#jim hopper x son!reader

[justmeinadaze]

Little Girl Gone Part 7 (Steddie X You)

Warnings: Doms Officer Steve Harrington/Gangster Eddie Munson & Sub Doctor Fem Reader, SMUT, light smacking, some degrading (whore, slut), dirty talk, etc

*inhales, exhale, shouts* ANGST! ANGST EVERYWHERE!

These three deal with time apart, Eddie is acting a bit irrational due to the last chapter, mentions of torture and death but none detailed here, Eddie does talk about a couple of his victims but they are bad people, Y/N is slightly interrogated again, mentions of Eddie's abuse from his father so child abuse trigger, lots of apologies and promises. Reader gets slightly spicy here. Cliffhanger ending (You're welcome.)

Word Count: 5259

Series here/ Donate to my Ko-Fi

“Don’t make me repeat myself.”

Eddie’s intense eyes penetrate yours, his chest rising and falling as he breathes heavily in anger.

“I am in charge of you.”

“You control me in bed, yes, but out here I am your partner to and your doctor. You need to rest, Eddie.”

Grumbling under his breath, the gangster grabs his jacket and heads for the door. 

“I can heal at my own place. I don’t need either of you getting in my way.”, he growls before stomping out of your apartment.

As you glance towards Steve, you notice his facial features harden as he silently begins to clean up the mess they both made. Once your living room was clear of any evidence of Officer Douglas, the other man pulled a pack of cigarettes you didn’t know he had, lighting the end and leaned against the back of your couch.

“Do you want me to leave to?”

“I didn’t ask him to go; he chose to. I want you both here.”

“Maybe I should leave… Maybe this was all a mistake, bringing you into this.”

“Fuck you.”, you hiss causing his head to jerk your way. “Yeah, Steven, fuck you. I just lost someone I cared about, I was attacked, and I told you both I loved you but THIS may be a mistake?! FUCK. YOU!”

Fuming, his jaw clenched as his eyes became glassy and he rose to his feet without saying another word, leaving your apartment, and slamming the front door.

***

A month later, you found yourself in a police integration room again this time completely unsure of what they were going to ask. You hadn’t heard from either man but you knew they had to have been busy from what you saw on the news. 

“Hey, Y/N.”, Detective Hopper sighed with a smile your way as he entered the room alone. “I’m sorry to be bothering you again.”

“I haven’t seen Eddie in a while so I don’t know how much help I can be.”

“You two are no longer together? Hm. Is that why Allen Munson’s associates are seemingly disappearing?”

“I don’t even want to know how you got from A to B and I still don’t understand how you became a Detective.”, you sneered. “Is that why you brought me down here? I told you that Eddie’s not a killer. Why don’t you ask the rival gangs like the Carvers or some shit?”

“Because Jason Carver and some of his men left down. We don’t know where or exactly but his father said he went on vacation. Personally, with other gangsters and police disappearing I’m not surprised.”

“Police?”

“Mhmm… we lost 3 other uniforms in the past month and upon searching their homes found some incriminating evidence that they were working for Edward’s dad. It makes me extremely nervous, Y/N, the things we’re uncovering.” Jim’s eyes scan you over as you fold into yourself and sigh. “Y/N, how well do you know Steve Harrington?”

Your head shot up as your brows furrowed at the question. 

“Your partner? He’s a dick who’s always rude to me. Why? Do you think he’s involved with Eddie’s dad?”

“Honestly, no, but I have to take into account that he’s been building a case against The Munson’s for a while and hasn’t gotten any head way in over a year. Add in some coincidences I can’t ignore like him being jumped by the Carver’s and then a week later a few of their members turn up dead. He, um, also went to you for treatment and a couple of months later you’re dating Allen Munson’s son.”

“Well, Detective, like I said…I’m amazed you’re allowed to still work cases with the conclusions you jump to. May I leave now?”

“Yes you may.”, he grumbles. “We have a car watching every move he makes so don’t do anything stupid, doctor.”

“Hm. You have a cop watching him yet you didn’t know we broke up. May want to check your intel or become a better liar.”

After collecting your things, you power walk to your car and as soon as you slam the door shut, you break as you begin to sob. A soft tap on your passenger side window made you jump before you realized it was only one of the men responsible for your broken heart. 

“What do you want, Steve?”

“Is everything ok? I didn’t know you were coming down here.”, he replied as he climbed into your vehicle. 

“Don’t worry. I always told you two I would never rat either of you out so—”

“That’s not what I meant…”, he whispered before heavily sighing. “Usually, they keep me in the loop when it comes to things involving Eddie. No one told me they were integrating you. Did someone break in again?”

“No. No one broke in or has come after me. Probably because Eddie is slaughtering them all.”, you say with distain making him flinch. “You need to tell him to be more careful, Steve. He’s being too obvious with what he’s doing.”

“Yeah, well, I haven’t talked to him in a month so it’s not like he’ll listen to me.” As your head swiveled his way, he turned to gaze out the windshield not willing to meet your eyes for fear of you seeing how hurt he really was. “I call and he doesn’t answer. I went to the compound and they told me I’m no longer welcome.”

“Steve…”

“I guess that whole year we were together and he told me he loved me was all bullshit. Especially if he can throw me away so easily.”

“He’s in a lot of pain—”

“And we’re not?”, Steve snaps. 

“You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to play victim when you left me to. I haven’t heard from you either, Steve. Why have YOU stayed away?!”

“Because it hurts too much! I love you both but what he’s involved in right now could get you killed. It almost did! You guys think I’m this big tough cop but seeing him get beaten the way he was… seeing you fucking shaking in his arms with those bruises on your neck… it kills me! I feel like I failed you both.”

As he wiped the tears he tried to hide, you did the same before turning to fully face him. 

“They, or at least Hopper, thinks you may be working for Allen.”

“What?”

“The dots he’s connected brought him to that conclusion and with the three cops that have apparently wound-up dead—”

“I guess it’s not that big of leap but, Jesus, I’m not that much of an asshole. From the research I’ve done, I think those three plus Officer Douglas were the only ones in my precinct who worked for him. He may have some guards in the prison on his side especially with how easy it was to move Gabe and Eddie around to get them in the same block.”

When you become silent, he can’t help but release a heavy sigh. 

“Thank you for telling me what they know. I’m still always working to keep you both safe.”

As he reaches for the door handle, your hand grabs his wrist. 

“I may have an idea of how we can help him and we may only have to kill one more person.”

“We?”

“I want to help, Steve. I love him to.”

#############

“Miss Y/L/N, I’m sorry but… I was told to not allow anyone that isn’t a part of his crew up to the loft especially you or Mr. Harrington here.”

“I’m not asking for permission, Marcus. We’re going up there whether he likes it or not but I was hoping we could avoid any theatrics.”, you replied with a hard tone. 

Sighing, he leaned over to call upstairs but before he could say a word you took the phone from his hand. 

“Eddie, Steve and I need to talk to you.”

“I have nothing to say to either of you and there’s nothing I want to hear.”

“You said you loved us. The least you could do is face us one more time. Or is little gangster too scared?”

His growl reverberated through the receiver before you handed it back to the gentleman who nodded and tilted his head towards the elevators. 

“Y/N, are you sure you want to do this?”

“More than ever.”

“Ok. If for any reason, you get uncomfortable or scared, tell me and I’ll—”

“Protect me. I know, Steve. Don’t worry. After the month I’ve had, I can handle anything he throws my way.”

When you both finally arrived on the top floor, you took one last long breath and entered his apartment. The smell smacked you in the face immediately, the scent of sweat, alcohol, and blood. His loft was a mess with papers and clothes thrown haphazardly everywhere. There was a chair placed in the middle of the living room with dried stains of his last victim underneath. 

What killed you was the photos strewn along his coffee table of a young Eddie with his mother with a big smile painting his face. 

The man himself was in his kitchen with a seeming calm demeanor as he poured himself another glass of whiskey. Wearing only his black sweats, you were able to see that his bruises and burns were all mostly healed.

“I see you DO listen to me sometimes when I talk.”, you start as you gesture towards his chest. 

“Is that why you’re here, doc? For a checkup? That usually doesn’t require a police escort.”

“That’s not why we’re here but it’s good to know physically you’re feeling better since you didn’t feel the need to update either of the people who love you.”

“Hm. Well, I’m busy so what the fuck do you both want?”

Steve chuckles beside you but even you can hear the pain hidden underneath. 

“Still easy to cast aside huh? Even with us right in front of you.”

“You two have each other and I have my team. You’ll survive.”

“I haven’t seen either of you in over a month.” Eddie’s demeanor falters slightly at your admission giving you slight hope you can reach the man you met before. “Steve said it was a probably a mistake bringing me into your world and like you he left. I get to watch you fall apart all by myself.”

“Is that really why you haven’t reached out to her? To keep her safe?”, the gangster asks. 

“Was I wrong? Between your fucking killing spree, detectives accusing me of working with your father—”

“What?”

“Hopper called me in today asking about the most recent deaths and then asked about Steve. The coincidences he sees drew him to that conclusion.”

“Fucking idiot.”

“I know.”, you agree with Eddie. “We want to use that to our advantage though. I was thinking Steve could make Allen believe the same thing.”

Eddie cackled at your suggestion to a mocking degree as he placed his hand on his stomach to control the laughter. 

“Oh my god, sweetheart. That is the best joke I’ve heard in a long time.”

“Why? Why would it be so unbelievable for him to work with your father?”

“So you’re going to go undercover, Stevie? You’re going to do what he asks to get him to trust you like murdering innocent people; people like Y/N.”

“I’m not innocent. Not anymore thanks to you two.”, you growl. 

“You’d be surprised what I’m capable of after finding out a year of my life was wasted on a man who didn’t fucking love me.”

Again, the gangster’s hardened image faltered, visibly so as his eye lids fluttered and he sauntered backwards to refill his drink. 

“You think I didn’t love you?”

“I haven’t heard from you, Edward. After everything I’ve done for you and you just disappear without so much as a fucking goodbye? To be honest, after what I’ve witnessed recently, working for your dad will be a piece of cake since you want to be like him.”

“That shit… doesn’t hurt me anymore. Do you know why?”, he asks as he steps closer to you both. “Because I am better than my father ever was and now everyone else will know that to. If you cross me and align yourself with him, I have an answer for that.” Eddie pulls out his gun and places it under the officer’s chin. “And if you want to go play with his team have at it but if I find you robbing one of MY buildings or killing anyone on MY team, I’ll make an example out of you to.”

It was your turn to laugh as both men glanced your way. 

“I don’t mean to laugh but it’s just so cute. Little gangster playing tough like his daddy. God, Eddie, when I first met you, you were a man to be respected. So many people were in your corner because of how you ran this city. Now you’re just this little boy pretending. You became exactly what Allen believed you were…weak.”

Stomping in your direction, his fingers wrapped around your throat as he pushed you back hard against the wall. 

“You need to shut your fucking mouth before I do it for you.”

“Yeah? Do it then.”

Something flashes through his eyes then, a mixture of the man you fell in love with and the boy wanting justice against the person who continually hurt him from childhood to now. Releasing his grip, he slowly backed away from you but right as he turned around, you placed your body in front him. 

“Come on, Eddie! You said when I met you that you and Steve had tempers that most women couldn’t handle. Well, I can, trust me. I can handle anything after what you both have put me through!”, you huffed as you shoved his chest hard. “What about you, Steve, huh? Or are you as much of a pussy as he is now?!”

The officer knew what you were doing. If you couldn’t engage the gangster, maybe, pushing his partner would entice him enough. His beautiful eyes penetrated yours and you saw the question within them. 

Are you sure?

“Please…”

As soon as the words left your mouth, his eyes darkened and you were once again confronted with the version of him you hadn’t seen since he pointed a gun in your face asking you to help the man he loved.

######################

Steve’s feet slammed loudly against the hardwood as he made a beeline your way and grabbed your throat just below your jaw. 

“You think we’re pussies, little girl?” When your head tried to turn to see if Eddie was even paying attention, the officer forcefully yanked you closer till his nose was practically touching yours. “No. Don’t look at him. Look at me. I’m asking the fucking question. I said do you think we’re pussies?” Answer. Me.”

“Yes.”, you answered roughly as you clung to his wrist. “You made me believe you loved me. You told me I was safe with you! You lied to me!”

“No.”, Eddie’s rugid tone responded beside you. “We warned you. We kill people. I kill people and don’t even think twice about it. I’m a bad man, sweetheart, raised by an even worse one. This past month I have proven to him and everyone else that I’M now above him. I’m someone to be feared. You should be afraid of me, Y/N.”

You’d be lying if you didn’t say the way he was speaking was scaring you but you tried to keep your resolve. 

“I’m not.”

“You will be.” Abruptly, he shoved you to the sofa and climbed on top of you. You fought against him, your hand connecting to his face hard before he returned the favor and pinned your wrists above your head. After pushing your legs open with his knee, he rolled his hips allowing his hardening cock to rub against your pant covered core through his sweats. 

Even with all the layers, he ground himself in just the right way to hit your clit making you groan. 

“Eddie.”

“Fuck, that’s it, little whore. Moan my name.”

Fingers appeared above you and you glanced up to see Steve leaning to lift your shirt while the gangster took the opportunity to yank off your pants blocking his way. After pushing down his sweats enough to free his length, he maneuvered up your body till he was hovering over your face. 

“Open.” You try and push against his hold on your hands but he doesn’t relent. “Open. Now.”

When you do what he commands, he mercilessly guides his cock between your parted lips. The sound of your gags mixes with his grunts as he thrusts his hips. 

“Goddamn it. That’s right, Y/N. We trained you good. Fuck. Breathe…breathe through your nose—”

When his voice cut off, you opened your eyes to see both men passionately kissing each other above you. Steve’s face softened for a moment as if he was glad to be able to taste the man he loved again before remembering everything he had been through as well. 

“Look at you, baby. Being in charge…just like your father…a ruthless killer.”

“I’m better than he—mmm—ever was.”

“Oh, yeah? Show me. Show me what better looks like.” Eddie’s palm curled around the back of Steve’s neck and in return the officer leaned his forehead against his. “Come on, honey. You’re someone to be feared now, right? Show me. You already showed me you don’t love me; that you could use me. Use me again.”

At the accusation, the gangster tackled the other man to the ground and pinned his arms to the floor as you coughed, panting trying to catch your breath. You watched as they wrestled each other before Eddie flipped him onto his stomach, reached underneath him to unbuckle his belt, and pull down his pants to his ankles. 

The sound they both made when Eddie guided his cock inside of him was a mixture of passion and pain. The pain of them missing how the other felt but the euphoria of being able to feel them again. You slid down to the floor, placing yourself beside them and tenderly ran your fingers through Steve’s hair as he moaned while the gangster slammed into him roughly. 

Eddie’s breath warmed the back of your hand as he laid down flat on the other man’s back and rolled his hips as he clung to his chest. 

“This is…who I am…Steven. Who—fuck—who I have to…be.”

The officer shook his head as his own fingers above his head squeaked as he dragged them along the floor beneath him. 

“Excuses… Y-You’re afraid.”

“What the fuck do I have to be afraid of.”, Eddie grumbled in his ear.

“…Dad.”

The gangster delivered a couple of hard thrusts that had a high-pitched whine leaving Steve’s lips. 

“I’m NOT afraid of Allen Munson.”

“No, you’re not.”, you clarified. “You’re afraid of your dad. You’re afraid of the man that hurt your mother and called you both weak. The man who sent adults after a child to jump him after school. Who hurt and tortured a little boy for not being what he deemed as perfect.”

Eddie’s rhythm slowed to almost a stop while he listened to you speak. His long hair was blocking his face but you could tell you were getting through. 

“A coward who abandoned his only son with his brother to manage a gang of men who cared even less about his child than he did.”

 A broken sob left his throat as he pushed off Steve and leaned his back against the couch. You crawled towards him, climbed into his lap, and pushed his hair back with your fingers as you kissed his forehead. 

“Baby, you’re not that same little boy. You have more control now than you think and that scares him.”, you whispered as he wrapped his arms around you and held you tightly to him. “That’s why he did what he did, Eddie. You’re stronger than he will ever be so he had to make you feel like a child again. Don’t let him win. Don’t become him.”

When Steve sat up and laid his head on the man’s shoulder, he turned and smashed his lips messily to his. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. I do love you, Steve. I never once used you or Y/N. It killed me not having either one of you next to me. I’m sorry. I love you to, Y/N.”

Steve’s hands suddenly gripped your waist as he laid you back down on the floor and ran his cock through your folds before guiding himself into your cunt. Amber eyes locked with your own when he felt ring laced hands land on his shoulder and he grunted loudly as Eddie slid into the man above you again. 

Your legs tried to wrap around them both as they pumped their hips. Steve fell against your body as his cock hit every sensitive nerve inside you, building you up as you ran your nails through his hair and down his back. 

“I’m s-sorry, honey, for—mmm—for hurting you. I love you, Y/N.”

“Cum, Steve. I need to feel it.”

His pace hastened, his ass pushing back into Eddie who groaned and his length pushing deep into you. The sound of his heavy pants in your ear had you clenching around him till you came and he quickly followed, moaning your name as he warmed your walls with his release. With a few more rough thrusts, the gangster grunted as he spilled into his partner before collapsing on the floor beside you.

As soon as Steve pulled out of you, both men’s eyes followed you as you rose to your feet and headed to the kitchen to a get a rag to clean yourself. Coming back into the living room with a bottle of water, you threw on your shirt and panties as they quietly put on their boxers. 

“So, Steve and I were thinking that he could pretend to work for your father so we could him in front of you on your own terms so to speak.”

When you spoke your tone calm but there was a shake behind it you prayed they didn’t hear. As a doctor you were trained to hold it together under pressure. This was no different. 

“You can do whatever you want; torture him, kill him, I don’t fucking care. Whatever gets him to leave us alone. After that you can stop all this chaos and I can go back to my own life.”

“Alone?”, Eddie asked.

When you didn’t responded, their gaze shifted towards you just in time to see your eyes glaze over and your bottom lip tremble. The gangster kneeled in front of you, taking your hands in his. 

“You left me… I wanted you to stay but… you left…”

“I know. I know, sweetheart and I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you; both of you. You were right. I became that little boy again and just…”

“How many people have you killed in this last month, Eddie?”

His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows in fear knowing you won’t like his answer. 

“Me personally or my team?”

“Jesus Christ.”, Steve sighs as he rubs his palms over his eyes. “My department clocked a total of 23 men. Three of them cops. How many were by your hand, Ed?”

“Eight were killed by me but I tortured them all for information.”, he answers flatly as his eyes remained locked on yours. “Those eight knew about Y/N or you, Steve. Pat Chase, a lawyer for a few of the gang members around town had pictures in his suitcase of you in your cruiser and Y/N…crying behind her clinic. Calvin Thomas, junior police officer at Steve’s station, threatened to murder a couple of your patients including that little girl with asthma. Mason Fletcher, manager at one of the local mechanic stores and a friend who I helped when his wife passed away, said when Steve’s chief sent the cars for a tune up, he planned to tamper with the brakes.”

Eddie’s jaw tightened as he continued. 

“I remember each and every one of them still. Out of those 23 people, ten of them were people I trusted and do you know who commands them? Allen Munson. This is the kind of man they follow even after everything. Y/N what you’re suggesting is very dangerous but even more so because… I don’t know if I could follow through with killing him if given the chance.”

“What if you don’t have to kill him but we can still separate him from his allies. Cut the head off the snake.”

They listen as you speak, allowing the details to sink in before agreeing with what you have in mind. Taking his hand in yours, you start to head towards the stairs to guide him to his bed but are tugged back when he doesn’t move. 

“You never answered my question. When this is over…will we be over?” When your gaze shifts to the floor, Eddie wraps his arm around your waist and brings you closer to him as he leans his forehead on your own. “I understand if you want to leave but if you stay, Y/N, I promise I will do whatever it takes to make sure you never feel alone or hurt like that again. I love you so much. I’m so sorry.”

Your lips meet his as hug him tightly to your body while he continues to whisper apologies. 

“I’ll stay, Eddie. I forgive you.”

After the gangster prepared a bath and slowly placed you in the water, he paused when he noticed Steve’s moving was a bit more rigid than he normally is. Rising to his feet, he scanned the man over. 

“Steve, are you ok, sweetheart? Did I…was I…too rough?”

Shaking his head, the officer carefully climbed in behind you before taking you in his arms and pulling you against his chest. 

“I forgive you to, Steve Harrington.”, you murmur as you lean back to kiss his cheek. 

Placing a finger under his chin, Eddie tilts his head till Steve’s eyes meet his. 

“I’m sorry, baby. I—”

“It’s ok, honey. I’m just…sore…and tired. I missed you both.” 

The three of you sat there in silence fully absorbing the events of the last month and how things were about to get a lot harder. As you were being dried, your fingers ran over Eddie’s remaining bruises and burns.

“I’ve still been doing what you said, keeping the wounds iced and clean.”

“They look a lot better.”

Steve passed by you both and placed himself on the edge of the bed as he pulled his shirt over his head. The other man kneeled in front of him and took his hands into his own. 

“My Paladin. You do so much for me and yet I pushed you to the side. This past year, I’ve been the happiest I’ve ever been and not because you help me with my organization but because you loved me for me, Steve. You don’t see a gangster or a Munson. You always saw Eddie.”

The officer’s eyes water as a heavy breath escapes him. 

“This will never happen again, baby. I promise.”, the other man coos as he straddles his lap and circles his arms around him and you watch with a small smile while they cling to each other. “I love you. I missed you so much.”

“I missed you to, nerd.”

When they finally detached, they laid down in bed, reaching for you and putting you between them. 

“Are you sure you want to go through with your plan, Y/N? It’s not going to be easy…for you or Steve.”

You nod as you tenderly reach out to caress his face and fold the officer’s hand that’s resting on your hip. 

“I’m sure.”

########################

Three Days Later

Allen grunts in frustration as he steps up to the glass partition and throws his body into the chair across from the man he believes to be his son’s best friend. 

“Mr. Harrington, how can I help you today? Any friend of my son is no friend of mine.”, he says all too casually as he chuckles under his breath. 

“Yeah, well, I’m not your son’s friend anymore.”, Steve growled in anger. “He took something that belonged to me. I warned him but that fucker didn’t care.”

“Oh? What did he take?”

“Y/N.”

Allen’s eyes widened in amusement as he crossed his legs and leaned back in his chair. 

“Jesus. This woman must be fucking special. How did she end up with him and not you?”

“I saw her first when she helped me at her clinic. After Eddie was hurt, I took him there so she could help him to. I didn’t expect it to become romantic. I told that fucker I loved her and she was mine but he still went after her. I did everything I could to split them up but, unfortunately, she’s loyal.”

“Hm. Sounds like my wife; weak. So what exactly do you want, officer?”

“It’s not so much what I want but what you do. I want to help you take Eddie out of the game.”

Allen laughed as well as a few of the guards who could hear the conversation. 

“You want to help me? Why don’t you just arrest him again and bring him in?”

“On what? All the charges we have aren’t sticking and even though he’s running around killing your people, he’s not leaving anything incriminating behind.” At Steve’s mention of the men he was losing, the prisoner grumbled low as he glared at him. “He’s going to keep coming at you till either all your people are dead or he is. I can help you, Allen.”

The man thinks for a long moment before smirking his way. 

“How do I know I can trust you? How do I know this isn’t something my son conjured up.”

“Well, one, Eddie isn’t that fucking smart and two, I did something you haven’t been able to in almost 2 months.”

“Yeah, Harrington, and what’s that?”

“I killed Y/N.”

Allen’s head tilts as he tries to hide his shock at the officer’s statement as the other man smirks his way. 

“How’d you do that?”

“I slit her throat in his apartment.”, Steve answered as his smile grew. “You should have heard the way Eddie cried over her. That’s what that selfish asshole gets. She was mine.”

No longer amused, the prisoner leaned on his elbows and met the officer’s angry expression with one of his own. 

“I don’t believe you.”

A loud thump filled the area as Steve smacked a Polaroid picture against the glass. 

“I thought you might say that. She’s buried next to his mother if you want to go look. Oh wait…”, he teases sarcastically as he gestures to the prison. 

Loud shouting startles the guards as a door flies open just in time for Eddie’s father to see them tackling Wayne to the ground. 

“What the fuck did you do, Allen!? She was a good woman and you took her away from him! You fucking asshole! Get off me!”

“Self-righteous prick.” Allen thinks for a moment as he fully takes in the man in front of him. “Ok, Steven. Ok, I may have some use for you.”

###################

@5tud10-54r4h @munsonzgf @eddiesguitarskills @supraveng

@lilaclazer @ima1986 @micheledawn1975 @foreverminliv @corkadymu

@lemme-slytherin-that-dick @joannamuns9n @dashingdeb16 @sashaphantomhive @corrodedcoffincumslut @aactuaaltraash @nailbatanddungeon 

[lovebugism]

i am so sorry but reader talking about robin right before making out with eddie is like absolutely the best thing i’ve ever read i’m obsessed i genuinely can’t wait for anything else in that universe that you do

THE CUSTOMER'S ALWAYS RIGHT | god help the girl

summary: in which you come to terms with the fact that you're hopelessly in love with eddie munson. pairing: virgin!eddie munson x reader word count: 13k warning: phone sex, more discussions of shitty boyfriends, j*son c*rver name drop, talks of unhealthy eating practices, smut 18+ mdni! a/n: this ask has been sitting in my inbox for ages now, but i wanted to save it until robin made an appearance in the series! thank you, anon, for being so sweet! and for the few of you who've been waiting on me to finally post <3 hope you enjoy! xoxo

( PREVIOUSLY ) | ( SERIES MASTERLIST ) | ( NEXT )

They only met once, but it changed their lives forever. 

That’s what the movie cover reads at least, but the words have long blurred into a jumbled mess at your tunnel vision. John Bender stares you in the face, but all you see is Eddie — boyish and brazen and scowling because he thinks it makes him look intimidating, but nowhere near as cruel as he seems. 

He’s certainly got the hair for it, much longer and curls far wilder than Judd Nelson’s measly set of brushed-back locks. He’s got the terribly animated personality down pat, too; the one that either makes you laugh uncontrollably or squirm in discomfort when it’s pointed your way. And the style’s a pretty fine match also, though you’d argue that no one sports a leather jacket quite like Eddie Munson does.

Wallowing in your boredom at the empty Family Video store on Main Street — where your best friends slave over mundane work with aching backs and a lingering sense of gratefulness that no customer has been in in well over an hour — you find yourself analyzing each character pictured on the front cover of The Breakfast Club.

Robin would surely be Allison, you conclude rather quickly, because their deadpanned glowers are eerily identical. They’ve also got this sort of atypical aura to them, too, like a dark storm cloud or the promise of a long night. But strangely it sparkles — strikes of lightning or a sky full of stars. It draws everyone’s attention to them; even when they’re desperately trying to hide in the very back of a room.

