that we would’ve gone back.It was a shame for him, really, that 1984 episode of The Nightly Show with Chris Palmer was one of the most viewed episodes in the ten years he was on the air.

***

You return to your hotel room in the early hours of the morning, after having gone for celebratory drinks with Hopper and the rest of the band. Everyone had been thoroughly impressed with the way you had held your own against Chris and even previously-icy Robin seemed impressed and warmed by you.

You hadn’t had much of an opportunity to talk to Eddie throughout the night, something about the undecipherable expression he wore most of the night had left you curious and you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe hearing your entire history splayed out like that in front of him and the rest of the world had soured you and he no longer wants anything to do with you.

As you’re getting ready for bed, the ringing coming from the hotel phone jolts you.

“Hello?” You breathe out, harried and confused into the handset.

“Hey, I didn’t wake you did I?” Eddie’s concerned question statics over the line.

“No,” you respond, relief coloring your tone, “What’s going on?”

“Nothing, really, I was just thinking how hot it was when you told that dickbag off and I was wondering if you’d be up to me showing you that.”

“Showing me what, exactly?”

“Showing you how hot I think you are. If you’re up for it, of course?”

25 minutes later, with Eddie’s face buried messily in your pussy you’re near inching closer to release when you hear him muttering into the soft skin of your thigh while two of his skilled fingers begin pumping in an out of your tight heat.

“You know, if I didn’t know better, seeing you all hot and desperate to come on my fingers like this would make me think you are a minx.”

Hearing him call you that so low and growly, left you burning all over and you keen into his hands. Knowing his words had the intended effect, Eddie smirks into your thigh and speeds up his fingers.

“Only for you,” you respond once you can find your voice again.

Eddie give a low moan at this and in an instant he clamors up onto the bed and moves to replace his fingers with his dick.

“Say that again,” he challenges as he swipes his tip through your folds and you cry out.

“I’m a minx for you,” you nod along to what you’re saying, hoping that it makes him more eager to stop teasing and finally push inside you.

He does exactly as you hoped and pushes his hips into you hungrily, setting a punishing pace, “Only for me right?”

You nod along, fucked out and on the verge of coming agian, “Yes, only for you, Eddie.”

You don’t make it back to your hotel room that night either.

***

MAY 11TH, 1984–BRIDGEPORT, CT—THE UPSIDE DOWN TOUR

“Are you sure the’d still want to meet me?” You ask Steve one evening, brushing your hair standing in the doorway of the door that separated your hotel room from his.

“Yeah, of course! Why do you keep asking that? Wait… do you not want to meet them anymore? It’s okay if you don’t,” Steve is already trying to hide his disappointment.

“No,” you rush to correct as you follow the sound of his voice to the bathroom, “it’s not that at all it’s just that, well with all the Minx stuff in the news, I worry that maybe they won’t think I’m worthy of the Harrington brood or whatever.”

You’re of course referring to the drama that had followed the band’s appearance on the Chris Palmer show where Chris had given an interview to Subrosa after you had affectively embarrassed him on his own show calling the band talentless and you worthy of every bad name that the press could call you and more.

In response to the interview—and partially inspired by your encounter with Eddie following the interview— you had gotten the word ‘Minx’ embroidered on the back of your favorite suede jacket which you made sure to wear to all of your subsequent interviews and media appearances for the rest of the band’s time in New York.

“First of all,” Steve begins, rubbing shaving cream over his chin “neither of my parents would ever dream of reading a gossip magazine and even if they did, they hate Chris Palmer, always said he was too ‘blue’ whatever that means. Plus, historically, dinners with my parents haven’t been the most enjoyable affairs, so having you there would really mean a lot to me.”

You smile understandingly at him through the mirror and suddenly the whole domesticity of it all strikes you. In another life, the two of you could’ve simply been a couple discussing meeting one another’s parents in the bathroom of a shitty apartment the two of you shared.

The fantasy is interrupted abruptly by a bright cacophony of knocks at your door.

“That must be Eddie,” you explained, “he’s coming over to write.”

(He really was.)

With all the fucking the two of you had been doing, writing music had fallen to the wayside and as the end of the tour was insight and Murray’s quota of songs still not met, which meant you had to get writing.

You scramble over to your door and let Eddie in. He almost leans in for a kiss but catches himself when he notices the open door leading into Steve’s room where he is very much watching the interaction with prying eyes.

The two nod at each other in greeting. You linger in the middle between either sides the awkwardness tangible in the air. You look at Eddie’s urging eyes and then flash back to Steve whose puppy dog gaze and newly received information about his parents make you do something that is surprising even to yourself.

“Do you want to help us write, Steve?”

The situation is awkward at first, especially with the glares Eddie seems to shoot you and Steve’s shy insistence that he’s no good at writing music but eventually, after two bottles of wine, the tension subsides, at least a little.

Eddie and you had presented Steve with a few songs that were very close to done but just needed a bit more work on the melody hoping that maybe he had suggestions.