And Steve would be Andrew, not particularly because of his affections for this Allison-Reynolds-Robin-Buckley hybrid you’ve concocted, but because "popular guy with daddy issues" is a trope that fits him far too well. He’s way more likely to get detention for trying to look cool in front of his assholes friends than for anything actually malicious of heart. But that would’ve been years ago now. He’s not that kind of guy anymore. 

He’s soft and sweet — a Brian Johnson sort of soft and sweet, if you will. If Brian wasn’t the brains, but the sweetest dumbass anyone’s ever met.

You realize then, that Jim Hopper would make a mean Richard Vernon. He’s impatient to a fault, almost too stern at times, but never enough to make you genuinely fearful of him. You’ve found that it’s virtually impossible for you to take him seriously when he’s so cartoonishly angry. It’s a match made in heaven, you find, though Jim might take offense to the comparison.

And if Eddie is Bender, then that’d make you the Claire Standish of the bunch.

She’s dreadfully stylish, a bit stuck-up at times, and perhaps a little bit more spoiled than the average person; but it’s not like she ever claimed to be perfect. And you wouldn’t either.

You’ll take more pride in your wardrobe filled with pretty pleated skirts and flouncy dresses than your somewhat glacial disposition. And you might not be drowning in daddy’s money, but you’re certainly spoiled in other ways — if only in the employee discount at Enzo’s that got you wine for cheap and your connections at Family Video that meant free movie nights whenever you wanted.

The bad boy and the princess was a tale as old as time itself. It’s a fairytale you wouldn’t mind living in if it ended how it did in the movies — with a kiss on the cheek and an exchanged diamond earring in the calloused palm of another. A soft pink smile and a celebratory fist in the air.

But you’ve met your fair share of John Bender’s and none of them had been particularly kind to you, let alone had fallen in love with you. 

Maybe that’s because you were no Claire Standish. Never pretty enough, never mousy enough, never pure enough.  You try and dissect why you’ve never been successfully loved, and all the signs point to you, you, you.

You hope Eddie’s different. You need Eddie to be different.

“Something’s wrong with me,” you blurt out of nowhere.

Well, it’s not totally out of the blue for you. You’d been stewing over that thought since you got there — since you left the woods with damp underwear and the scent of you on Eddie’s fingers.

But to Steve and Robin, who’d stayed relatively silent and locked eyes only once after they noticed how abnormally hushed you’d gone, it catches them quite off guard.

Steve lifts his heavy head from where he mans the counter. His tired eyes leave the computerized catalog for the first time in forty minutes, and he has to rub at them with the bottom of his palms to see you properly. Meanwhile, Robin crouches at your side, taking returned tapes from the bin sitting next to her and placing them back upon the shelf you lean against. 

She blinks up at you, deep ocean eyes swimming with apprehension, like she can sense the spiral you’ve just about twisted yourself into.

“What do you mean?” she wonders, ever the supportive best friend, as she plucks Heather’s, Pretty in Pink, and Weird Science from the bin and sets them onto their assigned rows in the Teen Drama section.

“Eddie won’t fuck me.”

Neither of them is particularly stunned by the unabashed nature of your admission.

Not only have they both fucked you at one point or another, but they’re your best friends — no one’s ever going to know you quite the way they do. It leaves little left unsaid between the three of you, with secrets you’ve all sworn to take to your graves. Steve once stuck a finger in his ass to see if he liked it (he did) and Robin sometimes gets off on her childhood teddy bear (rather ironically named Mr. Snuggles). 

So this? This was nothing. Especially in comparison to all the other shit you’ve confessed to them because god knows the whore of Hawkins has a plethora of stories to tell.

Steve is more shocked by the name that leaves your mouth than anything else. “Eddie Munson?” he repeats with furrowed brows, like he had to have heard you wrong.

You bring your chin to your right shoulder to look at him, then nod.

“Eddie… The Freak… Munson?”

You nod again, slower for him this time.

“You wanna fuck… Eddie Munson?” Steve reiterates once more, as though the idea was too appalling to be true. “Eddie Munson — The Freak?”

“Yes, Steve,” you huff in irritation.

His face contorts into a puppy-like confusion. A frown settles between his bushy brows and he cocks his head to the side, nose scrunching and his lip quirking slightly. He couldn’t look more disgusted if he tried.

“…Why?”

You groan and tilt your head back dramatically. “That’s not what’s important here, Steve. The better question is why won’t he fuck me?”

The boy’s lack of any actual assistance doesn’t surprise Robin in the slightest — his dumbfounded gaze and innate confusion are actually pretty on brand. It just puts all the burden on her, to help you wriggle out of the mess you’d tangled yourself into. 

It’s not like she isn’t used to it, though, nor does she mind doing it for you. She walks you through your emotions like a professional, squashing out all the burning orange embers for you before they have the chance to burst into flames.

“Well, what do you mean he won’t fuck you? Like… did he actually say that or does he just wanna, you know, take things slow?”

The latter would’ve been way too easy. Eddie’s always been nice enough to you. It’d make sense for him to want to stay unhurried and gentle with you, but those words weren’t exactly in your vocabulary. 

The first time you were alone with him, you were getting yourself off on his thigh after making him come in his jeans. The next time you saw him, after four days of him clinging to your consciousness, there wasn’t as much small talk so much as there were two of his fingers stuffed knuckle-deep inside of you.

You don’t know Eddie’s birthday, but you know how he likes to be touched — squeezed and not rubbed. You don’t know his middle name or how he likes his eggs in the morning or what his relationship with his mother is like, but he’s already made you come. Twice.

You are completely, utterly, and totally incapable of taking things slow. So it wasn’t that. It couldn’t be. So it had to be the other thing. The very scary, terrifying, boogeyman of a thing.

“I mean, I offered to give him a blowjob and he completely turned me down,” you lament in reply.

Robin and Steve wince. Like, physically wince. Their faces scrunch and their heads flinch from something invisible. Audible ooh’s fall from their mouths without them even realizing it, because you don’t get rejected. Ever. Especially not after offering to pleasure someone without much of anything in return.

They don’t mean to react the way they do. The visible shock that coats their features is involuntary more than it is anything, and it only adds to your fears.

“Exactly!” you exclaim.

“I hate to say it, but I think hell might be freezing over as we speak,” Steve half-jokes.

“Well, he was working, right?” Robin asks with raised brows. “Maybe he was just busy.”

“Sorry, Rob, but no guy’s too busy for a blowjob.”

“Real charming, Stevie.”

“Maybe he just has a small dick,” the boy concludes with a shrug.

“I felt his dick,” you shake your head almost immediately. The feeling of Eddie’s hard cock through his denim jeans, all rough and warm against your palm, hasn’t yet left you. “It’s not small.”

“Well, maybe he can’t get it up—”

“Yeah, that’s not a problem either.”

Eddie was rock hard when you left him, throbbing and aching and obviously needing some kind of relief. That’s partly why you’d been so ardent to return the favor, though the other half of it was purely selfish — you haven’t seen a more beautiful sight than Eddie Munson getting off. To deprive yourself of that masterpiece made you feel like you were starving.

You have a hard time imagining the raging hard-on just… dissipating after you’d left him. That means he probably jerked off in the back of his van and you missed it. And if he came, right after he promised everything was okay, that means he just didn’t want you to do it… right?

Steve seems to be caught in the same inner turmoil you’re currently stuck in; and for good reason. In all the years he’s known you, he can count on one hand how many times he’s had to turn you down. And every time, it was because he’d gotten back together with Nancy. It was never because of you. Not once. And sometimes he felt like it hurt him as much as it did you. 

As far as Steve’s concerned, you’re so out of Eddie Munson’s league that you’re not even in his fucking orbit — so the freak show, turning you down, doesn’t make whole lot of sense to him.

“Huh…”

“It’s me. It’s definitely me,” you conclude with the shake of your head. A bitter, almost hysterical laugh spills from your lips. “He thinks I’m fucking ugly or disgusting or something. It’s totally fucking me—”  

Robin completely abandons her basket of tapes then. She rises to stand in front of you, looking timid as she does so. Her raised brows form wrinkles on her freckled forehead and her blue eyes widen to reveal more of the whites of them. She looks like she’s approaching a wild animal. A bomb that’s about to explode.

“Okay… You’re starting to spiral, alright? So let’s just try and take a few deep breaths—”

You don’t listen to her. 

Actually, you do quite the opposite, as you begin to blurt every fleeting thought that crosses your mind.

“I’ve made out with nearly everyone in this stupid town— I’m pretty sure I’ve fucked almost half— and you’d think Eddie would wanna take advantage of that, the way everyone makes him out to be some sort of freak, right? But he hasn’t and at this rate, he won’t, and I just don’t understand why,” you ramble without taking in a single breath. “Usually being a slut is a huge turn-on for guys, you know? But what if Eddie thinks it’s gross? I mean, it is gross— I’m gross—”

You only stop for air when Robin takes your shoulders in both hands. She looks less apprehensive and more stern, as she forces you to look at her.

“Look. I love you, but you need to get a hold of yourself, alright? I know you’re not used to being told no, and I know how much it sucks, but shit happens. I’m willing to bet all the money I’ve ever seen that whatever is going on with Eddie has nothing to do with you, okay? And if it’s making you this upset, maybe you should just talk to him.”

“But I don’t wanna seem like I’m too eager, that’s gross—”

“Then find someone else to fuck,” she offers with her signature Robin Buckley half-smile. “I’m sure it would take you less than five minutes to find a willing participant.”

“Yeah, right here,” Steve jokes from the counter with the pathetic wave of his hand and a dumb grin on his lips. 

You don’t hear him over the voices in your head — half calling you crazy for letting a boy drive you this mad over nothing, and the other half bitterly affirming each of your deep-rooted insecurities.

Your face screws up, like the thought of being with anyone other than Eddie upsets you — it does upset you.

“I don’t want anyone else.”

“Then what do you want?” Robin yells in your face, shaking you by your shoulders.

“I want Eddie!” you shout back without thinking. The words seem to spill out of nowhere. It takes you of all people by surprise. No one in this rat trap town would ever expect the whore of Hawkins to want to settle down, least of all the harlot herself. It’s strange; it’s riveting; it’s really fucking scary. “…Fuck.”

The brunette smirks, proud of herself. “Well. There’s your answer.”

“I hate when you’re right,” you mumble to yourself, pouting as she crouches back down again.

“I know.”

It was a terrifying thought, to know that you were head over heels for someone else. You try to come to terms with what that means. 

Sometimes you think you fall in love with a new person every day. A cute guy holds the door open for you, a pretty girl compliments your outfit — they never think about you again, but they’re on your mind for days. It was so easy to develop such meaningless infatuations, especially when you were bored.

But Eddie was different.

He was a nice guy. A nice guy that was sweet to you just for the sake of being sweet to you; not because he secretly wanted something in return. That made you fall for him at first, but then you just… kept on falling. Eddie Munson was an infinite void you couldn’t crawl your way out of even if you wanted to, even if you tried.

And that’s what frightened you the most.

Because if you really thought about it, you’ve only truly been in love a handful of times. And, sure, it didn’t work out — that was normal — but some of them fucking ruined you. 

You’re still trying to figure out who you are without all of the people that have broken your heart. You’re still fighting like hell every day to recognize the person you see in the mirror, while Billy Hargrove fucks off with a new girl every other week like he didn’t totally destroy you.

But, even still, Eddie was completely different. No one’s ever made you feel the way he makes you feel. And it’s more than the stupid heavy petting — it’s more than anything. It’s never been like this before; not even with the blonde mulleted asshole who ripped your heart to shreds. 

And you’re scared that if you get hurt again, you’ll never be able to come back from it.

“Steve, do you have another copy of Fast Times in the back?” you suddenly ask the boy, tossing him a look over your shoulder.

It’s your last ditch effort to rid yourself of the ponderous, gray doom and gloom surrounding you like some storm cloud. Your comfort movie solves all of your problems — or, at the very least, Phoebe Cates does — but it seems everyone else in town has developed a similar fondness for minute fifty-three of the film and got all the tapes off the shelf before you could get your hands on one.

“You know I keep on in stock for you,” he answers quietly.

He reaches below the counter to pull out a spare copy for you, and your heart swells with the rays of a thousand rising suns and the songs of every morning bird.

Steve told you some time ago that he could change. And back then, all it did was piss you off, because he didn’t want to change for the town slut — for the girl he put through the goddamn ringer. He wanted to change for Nancy. The princess bruised his brittle ego a little, and then he realized what an asshole he’d been to everyone, to you.

But as angry as it made you, you never believed him. “Once the King of Hawkins High, always the King of Hawkins High,” you remarked bitterly.

You wouldn’t say it to his face, for the sake of keeping his ego from inflating all over again, but you could tell he was really changing.

He was kinder, he was softer. He stopped caring about what everyone thought about him, about what not caring would do to his reputation, and started giving a fuck about the people worth giving a fuck about. 

Apparently, you were one of them.

“…Really?”

He nods with a subtle shrug. Like it was no big deal. Like it wasn’t one of the sweetest things he’d ever done for you — keeping your favorite movie on hand so you’ll always have a spare, knowing that it’s the only thing that gets you out of a deep, dark funk sometimes.

“Stevie… You’re gonna make me blush,” you lilt with a grin as you saunter over to him, hands innocently laced behind your back. “You need to be careful, Harrington. I’m gonna start to think you actually like me.”

He scoffs. “I do like you.”

“Yeah, when it’s convenient.”

It’s obvious your joke hits him where it hurts. It serves as a bitter reminder of the asshole he used to be, the douchebag he’s trying like hell to grow out of. He looks up at you with a sheepish, honey-tinted gaze before ducking away again.

A year or more ago it would’ve made you feel good, to know that you hurt him just a fraction of the way he hurt you. But you know that that isn’t the same man standing in front of you now, that he’d rather die than make hurt your feelings, and it makes you feel like shit for saying it in the first place. 

“Sorry,” you apologize with a scrunched nose. The palms of your hands dig into the edges of the counter as you lean against it. Your shrug. “It just kinda came out…”

The barcode scanner in his hand beeps as he passes the thing over the back of the tape — never charging you, just getting the movie out of the database.

“So, uh…” he starts before clearing his throat. He focuses his gaze on the computer and types on the bulky keyboard with the tip of his pointer finger. “You really like this Eddie guy, huh?”

“Maybe. I think so.”

“And he’s not, like… a total freak or anything?”

You can’t tell if he’s trying to look out for you or if he just wants intel on what it’s like trying (and failing) to bang the local weirdo. Either way, it makes a smile tug slow at your lips as you joke: “Not in the way everyone thinks.”

“Jesus,” he winces at the obscenity of your words.

“Sorry,” you apologize again, though the laugh that bubbles from your lips after cancels out any hint of actual sincerity. “You don’t need to give me the talk or anything, Steve. I can take care of myself.”

“…Can you?” he half-jokes.

It makes you falter. “Well… With you and Robin and Hopper constantly on my ass, then yeah.”

“Just don’t want you to get hurt,” Steve finally admits, soft and suddenly shy as he hands the VHS over to you.

“That’s rich coming from you—”

He jerks back the tape before you can take it from him, leaving your hand reaching for thin air. His cinnamon eyes glimmer with a foreign seriousness, not completely unkind, but lacking their usual blithe. “That’s why I’m saying it. I just… I want you to be okay.”

Steve is one of the rare ones, you conclude right then in there — in the liminal emptiness of Family Video, beneath fluorescent lights that cast sharp shadows upon his already chiseled features. He was a mythical creature of a man, one who breaks your heart and does everything in his power to mend it again.

He hasn’t forgotten about what he did to you, not like Billy did, and he won’t. Not ever. He saw what he did to you and he never moved on from it, just matured enough to make sure it never happened again. And he won’t let another unworthy douchebag hurt you like he did. Not if he can help it, at least.

And he did try to warn you about Hargrove, to be fair. You were just the dumbass that didn’t listen.

“Well, me and my Phoebe Cates wet dream are golden, Pony Boy,” you promise. He hands you the tape again and lets you snatch it from his grip this time. “Don’t worry your pretty little head, Stevie.”

Steve Harrington was right. 

The fleeting thought flashes across your mind for half a second, and you quickly realize that those words have never been uttered in the same sentence before now. But he wasn’t wrong in what he’d said about you, just before you left — you were completely, totally, absolutely, and implicitly unable to take care of yourself.

You nearly passed out in the bathroom after taking the hottest shower of your life, feeling too woozy to slap on anything other than moisturizer because you failed to remember to actually eat something that day. It wasn’t totally your fault, though; if anything, it was because of Eddie and all the butterflies he’d given you that made food the very last thing on your mind.

You half-heartedly dry yourself off, keeping your hair in a towel, while you slip on a cotton set of underwear you’ve had for way longer than what's likely acceptable. Damp and half-naked, you prance into the kitchen to fix Bowie her bowl of dinner before you feed yourself.

You fork a can of wet food onto a flower-shaped plate and let her eat on the counter — because you’re an adult now, and you can do that sort of thing.

The calico purrs while she feasts, but your stomach thunders with negligence. You peek into your mostly bare refrigerator and make a mental note to go grocery shopping when you get paid next week. 

With a lack of food and an even lesser will to cook something, you settle for the half-eaten chocolate bar you keep stashed in the very back of the fridge; kept only for the most special of occasions — when you’re reveling in your loneliness and trying to convince yourself that you can make it on your own.

It was practically the size of your forearm when you first bought the thing at some too expensive candy store in the city. Now it’s no bigger than your hand.

You eat the thing in bed, even though you know you’ll get crumbs everywhere and that it’ll make sleep agonizing for you — if you get any, that is. You’re bound to feel like a total zombie by the time the sun rises and the late-night sweet will likely make its appearance on your skin by then, in a red and raging blemish of a consequence.

You’ll feel empty and starved and surly, a snapping grouch instead of an actual person, until you get some actual food in your system.

And you’re more than aware of all of these things, but you don’t do a single damn thing about them.

You’re nothing but a sulking lump upon an unmade bed, lying in a pitch-black darkness that’s evaded only by the static-y television across your room, trying your best to pretend like you aren’t waiting for Eddie’s phone call. It’s hard to remember to forget him, though, when the movie you’re watching is practically a feature film of him and all the ways he makes you feel.

Spicoli and his terribly inebriated friends slur as they chorus “No shoes, no shirt, no diiiice” and you swear you can feel Eddie’s shoulder bump softly against yours as he laughs, hear every sound of his melodic chuckle in your ear that made you giggle right along with him. The low bass of Moving in Stereo plays in the otherwise empty silence of your bedroom, and every beat feels like the rhythm of your thrusts against his thigh.

Eddie Munson is all-consuming.

Even the thought of him feels physical.

Phoebe Cates all but undresses herself in front of you, but you’re stuck thinking about some guy who lives in a trailer park across town, deals drugs for a living, and can’t graduate high school. You’re a total fucking goner.

Your eyes flutter shut, and instead of the backs of your eyelids, you see Eddie’s trailer. Your lips start to tingle as they kiss his for the first time — hungry, yearning, needing. His thigh is pressed snugly into your cunt, denim jeans rough against your soft cotton panties, and you have to bite back a moan when he tenses every time you squeeze his hard, covered cock.

You can feel it, all of him, like he were here with you now. 

You wish that he were.

His fingers would feel far better, leave far more sparks of electricity in your belly, than the ones as you sneak through the hem of your underwear.

You try and take things slow with yourself, to be as gentle as he had been with you earlier in the woods, but it feels strange to treat yourself with so much tenderness. To touch your pussy like it’s the first time it’s ever been touched. Like it’s a beautiful thing you need to be sweet to.

Maybe you find it so foreign to be careful with yourself because no one has ever been careful with you.

No one, except for Eddie.

Your touch doesn’t rival his. It doesn’t even come close.

No matter how tightly you squeeze your eyes shut or how hard you try to pretend that they’re his fingers inside of you, you can’t make yourself feel as good as he did.

Your fingers aren’t as rough as his guitar-string-scarred ones and they don’t caress your clit with the same methodical care. They don’t fill you quite the same either, nowhere near as satisfying as his much thicker ones.

And you’re no stranger to masturbation, not by any means. Sometimes it’s the only way you can guarantee an orgasm for yourself when you’ve got a partner who cares so little about your own pleasure. But Eddie was different. Eddie cared — so much so, that he’s gotten more orgasms out of you than you’ve gotten from him, which is something you’ve never said about anyone else you’ve been with.

It’s rare and unfamiliar, a bouquet of all things refreshing and terrifying and strange, tied together with a pretty little ribbon.

You know that you can make yourself come. It’ll just take way too long to actually be worthwhile and won’t be nearly as mind-blowing as you need it to be. You won’t be left with trembling thighs and nearly numb legs — just a pitiful excuse for an orgasm that you could get from any one of your exes with half as much work.

What you need is Eddie. 

And you hate that. You hate how much you need him and you’re terrified of what that means.

As far as precedent goes, right when you start needing someone is usually when they start to leave. It’s like fucking clockwork most of the time — like everyone knows that you’re a ticking time bomb and eventually it gets too risky to stand too close to you. 

You’ll just have to keep Eddie at arm's distance. So he won’t see the grenade that you are.

You pull your fingers out of your wanting cunt, still slick and throbbing with a need that you can’t give it, when the phone rings.

The high-pitched shrill in the quiet makes you tense like it’s the first time you’ve ever heard the damn thing. Your breath catches in your throat, first out of fright and then at the inclination of who waits for you on the other line.

Suddenly, you’re scrambling to collect yourself. As though there was any possibility that Eddie might be able to see you through the phone line.

You wipe your wet fingers haphazardly on the cotton of your underwear and sit up straighter from your ungracefully lazed position. Then you count to five — one mississippi… two mississippi… three — so Eddie won’t think you’re some kind of crazy person who doesn’t have anything better to do than wait for his call. 

So he won’t know that’s exactly what you are.

You lift the ruby red rotary from its hook at your bedside table and stretch the corkscrew cord to press it to your ear. “…Hello?”

“Yeah, hi. I’d like to order a pizza. Half pepperoni, half hawaiian.”

You roll your eyes at his dumb joke, even though the familiarity of his voice makes you smile. It warms you like a home-cooked meal, like you were high-pitched and starving before and now you’re on the soothing comedown of finally being satiated.

“Yeah, sorry, we’re closed.”

“Then why’d you pick up the phone, huh?” he teases back. You swear you can hear the grin in his voice. You didn’t know a smile could be so audible. It makes you wonder if he can hear yours — if you’re doing a real shit job at pretending. You anxiously twirl the cord with the pointer finger of your free hand.

“Because I’ve been waiting for you to call me all night, dummy.” 

Your answer is more honest than either of you were expecting. 

Eddie’s sigh crackles through the shoddy reception. “Yeah. Sorry ‘bout that, sweetheart. I’ve been working all night. I only got home, like, five minutes ago.”

You can hear the heavy exhaustion in his voice. “Rough day?”

“Kinda,” he answers with a shrug. You can hear the grating squeak of his mattress as he plops down onto his bed. “I dealt to one of Jason’s goons today… They always give me a hard time.”

“I’m sorry,” is all you can think to answer. 

Eddie’s been the brunt of every joke since seventh grade — people made fun of too big clothes, his too wild hair, his too loud music. But he took it all in stride, laughing with everyone else before volleying a harsher joke back in response. You almost started to think that he liked it. That, somewhere deep down, he was fond of all the attention he got from people who supposedly couldn’t stand him.

But it hurts to know that it hurts him.

“Don’t apologize. It’s not like you did anything,” he assures with a soft laugh. He makes the bold decision to be honest then, too. “You, uh… You made my day a whole lot better, actually.”

You don’t know if he’s talking about the brief fling in the woods or the phone call you’re sharing now or if you particularly care either way. Your heart flutters like it’s been kissed by the wings of a butterfly.

“Really?”

“Yeah. I mean… I don’t know— I couldn’t stop thinking about you, you know. And, knowing that I was gonna get to talk to you again kinda got me through the day, I guess… And, yes, I am fully aware of how lame that sounds, but—”

You don’t get to hear the rest of his excuse, of why what he just told you totally isn’t lame, because you’re covering the receiver with your palm and turning to squeal into your pillow. A far more pathetic sight, in your humble opinion.

There hasn’t been a more fulfilling feeling than this one, to know that he’s been feeling the same way you’ve been feeling about him this whole time. It’s better than all the orgasms he could give you combined, to be loved so wholly.

“…You okay?” you hear his muffled voice ask after you’ve gone suddenly AWOL.

You press the phone back to your ear and nod like he can see you. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m good. The phone… fell— you said you just got home?”

“Uh, yeah. I met with Hellfire for a bit at school. We’re almost at the end of the Cult of Vecna, so they’re kinda on my ass about it. The little shits are obsessed.”

“Well, they should be. It’s a really good campaign, Eds.”

“Thanks to you,” he mutters. You can almost picture the glimmer in his button eyes and the shaky half-smirk he always looks at you with when he gets all shy.

“That was all you, Eddie Spaghetti,” you retort. “I still have no idea how you did it.”

“Did what?” he wonders, chuckling a bit at the nickname.

“Make something so beautiful out of thin air.”

Lying in the depths of his bedroom, blanketed by the darkness and bathing in streams of moonlight, Eddie feels his breath catch in his throat. 

For the first time in his life, he doesn’t have a joke to spew out on the spot. He’s speechless, just for a moment, a quick blink of a second, with nothing to say. Because, if he really thinks about it, that’s sort of what happened with you.

You were just his customer and he was just your dealer.

You were a loyal client and then a girl way out of his league that he developed a too big a crush on. Then you made him come in his underwear and washed the sticky stains out of the denim for him. Now you’re on the phone with him. You let him tell you all about his shitty day and apologize like you weren’t the only good thing about it — like you aren’t the only good thing, period.

It’s not the most cliche love story, nor is it the most beautiful, but it has his cynical little heart beating like the wings of a hummingbird.

Then, when all the mushy mess fades like fog, he finally thinks of something to say.

“It’s the witchcraft, sweetheart,” he shrugs to himself. “Didn’t you hear? I’m a devil-worshipping freak.”

“You know that’s not it, Eds,” you retort with the roll of your eyes.

You know that it’s hard, to be a metalhead from the wrong side of the tracks in the eighties — at the height of the Satanic Panic and all the delusional craze. That shit’s followed him since freshman year. Even still, it nips at his ankles like rabid dogs.

Maybe you were never naive or bored enough to believe all the rumors, but Eddie Munson was always more than that to you.

“No?”

“You can blame it on being a freak show all you want, but I know it’s because you’re one of the funniest, smartest, most creative guys I’ve ever met—”

“You must not know a ton of guys then, sweetheart,” he interjects playfully, like he couldn’t stand to hear you compliment him any longer. You’d give anything to see his blushing cheeks just now.

“…You’re kidding right?” you giggle in response.

“Sorry— that’s— I didn’t mean it like— It was— I was joking,” he stammers, frightened that he might’ve offended you in some way. 

It only makes you laugh harder. Both of you know you lost count of all the guys you ‘know’ a long, long time ago. You do imagine it’s somewhere near ‘a ton’, though.