He scans over a song that Eddie had primarily written, “Wild Ride”. Steve had an idea for a rhythm that could match the song and before long, he and Eddie were fully invested, both of them bent over their guitars trying out the rhythm and shooting notes at each other. Arrangement was definitely not your strong suit, however, you were more than happy to watch the two guitarists work

Steve was fascinatingly somber when it came to writing. He would play the notes over and over again until he found what came next, treating the whole thing like a puzzle that needed to be solved and running his hands through his hair when he was particularly stuck on something. His eyes would close while he was thinking, his lashes fluttering on his cheeks and then blinking open prettily when he had finally thought of a solution.

Eddie was much less delicate and would play around with notes, sometimes scrapping what he had all together and starting new. He tucked a pen behind his ear and was constantly scribbling and crossing out. When he focused on playing, his tongue would stick out from the corner of his mouth a bit.

They worked well together, never talked over each other, and were always willing to listen to what the other had come up with. As Eddie would write notes down in his notebook, Steve would lean in really close, so they were almost cheek to cheek looking down at the paper together. It almost seemed like they’d forgotten you were there and you were too busy refining some lackluster choruses to notice.

Eventually, they hit a wall in their writing and more drinks were ordered through room service, and soon the three of you are sprawled across your bed, drinking French 75s and watching a late night marathon of “Night Court”.

“Hey Harrington, you excited to see your folks soon?” Eddie asks during a comercial break.

You turn to look and see Steve grimace at the question. You know Eddie means well in asking, but the question ruffles Steve nonetheless.

“Not really. We were never really close on account of them sending me away to boarding school when I was eleven and then when we were together my dad’s favorite pastime was criticizing me and my mom’s was drinking,” Steve says, finally, “seeing them once a year is probably the most I can stand, honestly.”

A beat of silence settles over the group before Eddie finally speaks.

“Sorry to hear that man. If it makes you feel better, my folks weren’t exactly parents of the year either,” Eddie responds.

“That sucks, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it, my uncle took me in. He’s a great guy. What about you, Princess? Were your parents the perfect image of love and support?”

You scoff. “Barely. I went back to their house right before the tour started, to get some of my things, and they thought I was breaking in and called the cops.”

“Well,” Eddie bristles, “looks like being a terrible parent can happen across all tax brackets, huh?”

“Yeah, we kinda got fucked over, a bit,” you say and the other two murmur in agreement.

The three of you stay silent for a bit, processing what had been shared and how to possibly move past such a heavy topic.

It’s Steve who finally breaks the silence, “Do you guys think Dan and Christine will ever get together?”

“Oh, yeah.” “Definitely.”

***

“This restaurant is obscenely nice,” you shift uncomfortable in your chair, taking in the surrounds and the unfamiliar unease of being somewhere where you felt out of place. Of course, you had grown up in fine dining establishments in California, but East Coast wealth seemed like a different beast entirely.

“Yeah, tell me about it,” Robin huffs next to you, “but what else can you expect from Stan and Carolyn? They’re obsessed with letting everyone know how rich they are.”

She of course, had the advantage of knowing Steve’s parents after over a decade of friendship and it made sense that Steve, wanting as much of a buffer between himself and his parents during this dinner, had invited her along as well. So far, she had only been a little hostile towards you which was a personal victory.

The two of you spot Steve entering the restaurant at the same time along with two middle-aged companions that, based off resemblance alone, you knew were his parents.

Steve’s father had the same starkly defined chin and nose as his son, but none his face didn’t turn up into a natural smile like his son. He stood stately and stern, eyes surveying the room with little interest. His wife, Steve’s mother, was made up of refined, delicate features offset by the bright eyes that were clearly passed on to her son. Her entire outfit was meticulously perfect in a way that almost seemed artificial.

Steve introduces you with fanfare and pride that you don’t consider yourself worthy of but you smile along anyway and graciously shake Mr. Harrington’s hand and exchange dotted cheek kisses with Mrs. Harrington.

You exchange niceties and think to yourself maybe they won’t be so bad.

“Stan, Carolyn, it’s so nice to see you again,” Robin grits out through a tight smile.

Carolyn pats her on the shoulder in response and says,, “Please dear, call us Mr. and Mrs. Harrington. We’re out in public after all.”

***

ROBIN: Yeah, Carolyn and Stan hated me. It was like they could smell the gay on me. Or the poor. From the moment Steve had invited me over to spend spring break with them in the Hamptons they did not like me. They despised the idea of their son’s best friend being some scholarship kid whose parents were public school teachers. However bad they were to me though, they were far worse to Steve, which is why I ever even bothered going to these lunches. I didn’t want him to have to suffer through them alone.

***

“Sorry we’re late,” Mr. Harrington drawls as the three of them take their seats at the table, “our idiotic son forgot to bring cash for the valet.” His statement is punctuated by a mirthless laugh and you can tell by the matching expressions on Steve and Robin’s faces and the way Mrs. Harrington makes a grab for the bottle of wine on the table that this level of disparagement is normal for the Harrington household. You remember the comment Steve had made a few nights ago about his father’s favorite pastime

“Don’t worry,” you respond with a smooth smile, “we’re so used to having drivers back in LA—“ a lie “—I can see why Steve forgot about valet. Although, I’m sure you both know what that’s like.”