“I know, Eds,” you assure with a contented sigh. “I was just teasing.”

“Oh.”

“The slut and the freak… Who would’ve thought?” you wonder all dreamily, like it’s a fairytale as old as time itself. That’s what it feels like, sometimes.

Eddie isn’t sure what you mean — who would’ve thought you’d be friends? Two people caught in that in-between stage of platonic and romance that’s complete agony and total, total bliss? A couple of kids falling in love—

“It’s sort of kismet, huh?” he answers.

“I think so.”

“So, uh… What are you up to?” Eddie wonders then, equal parts curious and eager to keep the discussion going. He’s frightened any lapse in conversation is going to lead to saying goodbye. 

He wants to stay on for hours, until both of you are fighting to stay awake, and then listen to the sound of your heavy breathing when you inevitably lose — like that isn’t the creepiest thing anyone’s ever wanted. He’ll fight Wayne about the bill if it comes to that, he doesn’t care, he just never wants to stop being this close to you.

“Do you want the real answer or the fake one?”

“Uh… Both?”

“Well, I’d say I was doing something super productive with my night, you know, catching up on all the boring adult shit, but then I’d be lying. And I don’t wanna lie to you, Eds,” you tell him with a teasing lilt playing at the edge of your voice.

Eddie swallows thickly, fearing he’d somehow been caught in his own lie — or rather, his half-truth. He moves on quickly, though not exactly full of grace. “Right. Yeah. Totally.”

“Honest answer is, that the only productive thing I’ve done tonight is shower, and now I’m in bed watching Fast Times and eating all the chocolate in my house, because I can’t cook for shit and I have nothing else better to do with my night,” you admit to him, picking at the thread of your comforter.

“Oh, don’t tell me I missed the ‘Moving in Stereo’ bit,” he agonizes.

“Just.”

“Well, correct me if I’m wrong, sweetheart, but it sounds like you’re having loads of fun tonight.”

“I’m having a lot more fun now,” you assure him.

“Glad I can be around to make you laugh,” he retorts like he’s not all too happy to do it.

“You’re a total comedian, Eddie Spaghetti.”

“If I’m the jester, you’re the queen, sweetheart,” he promises, a grin evident in his voice.

Your breath catches in your throat something fierce; you’re almost worried that he’s heard it. His words pierce your heart, a stroke of lightning or a blade of steel. He’s joking, but it’s so strangely profound, the kindest thing anyone’s ever said to you and it’s dripping in sarcasm. 

It’s sort of Eddie’s love language, you’ve come to understand, to say something so sweet but coated in venom to make it sour again. It makes you feel special, loved, almost.

A fire builds behind your rib cage, sharp and distant and all-consuming.

“Are you alone, Eds?” you ask him suddenly.

The sudden curve ball in the conversation takes him by surprise. “Uh, yeah, Wayne’s at work right now… Why?”

“Because I want you to talk to me…”

“Oh?” is all he can say because isn’t that what he’s been doing this whole time?

“And I want you to say things that… maybe other people shouldn’t hear,” you explain slowly to him.

“…Oh.”

He’s heard about this only once before, the whole phone sex thing. 

It was from Andy in the back of Ms. O’Donnell’s class a year or more ago, though Eddie never called him by that name. Andy, in all actuality, was Jason Carver’s right-hand man, and he meant that in every sense of the phrase. Eddie was more than convinced that the guy was so obsessed with the blonde haired, blue eyed douchebag that he was giving him handjobs on the regular.

But it seemed the dick brigade couldn’t function properly without their leader and Eddie had the misfortune of hearing all the mindless bullshit they were spewing behind him — basketball, parties, girls; in true white bread fashion.

His friends gathered around him like he was telling some sort of secret, though it was loud enough for anyone in a three foot radius to hear. Eddie, caught directly in the line of fire, heard all about Chrissy’s older sister, Wendy, who was two years older and off at college. 

He’d gotten her number from some party he’d crashed. At least that’s how he told it, right before telling everyone that she swore like a sailor when she came and that she told him all the dirty things she wanted to do to him while she did.

“It was like her hand was on my dick, dude, I’m serious. That shit was crazy, bro,” he’d laughed after retelling the whole conversation in excruciating detail.

Eddie rolled his eyes to himself then, inwardly jealous that he’d never get to meet Wendy — or any other girl that would be willing to have phone sex with him, for that matter. His phone only ever rang for telemarketers or a rogue Dustin Henderson calling to annoy him.

But, here you are now, the most wanted girl in Hawkins, offering it to him on a silver platter. He wonders if you’ve done this before, surely you have — oh god, he thinks to himself, what if you’ve done this with Andy?

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to,” you assure him after his unusually long silence. “I know you’re probably busy and tired and everything—”

“No! No, yeah, I— I want to. I totally want to.”

“Okay,” you nod. Petals of a flower begin to bloom in your chest as you lie back in bed, settling further into the mattress. The movie, already long forgotten, serves only as light and background noise. “So… What are you wearing, Eds?”

“I feel like I should be asking you that,” he laughs. 

On the other side of Hawkins, in a trailer in the middle of nowhere, Eddie rises from where he’d originally flopped back onto his bed with the notion that it was going to be a semi-normal night. He props himself against his headboard. His fingers twitch at his thigh.

“Beat ya to it, Munson.”

“Well, I’ll have you know that it is very sexy, sweetheart. I’m wearing the same Hellfire shirt you saw me in, I don’t know, five hours ago — except now it’s got a rip in it because I totally ate ass on the way back to the van.”

He tells you this to make you laugh — it works — but he prays you don’t ask any questions. Because he got it while hurrying back to his van mere minutes after you’d left him, so hard he thought he was going to burst, with no more than seven minutes until his next client arrived.

 Thankfully, he only needed three.

“I love that shirt,” you respond in place of saying what you really want to — ‘I love how that shirt looks on you’ — how it clings to his lean torso and reveals his midriff whenever he stretches his arms over his head.

“She’s a lit-tle worse for wear now, sweetheart,” he lilts.

“I’ll stitch it up for you.”

“And I’ve got on a pair of boxers that are so old they’re practically see through because I’m pretty sure they used to be Wayne’s back in… I don’t know… the eighteen-hundreds.”

Eddie was right. It was sexy, though, for the exact reason they weren’t supposed to be. 

There was something so domestic about it all. You can picture him lying in his bed, in the most comfortable clothes he owns, in the one place he can feel at peace. Like a renaissance painting, something familiar and comforting and beautiful — fuck, you’d give anything to be next to him.

“…I think that means it’s your turn now, sweetheart,” he teases.

“Is it?” you mock in return.

“C’mon. Don’t leave me hangin’ over here.”

“It’s nothing, special,” you assure. Your eye flits down to peer at your own body — nothing special, indeed, you think to yourself. The lilac cotton set came from the grocery store downtown on the clearance rack you so often frequent. “I just have my underwear on. It’s very boring, I’m afraid.”

It’s not boring. Not to Eddie — the boy who prides himself on his insanely active imagination. He might not be able to pass english with his brain, but he can certainly create worlds with it, and it’s too easy for him to picture you. He imagines you, freshly showered, and smelling of the warm lavender-vanilla scent you always smell like, mostly bare and lazing upon a fluffy comforter.

He swallows thickly. “Oh, that’s— that’s really, uh— that’s really sexy.”

His thankful that you don’t seem to mind his poor excuse for dirty talk.

“It’s only because I was too lazy to get into actual pajamas.”

“I’m glad you didn’t.”

“Yeah?” you press, smiling to yourself and caging your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Yeah.”

“Can I tell you a secret, Eds?” you wonder, made brave enough by his own admission.

“‘Course you can.”

“Before you called…”

“…Uh-huh?” he eggs on, intrigued at the way you trailed off, sounding suddenly shy.

“I was…” The thought of telling him what you were doing mere seconds before he called makes you nervous. It wasn’t like you were ashamed of touching yourself or anything, nor is the art of dirty talking lost on you, but something about Eddie makes you timid.

“You were… what, sweetheart?” he wonders gently, with a too audible grin.

“I was touching myself.”

That’s all you tell him. The words linger and hang in the air of your separate bedrooms and you cling to the silence — almost mortified and anticipating his reply. Eddie, meanwhile, feels like his tongue has swelled in his mouth and all the air has been punched out of his lungs.

“Oh...” he tries to respond without the breath to accurately do so. “…Yeah?”

“You know what Phoebe Cates does to me,” you try to joke.

His laughter crackles through the receiver. “Yeah. I kinda have her to thank for the other night, don’t I?”

“Give yourself some credit, Eds. The hottest guy in Hawkins was sitting right next to me, what was I supposed to do?”

“No way you think I’m the hottest guy in town,” he scoffs. “Everyone knows you’ve got a thing for pretty boys.”

“Pretty boys?” you echo with a giggle.

“Uh-huh. The Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington type, you know?”

“Well, I think you’re a hundred times prettier than he is.”

“Really?” he scoffs cynically, obviously not believing you.

“He wasn’t the one I was thinking about with my hand shoved down my panties,” you admit, immediately quelling his self-doubt. “That’s gotta count for something, right?”

Eddie clears his throat and then stammers, “I— I guess so— yeah.”

“Are you hard, Eds?” you ask in a breathy whisper.

And he just nods to himself at first, too stupid to answer audibly. He can feel himself stiffening in his boxers, only halfway hard now, but getting firmer by the second. Soon, he’ll be aching. 

“Yeah…”

“Can you touch yourself for me?”

Eddie would rather take a bullet to the chest than say no to you — at least, he figures that’d probably hurt less — so he slips his fidgeting fingers through the band of his boxers and takes his warm, stiffening cock in his hand. He squeezes himself just enough to make his stomach tighten.

“Want you to touch yourself, too,” he admits, neither asking or demanding it, just telling you.

“Yeah?” you tease.

“Well, I think it’s only fair, sweetheart.”

You can’t help but notice how breathy he’s gotten — how it shakes on the inhale and hitches on the out. He’s got his hand shoved down his underwear and you’re jealous of the fingers that get to wrap themselves around his cock. You wish they were yours. Both of you will have to settle, it seems.

“Whatever you want, Eds,” you answer playfully. 

You obediently slide your hand back into the warmth of your panties. Your fingers slot between your lips and collect the slick that had gathered there since before you’d even answered the phone. You bring it up to your clit, circling the pads of your fingers there until you twitch, then dragging them down to press into your opening. They slip in with ease. 

Both of you have turned into lovesick idiots, separated by so many miles, and missing the other most ardently. Lying in the depths of your bedrooms, basking in a velvet loneliness, building with a mutual pleasure with nothing but yearning hands and longing sighs.

Eddie’s eyes flutter shut at the sounds of your low moans and fragile whimpers that crackle through the static — beautiful still, but certainly no match to the ones you were breathing in his ear just hours ago. 

His lashes dance across his cheeks as he tries to remember how you’d felt against his fingers, soft like velvet and delicate like silk, weeping and pulsating with need. 

He drags his hand from his boxers and lets the band snap against his pelvis. He spits into his palm and wets his cock with it, sighing as he tugs at himself without much friction.

“Are you wet, sweetheart?” he asks, though the words threaten to get stuck in his throat.

“Yeah,” you whisper back like it’s some kind of secret. 

You work yourself open with your middle finger and slip your pointer in next to it without much trouble. Your walls flutter around them while you fight to find the spot the makes you keen. You’re only able to tease it, fingers not quite long enough to caress it completely. Your thumb keeps working at your clit, though, to make up for the lost pleasure. 

“I’ve been wet since I left you,” you admit through labored breaths. “Haven’t been able to… to stop thinking about you, Eds.”

“Glad I’m not the only one whipped over here, sweetheart,” he manages a laugh.

“No one’s ever made me come that hard before. Not just with their fingers,” you tell him mindlessly, dumb on pleasure, as you feel yourself climbing that peak.

“Really?”

“Never,” you promise, then whine. “Doesn’t even feel as good now… Can’t get as deep as you can—”

Eddie hangs on your every word as he works his palm up and down his stiff cock, squeezing at the base and swiping his thumb over the head with an expert hand. His face scrunches as his stomach starts to tighten, he’s close to coming — too close for his liking. He doesn’t want this to be over so quickly.

“You’ve ruined every other guy for me, Eddie Munson,” you confess, more than pleased to hear how it makes him whine. It sounds like it comes from the depths of his chest, the way it crackles low and needy through the receiver.

“Good,” he grumbles through his pants after he’s gathered himself all over again. “Don’t want anyone else to have you, sweetheart.”

This time you’re the one letting out the most pathetic of whines. It makes a smile flicker at the corners of his lips.

“You like that?”

It sounds so dirty, but you can tell by the sincerity of his tone that it’s genuine. So you answer with a longing truthfulness, a delicate “yes”entwined with a yearning moan.

“You just wanna belong to me, don’t ya?” 

Now, this is dirty talk. The teasing lilt of his tone — it’s almost degrading —  and makes you clench around your fingers. “Yes, please,” you whine, all but pleading for him now.

Eddie’s close, so dreadfully close, with a pleasure so tangible he could taste it. Your words make his cock twitch in his hold as the fire builds in his belly. 

Through your whole-hearted promises and wanting moans, he can hear the sound of your slick through the receiver. The static reception doesn’t do it justice, but the wet click of your fingers working you open was unmistakable.

A moan grumbles in his throat as he digs the crown of his head back into his pillow. “Holy fuck— I can hear you, baby.”

“I’m so wet for you, Eds,” you tell him through fragile slurs, like it wasn’t inherently obvious. 

You were wrong before, about wanting to hide from him. You couldn’t conceal your need for Eddie if you tried. The honey you drip, all sweet and just for him, wouldn’t let you keep it a secret.

“I know, baby, I know,” he nearly coos. “Are you— fuck, please tell me you’re close?”

“Yes,” you promise in a whine. Your thumb presses harder into your clit. It makes your thighs tense until they’re shaking.

“You rubbing your clit for me, sweetheart?” he asks like he knows. “I know that’s what you like.”

You whimper, working at the spongy spot within you as your hips buck off the bed. “Yeah.”

“Keep rubbing yourself like that for me, okay? Want you to keep going until you come for me.”

If he keeps talking to you like that, it’ll come a lot quicker than he’s prepared for. 

It’s too soft to be much of a demand, but you listen obediently anyway, rubbing at yourself though your sensitivity keeps building. It grows like a morning tide, rising and flowing like white waves on an ocean, stirring something fierce in the depths of your stomach.

“Eddie,” you sigh out his name, broken through staggered pants.

You hear his stuttering breaths, too. “Y—Yeah?”

“I’m about to come,” you promise through a whine when the familiar crescendo sends a shock through your body.

“O… Okay,” he responds, pathetically, then whines, even more so.

“Want you to come with me… Please…”

“Fuck— okay. Shit, sweetheart, I’m almost there.”

“What are you thinking about?” you ask him.

“Your pussy,” he answers without thinking — he’s not doing a whole lot of that anymore. “Wish I’d gotten to taste you earlier. Wanna feel you… fuck… Wanna feel you come on my tongue.”

“Holy shit, Eds,” you moan at his words, at the vivid picture they paint in your head.

“And you get so… God, you get so fucking wet. Just want you to drench me, baby.”

It feels good, to be complimented for something boys used to make fun of you for, to realize for the first time that’s it’s sexy — that you’re sexy — and that Eddie is more than happy to drown in you. The feeling almost rivals the impending orgasm that’s bound to hit you like a tidal wave.

“I’m thinking about how I coulda took you on that bench… Just, fucking, get on my knees for you. Shove my head between your legs. Hold your— shit, baby— hold your thighs open, keep you exactly where I want you,” he rambles but then cuts himself off to moan at his own words. “Goddamn, sweetheart. Wanna taste you so fucking bad.”

The moan you let out is pitiful. It leaves your mouth in the most delicate cry. 

No picture has ever been clearer than the one of Eddie between your thighs, your hands knotted in his hair to move him to exactly where you need him most and forcing him there. You can feel his fingers digging into your hips, his rings pressed against your burning skin, and the way your legs tremble on either side of his head.

“Yeah. Keep— Keep doing that. Keep moaning for me,” Eddie tells you. “I’m about to… holy fuck, I’m about to come.”

“Wanna feel your tongue in me so bad, Eds,” you whimper, egged on by the moan he lets out. “Want your cock even more.”

That’s what does him in, the assurance — the promise — that you want him just as bad as he wants you. 

He tightens his fist around his cock, achingly hard and raging a crimson at the tip, trying to imitate the way you’d feel around him. It’s not all that close, not nearly as wet as the honey you’d be dripping for him, but his imagination does the rest of the work for him. 

All at once, you’re on top of him, riding him for all he’s worth, your pussy threatening to swallow him whole. You’ve drenched him, just like he’d begged for, and that wet schlick noise still echoing from the receiver is the evidence of each of your assured thrusts over top of him. 

You’re still pleading for him anyway — for more, for his tongue, for his cock — and he wants so desperately to give everything to you.

“Oh god, baby—” he sputters. He grips the phone in a white-knuckled, fist trembling. “Oh, fuck, I’m coming, baby.”

“Please, Eddie. Please come for me,” you plead over the low sounds of the forgotten film playing across the room and all the dirty wet sounds your pussy makes against your fingers. You sound like you need it, like you want his orgasm more than your own.

“Want you to come with me… Can you— Can you do that for me, sweetheart? Please?” It’s not dirty talk anymore. He’s actually fucking begging you and doesn’t feel the least bit ashamed to do so. 

He wants to hear all the pretty noises you make when you come — that initial cry that stems from the depths of your soul, the high-pitched whimpers that come when the sensitivity builds, and the whines that leave you when it ebbs.

He wants to hear it over and over and over again, like a worn cassette, and play it until the tape spins out.

“Yes…” you promise through a set of stuttering breaths.

There’s no talking when either of you come. Eddie’s long forgotten to talk you through it, but you would barely hear him if he had. The phone slips out of your hand when your grip slackens and it falls to the pillow beside your head.

You chase your orgasm full throttle, working through the crescendo and the strikes of lightning, focusing only on his muffled moaning and the pretty sounds he makes as he comes. 

The breath of your name whimpered through a tight throat is what does it for you. Your body has hardly any time to warn you before you’re gushing all over your fingers, twitching every time the pad of your thumb rubs over clit.

That cry, the one you always let out as you come — all wet and full of need — makes Eddie orgasm right alongside you. 

He swipes his thumb over his head again, collecting the pearls of precum gathering there and sliding them down the base to squeeze himself there like he’d been doing this whole time. He clutches harder this time, imagines it's your cunt locking him in a vice-like grip, and whines in his throat when he comes.

Several loads of it spill onto his cotton boxers, most of it gathering along the side of his hand and dripping down his knuckles. His breath staggers as he works himself through his high, praising you through the phone like you’re the one who brought him to it. 

“Fuck, baby… You’re so good… So fucking good.”

You’ve long settled from your own orgasm, still tingly and numb in some places, but not as gone as you had been just moments before. You still float on a cloud, getting lost as you stare through your window at the half-hidden stars sprinkling the night sky and feeling as though you could reach out and touch them.

You can feel the satin moonlight bathing you, and the jittery static of the neon of the television screen. You can feel everything and somehow nothing at all. 

“I don’t know how you do it, Eds,” you confess, hardly thinking about the words spilling from your mouth when you lazily bring the phone to your ear again.

“Do what, sweetheart?”

“I don’t know… You always make me feel good. Even when you’re not here… Even when we’re not getting each other off.”

“I feel the same way,” he promises you, all mushy, even though he feels like a slob for wiping his hand off on his discarded jeans on his bed. “Just… wish you were here.”

“I wish I was there, too… Wish I could clean you up.”

Eddie’s eyes shut tight as his head tilts back to his pillow at the thought. “Fuck… You’re gonna make me hard again, sweetheart.”

You perk up suddenly as an idea sprouts like a flower in your head. A smile blooms on your lips, and you rise up onto your elbows, glowing with an unanticipated excitement. “How long would it take you to get ready?”

“…Get ready?” he echoes.

“Yeah,” is all you say.

“I mean, I— I don’t know. I figure if I put on some new underwear and a fresh pair of pants, I’ll be good as new... Why?”

“You wanna do something?” 

“Yeah. Sure. Anything,” he answers clumsily in place of saying, ‘Anything to not have to be without you.’

“I wanna go to Skull Rock.”

“Skull Rock?” he repeats. 

Legend has it, you and Steve made that place a local landmark. People have always said that Hopper caught the both of you one too many times up at Lover’s Lake and the Quarry, that you needed a more hidden place to fuck. So you’d stumbled around in the middle of the woods until you found a place the chief wouldn’t think to look for you.

You’d certainly found it. Then every other horny high schooler did too.

It’s the place you go to fuck, the most private place in all of Hawkins — hell, maybe even Indiana entirely for teenagers who can’t get the house to themselves. And as appealing as it sounds, to take you beneath a sky of twinkling stars, Eddie doesn’t want his first time with you to be on dirt or in the middle of the woods. That’s how all the horror movies start, don’t they?

So, needless to say, your answer takes him by surprise.

“Yeah! You can see all the stars really good from there. It’s too hard to see them so close to town.”

Eddie’s heart swells all at once at how sweet you are, like sugar poured directly onto his tongue. You’re not eager to be without him either, it seems, and that thought is as gratifying as it is thrilling. 

You’re an adventure he’s about to go on, without a map or a way out, a journey he’s happy to go into blind as long as you’re holding his hand the entire way through it.

It breaks his heart to hang up the phone. He practically begs you to do it for him, and it makes you laugh — a kind giggle entwined with a tease ‘you’re such a baby.’ It rings in his ears long after the receiver clicks.

Most of all, he hates all the stoplights that separate your place from his. He hadn’t known where you lived before now, not until you uttered it over the phone. He makes a mental note to figure out a quicker way, somewhere through the winding back roads that his old van can speed through to make the distance less daunting.

He pulls into your apartment complex, a quaint two-story thing on the quieter side of town, where the woods are plentiful and the street lamps far fewer. He turns his radio down out of respect for all your neighbors that he’s sure he’ll never meet and spies you through the neon orange porch lights. You shut and lock your door in quick succession, then scurry across the way to meet him.

Eddie leans over to unlock the passenger side door for you, already beaming, and finds you’re smiling too when you climb in next to him. The grin you shoot his way outshines the night sky and makes a bright yellow sun of the girl sitting in his passenger seat.

“Hi,” you’d greeted him, all shy like you didn’t just make him come all over his hand thirty minutes ago.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he volleys back like he always does, with that big ol’ smirk and teasing lilt as he cock his head to the side — using his playfulness to cover up the bashful mess you so easily reduce him too.

Neither of you had gotten particularly dressed up to see each other. All he did was put on fresh under and pajama pants. You succumbed to a smilier laziness it seems, haphazardly brushing through your half-damp hair, throwing on a too big t-shirt, and calling it a day. 

The cotton hangs low at your chest, stretched out and obviously well-loved. It falls well past your thigh, though you spend much of the drive anxiously tugging it down. 

It makes him wonder what you’re wearing beneath it. If you’ve tugged on a pair of shorts or if you’re in the bra and (undoubtedly wet) underwear you’d told him you were wearing over the phone. 

Eddie winds himself up all over again while you sift through the flimsy case of endless cassettes he keeps tucked in the glove compartment that never quite shuts all the way.

“How do you now have any ABBA tapes?” you wonder like it’s baffling, with an Iron Maiden tape in one hand and Cinderella in the other. Metallica plays lowly, nearly inaudibly, from the stereo.

Eddie laughs and darts his eyes from the darkened back roads to look at you, all smiley and bathed in moonlight, before turning back to the road again. “Uh, because I’m not a thirty-year-old woman. That’s the shit moms listen to.”

“Moms and hot girls,” you retort jokingly.

“Right, moms and hot girls listen to ABBA — of which, I am neither, sweetheart. Sorry to be the one to break it to you… Besides, it’s not like you walk around listening to, fucking, I don’t know— Van Halen or whatever.”

“Hey. I listen to Van Halen,” you shoot back.

He scoffs. “Yeah, right.”

“It’s got what it takes!” you sing suddenly, not quite catching the rhythm of the song, but smiling anyway as you reach for his forearm resting on the center console. “So tell me why can’t this be love!”

“Oh, my god— that’s literally their worst song,” Eddie chuckles through the widest grin you’ve ever seen from him. 

It makes you smile big too, looking like an idiot who’s totally head over heels for the boy next to her. And of that, you’re happily guilty of.

“Not true,” you shake your head defiantly. “I love that song.”

“So that means it has to be good, right?” he retorts playfully, shooting you a teasing look, though his beam is more than sincere.

“Obviously,” you answer with a scoff that makes Eddie roll his eyes.

He knows he’s going to start to love it, though, if only because it’s the only Van Halen song you halfway know.

He’s going to hear that song on the radio and he’s going to want to turn it, but he’s going to remember this moment now — the one with you reaching for him while you sing the lyrics to a song he can’t stand, sitting pretty in his passenger seat, while the moonlight blanches your smile and the bare skin of your thighs.

Eddie Munson is going to love that goddamn song for the rest of his life.

He parks as close as he can to Skull Rock, knowing his van can’t work its way that far into the woods. The two of you are forced to walk the rest of the way, not exactly minding it, though Eddie’s incessantly worried you’re going to get cold. 

He’s already forced his jacket upon you, which you took with little fight. It warmed you almost immediately — with his cozy heat and musky cologne.

You make mindless conversation the entire way there, about music and then about his band and then what animal you’d want to be in your band if that were the least bit possible. Eddie chooses a sheep without any hesitation, though you’re confident that a penguin would be far cooler. 

You keep a careful distance between you, at first, like both of you are too scared to initiate the first move. That is, until you trip over a raised branch and nearly eat ass on the forest floor. Then Eddie’s holding your hand the entire way, keeping you close.

“If you wanted me to hold your hand, you coulda just said so, you know?” he jokes. “Didn’t have to go through all the dramatics, sweetheart.”

You try and yank your hand out of his grip in protest then, but he doesn’t let you. In fact, he pulls you closer and twirls you into a bear hug that you happily relax into.

He feels your sigh fan against his collarbone as you rest your head at the nape of his neck, his arms wrap around your shoulders as yours settle at his waist. He rocks you back in forth, in a moment that’s too almost sweet to make fun of.

Eddie finds a way, of course, “See?” he singsongs. “I’ll hug you like this all the time, if you want. You don’t have to almost kill yourself to get my attention, babe.”

“All I did was trip,” you laugh at his theatrics.

“Death by tree root… What a gnarly way to go.”

He holds your hand the entire way to Skull Rock. 

He doesn’t let you go once, not until you’re ascending the large boulders to plant yourselves at the very peak of them. He’s grabbing you again once you settle, though, and the two of you just sit there, for several long moments, just gaping at the stars that dance with life above you. They sprinkle an infinite void with enough light that manages to touch you, trillions of miles away.

There’s a subtle beauty in that Eddie never would’ve appreciated before now.

“Shit, babe,” he breathes through a whimsical existential dread. “You were right. The stars are really fucking pretty out here.” 

You love how much he loves this, to come to Skull Rock with you and count the stars. Any other guy would’ve had their tongue down your throat by now, stuffing your hand down their unbuttoned jeans.

But not Eddie.

He just holds your hand because he likes the feeling of his fingers entwined with yours, grasping tightly onto you while he gazes at an infinite universe — like you might float off right along with it.

His neck is stretched to gape at the night sky. You catch his adam’s apple bobbing every time he swallows. You want so desperately to kiss his milky white skin and sprinkle blotchy red bruises there.

His curly locks fall over his shoulders. He shakes his head to get his bangs out of his eyes while the chocolate buttons of them dart around the endless void.

He’s more beautiful than every star in the sky combined. You can’t be sure of how many that is, of course, but it’s a whole bunch if you had to guess. It makes sense, though, for the prettiest boy in the whole damn galaxy.

“Told ya,” you answer with a smile, leaning over to nudge his shoulder with yours. “You come out here often?”

You’re asking if he takes girls here and he knows it, but it’s not like you’re being inconspicuous about the whole thing. Eddie gauges it almost immediately, the subtle jealousy hinting at your tone — something no one else would’ve caught — and he squeezes your hand in reassurance.

He shakes his head. “No… Never.”

“Never?” you press with raised brows, like his answer shocks you.

“Ever. It’s not really my scene, I guess… But what about you, sweetheart? Never seen you around these parts before.”

You knock his shoulder again, harder this time.  “Shut up. You already know the answer to that.”

“Yeah…” he nods to himself, eyes darting back and forth as he reminisces on something. “You and Harrington, you and Hargrove. Hell, I think I heard about you and Jason one time—”

“That was a long time ago,” you argue. “Before I even knew you, okay?”

“I’m just saying,” he shrugs in defense. “You totally have a thing for pretty boys, sweetheart.”

“I never said I didn’t, Eds. Just that you were pretty, too.”

“Whatever,” he scoffs and rolls his eyes like he isn’t glowing red beneath the moonlight.

“You’re better than all three of them, Eds,” you confess with a sudden softness that catches his attention almost immediately. He turns his attention from the sky to look at you properly again. His breath catches at you sad you look — all beautiful and coated in shades of blue.

“…Yeah?”

You nod and drag his hand into your lap to fidget with his fingers. You trace the skeleton heart on his middle finger, subverting all your attention there because it’s easier than having to look at him now. “Better than all of them combined— not even just them, you know? Out of everyone. No one’s ever been this nice to be before.”

“Me neither, sweetheart,” he confesses with a morose grin. “The freak of Hawkins High attracts a lot of assholes, believe it or not.”

“Is it bad?” you wonder cautiously, like you’re scared to hear the answer. In some ways, you are. 

You hadn’t known him in high school, not really. For obvious reasons, you ran in very different circles. You never even had classes together. There was never any excuse to be close to each other before now, never a reason to become friends. So you didn’t.

You grew to know him as a freak, and he knew you as the town slut. Then somewhere down the line, he became your dealer and now… here you were. 

But you’ve graduated now and he’s still army crawling towards a diploma. You couldn’t save him from the hell of Hawkins High even if you wanted to.

“Nothing I can’t handle,” he shrugs. “Jason and the dick brigade just wanna make my life hell, that’s all.”

“I hope they aren’t,” you respond shyly.

Eddie scoffs then shoots you a smile. “Oh, of course not. Look at me. I’m at Skull Rock with the most wanted girl in Hawkins. I’m living the dream, sweetheart.”

“So you don’t care?” you wonder, peering at him through your lashes, as you twist the silver cross around his finger.

“Care about what?” 

“That I’m a slut,” you laugh like it’s obvious.

Eddie doesn’t think it’s all that funny. “Don’t say that.”

“It’s not like it isn’t true, Eds,” you retort with a trembling smile. “I mean, that’s literally what people call me — most people don’t even care to call me by my real name anymore.”

“I don’t care,” Eddie shakes his head. “I don’t care about that. I don’t give a shit about what people say about you. If everyone cared about what everyone said about everyone, neither of us would be here right now… Because you’d think I was some devil-worshipping freak and I’d think you were too busy getting it on with Chief Hopper.”

You screw your face up immediately at the thought. The mere idea was repulsive. The asshole was practically your father these days. Jim Hopper was in that small bunch of available people you would never fuck, and happily so. 

“I’d never stoop that low,” you joke.

“I like you, how you are, right now,” Eddie promises. “Don’t want you to change a damn thing.” 

His brown eyes twinkle with a sincerity that rivals the stars above you. All of a sudden, you don’t care about a bunch of heavenly bodies light years away from you — you care about this man, the one sitting beside you now, holding your hand even though your palms have gone all sweaty.

It’s too good to be true — the way you looks at you, the way he talks to you, the way he treats you. You’re scared that it’s a dream, that you’ll wake up and find that none of this was ever real. Or worse, that he was, and that he just didn’t care about you the way you cared about him.

It’s almost irrational. Almost. 

But it’s happened before. 

And it’s left you a scarred and mangled mess.

You shake your head to yourself and scrunch your face as you turn to look him. “Have you ever done this before, Eddie?”

“Don’t what?” he wonders with furrowed brows.

“I don’t know…” you shrug. “Any of this? With anyone else?”

He’s grateful he doesn’t have to lie. Or tell some clumsy half-truth for the sake of saving his own skin. He realizes tonight is perhaps the most honest he’s ever been with you, baring his pale soul beneath a silver moonlight. 

“Never,” he answers, unwavering, with a firm shake of his head.

“Really?”

“Really,” he nods, then swallows thickly at a gut-wrenching realization. “I’ve never felt his way about anyone else before.’

“Me neither,” you promise. 

It’s a tad more meaningful coming from you than from a boy who’s never had someone to love and to love him back.

You’re experienced, you’ve found what you like and what you don’t like. You’ve been with guys who have given you the world and guys that have ended yours altogether. And out of all of them — all of the assholes in Hawkins you could’ve picked — you’ve chosen the freak. 

You want him. 

You want Eddie.

The revelation makes him grin. “Promise?”

“Cross my heart, Eddie Spaghetti.”

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

the wall between us

kinktober, day sixteen

a/n: ...yeah, this one is weird, but also kinda wild

summary: pov, you live in a cult where there is an impregnation ritual on your 18th birthday

warnings: steve harrington x reader, smut, cult au (they are both members), cult leader!jim hopper, weird birthday impregnation ritual, public sex, fem gloryhole, breed kink, fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, forbidden romance

word count: 773

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist | kinktober 2023

“Always a blessed day when a flower blooms and becomes ready to expand on our wonderful family,” you heard Jim, your charismatic and adorn leader boast from the other side of the thin wooden wall, “now, gentlemen, let us bow our heads and pray, please, grant me the power to deduce who will bless this girl with a babe….” after a moment of dead silence, Hopper broke it with a loud, “ah! I can see it!” the others in the audience rumbled as he finally revealed, “it is you!”

“Me, sire?” a voice in the crowd cut through, sounding completely taken aback. 

“Yes, you bear the seed she needs, my child,” his proclamation prompted the other members to cheer loudly as you heard footsteps near. 

Laying on your back, legs resting up against the wall, you felt a gust of wind kiss your bottom that stuck out of the meticulous cut-out, indicating that a person had stepped up.  

“Hi,” he greeted in a hushed tone, the crowd still bustling from behind him. 

“Hello,” your fingers apprehensively fiddled with the fabric of your white dress, crumbled and gathered at your waist. 

“Uh, happy birthday.”

“Oh,” you blinked a second, surprised by his demeanour, “thank you.”

“Can I ask you something?” his low voice was clear, though his touch hadn’t found you yet.

“Sure.” 

“Are you nervous?” 

“A little, yeah,” you gnawed at your bottom lip, “I’ve just waited for this for a very long time… are you?”

“I know I shouldn’t be, but he’s just never picked me before, so…” he admitted, staying quiet a moment before checking, “is it alright if I begin?”

“Yes, yes, of course,” you rushed to say, adrenalin pumping through your veins. You sucked in a sharp breath as you felt his touch ghost over your skin, just your hip, the exposed part of you that was the furthest away from your core. Your fingers tightened their grip on your dress as his gentle touch slowly fluttered closer to your presented pussy, “is it strange that I wish I could see you?”

“Not at all,” he nearly chuckled, “I feel the same way,” his broad thumb came up to brush over your glistening folds, his touch staying ever so light as he tickled your clit. 

Just then, you heard a heavy pair of boots come near, “come on, son,” you heard Jim whisper into the man’s ear, “you haven’t got all day,” a threatening aura laced his tone, “complete the ritual,” a callused hand suddenly crept over your skin, “look,” and without warning, a finger plunged into you causing you to gasp, “she’s practically begging for you to pump her full,” momentarily curving his digit, he tickled a spot inside of you that made you shiver, “don’t make me pick somebody else,” though his controlling touch then faltered, parting ways by swiftly landing a sharp slap across your bottom, a hushed yelp bubbling from your lips. 

“I’m sorry, sire,” the man quickly apologised, hastily rushing to bury himself in you. 

Turning his attention back towards the crowd, Jim then roared, “and the ceremony has officially begun!” boisterous cheers promptly erupted, “soon we will be blessed with more abundance!” 

Keeping his voice low, you heard the man whisper as he bucked into you, “I’m sorry, I really wanted to do this differently, take our time…”

“It’s alright,” you breathed, “it’s how it's done…” your whole body rocked with each of his efforts to fulfil his duty. Planting your palm on the wood parting you two, where you presumed his visage was, you couldn’t help but imagine what he looked like… exactly the way his hips snapped into you… had his hair fluttered down to obscure his vision? Was he looking at you and you alone? Because if he looked anything like how he sounded or how he felt, then you couldn’t even begin to comprehend what that could mean, but what you did know was that it enticed you in a way you’d never felt before, “…maybe one day we’ll meet again and there won’t be a wall between us. Will you show me then how you had wished to do it?”

With a low and strangled moan, you felt him twitch inside of you and his movements quickly slow as he filled you up. 

“What’s your name?” he asked breathlessly. 

“Y/n,” you felt your heart flutter as you stared at the wall, “and yours?”

“Steve,” he whispered, his touch warm as his fingers fluttered over your goosebump-ridden flesh, “I’ll find you, Y/n. I don’t know how, I don’t know when, but I promise I won’t stop till I do.”

© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Love Sucks III. The Hunt

Vampire!Steve Harrington x fem!reader He’s just a gloomy, little guy.

The Masterlist 🩸

Honestly, it probably didn’t help that everyone was standing in a line, a front row audience to what Steve deemed a very nerve wracking moment in his afterlife. 

“Ignore them, son,” Wayne gruffed, waving a dismissive hand at his nephew and all his friends. 

“But, Eddie has a camera,” Steve responded with weak offence. Eddie grinned and waved, the video camera balanced against his shoulder. He refused to answer to anyone who asked where he got it from, but Nancy spoke loud and frostily about a handheld that had been stolen from the newspaper’s office last week. “He keeps pointing it at me.”

Eddie laughed. 

You stepped in, scowling at your friends and smoothing your hands over Steve’s cheeks in what you hoped was a calming gesture. He was cold, almost icy, that forever faded summer tan paler than ever. His eyes were bloodshot, the skin underneath rose and lavender. He looked more like a vampire than ever. 

He was hungry. 

“Hey, hey,” you were frowning, something Steve hated to see on you but you were growing more concerned by the day. “I can tell them to leave, if you want?”

Steve glanced over at the kids, all sitting with snacks and chatting excitedly, their boots covered in mud and buried in the piles of leaves. Robin was perched on a low tree branch beside Jonathan and Nancy was talking to Hopper about the deer population. 

“No, it’s okay,” Steve murmured. His words sounded slurred, sluggish, too thick for his dry mouth. “You’ll stay back though, right? I don’t want to hu—”

You let your hands trail down his shoulders, catching his cold fingers and squeezing. “You won’t,” you promised him. “But you need to eat. Let Wayne and Jim help you, yeah? Rabbits aren’t cutting it anymore, handsome.”

And they weren’t, Steve knew that. And he hated how sad he got once he bit into their soft fur, the small amount of blood not doing much more than breaking his heart. You told Wayne about it one day when he came back from hunting and the older man huffed and ranted tiredly about the overgrown population of deer, elk, wolves. 

“Tell your boyfriend to catch some of those and we won’t have a problem.”

Except Steve had stared wide eyed at you at the suggestion. “An elk? I don’t know how to catch one of those.”

And that’s why you and your friends were in the middle of the woods on an October afternoon, just before evening fell. Hopper had swept the clearing for other hunters, dog walkers, campers and once he was satisfied, he gave Wayne a thumbs up. 

“Okay, let’s go, Dracula,” Wayne announced and Steve frowned, offended. He pointed. “You see it’s neck? That’s where you wanna aim, got it?”

The “neck” was non-existent. Joyce Byers’ old exercise bike was sitting in the mud, padded out with pillows tied with string. Someone (Mike) had draped a blanket over it and someone else (Max) stuck branches to the handles, faux antlers, much to Steve’s dismay. He spared a glance back at you, looking forlorn before Wayne snapped his fingers and whistled. 

“Hey, concentrate. You wanna jump it, right? Now you don’t got no gun, or crossbows, but I know there’s some heavy weaponry in that mouth of yours, so you gotta use it.”

Steve looked glum, lifting his fingers to rub at the sharp fangs he’d let protrude from his gums. They felt brittle and dry, ready to feed. You stepped closer, nudging yourself into Steve’s space until you could wrap your arms around his waist. He was icy under his shirt, almost too told to touch but you loved the way he relaxed into you at the touch of your hands, warm and soft, sneaking up the insides of his sweater. 

So Steve nodded and then the rest of the evening was spent in a mess of semi-hilarity and frustration. Steve scowled and kicked at the dead leaves as Hopper egged him on and Robin and Wayne took turns in pretending to attack the bike, throwing themselves at the pillow padding, miming biting the fake neck. 

Eddie caught everything on camera. 

Eventually Steve relented and you watched as he paced around the fake animal, sulky looking with his red rimmed eyes and frown. But he seemed to move a little faster than you’d see him do before, his movements not superhuman, but definitely unnatural. Then he’d pounce, throw himself onto the bike and swear as pillows fell off the sides, the makeshift antlers poking him in the ribs as he scrambled for the bike's handles/neck. 

People cheered, Eddie cackled, you kissed his pale cheek and Steve rolled his eyes with the impatience and embarrassment of a teenager going to his first prom. 

“This is stupid,” he muttered but the next night he slipped into the woods to feed and he came back satiated. 

He returned covered in mud and pine needles, with a drop of blood or two on his jeans and his shirt was torn from a scuffle from an animal that he deemed a monstrous size, but your boyfriend was pleased with himself and that’s all that mattered. 

Two days later, Eddie made him watch Bambi on the VCR and Steve was horrified, declaring that he was going vegetarian.  

[corrodedseraphine]

easy | one shot

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: "But Eddie has a girlfriend!" Dustin said first. "He does?" Adam asked, crossing his arms over his chest. "I do?" Eddie muttered under his breath trying to understand what was going on. "Yeah, he is dating my sister y/n!" Will continued. "They're so in love with each other it's disgusting." Dustin rolled his eyes.

Everything would be fine if it weren't for the fact that neither you nor Eddie were informed in advance of the fact that you were a couple.

It promised to be a very interesting week. angst/fluff and almost smut (making out in the bathroom), friends to lovers

In this AU Joyce didn't move to California, but Argyle is there in Hawkins because he is too cool to erase him just like that.

TW: mention of injuries, blood, murder, drugs

the one shot is also avaliable on ao3

9 591 words

When I first got the idea, I thought it would be a very short and pleasant story. As standard, it turned out quite differently!

I know I said this fanfic wouldn't be related to any song, but as I was writing I was listening to one of my favorite songs about love Safari by Piotr Zioła on loop and couldn't resist adding elements of it in there.

eddie munson masterlist | general masterlist

"Here are my favorites!" Wayne said entering Eddie's room with a big cardboard box.

"Please let me tell Dustin that you called us that, this little shit will lose his mind." Robin grinned.

"He knows it. This is my uncle and sometimes he loves you guys more than he loves me." Eddie replied with a mouth full of pizza. 

You were sitting in the Munsons' new apartment. After the huge compensation Eddie got from the government, they decided to give up on the trailer park and find a place where power failure and lack of hot water would not be on the agenda. You, of course, helped them with the moving out. Unfortunately, Eddie's condition was not the best so with the carrying furniture and cardboard boxes Steve, Jonathan, Argyle and Hopper helped Wayne. You, Robin, Nancy and Joyce took care of painting the rooms, but now it was time to eat to strengthen yourselves before continuing. You sat in a circle on the floor, since you hadn't yet had time to assemble the table. Suddenly there was the sound of a telephone in the apartment. Wayne went to answer it and returned after about 10 minutes with a worried expression on his face.

"If it weren't for the fact that the police chief is now sitting across from me I'd think I'd messed something up again." the younger Munson joked, to which Jim just rolled his eyes.

"We'll have visitors next week." sighed the old man.

"Who?"

"Remember aunt Theresa and her son Adam?"

"Jesus, no!" his reaction spoke for itself.

"They want to come for a week."

"So at the moment when we live in a trailer and can barely afford anything they don't want to know us, but when we suddenly get a lot of money and a new apartment they feel like suddenly renewing family ties?" he asked with disgust in his voice.

"It's only a week Son, you'll survive."

"Nope. I won't survive. Hopper you don't have a free cell for a week? I'll be much better off there than in their company."

"Don't be dramatic, kid." he replied.

"Joyce! Have mercy on the victim, store me for this time in your basement, you won't even notice I'm there," he whined. "I just got you out of the hospital, the doctor said that I am categorically forbidden to do any extreme activities!"

"How can a family visit be extreme?" Steve asked.

"When you meet them you'll understand."

You finished eating and everyone went back to their duties, but you went to help Eddie with changing the bandages. From the very beginning you were the only person he allowed in, because you handled him most delicately of all. You knew that Wayne was trying his best, however, Eddie always dramatically confirmed that everyone else wanted him to die in pain.

He sat on the edge of the tub as you cleaned each wound in turn. He hissed in pain from time to time, each time you heard it you sent him a slight smile whispering that it would be over soon and everything will be fine. When each wound was thoroughly cleaned you moved on to applying the ointment.

"Why do you dislike your family so much?" you asked while rubbing the ointment into his cheek.

"They have always considered themselves the best of the family, just because they have money. They love to brag about it, if they could they would wear badges that say 'we're fabulously rich, sucker,'" he said rolling his eyes.

"That doesn't sound too good." You sighed.

"I'll be hearing all week about how worthless I am. Too stupid to graduate from high school on the first try, too controversial looking to get a good job... The list goes on, if I were to list everything we'd have to sit here until night."

"Hey, look at me." you said grabbing his chin and turning him so that he was looking straight into your eyes. "You're not worthless. You saved the world, Eddie. You saved us all. The only worthless thing that exists is your hopeless aunt's words, do you understand?"

"You saved me, too. More than once." he whispered surprised with your words.

"I would have done it a second time without hesitation."

When you found yourselves in the Upside Down after passing through the gate at Lover's Lake the Demobats took you as their target. Without a second thought, Eddie rushed to your rescue when one of them wrapped its tail around your neck. Later, while Steve, Nancy, Jonathan and Robin dealt with Vecna together the two of you and Dustin were supposed to distract the monsters. Unfortunately, Eddie had no intention of listening to Steve and feeling a surge of courage he cut the line when you and Dustin returned to the trailer on the good side. That didn't stop you from jumping after him. You don't know if it was the adrenaline or the despair that overwhelmed you when you saw him that made you and the others able to get him back out the other side. The option of getting out of hell without Eddie simply didn't exist for you.

"I just... I don't want Wayne to be ashamed of me. I don't want him to listen to all the crap they say about me because I know he cares. He tries not to show it but I can see it. And that's the worst part of it all."

"Wayne loves you. And I know he would do anything for you. It's normal that when someone talks nonsense about people we love it upsets us. Remember when you had to pull me forcibly away from Craver who was bullying Will? I thought I was going to tear him apart then. I probably would have if it hadn't been for you."

"To be honest, you were terrifying, I was scared as hell," he laughed.

"If necessary I'm ready to defend you from your crazy family too. I just need to grow my nails so I can claw out their eyes better." you answered. When you saw the smile light up his face as well, you felt your heart skipped a beat. You meant it in all honesty. You would do anything for the people you love. He didn't need to know that you loved him in a little different way than the rest.

When the ultimate day arrived Eddie was sitting in his room with Dustin and Will working on the details of the next D&D campaign. This was to be Will's first time as Dungeon Master for the whole group so Eddie, as always, eagerly offered to help. They were fiercely discussing the final boss fight when the door to his room swung open gently and Wayne showed up in it.

"Hi Uncle Wayne." Dustin and Will said simultaneously.

"Hi boys. Eddie? Our guests have arrived." As soon as the last word left his mouth the door swung open wider allowing his aunt inside. There was a look of displeasure on Wayne's face at the fact that she had walked in there as if it were her own room, but he didn't comment. Immediately after her, her son Adam walked in.

"Hello, Edward!" she said in an overly high tone, looking around the room with a judgmental gaze. "Why don't you give an old aunt a hug as a greeting?"

"I'd love to, but unfortunately the doctor has forbidden me to have close contact with other people." Eddie replied in a flat tone causing the younger boys to snort quietly with laughter.

"Hm... I see you still haven't grown up. Adam threw away all his toys the moment he started high school."

"These are not some toys, they are needed for our campaign." He sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Are you still playing that satanic game?" interjected Adam.

"It's not- Yeah, you know what? Yes, I play the satanic game all the time. Actually, I'm the leader of the cult now, and these are its scary members Dustin and Will. Before you say anything, yes, I am bringing the Hawkins youth to the dark side of power to worship Satan with me." Their visit had so far lasted only five minutes and they had already made Eddie think about how much more fun it was to be ripped to shreds by demobats.

"Alright." Wayne interrupted his dramatic speech before things got too far. "Why don't I show you the rest of the house and the neighborhood?" Without a word they left closing the door behind them.

"Dude, they're awful." commented Dustin.

"Are you still playing this satanic game?" Will began to mock Adam.

"This is going to be the worst week of my life." The metalhead rubbed his face with his hands.

For the next few hours, Eddie didn't leave his room for a step, knowing that the enemy was sitting right behind the wall. He tried to focus on Will's campaign but anxiety and nerves didn't help him one bit. When the doorbell rang around the apartment all three of them left the room knowing it was Hopper. However, they didn't expect it was Aunt Theresa opening the door for him.

"Good evening officer!" she said. "My name is Theresa Munson, is something wrong?" A confused Hopper sent Eddie a questioning look, to which only the latter rolled his eyes.

"Nothing happened, I-"

"Did Eddie get into trouble again? I know he's been in trouble with the law several times before," she sighed. "Edward I'm sure what you did was not intentional right?" She didn't let him get a word in edgewise.

"What the fu-" Eddie didn't have time to finish when Wayne came out of the bathroom.

"Jim! How are you?" he said shaking Hopper's hand.

"Good." he replied still somewhat surprised. "I came to pick up the boys."

"Oh, so you're not here after because of Edward? What a relief!" his aunt interjected.

"Unbelievable!" Eddie exclaimed, banging his head against the wall.

"I'm just worried that you'll follow in your father's footsteps! Look at you, tattoos? torn clothes and that satanic music you listen to? That doesn't bode well, does it, officer? If you don't change something about yourself you'll never find any girlfriend or a good job."

It was a punch below the belt. Mentioning his father was crossing the line. Seeing Eddie clench his fists and the knuckles on his hands turn white Will and Dustin sent each other a communicative look.

"But Eddie has a girlfriend!" Dustin said first.

"He does?" Adam asked crossing his arms over his chest.

"I do?" Eddie muttered under his breath trying to understand what was going on.

"Yeah, he is dating my sister y/n!" Will continued.

"They're so in love with each other it's disgusting." Dustin rolled his eyes.

"Come on boys, we have to go." Hopper said, interrupting this bizarre exchange of words. "Your mother will kill me if we don't get back before dinner."

With that, the two teenagers left them all in shock, including Eddie. After they left, he quickly locked himself in his room thinking about the situation. Apparently you are a couple now. How should he behave around you now? He didn't know what to do with all this. These two little bastards had just put him in a game of pretend relationship with the girl he wrote all his love songs about. On the one hand, it was a great opportunity for him to finally make a move on you. On the other, he was paralyzed by the fear that nothing but rejection awaited him.

"You can pick the place." Hopper said as soon as they got into the car.

"What place?" asked a puzzled Will.

"Where I can bury your bodies when y/n finds out what you've done."

"Oh come on! Everyone knows very well that she has a crush on him!" Dustin exclaimed.

"They're both only have eyes for themselves, we're just helping them finally do something about it." Will tried to defend them. "Just helping!"

"Even if it's true what you're saying, they should come to it by themselves, not by your wild ideas," he sighed. "You know what? It doesn't matter. I'm not going to get involved."

And Jim was right. As soon as you found out what they had done you were furious, yelling at them that they had no right to decide for the two of you and put you in such a strange situation. However, it was too late. Locked in your room, you nervously played with your fingers while looking at the phone standing on the bedside table, not knowing whether you should dial the number to the Munson's house and explain the situation. Apologize for the behavior of these little shits and hope that your relationship will not worsen because of it. Plunged into your thoughts, you didn't even hear the knock at your door. After a moment of unresponsiveness on your part, Jonathan and El entered the room.

"Will told us what happened." began Jonathan slowly, sitting down next to you. El wordlessly followed him. "You know very well that they didn't mean a bad thing," he said.

"You can come in too." You sighed still looking at the door. After a moment, your younger brother emerged from behind the wall and, not knowing what to expect, walked slowly into the room.

"I know that a simple apology is not enough!" he began to defend himself. "But this aunt is really awful person! She started comparing him to his father, she thought Hopper had come to arrest him, or God knows what! She said he would never find a girlfriend, so we wanted to help him a-and then this idea came to our minds! At firs it didn't seem so bad. We thought...I am really sorry y/n."

"It's okay." you said quietly and you extended your hand towards him. "I forgive you." He ignored you hand and hugged you tightly with a relief. 

"Eddie didn't protest, I think he liked the idea." he said quietly and you smiled.

Despite the fact, that thinking that Eddie liked the idea of being your pretended boyfrend for a week made you feel very warm you weren't able to stop thinking about what Will have just told you about his aunt's behaviour. She compared him to his father? Your blood boiled inside you. No one had the right to say such a thing, and you set as your goal to make sure it wouldn't happen again. At least not on your watch.