Mr. Harrington stalled. Everyone at the table—including you—knew that the Harringtons were nowhere near wealthy enough to afford personal drivers but if there was one thing insecure men, like Stan Harrington would never do is admit that they couldn’t afford something.

You were familiar with these types of ego games from your youth, although you took no pleasure in them.

Your youth was spent tucked into your mothers skirts during luncheons and tea and fashion fittings, listening as the women would eviscerate each other with laser-edge precision. If there was anything your mother had taught you was how to sow the seeds of insecurity in someone and although it did not come naturally, you could make an exception for Stan Harrington.

***

ROBIN: It was easy to forget most of the time that she came from money but damn, the way she handled Stan that night made me think that some politician was missing out on having her as their cutthroat third wife. It was like watching an artist paint or someone do sleight of hand magic. He would say something mean about Steve and she would just turn it right back around on him but she would be smiling and batting her eyes the entire time. Even with that though, it wasn’t an easy lunch to get through.

***

“It’s so nice that Stevie was able to make something of himself through his little music,” Carolyn fawns. She means well, for the most part, but the four glasses of wine she’s downed during the last twenty minutes makes her words come out just a tad but demeaning.

Her husband sneers in response, “You say that now, Carolyn, but soon he’ll be back here asking for a spot in the firm.”

“Hopefully not too soon,” you giggle in response running a hand alongside Steve’s arm, “the studio wants us recording our second album as soon as we get back and then we’ll be touring again and we’ll need him for that.”

“But darling, you can’t possibly expect to do that for the rest of your life,” Mrs. Harrington sighs, “eventually the two of you will want to settle down and have children, live a normal life.”

“Well, yeah Mom, but that’ll be a long time down the road—“

“Making music is our life, we don’t want to ever stop—“

You and Steve halt your explanation once you realize what the other is saying. The two of you exchange blank, confused looks and it’s not until Robin says, “I’m sure that they’ll decide what their next move is when the time comes. We still have plenty of time.” That the two of you jolt back into the conversation.

“Right,” you add, “plus with the royalties deal we just secured on this new album, we will be pretty stable financially.”

The rest of the lunch is spent fielding Mr. Harrington’s questions about financials and Mrs. Harrington’s questions about grandchildren. It’s exhausting but the three of you come out mostly unscathed.

The five of you part ways outside of the restaurant, and not a moment too soon. The wave of relief that washes over the three of you once the Harringtons have been sent on their way in a taxi is palpable.

You and Robin offer to buy Steve a drink for having survived the lunch and Steve offers to buy the two of you a drink as a thank you for playing roles in that. Soon, one drink each turns into multiple rounds of drinks spent recounting all the agonizing points of the lunch.

This leaves the three of you stumbling into your hotel in the early hours of the evening, completely and utterly drunk. You ride the elevator together, a mess of laughter and then bid goodbye to one another in front of Robin’s door. She’s ready to sleep off the drinking and you do not blame her.

This leaves you and Steve to stumble back to your joint rooms together.

“You know, seeing you today having dinner with my parents and my best friend almost made the whole thing feel real,” Steve says lowly, standing in your doorway.

“Steve don’t,” you plea softly.

“I just don’t get it,” he cries in response, “we would be so good together. We are good together: we have so much in common and we just make sense, everyone thinks so except for you. Just… tell me why wouldn’t you give us a shot?”

You’re in your room now, perched on the edge of the bed , teary eyes focused on everything in the room other than the man who stands in front of you.

“Steve that’s not fair. It’s just never going to work, why can’t you accept that?”

“Because I’m in love with you,” Steve blurts out, “and I know I may not be your first choice, but if you give me a chance I will prove that I’m good enough—“

“Steve, stop please don’t say that, you’re plenty good enough for anyone,” you stand now, to face him.

“Just not you,” he says devastated.

“No, listen, it’s not like that. I just, I don’t know if I can be with someone in the way that you want me to, okay? You want someone to eventually settle down with and I’m not that girl. I’m the fucking Minx for God’s sake not someone’s future wife. In another life maybe, we could’ve made each other very happy, who knows? But in this one, I can’t be what you want.”

The two of you stand there in silence for what feels like an eternity. Finally, Steve moves, walking past you to sit in your vanity chair.

“Is there someone else you have feelings for?” He asks, timidly.

“No, no,” you insist. “I told you, I don’t do that.”

He laughs mirthlessly in response, “I think you’re wrong about that. I think you’ll find someone, maybe not now or in a year or in five years, but eventually you will find someone and they will make you want to try and you will love them and I will have to watch you fall in love with them and we will both realize I was just not worth it.”

PLAY NEXT TRACK🎤

Taglist: @rexorangecouny , @persophonekarter @mystargirl-interlude @brinleighsstuff @thegaysaretired @nothing2-see @harrysvirgogf @Prior-antidote @stardustofyesterday @buckleyverse

102 notes · View notes