All Tuesday from the very morning you could not sit still. Lessons went on mercilessly, still thinking about the situation into which you were embroiled. When you told Robin about it at lunch she looked quite excited saying that finally something would happen between you two. She was the only one who knew how you truly felt about him and from the very beginning, she was trying to persuade you to finally do something more than rambling to her about your feelings. In her opinion, Eddie should be the person to actually listen to it. The longer you thought about it the more you had to admit that the excitement was getting to you as well. Yet you still didn't know what Eddie thought about it.

When the final bell rang, you quickly ran out of the school, got on your bike and headed toward Munson's apartment, stopping by a bakery on the way. Once there, you took three deep breaths and knocked on the door, which Wayne opened a moment later.

"And who do we have here?" He asked with a smile.

"Hi Uncle Wayne." You said answering with the same. "Is Eddie home?"

"I don't know where else he could be, come in." He let you in. "This is my sister Theresa and her son Adam. And this is y/n," he said as you walked deeper into the apartment. They were both sitting on the living room couch watching TV.

"It's very nice to meet you!" you said in an over-sweetened tone.

"We are also pleased to meet you." Replied a somewhat puzzled aunt.

"Did I hear my favorite Bayers?" Eddie leaned out of the room with a broad smile. Seeing his reaction you took it as permission to take it a step further.

"It's good to know that my little brother hasn't stolen that title yet." you laughed walking up to him. "Hi, Teddy." You kissed him on his healthy cheek. Not expecting it, he fossilized for a few seconds but after a moment he woke up.

"Hi baby." he said, smacking you on the forehead. "I see you've already met my wonderful family?" he added with a hint of sacrasm.

"Yes, Wayne introduced me." you confirmed. "Did you change the bandages today?" you asked wanting to change the topic.

"Not yet." he said, shrugging his shoulders.

"So here's the plan: First we'll change your bandages, then we'll take care of the school notes I brought you." you announced "Ah! I almost forgot! I was also at the bakery on the way, and I brought your favorite doughnuts."

"I told you she was the best." he said proudly looking his aunt straight in the eyes. Wayne watched you from afar with a smile on his lips. Pretend or not - it was nice to see you in such a position.

When you disappeared behind the bathroom door, free from the prying eyes of his guests, you breathed a sigh of relief.

"Thank you..." he said quietly. "For playing along."

"Will told me about what you heard from her. I thought instead of clawing her eyes out right away we'd show her how wrong she is. If you don't mind, of course."

"Of course I don't. I was afraid it would be you who would mind. Those little shitheads hadn't decided anything about it with me before."

"So since neither of us has anything against it..." you said. "You told them I was the best?"

"Of course, and it wasn't even a lie!"

It took you more than two hours to come to grips with the notes. If Eddie had dispensed with his dramatic episodes the time would have been about half as short, but you were in no hurry. Sitting behind the closed door of his room nothing changed too much, your relationship from the very beginning was very good and full of laughter that reached the eavesdropper Theresa and her son. After finishing his study, Eddie played you some new songs he had written in his spare time. Three of them were related to each other telling the adventure of fighting the worst kind of evil, which was full of throwing fireballs, manipulating thoughts and knife-sharp fangs tearing skin. The fourth had no words yet. That, at least, was the version for you. The piece of paper with its words was tucked deep in the closet along with the rest he had written thinking of you. So that it would never see the light of day.

As dinner time approached Wayne called you into the living room where you helped set the table and get a few things ready. Eddie accompanied you, watching as you casually moved around the space talking and joking with his uncle. Feeling a pleasant warmth on his heart, he thought if it could stay like this forever. The way you jokingly patted his hand when he tried to snack, or when you pretended to be a princess in distress unable to open a jar, so he as a brave knight would come to your rescue. Such behavior was not something new for you, but this time as a wonderful addition, from time to time he could steal a little kiss from you on the cheek, forehead or tip of the nose, or without hesitation hug you from behind when you were standing at the counter cutting vegetables for a salad. You then leaned gently against his frame, creating an enclosure of safety around you. You both tried desperately to remember the feeling you had then if it was about to disappear as quickly as a soap bubble.

"So how did you two meet?" Theresa asked as you all sat down at the table.

"Eddie was friends with my twin brother, Jonathan, so it was only a matter of time before we met." you replied while putting food on your plate and then doing the same only with Eddie's portion. "I must admit that from the very beginning he had something about him that caught my attention." You continued.

"Interesting." she hummed. "Edward, how's the situation at school?"

"What do you mean?"

"Are you going to finally get out of high school? You know you won't be young forever." she paused briefly. "Adam is studying in New York. He's one of the best, he's getting a scholarship."

"That's great." you commented, not wanting to drag the subject further.

"And what are your plans after graduation?" Adam turned to Eddie with a contemptous look.

"I don't know, at this point I'm just trying to get better." He shrugged his shoulders without taking his eyes off the food.

"Eddie is great with cars!" you blurted out. "Before the accident he used to work for a local mechanic, he really appreciated him." You placed your hand on his, which was lying on the table. When you squeezed it gently he looked at you and sent a slight smile showing a dimple in his cheek.

"Well, yes, but without education you can't find a good job," he said.

"I believe that if someone is good at their craft they don't need any high degree at all to succeed. And Eddie is the best, and I'm sure that as soon as he finishes high school this year he will be very successful." Your voice was still kind however this time a hint of firmness could be sensed in it.

The rest of dinner passed in silence. When you had finished eating you helped to clear the table and wash the dishes. Then it was time to go home.

"My mother and Jim are hosting an engagement party this Friday. She said to tell you that you and Adam can also feel invited. It's going to be great fun, right Eddie?" you said already standing at the door.

"Of course sweetheart." he replied with a fake smile hating the idea of them being there with all his heart.

For the last time that day you placed a gentle kiss on his cheek. Although it was gentle Eddie felt as if your lips were leaving a permanent mark there, which imprinted all the way on his heart.

The rest of the week looked similar. Except for the day of Hellfire, you came to him after school bringing notes and spending the rest of the day together. You could get used to such a course of events, unfortunately, when Friday came you felt nostalgic about the fact that this could be the last of the days like this. Theresa and Adam were going home Sunday morning which meant that these were also the last days to enjoy Eddie's closeness. Feeling a weight in your chest, you got off the bike and headed toward the apartment. You didn't expect Adam to open the door for you. He was shirtless. You immediately felt extremely uncomfortable and wanted to turn back but he stopped you.

"Wayne and Eddie went to get some groceries, you can wait for them inside." he said smiling broadly.

"Thanks." you muttered and squeezed past him in the doorway.

"I just finished doing my home workout. You know, we have a gym at the university, so I go there every day, I can't stop." He winked at you coming closer. Responding nothing with a quick step you walked to the living room and began to unpack the contents of your bag. In addition to your notes after school, you entered the store and bought the new figures for D&D that Will kept talking about that they would need for the new campaign. You carried the notes to Eddie's room, then sat down on the couch in the living room and began spreading out the figures and paints on the coffee table. Adam never took his eyes off you, watching your every move making you feel increasingly nervous.

"Do you play this stupid game too?" he asked, sitting down next to you.

"I participate in campaigns from time to time." You replied shrugging your shoulders. Not wanting to lean on the couch as his arm was stretched across the backrest, you aimlessly moved things from one place to another, making you not notice how close he was to you. It reached you when you felt his hand on your cheek. Surprised, you looked in his direction and immediately jumped away standing up on your feet.

"What the hell are you doing?" you shouted.

"Oh come on, don't you wanna mess around? It will be a while before they come back from the store." he said getting up from the couch.

"Jesus, no! Have you lost your mind? What made you even think that I might want something like that?" 

Adam was wrong. Eddie and Wayne returned from shopping, but you were so preoccupied with the situation, and your voice was so loud that you didn't hear the door open. Eddie, seeing you with his half-naked cousin in the living room, felt his heart suddenly get very heavy. He was just turning to leave the apartment and not look at it when Wayne grabbed him by the arm and with a hand gesture showed him to be quiet and watch what would happen next.

"So you're saying all this talk about having a crush on him when he was just your brother's friend is true? You fell in love with a trailer trash who worships Satan? The scars are turning you on?" he smirked. "A better Munson is now standing in front of you, baby, don't waste this opportunity."

"Don't you fucking dare to say one more word!" He crossed the line. It wasn't even about how he behaved toward you. You were too concerned about what he called Eddie. "I tolerated your and your mother's snarky behavior just so I wouldn't make Wayne uncomfortable. But since he's not here now I'm happy to answer your questions. Even homeless Eddie would be much better than you. You don't measure up to him you damn asshole! I don't care about your expensive car you are so enthusiastic about, I'd rather walk everywhere my whole life than get in it. I don't give a shit about your apartment in New York. I would have had a better life homeless under a bridge. And yes, I loved Eddie when he lived in the trailer, I loved that he made me feel at home there, trailer or not I fucking love him so you have to remember that the next time you talk shit about the person I love nothing will hold me back anymore. I will make you regret it for the rest of your miserable life. I'm disgusted with you. I'm disgusted by how self-absorbed idiot you are and how your ego blows the scale. And you are right. You're damn right that these wounds are incredibly attractive. Do you know why? Because they remind me that my Eddie is a fucking hero! You don't even realize how many lives he saved back then! So yes, he and his scars are the hottest in the world and definitely much more hotter than your pathetic gym routine." The words flew out of your mouth like bullets. The shock on his face encouraged you even more but then you heard the door slam.

"Adam?" the voice of Wayne made you tighten your lips into a thin line and take a deep breath.

"Y/n! Good to see you!" he said bringing in the shopping bags.

"Hi Wayne." you said getting the nicest and the calmest tone you could afford at that moment.

"Sweetheart!" before you had time to respond Eddie with a quick step and a wide smile on his lips was already at your side. What you didn't expect, however, was what came next. He cupped your face and kissed you. Eddie was kissing you. You experienced a three-second shock and then completely surrendered to the kiss by placing your hands on his chest. His nose gently touched your cheek, you felt its tip was cold. Yet his lips were burning. Even though the kiss was brief, you felt as if your soul had left your body and had travelled to a completely different dimension. Was it a dream? If so, you didn't want to wake up.

After Eddie heard what you were saying, he felt he had to do it. Many times he saw you defending your loved ones from all kinds of attacks. You weren't afraid to cover Will with your own body when Vecna tried to get him, so verbal attacks were not a problem for you. You also handled this one very well. More than once he had the opportunity to witness this. Now you were doing it for him. This awakened completely new feelings in him. He was sincerely touched and happy. In that moment you gave him something he had not felt since Wayne took him in. He felt wanted and loved. Even if it was pretended at that moment. Nothing could take that moment away from him, so he decided to take a risk. The risk definitely paid off. He enjoyed every second of it. The satisfaction was also a bonus. He wanted to show "the better Munson" that you were his. As if what you said wasn't enough. He wanted the kiss to be a seal saying she is perfect, and she is mine. Damn, he wanted you to be his so bad.

As if nothing ever happened, you sat down on the couch with Eddie and took up painting. You didn't say a word about your exchange with Adam, and Eddie pretended he hadn't witnessed one of the best moments in his life. Painting took you a lot longer than you expected. Plus more because every now and then you glanced in his direction focusing your attention on his mouth as he told you more details of the campaign. Could you have become addicted to something you had only tasted once?

"They are being chased by a pack of wild mutant lions so they run into an old hut where the master of nightmares is waiting for them." He tells you while gesturing with his hands. You're interested in what he's saying, but damn did his lips always look this beautiful? "Earth to y/n!" he yelled clapping his hands.

"Shit, sorry, I zooned out." you woke up suddenly. "So what exactly is it about the master of nightmares?"

"He throws you into a vision that replicates your greatest fears," he said.

"And what is Eddie the Banished's greatest fear?"

Losing you. That was his first thought. "Y'know it will probably be bats." he cuckled and winked at you.

"I am so sorry Eddie, I didn't mean-"

"It's fine, clam down." he said, yawning.

"You're tired, I should go."

"No, stay." he grabbed your hand. "I mean... if you want to of course, I thought you'd wait until they're dry to take some home for Will."

"Oh, sure." a smile crept onto your lips on its own as you accepted the proposition. Lips. You had a feeling you never thought about that particular body part as often as you did today.

"We can chill a little in my room." he suggested. You knew perfectly well what he meant.

"You know very well that I won't agree to this kind of chilling." You crossed your arms over your chest. "Those strange doctors have made it very clear that until the traces of the Upside Down are out of your system for good, there is no question of smoking anything."

"But- please! Have mercy on my poor soul." fell to his knees in front of you making you giggle.

"Don't you dare use those puppy dog eyes on me Munson. It's for your own good." you said softly and tenderly stroked his cheek with your thumb.

"You heartless woman." he faltered, laying his head on your lap.

"Okay, I am able to bear the weight of those words." you chuckled. "There are many other ways to relax, you know? We can listen to music, or read."

"Will you read to me?" he asked raising his face toward you. Big chocolate button eyes glared at you. His face looked so innocent. Rarely did anyone get a chance to see it, since Eddie almost always wore his mask. The fact that he didn't have it with you made you feel very special.

"Come on, adventure awaits!" you helped him stand up and walked to his room. After a moment of deliberation and dithering about whether you should read The Hobbit for the millionth time, you decided that this time it would be some new fantasy book that Wayne had bought Eddie while he was still in the hospital.

"Wayne won't mind that I'm staying this long?"

"Of course not. Besides, we still have some time before they come back."

"We have plenty of time before a pack of wild lions reaches us?"

"And before one of your worst dreams hunts you down" He replied and patted the bed indicating for you to lie down next to him. With that, you began to read, but after a short time you both began to get sleepy. The dim light of the bedside lamp, the warmth that eminated from the two of you, the comfort and peace that you felt in each other's company succulently lulled you to sleep. When you heard a quiet snoring in mid-sentence you looked at its source with tenderness in your eyes. Feeling your own eyelids getting incredibly heavy you put the book aside. Just five minutes. You thought and, moving closer to the boy, allowed yourself a small nap.

It was not as small as you thought.

"Yes, Joyce, you have nothing to worry about." Wayne said. "They were already asleep when we got home, I don't want to wake them up. Yes, I'm sure. They will manage, they are adults. Yes, it won't be a problem for sure. Okay, bye. See you tomorrow." Eddie lazily opened his eyes and rubbed them with one hand. He listened to his uncle's words looking on in disbelief that you were still here. And much closer than before he fell asleep. He brushed your hair away from your face as gently as he could so as not to wake you up.

"Hey, kid." Wayne whispered. "I talked to Joyce, she can stay."

"Thanks, Wayne."

The man smiled and winked at him, closing the door behind him. Eddie took the blanket that lay at the other end of the bed and covered you. In your sleep you turned your back to him and he took the opportunity to embrace you becoming a big spoon. Feeling you move even closer and snuggle into him he thought his heart was about to explode. Your back touched his abdomen causing a slight pain in the areas of the still healing wounds, but this pain was bearable. Besides, it was nothing compared to the happiness he felt. 

As the first rays of sunlight broke through the cracks in his blinds and his watch indicated the unmercifully early hour Eddie sighed unhappily. He had never been one of the early birds, and there was no promise of change in that regard. When he opened his eyes he remembered why he was actually sleeping in his clothes. You must have turned in the night because now your face was facing his. You kept one hand under the pillow and the other lay on his side. He wanted to close the gap between you and wake you up with a kiss like in one of the cheap rom-coms, but he didn't know if he could let himself do that. Kissing you in front of his cousin was justified, since you were going to pretend to be a couple, you had to be convincing, but wouldn't doing it when it was just the two of you be too much? He was weighing all the pros and cons when he noticed your eyes slowly open.

"Good morning Eddie." you said stretching.

"Good morning, panda." he replied in a whisper. You looked at him questioningly, and with his thumb he lightly rubbed the black mascara marks under your eyes that must have formed there overnight.

"Oh, shit." you said while covering your face. "'m sorry." you muttered and sat down on the bed.

"Don't be, you look cute." So cute I want to kiss you again and again and... again. His brain didn't let go recalling these visions every now and then. Instead, he simply told you that if you wanted to dress up you could borrow something from his closet. Since your top was a bit sweaty after the sleep, you agreed by taking one of the Hellfire shirts and went to quickly get yourself cleaned up in the bathroom. Then you waited for Eddie to shower and get dressed and helped him with his bandages as you always do. You had seen him shirtless countless times, but now that he was sitting in front of you on the bathtub in only loose sweatpants you were overcome by a feeling that you only allowed yourself in the privacy of your room by fantasizing about your friend. You were afraid of the fact that these fantasies were now at your fingertips, and before you could stop yourself your hand actually moved toward him. Eddie, as if in a trance, equally enchanted by the moment, watched your every move. Your fingers gently traced a path on his body. Starting with a healthy cheek, continuing on his neck, shoulder and then chest.

"Do you like what you see, sweetheart?" he said, unable to catch his breath.

"Very," you whispered biting your lower lip.

"I like what I see, too." He confirmed by pushing your hair off your shoulder. He imitated your movements. Starting by gently brushing your face, neck and arm which was slightly exposed by the fact that his shirt was too big on you. Your breathing became faster and faster as you rested your forehead against his. His hands quickly found their way to your waist pulling you as close to him as he could. And then you kissed him. No matter how close you stood to each other until your lips were joined the gap was too huge. Initially shy and tentative sparks ignited a fire. The desire that had been bubbling inside you for a long time exploded. Still kissing you, he got up from the tub pushing you toward the wall so that you were trapped between it and him. Trapped? You were not going to escape even if you were to burn in this fire. As he laid wet marks on your neck you sank your hand into his curls. The temperature was hotter than hell when you felt his hands go under the shirt you were wearing. His lips returned to yours as he pressed his body against yours and you felt how hard he was. You thought you were going crazy.

"Eddie..." You didn't control the moan that spontaneously left your mouth.

"Yes, Angel?" he asked pulling away from you. His eyes were darker than usual but on his lips was the same smile as always. The same dimple-showing smile that made your knees weaken.

"Please." That was all you could get out of yourself before you put your hands on his neck pulling him close. This time he was the one who moaned right into your mouth and started to roll up your shirt to take it off. And then a fire truck arrived. A huge bucket of icy water to extinguish the big fire between you. A big downpour called Theresa.

"Hello? I think you've already finished changing the bandages! Some people need to use the restroom!" she shouted, knocking quickly and hard on the door. Of course she was eavesdropping. Of course she was doing her best to squeeze in where she wasn't needed. Eddie moved away from you and unlocked the bathroom door. Visibly angry, he passed his aunt without a word and went to his room to get dressed. He was definitely uncomfortable with the fact that they could see his wounds. When he returned, he noticed you in the hallway putting your shoes on. Seeing his sad expression you smiled slightly.

"I have to go help my mom get everything ready for tonight's party." You explained grabbing his hand. "But don't miss too much, we'll see each other in a few hours, right?"

"Yeah." one corner of his mouth lifted

"See you later." In farewell you kissed him on the cheek and left the apartment. Leaving him alone with thoughts of what the hell  just happened.

When you got home, you didn't have much of a chance or time to think about the morning's events. You and the rest of the household threw yourselves into the whirlwind of preparations. You sat with Mom and El in the kitchen while Jonathan and Will helped prepare the garden, carrying chairs and tables there. After some time, Steve and Eddie also came to help. Because of his condition, Eddie stayed close to you in the kitchen and Steve went to help set things up in the garden. There was a kind of tension between you and the metalhead, but it wasn't bad. All the time you were sending each other glances and smiles. When you handed him vegetables to cut, his fingers brushed yours. The tiny gestures created a kind of attraction between you, which was terribly hard to resist. Despite everything, you did not bring up the subject of what happened just a few hours ago in the bathroom.

The party was going on at its best, Hopper and Wayne were sipping beers while keeping an eye on the meat on the grill, and right next to them at the table sat Joyce, the Sinclairs, Mrs. Henderson, Jonathan, Will, Eddie, and Theresa with Adam, who today was being extraordinarily, suspiciously nice to Eddie. Shouts and laughter came from the other end of the garden. Together with Dustin, El, Robin, Argyle and Steve you were playing fresbee, while Lucas and Max cheered you on from the sidelines. The disc flew out of your hands almost every time though you didn't give up. Seeing your persistence Eddie couldn't hold back a smile.

"Eddie!" shouted Will. "Are you even listening to me?" he rolled his eyes.

"Of course! You were talking about the new campaign."

"Yeah! What exactly?" Silence and the Dungeon Master's reddened face was the only answer he got.

"Will give him a break, you can see that something else is on his mind." interjected Jonathan. "Or rather, someone?"

"Is that someone our sister?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." he muttered while covering his face with his hair.

"So, Theresa! How is life in New York for you, life in the city must be very interesting!" the voice of Joyce caught the attention of all three so they turned their heads towards the aunt.

"Oh, it is! It's also very hard. It's hard to maintain the role of the Munsons, who have not followed in the family footsteps." she laughed artfully. "Fortunately, we're doing great with Adam."

Eddie's leg began bouncing under the table at an incredibly fast pace.

"What does that mean?" Joyce asked a visibly confused.

"Our family doesn't have a very good reputation, as you well know. Not many of us are able to get out of a miserable life in a penny trailer or avoid owning a police cartorette." She sent Eddie a quick glance, through which he knew he was about to receive the final blow. As his aunt continued, his leg began to move even faster, which did not escape the Byers brothers' attention. They both sent each other somewhat frightened glances but did nothing, waiting for the situation to unfold. "When we found out that Eddie was wanted for murder we were immediately horrified that he had followed in his father's footsteps-" she didn't have time to finish when Eddie stood up abruptly looking at her. Father. A word that caused even more pain than the pack of demobats tearing through his body.

"Don't-" he began in a shaky voice. "Don't you dare mention him. Don't you dare call that man my father, you understand." he tried to be calm. In truth, with all his might he wanted to be self-controlled now, but it all seemed too much. All week he had bravely endured everything she said about him. But now when she did it in front of everyone he cared about, when she did it in front of your family, pulling the strongest card in the process he couldn't stand it. Wayne and Hopper became alarmed and walked closer to the table, but that didn't stop him. "This man is nobody to me. A stranger. A fucking sperm donor nothing more. He is a murderer. He killed my mother, and your sister. His last name is Davis. Not Munson." He felt something tighten in his throat. Something making it difficult for him to breathe. "My father's name is Wayne Munson. He raised me, he changed my last name, so don't you ever dare call that man my father again." Saying all this, he looked her straight in the eye. He wanted to make sure she understood every single word he said. Feeling tears come to his eyes and he quickly turned away walking into the house. He couldn't afford to cry in her presence. That's why it wasn't until he was in your room that everything he held inside gave vent. Angrily, he grabbed a pillow from the bed and threw it with all his strength onto the floor then sat on it himself while leaning against the bed. He took the pillow cuddling his face into it. As the smell of your scent filled his nostrils even more tears flowed into his eyes. Like tentacles full of venom, thoughts of Aunt Theresa being right wrapped around his mind. He thought he wasn't worthy of you. Maybe she was right that he didn't have a good future ahead of him. If he couldn't provide it for himself how could he provide it for you as well? How could a freak hated by the whole city be worthy of someone as wonderful as you? He felt like screaming. At that moment he hated himself even more than his aunt.

"I thought I'd find you here." Hopper said as he entered the room and sat down next to him.

"Yeah?" Eddie earned a smile while wiping away tears.

"Actually, I think that would be everyone's first thought."

"So obvious."

"Listen... I shouldn't say this, but your aunt is really insufferable. Don't worry, okay? Everything she said was one big bullshit."

"Looking at how many times I rode with you in the police car I wouldn't agree," his words were bitter and full of sadness.

"I know you Eddie. I admit that at some point you were not on my list of favorites, but later I got to know you from a different side as well, and I have to admit that Wayne did a great job raising you."

"Wayne is a great guy," he said.

"So are you." Seeing Eddie only nodding in the negative, he sighed heavily and continued. "I know the man your aunt was talking about. And you are nothing like him. You almost died protecting my kids. You are a hero. And you make one of my daughters damn happy, so as far as I'm concerned you're one of the best people I've met in this messed up life."

"You think I make her happy?" the wall of sadness was shot through with tiny hope.

"Very happy. That's why I don't even want to dig into why she came home in your T-shirt today."

"That- it's not what you think," he began to explain.

"I said I don't want to hear about it. Besides, she came back today very smiling. I haven't seen her like that in a long time."

"Eddie what happened? Jim?" when you noticed that Eddie had disappeared from the table you asked Will where he had gone, and he only said that towards the house, without giving you any details. Moments later you found him sitting on the floor with Hopper. His eyes were a little puffy and red, and you knew he had been crying. You were afraid that Hopper might have said something that led to this, and as if reading your mind he raised his hands in a defensive gesture.

"I didn't do anything. Your boy just felt a little worse, you know yourself how wounds can sometimes give you a hard time."

Hearing this seconds later you were on your knees next to Eddie. "Do you need painkillers? Maybe you need to rest? You can stay here and sleep." With concern in your eyes, you watched his eyes become even glassier. "What can I do to help you, Eddie?" without a word he pulled you close with a hug. You were his safe heaven. He knew that with you he could be vulnerable. "Eddie, I don't want to hurt you, I don't want your wounds to hurt you even more." You said quietly scared that such closeness could inflict more pain on him.

"I don't care 'bout them," he muttered into your hair.

"Come down to us when you're feeling better, we'll be making a fire soon to toast marshmallows." Hopper said, leaving you alone.

The two of you sat cuddled together for some more time. When you returned to the rest of the party, you didn't leave his side for a moment, making sure he was feeling fine and everything was okay. The rest of the evening passed peacefully, especially when you all sat around the campfire listening to the melody of the acoustic guitar that "slays dragons."

When the day of salvation arrived and the intruders left the Munson kingdom Eddie could breathe a sigh of relief. Even Wayne admitted that their visit was too much to bear and they deserved a rest. Still, Eddie could not rest. Staring at the ceiling, he wondered what your relationship would look like now. Will you forget everything that happened? Such as how close you were to each other? He tried everything to clear his head. Playing his guitar, writing songs, planning campaigns, drawing- nothing. Completely nothing was able to pull his thoughts off track. Countless times he approached the phone and was already almost grabbing the receiver but chickened out at the last moment. At the point when he could no longer handle himself he sat down on the couch with Wayne and they watched TV in silence. But whatever was playing on it didn't help. Then he heard a knock on the door. The thought crossed his mind that maybe it was his aunt who had returned, which in itself made him feel sick. Fortunately, it was you. Although the look on your face didn't indicate that you just came here to hang out. You were nervously biting your lips and your eyebrows crinkled together as you played with your fingers.

"Eddie, we need to talk." you said when he let you in and without a word you went to his room.

"What's wrong? I know pretending to love me for a week was hard, but I didn't think it was that hard." he tried to joke.

"Shut up!" you exclaimed. Your lower lip began to shake and tears came to your eyes. You had thought about the course of this conversation many times before coming here, but you didn't expect to be so carried away by your emotions. Seeing his surprised and then somewhat hurt look made you feel terrible for having erupted like that. He deserved an explanation. He deserved the truth. He didn't deserve yelling at him, for sure.

"I'm sick of how badly you talk about yourself. I'm sick of how you think you're not worth loving, because- because loving you is easy, Eddie! The easiest." you began, feeling like you were about to die of nerves, but you came here with a purpose and you were going to fulfill it. "I want to love you the way you deserve it. And you deserve the purest, the most honest and the strongest kind of love in the whole world. And I know that if you only let me, I will be able to give it to you. But I want you to know that I will understand if you don't feel the same way about me," the last words passed through your throat with extreme difficulty. You were ready to take the risk. A broken heart was a better option than keeping your feelings for him hidden. Especially since you had the opportunity to see what life at his side might look like. It looked like a dream. And you have to fight for dreams.

"You know I'm not the best at talking about feelings." he sighed. "So I'll use a little help," he said taking a couple of D&D figures in his hand and sat down on the bed. You sat down across from him. "If this were one of the campaigns I would say that a very important part was when Eddie the Banished and Y/n Golden Heart had a battle that lasted a week with two, extremely nasty monsters," the figurines portrayed a small fight scene. " After the monsters were gone they both met, in King Harrington's palace in the lobby, just by the door. Not feeling like feasting, they sneaked out and climbed onto the roof of a small shed that was nearby. Under the cover of night, they felt like they were the only people in the world. The night was beautiful. And the fact that evil was not lurking just around the corner gave it an added charm. The wind gently rustled between the trees, the hushed sounds of the feast could be heard in the background, and they were so immersed in a conversation they had created that they forgot about everything else. They talked about comets, about the next adventure that awaited them, about anything they wanted to talk about. The stars in the sky shone brighter than usual. They heralded the beginning. A good beginning." He grabbed your hand. It was a little sweaty because he vas nervous but you didn't care about it at all.

"How do you know it's a good one?" you asked quietly sniffing and feeling that you were calming down. You've always known that Eddie is amazing at storytelling, but this was the first time it involved something so sensitive.

"As the first shades of orange appeared in the sky and the sun gently began to illuminate his companion's face, Eddie the Banished realized a very meaningful matter."

"What kind of matter?" you waited impatiently for the continuation.

"From the very beginning as soon as y/n Golden Heart appeared in his life he couldn't stop thinking about her. He couldn't remember anything because all his thoughts were directed only toward her. At first he thought she charmed him with a bunch of curses, after all she was the most powerful witch in the kingdom. Because of this, he thought, he felt a constant need and desire to always be by her side. Having once been under the influence of the fumes created by the powerful herbalist Argyle, he wondered what kind of magic it would take to reduce him to the size of a rat, so that he could hide in a pocket in her robe to be by her side for a few moments longer." He laughed, and you dreamily listened on. "His life was like a hurricane. It rushed dangerously with unimaginable speed bringing with it a lot of destruction and dangerous changes. But despite the hurricane, he waited for a warmer front. That morning when y/n the Golden Heart closed her eyes and smiled slightly feeling the warm rays of the sun surround her face, he realized that she was the warmer front. They had survived a lot, rescued each other by pulling out of fires and getting out of rivers, defeated the scariest monsters in the kingdom. And they were together. They never left each other's side. It reached him that his feelings were not caused by curses. What he felt was stronger than a curse. It was love. Simply put, he was in love with her, and to his last breath he wanted to be with her."

"Eddie..."

"Yeah?"

"How many points do I have to roll to kiss you right now?" hearing this sentence from your mouth he knew that nothing more was needed for his happiness, so without hesitation he joined your lips together.

Eddie was right that this was the beginning. A very good beginning.

taglist: @i-me-mine

[jamdoughnutmagician]

A Slice Of Life (Waitress AU) Part 2

Doctor!Steve Harrington x Waitress!Reader

<- Previous part Next part ->

Warnings: Steve is a sweet guy in this, and Billy continues to be a horrible husband. Brief mentions/descriptions of sex.

Word Count:2,158

*dividers by @saradika-graphics

Masterlist // Steve Harrington Masterlist

Quickly you rush into work, the time on your watch already ticking into your shift. You’re running late.

You push through the diner doors, and sure enough Hopper is there to greet you, with a stern expression set on his features. His moustache sitting over his lips pressed into a thin line.

“You were supposed to be here ten minutes ago.”

“Cut me some slack, Hop, the bus was late.” you huff as you try your best to straighten yourself out.

“Why don’t that husband of yours buy you a car or something?”

“Because he doesn't want me going anywhere.” you scoff, pushing past him to the back room to get changed into your waitressing uniform.

As you step out of the room, Nancy is there to catch your eye.

“How did you get on at the doctors this morning?” 

“Well, I’m definitely pregnant, if that’s what you’re asking.” you laugh to yourself. “It was a new doctor. A man. He’s taken over since Doctor Bloom retired.”

“Ooh a man? Was he cute?” she joked, nudging you with her elbow.

Nancy watched as the heat bloomed on your face, your eyes not meeting hers.

“Oh, okay so he was definitely cute.” she gathers from your embarrassed expression. “Is he single?”

“Nance!” you gently slap at her arm, you’d been friends with Nancy for too long for her not to know when you liked someone. “Okay, he was kinda cute, I guess. Didn’t see any ring on his finger either.” 

“Hey, could you do me a huge favour?” 

“Sure, what’s up Nance?”

“Can you serve Joyce today? She’s in her usual seat by the window. I don’t know if I have the energy to face her this early in the morning.”

“Sounds like someone's got a guilty conscience? You poke at your friend.

“Just because you know I’m sleeping with her son, does not give you the right to hold it over me. She smiles, narrowing her eyes at you. “Joyce. Table 7. Please.” she begs.

“Alright, alright. I got it. No need to get your panties in a bunch.”

“Darling, you’re an absolute angel.” she says with a pat on your shoulder as she whizzes off to tend to the other guests sitting at their tables.

Coffee pot in hand you make your way over to Joyce’s table where she’s sat by herself, reading over a glossy magazine.

“Good morning, Joyce.” you smile brightly, filling up her coffee mug. “What can I get for you today?”

“This is my pie diner, you know?” she starts her usual morning ramble. “Jim likes to think he runs things here, but this is my place. I own it. It’s my name on the deeds, and it’s my name above the door.”

“I know Joyce,” you nod as you listen to her, suddenly feeling un-easy sick feeling settling in the pit of your stomach. You suppress it as best you can for now, to take her order. “So, what’ll it be today huh?”

There it was again, that nauseous feeling creeping up your throat, the kind that leaves a bad taste in your mouth. That couldn’t be morning sickness already, could it?

“I’ll have a slice of the “Midnight Mulberry” pie please, and a glass of water with ice when you get the chance, Hon.”

Midnight Mulberry. A dark chocolate pie shell filled with sharp black mulberries and blackberries, the sharpness offset by the dollop of fresh cream served on top of the chocolate lattice work on the top of the pie.  

“Alright, got it, one slice of Midnight Mulberry coming right up.” you say jotting down her order on your notepad quickly before turning on your heels to rush off to the bathroom.

“Wait a moment, before you skedaddle off, let me read you my horoscope.” she says, her eyes looking back to the magazine in her hands. 

“Libra, smooth sailing today as Mars enters your inner circle, whatever the hell that means. The ones you love will listen carefully to you today, just make sure you’re careful with what you say.” she finishes as she puts her magazine down “do you want to hear your horoscope, darling?”

“You know what, I’m a Libra too, the same as you. If you’ll excuse me I feel like I’m going to be sick.” your words rush out as you hot-foot it to the bathroom stalls in the back of the diner.

After you had emptied the contents of your stomach into the toilet bowl, and washed your mouth out with water from the tap, you head back out onto the diner floor to collect Joyce’s order and bring it to her table.

“Here you go, one slice of Midnight Mulberry and a glass of water.” you smile, placing her pie down in front of her.

“You’re pregnant, aren’t you?” she asks all-too-knowingly.

You shush her, not wanting anyone else around to hear her.

“I remember when I was pregnant with Jonathan, I could barely keep any food down for the first few months, nearly every smell made me sick, it was awful.” she sips from her glass of her water. “When are you due?”

“Shh, Joyce, I can’t have Hopper hearing you or I’ll lose my job. I’m trying to save enough money so I can get away from my husband, but you’ve got to promise me that you won’t say anything about this baby, okay?”

“What baby?” she smiles at you with a wink. 

“That’s what I like to hear.”

Sitting next to Robin in her small, run-down car as she gives you a lift home, because apparently Billy had been too busy at work to pick you up, although the background chatter from the bar he would frequent after work told you otherwise. However, any thoughts of your husband are elsewhere, as you mindlessly watch as the hazy sunset breezes past your window.

“Billy has no idea that you're pregnant, does he?” Robin says softly, breaking the comfortable silence. 

“No, he doesn’t. And I'm never going to tell him. I’m just going to run away.”

“How much money have you got saved up?”

“Not much, about $1,000, and I can save up a bit more before the big pie bake-off.”

“And how much is the prize money?” she asks, her fingers gently tapping a rhythm on the steering wheel.

“$25,000.” you reply with a grin curving across your lips.

“Wow. So what pie were you thinking of baking?”

“I’m not sure yet. I was thinking of baking one of my more unusual pies. Y’know, the kind where you don’t think the ingredients are going to work together, but then they do.”

“You know what you could do with that prize money though,” Robin says, her eyes briefly flicking over to you.

“What’s that Rob?”

“You could open up your own pie shop.”

“C’mon Rob, that’s crazy talk.” you scoff with a playful laugh at your friend’s suggestion.

“No, I’m serious, you totally could. "The Pie Palace’’ I can just see the sign in my mind!” she laughs, her freckled cheeks round and rosy.

The morning comes and you find yourself sitting on the bench a block away from your house, waiting for the bus to take you to work. Closing your eyes, you allow yourself to think about the life growing inside of you, and what your life might look like with a baby in the picture.

Baby’s screaming its head off in the middle of the night pie.

New York style cheesecake base, brandy-brushed filled with pecans warmly spiced with cinnamon and nutmeg.

“Hello.” comes a voice from beside you. “Mind if I sit?” 

It’s your Doctor, Doctor Harrington.

“Sure, go ahead.” you gesture to the empty space on the bench beside you.

He sits down in comfortable silence next to you.

“So what’s a doctor doing catching the bus, huh? Thought you’d have some big fancy car or something” 

He chuckles, a gentle rumbling laugh that illuminates his face with a bright smile.

“Oh no, I do have a big fancy car,” he jokes with that charming smile. “..it’s just having a few problems at the moment. Friend of mine who runs an auto shop downtown is looking after it for me.”

“So, do you live far from the Doctor’s Practice?” you ask, the flow of conversation between you 

“Uh, no, not too far. I live over on Ashmore Road.” 

“Oh, it’s nice over there.”

“Yeah it’s nice. Lotta trees, which is good, uh, y’know, if you like trees. I mean who doesn’t like trees?” he stumbles over his words with an adorably nervous cadence.

“Trees are good.” you smile back, nodding to him.

“So, you’re a waitress then?” he asks, as he gestures at your blue and white waitress's dress.

“I am. I work in a little diner just off I70, Byer’s Pie Diner.”

“I’ve never been there. Is it..is it good?”

“Yes, it’s very good. We make all the pies there fresh. Breakfast pies, dinner pies, twenty-seven different varieties of pie, and a new house special that I create every day.” you smile. “I was actually just inventing a new one in my head when you walked up.”

“So, that peach and raspberry pie that you brought me, you made it?” He asks, sitting up a bit straighter and turning his body towards you.

“Indeed I did. Peaches In Paradise Pie.” 

“That was quite possibly the best pie that I have ever tasted in my life.” he says, his bright smile somehow feeling even more brighter than before. “I mean, that pie was like, life-changingly good, that’s how good it was. You could win contests with stuff like that, I’m serious.”

You delight in his praises, smiling to yourself at the kind words of this man.

“Well thank you very much.”

There’s a beat of silence that falls between you both before Steve speaks again.

“Y’know, when I was a kid, I used to go to this diner all the time after school, I had this insane crush on this waitress that worked there, her name was Margaret but everyone called her Peggy. She’d always wear her little uniform, and she was just so damn adorable, ” he admits shyly. “Of course I was just a dumb kid and didn’t realise that she would never see me in the same way that I saw her, but I don’t know, when I saw you sitting here, you just reminded me of her.”

“Wow, that is quite the thing to say.”

“Sorry, I guess in a round-about way I was just trying to pay you a compliment.” he blushes. 

“No, it was a nice thing to hear, thank you. No-one ever really notices me in that way.”

“Well, I suppose someone must’ve noticed you in that way, or you wouldn’t be in the condition you’re in.” he says, his head vaguely nodding towards your stomach.

“Ah, yes, you mean my husband.” you nod, you’re brought back to reality, suddenly all too aware that you’re a married woman flirting with a handsome man. If Billy only knew what you were doing, his hand would be stinging your skin in an instant. 

The bus rolls up to the bus stop.

“Here’s my bus. It was nice talking to you, Doctor Harrington.”

“If there’s ever anything you need, anything at all, don’t hesitate to call, and please, call me Steve.” he smiles as he waves you off as you get on the bus.

“Please, Honey, you know I can make you feel real good.” Billy pleads as he mouths at your neck, trailing sloppy kisses into the crook of your neck that only served to make your skin crawl. “It’s been at least a month since I last felt you, and you know a man like me has needs.”

“Billy please, I don’t feel even the littlest bit sexy right now.”

“Honey, you have never been more sexy to me.” his raspy voice gravelled out. “I mean, call me crazy, but your tits are looking a lot bigger than before. Not that I’m complainin’ about that, of course.” he chuckles, his wandering hands grazing over your chest, feeling up the swell of your breast. 

You fight against the shudder that wants to run down your spine.

“You’re probably just imagining things Billy.”

“Honey, please, you’re killing me here, I gotta be with you.”

 You lay back in the bed, totally out of it as Billy holds himself above you, chasing his own high, sloppily rolling his hips into you whilst he huffs out groaning moans, before flopping down in bed next to you.

“That was so good, Honey.” he groaned once before turning his back to you and falling asleep without a single thought about your pleasure, but that was your husband. Uncaring and selfish. 

Lying back, your eyes cast up to the ceiling, you think about how different your life might have been if you’d never met Billy Hargrove. 

@penguinsandpotterheads @paybacksawitch @mrsjellymunson @seatnights @ali-r3n @potatobeanpies

[arriansarchive]

Yoooo, could you do a Eddie Munson x Male reader where the reader's Hopper's son and Eddie's just crushing big time like an adorable lil bean that he is? Lol, thanks.

Eddie Munson/Male!Hopper!Reader

Okay I didn't really know where to go with this so I hope headcanons are alright

I really like this request thank you 👍

Headcanon prompt(s): look at the request above my notes

I'm guessing your in highschool together so maybe you join the DND club?

From the moment he sees you enter he's just completely enamoured with your existence

He asks you subtle questions at first but then it gets more and more personal so everybody catches on kind of quick

Dustin first of course being the smart boy he is

He stays after a DND session one day and once you leave immediately starts bombarding Eddie with inquisitions about what he likes about you

He's Eddie's little wingman

Your dad, Jim Hopper, knows about Eddie because he sells the weed and stuff and lives in the trailer park so whenever he finds out your hanging out with him it's a little hard to convince him that you'll be okay with a drug dealer

But hey you can take care of yourself so it's fine

Mike would end up spilling Eddie's secret little crush on you somehow during a DND game or just a simple hangout

Mikes just an airhead like that

Whenever Eddie finally admits to it after a long while of denying, you of course say yes

Okay back to whenever he was pining

He would make little hints that he liked you but would never say it outright

He definitely made you secret admirer letters that he put in your locker

He gets more touchy with you than anybody else

End notes: okay that's all I got THANK YOU ANON

[lightvixxen]

stress relief

So my amazing friend ceebs or @maladaptive-day-dreams convinced me to write a st x cm crossover and well...Hopper/Reader/Hotch was born.

SUMMARY: Hopper and Hotch are working late when they decide to have some fun with the shoplifter that got dragged into the station earlier that day

WC:3134

WARNINGS: spit roasting, degrading, MMF threesome, reader's age is not confirmed but she IS 18+, spoiled brat! reader, rich!reader, modern!st, choking, name-calling, basic cm shit. not proofread

The BAU was called into a small town of indiana, Hawkins to be exact, the run of the mill serial killer who had a knack for kidnapping. The team could already tell this was going to be a hard case, seeing as the killer didn’t seem to have a type.

“How long does he keep them?” Emily pipes up, the file was already hard to Figure out since there was apparently no specific time frame the killer stuck to. 

“As of now that is undetermined…the local police there doesn’t have a single lead despite how small the town is.” Hotch told her, “Which is the exact reason we’ve been called in. They’ve been dealing with most likely the same killer for years so they thought a fresh pair of eyes would be good.” 

“So they have basically nothing?” The team asks at the same time, and Hotch nods. 

“It’s definitely not ideal but we have delt with worse…” Hotch’s statement was met with a chorus of agreement, they have delt with worse evidence before. 

Once the jet landed the team immediately went to the Hawkins police department, not wanting to waste another second not solving this case. Walking into the department they were almost immediately met with a bustling space of police officers. As they stood there looking around trying to find anyone that could help them, they hear a deep voice from behind them. 

“You guys the BAU?” the voice asks, as they turn around they’re met with a broad man with facial hair, he was a little chubby but they could tell he was at least a little fit. 

“Yes we are, I’m Unit Cheif Aaron Hotchner, this is SSA Morgan, JJ, Prentiss and Dr. Reid.” Hotch introduces each of them, pointing to the respective person.

“I’m Jim Hopper, chief of police.” They do the routine of shaking hands before Hopper shows them where they can set up.

“So what do you know about the killer we’re working with?” Hotch asks, hoping that getting information out of the file they were giving would somehow help them. 

Hopper scratches his head “Only that he’s one sick son of a bitch, while the time he keeps his victims are undetermined…we never find them, its like they just vanish into thin air.” Hotch nods, “okay, yeah, that’s actually helpful.” Hopper nods, before leaving them to work. 

—---

It had Only been a week and the team and the entire police department were stressed out of their minds. Still no new leads, suspects, nothing, It was as if the Killer was a ghost or something. It was 2pm when they dragged in a screaming girl, saying something about how her father will bail her out. They dragged her back into a holding cell about 20 minutes later as they weren’t getting an answer from anyone they called. 

Hotch walked out to where Hopper was standing with his arms crossed, looking over some officers desk and at his computer. 

“Don’t forget this is her third time-” Hopper looked over to Hotch with a questioning look. 

“Who was that? A suspect or-” 

Hopper laughed at his question, “God no, that was y/n l/n, she has some sticky fingers and has gotten caught shoplifting about three times now…we call her our resident spoiled brat. She comes from a rich family that resides here in Hawkins.” 

Hotch’s eyebrows raised at hearing that you came from a rich family. 

“If she’s rich why does she feel the need to shoplift?” 

“Daddy doesn’t give her attention, never has, i’ve caught her flirting with multiple of my officers before aswell.” 

Hotch nods “The typical daddy issues story…of course.” 

—--

It was late, Hotch was at one of the open desks, he needed to get out of the confined office space that was the conference room they were set up in before he went crazy. 

He looked over at the clock that told him it was about 1:15. He sighed, looking over to where Hopper was. 

“Did anyone ever come and get that one girl that got brought in earlier?” 

Hopper looked up from the file he was focused on and shook his head. 

“Nope, we called her daddy probably 5 times and he didn’t pick up, my guess is he’s tired of bailing his troublemaker daughter out.” Hotch laughed at that, usually in rich families that is the case, especially if its already known she’s trouble. 

“You’d think he’d be trying to cover up her arrest by now” 

“Oh he did the first two times…but this time she got caught at a busy hour with hundreds of people watching and word travels fast in a town like this.” 

Hotch laughs and nods once again, going back to the file infront of him. Another hour went by before Hopper got up grabbing Aarons attention. 

“I’m gonna check on our spoiled prisoner? Wanna come? Stretch your legs a little…actually fix your posture?” Hopper asks him and Aaron agrees, getting up and following the other man into the holding cell area. 

You were sat on the bed that they placed in the cell, leaning against the wall and facing the bars, you had no idea what time it was but the lack of guards told you that it was late. You perked up and the sound of a door opening and the sound of footsteps approaching, you had hoped it was Hopper or one of the officers coming with your father. 

While the man that accompanied Hopper wasn’t your father you definitely weren’t disappointed. He was tall and broad, dark hair resting ontop of his head and a suit telling that wasn’t a cop, he was fucking hot, he practically oozed dominance, just like Hopper did, telling you he was in a positon of power. 

“Ooo who’s this?” you ask, getting up from your spot and walking up to the bars and leaning against them, hoping to get a better look of the mystery man. “You are definitely not a cop..” 

Hotch looks down at you, and heat travels straight to your core at the realization that even from behind the bars he still has to look down to see you. 

“Your right, i’m a FBI agent.” God even his voice was sexy, you bit your lip staring at him, before you turned your attention to Hopper. 

“Why are you guys here? Did daddy finally pick up?” you ask the two men, only to be met with a head shake. 

“You might be stuck here for a little while if your waiting for your daddy to bail you out.” Hopper told you and you groaned. 

“Then why the fuck are you here?” 

“Just to check on you, the routine.” 

You leaned against the bars once again, bored out of your mind. 

“Can’t you just…let me go? I mean you already know the bail and fine will be paid…” 

Hopper sighed, “You know damn well I can’t do that, its a good way to lose my job.” 

You pouted, giving him your best puppy eyes, 

“Pleasee Hop…I promise to be on best behavior when I get out, I won’t tell anyone, pink promise!” 

“No is the final answer sweetheart, Those puppy eyes have no effect on me and you know that. Also how many times have I told you not to call me that. 

While you were talking to Hopper Aaron finally got a good look at you, you were wearing a short white crop top that read ‘angel’ across your boobs, paired with an equally short pink skirt, if you could even call it that, it only came up to the tops of your thighs. 

“Can you at least let me out for a little bit? I’m bored out of my mind in here.” Aaron looked at Hopper, expecting him to say no and just leave it at that, instead he fished the cells keys out of his pocket and unlocked the cell. 

“Turn around.” he told you in a stern voice 

“Seriously you know I won’t-” 

“He said turn around, your lucky we’re even letting you leave this cell at all.” Hotch snapped at you, using the same tone Hopper had. You rolled your eyes before turning around and placing your hands behind your back. 

You felt warm hands before the cold metal of the handcuffs, you guessed it was Hopper because of how rough he was with your arms. 

“Ow! Too tight!” you whined when he tightened them, your back automatically straightening at the pressure on your wrists.

“They’re not and you know it, stop being fucking dramatic.” you heard Hoppers gruff voice from behind you before he escorted you out to the office area of the police department. 

“Sit” He told you, pushing you into the chair next to his desk, you did what you were told, just glad you were out of the dingy cell. Looking around the station you were able to stare at the FBI agent, noticing the obvious stress on both of their faces. 

“Hey FBI agenttt” you called out to him in a singsongy voice, grabbing his attention, once you were sure you had his attention you asked his name, since neither him or Hopper had mentioned it. 

“My name is Aaron Hotchner.” He told you with the most monotone voice you have probably heard come from anyones mouth. You smiled at him, before looking at Hopper. 

“Why can’t you be that nice to me? He actually gave me a clear answer without calling me a name…” you pouted and  Hopper looked at you before looking towards Aaron, “Because he doesn’t know how much of a spoiled brat you can be.”

“But I think I’m starting to learn.” Aaron chimed in, you gasped, looking at both men infront of you, 

“I’m not a spoiled brat!” you huffed, and the two men looked at eachother and Hopper laughed, 

“Thats something only a brat would say!” Hopper told you, and Hotch agreed with him. 

“I would cross my arms if I could right now I hope you know that.” 

“We know sweetheart, we know.” is all Hopper said before getting back to work, Hotch joining him and returning to the file he had been going over and over for hours already. 

Only a few minutes had passed before you spoke up.

“Are you sure there’s nothing that can get me out of here without my dad?! Seriously I’ll do anything! Please! Just name what you want!” you begged, tearing the mens attention away from their work, Hopper glared at you. 

“What part of no do you not understand? Were you never told it growing up?” 

“No” You giggled, “I got everything I asked for so I wouldn’t bother my daddy” you smirked at the dumbfounded faces on the two men. 

“Oh don’t act like your surprised my family is rich, we could afford the things I wanted!” 

“No fucking wonder your so spoiled, you got everything you wanted just by being annoying.” Hopper grumbled, and you just beamed. 

“And I’m very good at being annoying” You smirked again “So you should just let me go now, i’ll talk to my father when I get home and he can pay-” 

Aaron got up and walked to where you were sitting, grabbing a handful of your hair. 

“Or maybe we should just duct tape your mouth shut, that way you can’t bother us…or better yet…” He trailed off looking at Hopper, “We could use her as some…stress relief” 

Hopper smirked at his suggestion, “I think thats an amazing idea actually” You felt heat pool in your belly immediately and the hungry gazes that the two men gave you, “She’d probably enjoy it too, wouldn’t you sweetheart?” Hopper got up to stand next to Hotch, his hand grabbing your chin. You nodded quickly, if you weren’t going to be let out tonight this was the next best outcome, at least you wouldn’t be bored anymore. 

“Words pretty girl.” Hotch spoke up, letting go of your hair. 

“Yes, fuck yes, please” You once again begged. 

“You sound so much better when your begging” Hopper told you before yanking you out of your seat, forcing you onto your stomach over his desk. 

“Lets see…which end do you want first, Hotch? Mouth or pussy?” Hopper asked standing next to your figure. 

“I’ll take her mouth first, you’ve known the little slut longer, you deserve her cunt.” 

Hopper smirked wildly before taking his place behind you, flipping your skirt up he tuts when he sees the damp patch in your panties, “God you really are a slut, your already wet, love the idea of two men old enough to be your father using you?” You nod and he slaps your ass harshly, obviously expecting a verbal response. 

“Yes!” You don’t know you manage to even form a verbal response when Hotch is infront of you undoing his belt, his hands are so big they practically cover the entirety of the buckle and it has you fucking drooling. He’s only half hard and yet you can tell that he’s big. You already knew Hopper was big the few times he had to pin you against a wall just to put handcuffs on you. 

You already knew you most likely wouldn’t be doing a whole lot of talking after this…

Hotch taps your cheek with a mumbled ‘open”, you opened your mouth welcoming his half hard cock into your mouth, while Hopper ran his fingers through your wet cunt, he eventually sinks one finger into your waiting hole causing you to moan around Aarons cock, which caused the other man to groan. He tangled his fingers in your hair, beginning to fuck your face. 

Hopper added another finger into your hole, slowing finger fucking you, your muffled moans turned into slight gagging as Hopper hit your g-spot with his fingers at the same time Hotch forced his cock to the back of your throat. 

“You can take it.” Hopper told you before removing his fingers from your cunt, wiping his fingers against the skin of your thigh. Causing you to whine at the feeling. 

“Oh be fucking quiet, your lucky we’re even using you right now.” Hotch spoke up from above you, hearing Hoppers belt hit the floor and his pant being unzipped sent another flood of arousal through you. Wiggling your hips you couldn’t wait to be filled by his cock. 

Hopper pushed his cock into you and you felt your eyes roll into the back of your head, between Hotch’s cock and his you felt so fucking full, you really wished you weren’t handcuffed so you had something to hold onto. 

You practically shrieked around Aarons cock when Hopper bottomed out, almost immediately pulled out until only the tip of his cock remained in your cunt before pushing all the way in. 

The two men smiled wickidely as they heard you splutter around Aarons cock when they timed their thrusts together. 

“Fuuck Her mouth is fucking amazing…” Hotch mumbled, watching as his cock dissappeared into your mouth over and over again, “I’m not gonna last much longer…” He groaned as he felt your tongue run over a vein that was on the underside of his dick. 

“Shit me neither, her cunt is so fucking tight she’s practically sucking me in…” Hoppers hands were digging into your hips, sure to leave bruises that would last for weeks. 

The two men shared a look before they both pulled out of you, much to your distaste, you whined, almost begging for them to return to where they were. 

“No no, please, I was getting so close.” you tolf them, but the two men just laughed. 

“Too fucking bad, your just here to be a toy for us, you probably won’t be cumming tonight.” Hopper told you, settling infront of you and grabbing your hair, just like Aaron did. While the other grabs your hips lining himself up with your hole. 

“Now get to work” Hopper spat at you, using the hand that wasn’t holding your hair to line his cock up with your mouth. Aaron sunk his cock into you before you had a chance to welcome Hoppers cock into your mouth, a gruttal moan ripped through your throat before Hopper shoved his cock into it, hitting the back of your throat immediately. You got to work sucking Hoppers cock with the same enthusiasm that you did with Aarons. 

“Fuckkkk I’m gonna cum baby, want me to come in your mouth?” You tried you best to nod, looking up at the olderman infront of you. 

“Good, cause you didn’t have a choice.” It didn’t take long before Hoppers hips started thrusting into your face, forcing you to deep throat him and then still as he came down your throat. You took his cum as best you could, reveling in the salty taste. 

“God you really are a fucking whore.” He mumbled, pulling out of your mouth, “Now be a good girl and swallow.” And you did, you might’ve choked a little bit because as you did Aaron had decided that was a perfect time to move one of his hands down to rub your clit. 

Now that your mouth was free your moans fell freely from your throat, you couldn’t hold them back if you even tried. Hotch was bullying your cunt with each snap of his hips, his fingers making work on your clit, he had you hurtiling to the edge faster that anyone had. 

“Fuck, fuck, so good.” you moaned, eyes rolling back into your head, but it wasn’t enough, you needed more. 

“Fuck, choke me please.” you pleaded with the man behind you, the though of his hand wrapping around your throat too good to pass up.

“Oh she likes being choked does she?” the two men laughed at hoppers statement, the hand that was on your hip came up to wrap around your throat, cutting off your air supply. You were so fucking close to the edge. 

“I’m gonna cum! Please, please don’t stop!” you practically screamed out, Hotch grunted behind you, you took that as a confirmation that he wouldn’t. After a few more thrusts of his hips your body was convulsing, and a cry fell from your lips as you came, not even a minute Hotch followed, he buried himself deep into your cunt as he came. 

You were both out of breath as he pulled out, sweat dotting everyones foreheads and you laid limply across Hoppers desk, effectively fucked out. You felt one of the men undo your cuffs, Hopper picked you up gently. 

“Lets go get you cleaned up.” He walked with you towards the bathroom, Hotch following close behind and you smiled, cuddling into the older mans chest. 

“But do not think this night is over…we’re both extremely pent up.”

[lolahasmoxie]

Jailbird (Part 1) - E.M

I was inspired by this post.

WARNINGS: naughty talk, allusions to sex. Eddie should be his warning because the boy has no filter or impulse control. There's also some fluffy stuff because Eddie, by nature, is boyfriend coded.

WORD: 953

PAIRING: Eddie Munson x reader

The sequel to this will be out when I get back from NYC. (July 6th)

LINK TO PART 2

"Hi, I'm here for Edward Munson."

"Hopper, the girlfriend's here." The officer at the reception desk didn't make eye contact with you as you heard the sound of Jim Hopper's heavy work boots approach.

"Hey, y/n. How are your folks doing?"

"Good Jim," you answered, trying to pretend that it wasn't 2:45am and that you weren't wearing Eddie's pajama pants and a faded hoodie. "They're still adjusting to Indianapolis, but like being closer to their grandkids and the city."

"Sorry I had to call you down," he said as he motioned for you to follow him. "Got a call from the Hideout about some nonsense that happened towards closing."

"Yeah, Wayne's out of town with his fishing buddies this weekend."

"Hence, why I called you," Jim replied as he stopped outside the cells.

"Is he in a lot of trouble?"

"Nah, I talked the other guy out of pressing charges."

"Charges!" you interjected louder than you had planned. Hopper pinched his eyes as your voice echoed down the hallway.

"Some out-of-towners were in the club, and one was harassing a waitress. Eddie told him to knock it off, but the guy didn't listen, and when he groped the waitress, Eddie interjected with his fist."

"Fuuuuuuuuck," You muttered, running your hand over your face.

"Relax, there were enough witnesses to vouch for your boy; he was never gonna be in trouble, and I let the other asshole know that upfront. Still had to bring him in to appease him though."

"Thank you, Jim," you responded as you walked to the cells. They were mostly empty, with only a couple of drunks sleeping it off for the night while they waited for morning and their wives. Jim stopped in front of a cell at the end and tapped on the bar.

"Alright, son, pickups here."

"Oh, thank God." you hear him mutter as you stand in front of his cell. He looks mostly alright, although he's gonna have a hell of a black eye in the morning. "Hey, Sweetheart," he calls to you, his voice buttery sweet, step one when he needs forgiveness.

"Hey, handsome. Heard someone had a fun night."

"An absolute riot," he says dryly. "Hop, am I free to go?"

"Just a minute, son. We need to have a conversation first."

"I know, no more settling disagreements with my fists. Solemn vow, never again," Eddie interjects, making an x over his heart as he looks at Hopper with big brown puppy eyes.

"Not that dingus," Jim says shortly. "We need to talk about what you said to me when I read you your rights."

"What did he say, what did you say, Eddie?” you ask cautiously. Eddie hangs his head low and avoids your gaze

"I said the usual, "Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law." Your man replied with, and I quote, "real hairy pussy."

You glance over at Eddie, who had quickly recovered from his shyness just a moment ago. On his face was the biggest grin you had ever seen.

"Someone's really proud of himself."

"What? It was HILARIOUS."

"EDDIE!" He jumps when both you and Hopper yell his name. He looks a little scared for the first time that night as he clears his throat.

"Sheriff Hopper," he begins, "I promise, scout's honor."

"Didn't you get kicked out of the scouts?" Eddie's head swiveled as a look of betrayal took over his face. He glared at you before turning to Hopper, who was chuckling.

"Alright, that's enough. Go home, and don't let me catch the words 'bar fight' and 'your name' in a sentence together. Understand?" Eddie nodded before following you down the hallway.

He could see you were mad. He had spent enough nights mapping out your body to see your anger as you walked before him. You walked past the receptionist and to your car, not once saying a word to the man following you. When you were both in the car, buckled and safe, you sat staring straight ahead with your hands on the wheel.

"Babe," Eddie started quietly. "Baby, I am so sorry about tonight. I know I should have been the bigger man, but they had been giving Annie shit all night, and I just..."

The sound of your laughter filled the car, and for a minute, Eddie wondered if you had finally snapped and lost your mind. You were laughing hysterically. At one point, you weren't even making a sound. Eddie could see the tears forming in your eyes as you tried to gain your composure.

"Uh, y/n,"

"I can't believe you," you started as you continued to fight the giggles. "Hopper has you in cuffs, reads your Miranda rights, and you respond with REAL HAIRY PUSSY."

Eddie finally joins in your laughter, chuckling to himself.

"Does this mean I'm forgiven?" He bats his pretty cow eyes at you, and you can't help but grin at your stupid adorable boyfriend.

"It's almost 3am, Eddie; you are absolutely not," you said as you wiped your eyes. "However, you were standing up for someone else, and for that, I think we should stop by Benny's so I can treat my boy to some cheesy fries and a milkshake. Sound good?"

"Oh my god, that sounds AMAZING. I'm freaking starving," he says as he rubs his belly.

"Good, and tomorrow you can start making this up to me."

"Can it involve that thing I do with my tongue?" You glance over at him, and he has a devious grin as he wiggles his eyebrows at you. You quickly lean over and kiss him before starting your car.

"Absolutely, slugger. In fact, start with that first."

[pitifulbaby]

uncharted waters

summary: being a prince wasn’t what Steve wanted, he wanted adventure in the sea. he wanted freedom from the strict life he was given, he wanted to be himself and not the royalty that was bestowed upon him.

pairings: Prince!Steve x Fem!Mermaid!Reader

warnings: depiction of boat crash and fire, steve has big feelings

a/n: i’m gonna be honest in the fact that i have been trying to write this ever since i saw the live action little mermaid which was in may. maybe ill write more for this or maybe i wont it just depends on my brain and if people like this? anyways, enjoy! 4.4k words

The whirling of the wind was a constant on the ocean, which was wonderful in getting a boat across the open waters to and fro its destinations. The hum of the waves and buzzing of the winds mixed beautifully, the occasional squawk of a seagull here and there depending on just how close you might be to the shore. 

To some, being on a ship was terrifying, the rocking back and forth as well as not knowing just what was in the deep blue this giant piece of wood was moving across. It was a horrifying idea, especially when you think just how deep the ocean is. Who truly knows what is lurking deep, deep down? 

But to Steve Harrington, the sea was his favorite thing. The thrill of sailing was intoxicating, there seemed to never be a dull moment with his crew. The Prince knew he probably shouldn’t enjoy being on the ship as much as he did, but could you blame him? He knows he should be thankful to be born into royalty, he was given a world many could only dream of. But at what cost?

Sure he had the world at his fingertips, but only to a point. He had rules after rules to follow, his clothing had to be pristine at all times, no slouching- the list goes on and on. The one time he felt himself was out at sea, the breeze in his hair and spray of water against his tanned, freckled skin made him feel alive. 

King Matthew Harrington and Queen Doris were off to some other kingdom for ‘business’ but Steve knew it was just a glorified vacation away from their own home. His parents enjoyed being rulers, but they didn’t enjoy the working part of it. 

So that's why they seemed to always be away doing their work, or, lack of it. 

The work was then placed on their son, Prince Steve. Steve was still in his late teens and already had the weight of the kingdom placed upon his shoulders. The Kingdom was smaller than the neighboring ones, the palace built upon the shorelines of Hawkins, overlooking the sea. 

Though the Prince was old enough to look after himself, he was still placed in the care of his majordomo and confidant whenever his parents were gone- which was most of the time. Jim, or as he is referred to as Hopper, is a hulking figure of a man, around the age of Steve’s parents. He was hard headed, but never cruel. Steve had more of a father son relationship with Sir Hopper than he does with his own. 

The day was gone, leaving dark skies with shimmering stars and a big moon in its wake. Upon the royal ship was Steve and his crew, one of his crewmates- and closest friends Robin, thought it would be a wonderful idea to celebrate the male's birthday by sailing out, light some fireworks off and just have a bit of fun. So that's what they decided to do for his 19th birthday. 

Laughter filled the top deck of the ship, cups were filled with drinks, the atmosphere was light and happy. It was something Steve needed, he didn’t feel like a prince in the moment, he simply felt like a teenage boy. 

Unbeknownst to anyone upon the ship, they were being watched. Not in a bad way, but curious eyes seemed to be glued to the rowdy crew. In the water was you, a creature of the sea, a mermaid. 

Attached to the side of the ship were lifeboats in case of emergencies, hoisted right above the water. You had managed to hoist yourself into one of the boats, the railings of the ship had arches at the bottom of them so you were able to look in, eyes wandering across the group. The only way you would be seen was if someone was looking for you.

All you have known was life under the ocean, because that's all you were shown. Your father was very strict about the surface world, but why is it always the things we can’t have, become the things we are most interested in?

You were never allowed to venture off far, never get close to any other humans, never this and never that. Like Steve you just wanted more but you were glued to these rules. You couldn’t step a toe- in your case, fin, out of line. But that didn’t stop your curiosity, it seemed that since you couldn’t have it, the urge for it was stronger.

But today seemed to be the closest you have ever gotten to another human other than your father, sure you have swam to the surface but that was only to visit father, but never were you this close to anyone else. People were odd to you in a sense, but they were absolutely fascinating. They seemed to lose things rather easily, which sucked for them but earned a hyperfixation for you and the lost objects. Hidden in your grotto was a plethora of odd findings, things that you didn’t know the names of so you gave them your own. 

Those thoughts seemed to slip away as you admired the crew, eyes wide and full of wonder. You knew you shouldn’t be here, you knew that if you were seen you would get caught and who knows what they would do. Your father told you that humans were ruthless, told you gruesome stories to try and get you from losing interest in humans. 

But they were just so fascinating, and they made such odd and amazing things! 

Your hands rested against the side of the ship, resting against it to try and see further into the boat. You just wanted to observe, see how they lived. But, you were caught, luckily though, not  by a human. A creature seemed to notice you, a rather big and fluffy one at that. If you remembered correctly it was a dog that sensed you. With a wagging tail and paws padding against the wood, the animal trotted over to you.

Luckily no one noticed, yet. You couldn’t help the quiet laugh that slipped past your lips, the dog sticking its face through the opening and sniffing your outstretched hand before licking you. Moving your hand slowly you let your fingers run through the fur. The texture of the animal was odd, the fur absorbing the water from your hands. But the dog didn’t seem to mind the drops of water, too distracted by the mermaid.

“Dart! C’mon boy, you’re gonna get stuck.” A voice soon called out, as the voice rings through, you quickly duck down and move away from the opening of the railing.

You were hidden from their view, but you could still see them. A tall gruff man shoos the dog, whom you have found out is named Dart, away from the opening. 

“Dart, you getting into trouble?” This time the words were spoken by a different voice, his voice calm as he spoke to the dog. Shifting in the boat you moved your head and caught a glimpse of who was speaking. He was a tall male, though not as tall as the one before him. Fluffy dark hair, and he adorned a flowy white shirt, tucked into a pair of trousers with a deep blue vest over the shirt, finished off with a sash around his waist. His smile was wide, sun kissed skin and soft freckles gracing his features.

He was breathtaking. The sight of him caused your interest to somehow be more peeked, keeping a close eye on the boy who seemed not much older than you. 

The crew soon was moving their attention to one of the crew members. Her hair was short- not even touching the tops of her shoulders. Her attire was similar to the pretty males, but she ditched the vest and her clothes weren’t as pristine as his. With a laugh she was moving to a large object draped with fabric, hiding whatever it was. 

She then hopped on top of a crate next to the object- a little clumsy with her actions before she was raising her cup high and smacking the side of the metal with a spoon a few times. The clanking caused laughter from the crew, Steve couldn’t help but roll his eyes with a laugh at her antics. “As we all know our lovely-” the last word was said with a fake gag, “Prince Steve is finally turning nineteen!” Her voice was a bit low with a natural rasp. 

Her hands waved when she spoke, some of the liquid in her cup splashing onto one of the other crew members, he looked to be the youngest of them all. “Seriously, Robin?” He questioned, his words having a faint lisp to them. “Sorry Dustin,” She said with a fake glare to the younger boy.

“Anyways, as I was saying,” She passes her cup and spoon off to someone else, “Since it is his birthday, we have all decided on getting you a gift!” Robin exclaims, biting back a laugh that has a deeper undertone. Steve’s brows furrow, leaning back against the railing as his eyes stay glued to the crew he calls his closest friends. 

Robin is stifling a laugh, her hands closing around the fabric hiding the large item. “Are you ready for the greatest gift of all, Prince Steve?” Robin’s words were spoken in a teasing manner, the prince simply sighs, nodding slowly. “I fear I don’t have much of a choice.” Steve spoke with a fake sadness. Robin’s smile was mischievous, tightening her grasp on the cotton. With a quick pull the fabric was ripped away, the material snapping into the wind with a ‘whoosh!’ sound. The gift was finally unveiled to be a large statue of none other than Steve Harrington, it was gray and made from stone, depicting the Prince with a proud look adorning his face, a sword in its sheath at his left hip, his left hand against said hip and his right hand reaching across his chest and torso to rest against the hilt of the sword. 

The ship goes silent as everyone stays still, gaze shifting from the statue and the actual person. The only sound is the wind and the crashing of the waves. Suddenly Steve lets out a laugh and the crew follows suit. Hopper placed his hand over his mouth, trying to stifle his laughter. 

Steve was rather nervous to receive his birthday gift, only for the fact that he feels like he has every materialistic item he could have. It wasn’t unusual for the young maidens of neighboring kingdoms to send gifts to Steve, he is a young, handsome bachelor who is a Prince, an heir to a throne. So of course women and even the occasional man will send their finest gifts with a letter in hopes of wooing the male and land themselves a seat in the royal family. 

His face is flushed in embarrassment as he stares at the large statue, his hand going over his mouth. He lets his hand fall back to his side after a moment, opening his mouth and closing it- he did so a few times as he tried to come up with what to say. “We had it commissioned, though we were hoping it could’ve been a wedding present, birthday seemed good enough.” Robin spoke through her laughter, stepping down from the crate. 

“Hey I think it's good there isn’t a girl in the picture yet, I couldn’t imagine getting that as a wedding gift.” Dustin spoke back to Robin, causing some of the crew to let out quiet ‘oohs!’ in response to his remark. Steve simply rolls his eyes at that, turning his gaze to Hopper. The older male motioned him over, leading them to the other side of the ship while everyone else continued on with the celebration.

Unknowingly they stepped closer to the boat you were currently hiding in, pressed against the ship.

As Steve looked at Hopper he felt his eyebrows furrow at the face he was making. Jim was a stoic man, truthfully no one could ever figure out what emotion he seemed to be feeling. But when you were basically raised by the man, you learn to pick up the small differences in his features. Steve let himself lean against the railing, crossed his arms over his chest as he waited for Jim to speak.

“Your parents sent a letter,-” He spoke, his words low. Steve let out a groan, throwing his head back for a moment before righting himself. “Let me guess, no ‘Happy Birthday to our wonderful and only child!’” He guessed, but it wasn’t a guess when he knew he was right. The boy couldn’t remember the last time he spent a birthday with his parents, hell, he couldn’t remember the last time they spent any sort of holiday or celebration together! 

“They want to know when you will be getting married.” Hopper’s words were point blank, quick to the point and void of emotion, Steve turns around to face the railing, pressing his elbows against the wooden frame and digging the palm of his hands into his eyes. “I know you don’t want to hear this kid, but time is ticking and you do need to find someone.” 

“There are plenty of women lining up-” Jim is then interrupted as Steve stands back up. “I don’t want to just settle for a wife, besides none of them want me for me. They want the royalty aspect of me.” Steve’s words are quiet, laced with pain. 

“Every time I have tried to get to know someone it just- it doesn't feel right because I know there is an ulterior motive. They don’t see me for me, they see this Prince, which sure yeah I am. But I wanna be seen as Steve, not Prince Steve.” The young boy ranted, pouring out his feelings to one of the only adults that would ever listen to him. 

Jim wasn’t the best at comforting, especially to Steve. The two were gifted different lifestyles but they met in the middle, two different upbringings. One was born into royalty and the other who somehow managed to become a part of a royal family. 

He placed his hand on the boys shoulder, giving the younger male a small shake. “We just want you to be happy, maybe try looking harder or in other places.” 

Steve simply sighs, his shoulders drooping. “When I find her, I will know. It will hit me like lightning.” His words were more for himself, trying to find comfort in his own words. “But I’m not worried about that right now, I’m still young, Hopper. I can worry about marriage later on in life. Right now I want to spend as much time out on the ocean as I can.” He said with a small smile, looking out at the water. In the distance was a bolt of lightning, the waves started to get a bit rough. 

“Storms moving in fast,” Steve spoke, watching for a moment before he was soon turning to the crew. 

Just moments ago everything was calm, but the waves were harsher now. There were no obvious signs that there was a storm coming, the sky was already dark from the nighttime. Everything seemed to happen fast, rain pouring down from the sky and causing the deck of the ship to be a slip and slide as everyone ran around in preparation for the storm. 

Everyone was bustling around, moving around in a speedy fashion as the storm got worse by the second. Securing things down with rope, reefing the sails and climbing the netting of the masts. In simple words it was chaos as everyone tried to batten down the hatches. The waves became choppy by the second, rocking the boat hard. 

Hopper had ventured to the stern of the ship to the helm, steering the ship as best he could in the weather, his eyes slanted as he tried to shield his vision from the pouring rain and the wind. But he is cut short as a huge wave crashes over the ship, slamming into the male and pushing him to the ground. Steve notices from the other side of the ship, he sees the wheel abandoned and soon he is rushing to the spinning wheel. He takes the steps two at a time, nearly sliding to the ground before he grasps the helm, planting his feet to the ground. The wheel shows much restraint, causing Steve to struggle for a moment. His eyes are trained ahead at the wild open sea, the waves rocking the ship and parting to show a boulder of rocks protruding from the water. It was planted right where the vessel was set to sail. Quickly Steve steers the wheel in the other direction, pushing with all his strength as he gets it to spin the opposite way. 

For whatever reason through this all, you stayed in the lifeboat, you knew through it all it was probably a stupid idea to stay seated. But you were entranced by Steve, it was like he was the siren and you were the pirate, weakened by his enticing voice. You watched it all, watched the chaos and panic ensue as you stayed in the boat watching like a hawk. Your head whipped to the side as you noticed the rock formation, quickly diving out as the side of the life vessel you were in was the side that was destined to hit the boulder.

The ship hit the stone formation head on, the large boat hitting hard causing the front to break and splinter off, throwing objects and men off the vessel. The hanging lamps that were strung from pillar to pillar atop the ship soon came crashing down, the fire inside soon spread across the wooden ship, up the mast and to the sails.

Steve Harrington scrambled up, his eyes wide as he panted, looking out at his ship and seeing it start to engulf into flames. He once again was running down the stairs, “Lifeboats! Abandon ship!” He screamed out, motioning over the railings and into the water. “Abandon ship?” Dustin screamed back, his words laced with panic. Steve simply nodded, “Go!” He called back, watching as the crew jumped overboard into the water, the lifeboats already having been lowered down by one of the crew.

The sails, pillars and masts were crashing down, the fire was an intense blaze, the rain still pelting down heavily. Steve watched as everyone jumped out, his eyes roaming the broken ship and not seeing anyone aboard. But before he could join anyone in the lifeboats, he heard barking. “Dart,” His body whipped around, eyes scanning over the fiery ship before landing on the old english sheepdog. Dart was stuck on the stern by the steering wheel, barking as he hoped to alert someone that he was still there and stuck. 

The Prince searched for a way up there, eyes frantic as he ran- jumping over ablaze wooden planks, moving rope out of his way before finally he was able to reach the dog. “It's okay, I got you,” Steve spoke to Dart, his arms curling under the belly of the dog and hoisting him up. He ran to the side of the ship, “I’m sorry bud,” He said before he had to toss him into the open water. 

In one of the boats nearby was the youngest crew member, Dustin Henderson. Reaching his hand out into the water, “C’mon boy! It's okay!” He called out to the animal, watching as he paddled as fast as he could. But the dog was struggling, the waves were still choppy and rain still strong, a second later though he got faster. Under the water helping him was you, your hands pushing him up ever so to keep his head out of the water, you swam under him and helped the dog over to the boy. Once the animal was being pulled out of the sea you swam under the boat, having decided you were going to leave. But a gut feeling was telling you to stay, the top of your head and eyes peeking up over the water.

“Steve!” Jim screamed out from one of the life vessels, and all eyes were on the boy. Right as he was about to jump overboard, the ship was crashed by a wave. Causing Steve to lose balance and land on his back before being dragged by gravity down the ship before breaking through the wooden railings and into the open water. 

With wide eyes you watched him plummet down, quickly diving underwater and to the wreck, surfacing as you tried to find the boy before finally seeing his lifeless body sinking fast. Once again you were back underwater. 

It was much calmer under the sea, eyes trained on the prince as you swam after him. The world was much darker, everything more muffled. You know you should prefer under the water, but there was something about the outside world that was so much more interesting to you. Maybe you just lacked any social aspect other than your family and you can only talk to the sea life for so long. 

Much like Steve, you felt as if you were destined for more than you were given, but you were tied down by everyone around you telling you what you should or shouldn’t do.

Once he was in reach you let one of your arms curl around his waist, pulling his back against your side as you started your swim back up to the surface. You swore you haven’t swam that fast in a while, fin slicing through the water in hopes of reaching the boy you weren’t even sure was alive in the first place. But finally you got him above the water, shifting his body close to you. He took a deep, shuddery breath the moment he could, but he was still out like a light. The adrenaline wore off and hitting the water so hard knocked him unconscious. 

Holding him tight you let the waves move you both away from the wreckage, your eyes trailing to look at the damage of the ship. Pieces of wood and other objects littered the sea around you, the only light source was from the flames of the ablaze vessel that was once so lively. The moon wasn’t insight, hidden away by the dark clouds they continued to pelt down rain. Even after it helped wreak so much havoc it still showed no mercy in its doings. 

The wreck happened rather far into the ocean, and by the time you managed to swim him to shore, the sun had risen and the storm was gone without a trace. The sky was clear as can be and the sun shining bright.

Getting him onto the sand was a bit of a struggle, gently laying him down onto the warm sand as the waves splashed behind you. A bit of fear encased you as you didn’t see him move, at some point the buttons on his shirt seemed to have become undone. Pressing your hand against his naked chest as you leaned your ear right above his heart. You could hear the faint beat, but he wasn’t doing anything else. Leaning back up you noticed a piece of seaweed stuck to his shirt, grabbing it and flinging it somewhere over your shoulder.

You could feel panic bubbling up, taking hold of his shoulders and shaking him gently- hoping to wake the man. 

Finally he moved, well, he coughed up some water in his lungs, which was more comforting for you than it probably should be. The waves crashed against his feet and the fin of your tail, his body relaxing after his lungs were finally cleared and he could breathe normally. He was still unconscious, you let one of your hands keep you propped up while the other rested against his chest.

Quietly you hum a tune, moving your hand to rest against his cheek. Your humming turned into singing, nonsense words that were almost a plea of wishing you could be human like him and see the world. You softly turned his head towards you, noticing the cut above his eyebrow that had stopped bleeding. Your hand trails back to rest against his chest, your eyes taking in each and every small detail adorning his freckled face. You knew he was beautiful far away, but up close he was just breathtaking. Words couldn’t describe his beauty, his features were sharp but they were formed to give his face such a soft look. 

As you softly sang, his hand started to move as he slowly gained consciousness. His hand moving to gently rest against yours, his eyes moving under his lids. Once again you knew you should’ve left as soon as possible, but there was this pull to him that held on tight. Slowly his eyes parted, dark brown irises meeting you. His vision was blurred, the sun was right beside your head so you were a silhouette that was slowly becoming more clear. A gentle smile pulled at your lips as your singing came to a stop. But soon the sounds of shouting could be heard from above, your head snapping to the side as you see a bundle of people bustling down the rocky mountains.

You knew they were here for the man who had let his eyes fall shut once again, and once more you were back in the water at a safe distance. The top of your head was above water, eyes peeking out as you watched the scene unfold in front of you. 

“Over here!” One of the men said as they ran to the Prince, leaning down and pressing their hand against his chest. “He’s alive!” He called back, another man coming to the other side of Steve, helping hoist him up before they were off. 

With eyes full of wonder you watched it all happen, hoisting yourself up onto some rocks to see better, waves slammed against the rock formation you were leaned against, water flying and splashing around you as you felt a smile pull at your face. You never made promises with yourself, if things were meant to happen they would, but you had this feeling that in this moment, something was starting now and you would fight for it.

[dorkofclanlavellan]

Santa’s Visit

Paring(s): Jim Hopper x Reader 

Warning(s): Hopper and Reader have a toddler son, Suggestive at the end (may write a smutty sequel later), If there's anything else I need to add warnings for I can't think of it right now sorry

Note:  Reader and Hop have a kid together, I don't reference reader's gender in this. So you can decide if the kiddo is adopted or whatever. Also I did go ahead and name their son after Benny.

Hopper had only put the Santa costume on at your insistence. Your plan had been for 'Santa’ to make too a lot of noise while setting the presents under the tree so your 3 year old son, Benny, would hear and come running to catch a glimpse of Father Christmas himself. You figured he wouldn’t recognize his actual father under the disguise. 

Jane had been in on the plan, mostly because she had caught Hop trying on the suit the day before, and had ended up having to wake Benny when the commotion their father had made hadn’t woken the toddler from his slumber. 

Afterwards, with Benny sound asleep  and curled up in his lap and Jane snoring softly with her head rested on your lap, Hopper admitted to himself that the delighted look on his son’s face and the way Benny had clung to him had been well worth dressing up in the “stifling hot ass” costume and playing the part of Saint Nick. 

Of course, he’d never admit this to you. He’d never hear the end of it. And then you’d make him dress up as the fucking Easter Bunny or some shit. 

After helping you get the kids to bed and tucked in, Hopper practically threw himself into his recliner and shut his eyes for a moment. He was surprised when opened them back up to see you holding out a frosted glass of beer for him. 

He chuckled in glee as he took it from you. “Damn, I love you.” He grumbled before taking a long drink from the glass. 

“I know.” You hummed out, perching on the arm of the recliner. This made him roll his eyes playfully before taking another sip. He nearly choked on it though when you lent down and whispered in his ear, “Santa...I’ve been really good this year. Would you like to come unwrap me and give me my gift?” The whole time you were trailing your fingers down his chest and to his oversized belt. 

Hop blinked at you for a few seconds before chugging down the rest of his beer, standing up and slinging you over his shoulder. With a light slap on your rear, he rumbled out a, “I’ve got something for you alright.” before toting you off to your bedroom.

[persage]

I Promise I'll be worthy- S.HARRINGTON

Steve Harrington x Hopper!Reader

Part 2 of Can I stay with you tonight? ( don't worry it is perfectly understandable without having read the first part)

Summary: After being kicked out of his home, you and your father offer to help Steve, but it's not always easy to save someone, especially when they don't think they're worth it. Things don't go as planned.

Words Count: 6.6 k

Tags: Hopper!Reader Angst with fluff, Jim Hopper being the best dad, Jim Hopper being a father figure for Steve Shitty Harrington's parenting and very traumatized Steve Harrington.

Thanks again to @loving-and-dreaming

It's ironic how in a reality of monsters and dangers, in the ranking of the things that Jim Hopper despises most in the world there are two relatively anonymous and  useless people like Mr and Mrs Harrington, and not even in such a low position to be honest. As he watches Mr Harrington throw a  bag out the front door in anger, soon followed by none other than his son Steve, Hopper feels a visceral urge to get out of the car and grab the man by the shirt exactly like he is now doing with the boy. He holds him by the jacket, brutally pushing him out of the house. "I'm tired of your headbutts Steven! Come back when you will become a man" Mr. Harrington shouts. Hopper never liked the man. The kid's dark eyes rest on the police chief's car parked nearby and as he is literally thrown out of his own house, Steve shakes his head motioning Jim not to intervene. This however attracts his father's attention, he notices Hopper's car and the two people inside it. You and your dad helplessly watch the scene.

Steve picks up the bag from the ground and walks away with small steps turning back from time to time, looking for the gaze of his own mother who has taken refuge in her house, sobbing and crying as if she really cares about that only son hers. Yet she doesn't intervene. She never did anyway. Steve doesn't blame her, you do. You can't help it.

Steve looks his father in the eye and for the first time in many years finds the courage to answer without apology. "I look like you more than you think dad .... You know, miserable" There is no expression on his face, motionless, impassive even when his father raises his arm with the clear intention of hitting him. With your eyes wide open and your heart pounding in your chest you get out of the car, immediately followed by your father who tries to stop you, to overtake you, to prevent you from being the first to get in the way. But before you or Jim can reach them, Steve has already caught his father's arm in mid-air and is staring at him without daring to say anything. Now that you can observe the way they look at each other, something in you breaks down, because the guy in front of you doesn't even seem the same as always. The sunny, cheerful person, able to calm you down in every situation, has left the place for someone different, as if a part of him - who knows how big and how important - has broken forever after being hit for so long. Slowly Steve lets go of his father's arm, turns around and without daring to look at you or Hopper starts walking towards the car. "Let's go" he whispers. You clench your fists, trying to appease the need to break Mr. Harrington's face and you stand still and observe him for longer than necessary, the old man reciprocates, scrutinizing you from top to bottom like you are scum.

The second in which you get distracted to look around you, it's enough to miss the exact moment in which Mr. Harrington grabs his son by the arm forcefully, with a sort of controlled but scary violence "You wretch!" He screams, squeezing him tighter and tugging at him. "You got the police in, you stupid boy" he shouts on and on, his face red with rage, an expression of pure fury you've never seen before on such a serious and composed face. Steve has his back to you and you're glad you can't see the way his face becomes a mask of sadness, the way his eyes fill with a pain no one has taught him to voice and that once again will make him feel so damn wrong. "What will people say about us huh? Isn't everything you've done to us  enough Steven? Sometimes I doubt you're even my son, so stupid, so....miserable."

If you were in another time and context, Steve would laugh to notice you and your father lined up in the exact same position, with the exact same expression on your faces addressed to nothing less than his own dad. His fucking father. Steve actually manages to smile a little, because with the possibilities that nature has given him - after all, he shares that cursed man's genes - he could have been a much worse person. Also he's lucky enough to have you two to worry about him, and Dustin and Rob. That's enough for now. But the thought brings with it a new fear: Steve Harrington, in times he doesn't like to remember, not even too far away, was like his dad and he was proud of it, he did everything to be exactly what his father wanted (without ever succeeding to be honest, grades and intelligence, are things he could not pretend), but what if he is really like that? What if this is his true self? What if  all his failed attempts to improve, all the effort he is making to demonstrate in every way that he is a better person, in the end it's only an act great enough to even convince himself? What if, after all, he is just a reflection of the man who he most hates - and loves, at the same time, however absurd it may seem - in the world?

The thought paralyzes him, terrifies him but he is more terrified by the chill between all of you, the immobility of these infinite moments and it scares the shit out of him to see you so close to his father. He knows that Hopper is there and if Hopper is there nothing bad will ever happen to you, but there is no rationality in Steve's mind right now, so he comes back and grabs your hand with sweetness and decision at the same time.

"Let's go" He murmus, his voice is calm and gentle enough to turn you towards him. His cold hands manage to loosen your grip still in a fist, you intertwine your fingers with his, letting them slide slowly, in a light, delicate but firm grip that seems to mean "I'm here, I'm always here ". This is enough to calm down the crazy beating of your heart, it's enough to bring back a shred of light in his eyes, it's almost imperceptible, but it's enough to give you hope that all the wickedness in the world won't be enough to take away the Steve you know.

For the first time since you were born, and even worse since losing Sarah, Jim Hopper doesn't hate seeing you with someone else, a boy. He feels no jealousy, nothing but blind anger and a deep sense of injustice for the poor kid: Jim Hopper hasn't always been a perfect father. To be fair he has been a shitty father for a long time, letting himself go, making many mistakes, and yet he always loved you and  this is a certainty that no one will ever be able to take away from you: you've been loved. Apparently Steve Harrington hasn't been so lucky. The idea that this young man who now walks with his head down with you, dragging you along as if he's the one to hold you up- while it's obvious from the way his feet shuffle that he's the one about to collapse- the idea that this boy who has seen death with his own eyes more times than anyone his age should, has never received the comfort of a hug, a pat on the back, a word of reassurance, pisses him off in a terrible way and causes him a deep sadness. With one last look Hopper starts to leave, then turns one last time. "You know Mr. Harrington, you're right about one thing. That boy over there can't be your son, he's far too smart to be"

"Steve" You whisper as you open the car door for him. Steve shakes his head, tries to smile but what comes out is just a distorted expression that doesn't look like a smile at all. "Steve" You repeat, grabbing his face in your hands and caressing it gently. The hint of a beard to be redone, the scars under his skin tell the story of his existence and you feel like it's your story too, cause he is part of you. The most important now. "Please" He replies in a hushed voice. Please, I need time. Please leave me be. Please, I don't deserve you. And Steve doesn't say it, you wouldn't understand, but terror blocks him and he sees himself old, with a few extra pounds, identical to his father, it seems to him an inevitable destiny, and for an instant he wishes he had died in that cursed Russian laboratory.

To convince Steve to stay with you, Hopper had to get his service pistol and threaten him. It was also quite amusing to see him surrender with his hands up and his face white with fear.

"You know boy, I thought I should have pulled a gun on you to keep you away from my daughter, not force you to stay." Jim says, chuckling under his mustache. "Dad!" You exclaim trying to hide your embarrassment, but your face, unlike Steve's, has turned such a deep red that it's impossible not to notice. Now, Jim Hopper has never been a fool, let alone a blind man: he knows perfectly well that you have a crush on this  Harrington boy, it's so obvious that if Steve hasn't noticed it, it must be because of all the beatings on the head he's taken over the years. And let's be clear, he normally wouldn't let him get close to you, not even under torture, let alone live under the same roof, yet there is something about the way he treats you that erases his jealousy. Sure, when he finds you snuggled up to him on the sofa watching tv he wants to kick him out of the house and he certainly isn't happy to see the way you curl up against his body in search of a hug, but there's something very respectful and pure in the way he hugs you. Jim then, looking closer, notices he's doing the same with El, like a brother would. He's protective, caring with both of you but Jim notices the way Steve keeps a wall between you two. It's a thin wall, barely visible in his hesitations, which Jim appreciates and acknowledges. It's the wall broken people put up to protect the ones they love, to save them from their problems at least until they're solved. You don't notice all this, too divided between the elation of having Steve Harrington - your beloved Stevie - in your house and the sadness for the circumstances that brought him to you. Oh and also the fact of having left your room to him and having to share one with Eleven, a teenager in full hormonal and sentimental crisis who spends all her time fantasizing about her little boyfriend. It's a punishment, a hell on earth that you endure only because you obviously love your sister very much and also you love the boy who sleeps on the other side of the wall. 

"Where are you going little lady?" 

You've tried sneaking into his room—yours—sometimes to be honest, legs shaking, wracked with fear of his reaction. You have done it without any specific reason, simply driven by a desire to check that he is doing well, that he is able to sleep peaceful dreams, that he is not troubled by nightmares. Since the day he has definitively left his house, Steve has closed himself in an overbearing silence on the subject, pretending a serenity that he doesn't possess and avoiding you as much as possible. If he's not at work, he's hanging out with Dustin or Robin and if he's not with them you find him chatting with your dad like he would with a close friend, like he should do with you. When he's with you, then, he does everything to get Eleven to be there and it freaks you out. It's not that you expect something from him, but he's your friend,  the same person who ran to your house under the flood because he needed you and now that you live together he almost seems like a stranger and it hurts you. That's why you have tried to sneak into his room so many times. Some of them you were stopped by your father, awake in his armchair watching the umpteenth episode of Magnum PI, or rather keeping watch over you two even if he'll never admit it.

"I'm thirsty" 

"You have a bottle of water in your room on your nightstand, go back to bed y/n"

Other times you have bypassed your guard dog, just to go back in your room without the courage to enter. Then it happens. Your legs are shaking so hard it's diffult to even walk. Steve has been particularly distant all day and you have heard him crying, locked in the bathroom, still he haven't said anything to you, pushing you away, closed in a silence that continues to hurt you deeply. You finally enter his room and find him awake, sitting cross-legged on the bed with the head in his hands. You approach on tiptoe and he only notices you when you sit on the bed, mattress folds under your weight. He jumps back a little, startled by your unexpected presence. "You gave me a stroke" he whispers, In the moonlight coming through the window you notice that he has no signs of tears on his face and it relieves you. You don't think you can bear to see him in that state again without being able to do anything. Without him letting you help him. "What are you doing here?" He asks. You just smile and with all the spontaneity of the world, while  properly hiding your fears and your concern and the very stupid idea that maybe Steve seems so far away from you because he has understood that you have feelings for him and he doesn't reciprocate them or, even worse, 'cause he has started dating Robin in the end. To be honest, you are not even interested in the romantic sentimental part of your relationship, that could easily be exclusively your problem, what matters to you is him just being here, being your friend Steve, a person you care about, who has experienced more trauma in the last few months than a normal person in a lifetime and who won't let you help. You hust want him to talk to you, he has been living with you for the past three weeks and he doesn't seem happy about it.

That makes you angry and sad, you really want him to start seeing himself as part of the family  somehow, in any way he wants. In short, you would like him to realize the way your father looks at him, with admiration, affection, esteem. The, way you look at him like he is the fuckin sun, shining above you, keeping you alive.

He doesn't seem happy about anything anymore to be honest. Every now and then you see him looking at you, your father and El with a nostalgic smile on his face and you know exactly what he's thinking, because you know him enough to understand it. He is happy to have you, to be with you, but at the same time he feels like he doesnt' belong here: this is not his family, it's yours, and he is a guest. He has never had what you have, he never will. 

"I missed you" You reply.

"And El doesn't want to turn off the light and sleep. She's scribbling something for Mike in her diary."

"Such a sweet little girl," Steve comments. "Wheeler is a lucky boy" "She's gooey and drives me crazy" You reply "But she's my babysister and she's really really sweet and she cares about Mike a lot, sometimes I'm almost afraid it's too much for such young kids." He shakes his head. "I suppose growing up in a lobratory, then defeating Demogorgons and the damn Mindflayer gives you a slightly different perception of things." 

Steve looks into your eyes, wonders what you were like at El's age. He can't remember and he hates it. At the time he still didn't have the courage to talk to you, Tommy H. would make fun of him, 'cause your father was a alcoholic and you used to come to school with weird combinations of colors and old clothes. No one was really taking care of you during these long years and he was so... silly. Steve wonders if you wrote your crush's names on your diary too. He wonders if you have ever written his stupid name.

"You know, sometimes I forget that we are so young too, I feel already old." You continue. He lets out a little puff, his gaze is lost in nothingness. "I feel at the end of the line, y/n" he affirms.

"Is that why you weren't sleeping?" You ask. He nods, without adding anything else. You lie down next to him, slowly, almost expecting him to pull you away at any moment, but he doesn't and you find yourself with your head against his chest and his hand in your hair, caressing you as gently as it hasn't been in a long time. "That's why you were crying today" You continue, your voice trembling, afraid of ruining everything and finding him distant from you again. But he doesn't chase you away, he doesn't move, you feel him hold his breath before answering. "I've been living here for three weeks, but the money I earn at Family Video isn't enough to pay you a decent rent, to support myself, not to weigh on you. But not even to leave. And I don't know what to do with my life, I have no prospects y/n and I....I'm scared." He confesses. You hold him tighter. "No one expects you to pay us Steve, your contribution is enough, and above all it is enough for us that you are well, even dad thinks so. We will help you and when you will be back on your feet, when you will understand what to do and how, we we will support you. I swear.  Until that moment we will take care of you. Please Steve, let us take care of you"

"I'd be lost without you."

Steve sighs. "That's what scares me, I don't want you to do that..." You cut him off, standing up to face him, a suddenly serious and furious expression on your face. "Don't  you dare. Don't you dare say you don't deserve It" He looks at you in shock, as if wondering how you know what he thinks.  "Steve, if anyone deserves it, it's you. Allow yourself to be helped and loved, for once." Steve can't find the courage to reply this time, he nods, and you lie down next to him again trying not to think about the unfortunate choice of terms you've made. Love. You hope he hasn't noticed it and that he doesn't get strange ideas because now, surrounded in his warm embrace as you feel your heavy eyelids closing and his lips placing sweet kisses in your hair, you couldn't stand a rejection. Not now that you're deluding yourself and imagining and letting go to a distant fantasy in which  Steve Harrington loves you and this is just yet another night you spend together in your country house, after making love for hours. It's such a beautiful idea that you fall asleep smiling, not worrying that your father will find you together. You even imagine Steve's voice muttering something in your ear.

For the first time in three weeks Steve Harrington falls asleep without his  nightmares and for a moment forgets the fear of being like his dad. To be honest, while he hugs you and whispers sweet words in your ear, he feels profoundly different from him, he has never done certain things with his mother. And then another thought takes over to keep him awake: Steve is thinking of you like his own wife and while he watches you sleeping peacefully next to him with an expression of pure serenity on his face, he realizes something he may have known all along. Steve Harrington is hopelessly in love with you. And he's not his father, he never will be as long as he has a good reason to be better. The reason is you, y/n Hopper.

Your father doesn't notice your nocturnal escapes to Steve's room, he never does. This makes you suspicious to be honest because Hopper has always been quite careful about this kind of things but you don't think too much about it, you have other priorities right now. The nights with Steve are beautiful, you spend them hugging each other on his bed, trying not to make noise and not to wake anyone up, playing, joking, listening to music, anything but sleeping. Talking, mostly, but never about all the terrible things you've experienced like Billy or the Russians, but about simple, normal life. About El and Mike and their  relationship, about Nancy, Jonathan, Dustin and sometimes even Robin. Apparently there is nothing between her and Steve or at least he says so. You don't think that's all, there's probably something he's not telling you and you feel curiosity dug in because there isn't a single good reason for those two not to be together: she's beautiful, smart and brave and they have a crazy chemistry, they've shared a trauma, they are always together. Honestly, It makes no sense. Furthermore she is perhaps the only girl in Steve's life who can easily compete with Nancy Wheeler, both so perfect even if different. You sigh, curled up on Steve's chest. Certain thoughts hurt you, they scratch your stomach and chest and lungs and you are gripped by a jealousy that makes you feel bad, an envy that makes you despise everything you are and possess because if Nancy Wheeler is his standard, then you will never have Steve, not the way you want.. Yours isn't anger, you don't wish them - Nance and Rob- anything but good, you're just... Sad.

Maybe Steve Harrington has a sixth sense for your needs because he seems to notice it right away, your change in mood, the way your little hands have begun to grip him tightly without you realizing it, to tremble imperceptibly. He worries about you immediately, ha wants to hold your face between his hands and force you to talk to him like you have done so many times because he knows you enough to understand that something is bothering you, but you're not him, you wouldn't talk, you would keep it all to yourself because that's what you do. You believe your problems are stupid and your thoughts irrelevant and your traumas aren't that bad. Steve realizes you and him have more in common than he thought. Probably that's why, while lying in each other's arms, you fit so well, like your bodies are made to be together, close.

"hey hey" He repeats while you're clinging to him like a little girl, in desperation, you stretch out your arms to hug his neck, you curl up on yourself, you hide your head in the crook of his neck, you breathe his perfume and soak the edge of his pajamas with tears without being able to stop. "Sorry". You Repeat obsessively, like a prayer.

"Everything okay?" You can feel his warm breath in your ear. Shivering, you stay silent, your hands loosen their grip on him, but the shaking, that doesn't stop. It can't be stopped. It's not just about Steve, it's that the weight of always being the last choice, the discard, the second place falls on your shoulders all at once. No matter how hard you try, you're nobody's favorite: not the kids, not Steve's, nobody's. At Starcourt you had to save your own ass, you weren't saved, no one came for you until you were already free from Billy's clutches. Even with your father, deep down you never feel his first place, his priority: you have to compete with a dead sister who will always be the ghost of your lives. Thinking these things makes you feel rotten, bad, corrupt inside. You feel so damn guilty. You burst into tears without warning like a raging river, your shoulders shake with violentl sobs and it looks  like to Steve that your bones are about to break. He is taken aback, he doesn't immediately hug you, his hands, are still on your trembling body. He wonders why you're crying, then he remembers that after everything that's happened he's never seen you do it and he wonders what you're not crying about.

"You couldn't be bad even if you wanted to y/n" He replies, with a serious and sincere tone. He wishes you could see yourself through his eyes, he wishes you realized how absurd what you're saying is: you have forgiven all of his stupid mistakes and if you're bad he then, what is he? With all the petty things he's done, he should be a monster. But for you he never was. Steve knows it and he wishes he could give you the same comfort.

He squeezes you tightly, as if he wants to engulf you in himself, to keep you away from anything that hurts you. "Sorry about what honey?" Steve asks kissing your temple with a softness that makes you feel even worse. "I'm bad Steve...I think bad things"

He catches is breath against your mouth, you no longer know where he ends and you begin and there is something violent, ferocious, urgent in the way your mouths and your teeth collide, in the salty taste of this kiss, in the tears that keep flowing as your brain screams, screams that it won't last much longer and when you break away you will have to face reality.

"You are not in my head Steve you don't know... You don't know the terrible thoughts I have" Steve now stands in front of you, grabs your face with both hands, runs his thumb over the smooth skin of your cheeks, wipes away the silent tears, then runs his finger along your chin, jaw, lips. "You will never be evil in my eyes. I don't care what you think, I don't care what you do. You are and always will be the most amazing woman on earth and if there is something beyond the earth, then you will be the most incredible creature there too" He whispers to you. His words collapse on you like a boulder and honestly Steve is surprised at what he's saying because he didn't even know he could use such true and complicated words, that he could formulate such a deep thought. You feel like dying under his lucid, excited gaze, which seems to read you inside and not be afraid of what he might find. He lets his eyes travel from your face to your lips, where he continues to caress your bottom lip with his thumb. With a sigh, he approaches you and you remain petrified in front of what is happening because you have  dreamed about it so many times that now it scares you, it terrifies you indeed. Steve places his lips on yours in a chaste kiss that you don't have time to respond to and just moves away, as if to ask permission before continuing, and without your brain being able to take control you find yourself with your lips glued together again to his in a hungry kiss, he lets your tongue meet his own, bites your lip, your hands run through his soft hair and squeeze them as if they are the only foothold for life. Maybe that's not such a big lie after all.

You're taking advantage of him and his weakness.

Days later things are worse than you've expected, the disappointment in Steve's eyes at your rejection is something you don't think you can erase, because your only certainty has always been one: you wouldn't  hurt him. Ever. Yet here you are, both of you closed in a silence that no one can explain except you and him. Since you've talked, you've put up a wall to protect him, or maybe that's what you like to think when in reality you're only thinking about yourself, because you're afraid you're not strong enough to make a point with Steve, not without putting a distance, pretending that your kiss was a mistake.

Steve Harrington is kissing you because he's grateful, because you're helping him, because he's lonely and he tends to confuse feelings, he always has after all and you know him enough to be sure that no matter how much it hurts you'll have to make the right choice for both of you: walk away and give him time to understand. But now, you let him kiss you again, wondering how you're going to live without his lips on yours now that you've discovered the sweet taste and heady sensation of them.

"It's not a mistake, how could it be?" he asks when you put your hand on his chest to push him away from you, muttering a series of no's and "that's wrong"

"Because it's not what you want Steve, it's not what you want and I know it and I can't, I can't take advantage of it."

"You don't decide what the heck I want y/n, I want you!" Steve raises his voice just before you silence him with your hand by pointing to the door your father slept through. He shakes his head, regaining his composure to whisper again, trying to caress you.

"I... I want it, I swear I want what happened" You walk away shaking your head and god knows how you don't cry.

"Not now Steve, I want to make sure you don't do it out of gratitude." He is annoyed, you see.

"Fix everything and we'll talk about it, I swear"

Steve looks at you, let his eyes run over you as if he were seeing you for the first time. "I'll wait for you, if you still want me I'll be there" you continue. He caresses you again, this time you don't move, you can't, you don't want to. Like a cat, you let yourself go against his hand. "I know what I want, it's not solving my problems that will change anything. But I swear that in this time I will become the best version of myself so that you have no doubts. I swear." He confesses, placing the ghost of a kiss on your lips, so light you might have imagined  it.

You don't claim that you don't want to it, that every version of him is the best version for you and he doesn't confess that he doubts the best version of himself will still be enough for someone special like you.

"Just promise me until we clear things up between us, it won't be weird," he say. You hug him, but you don't answer. You don't want to lie to him.You can't.

Everything falls apart and when it does, it happens bad and you can't be there for Steve.

The call catches him off guard, like a bolt from the blue as soon as Steve's life seemed to start moving in a better direction. Hopper had offered him a job with him at the station, to support  Flo and was starting to think about trying to make things right with you. And then there it is, the cold voice of a lawyer who is calling him on behalf of his client, Mr. Harrington, to tell Steve that he had been disinherited by his parents. Damn he don't even care about the family business or their money or the house because to tell the truth he never felt any of it was his own, which more than anything makes him want to die, to rip his heart from the chest. is the fact that his father doesn't have the courage to call him, or perhaps the desire. Not even a word from his mother. The lawyer asks him what his new address is, so that he can deliver his last personal belongings, and Steve gives it to him in a cold and apathetic tone under your and Hopper's perplexed gaze. His face an impenetrable and emotionless mask, his skin pale and sweaty, his eyes dull and empty. This is the image you have of Steve Harrington before he runs away from your house, without saying a word, deaf to your words, to your screams. "What's up Steve?" You ask, following him, grabbing his shoulder only to be swept away without a single look, a word, an explanation.Your father puts a hand on your shoulder.

"Let him go" he tells you. "He will be back soon"

But the day after his bed is still empty, his car - the only thing he has left - is not there. It does not take much for Hopper to find out what has happened to upset him so much and when your dad confesses it to you, before going out to look for the boy, you imagine what Steve might have thought: his parents didn't even wanted of saying it to his face, of speaking with him, to treat him as a person and not a practice to be resolved quickly. He will think that's because he is not enough, he has no value or quality that distinguishes him from the garbage that is thrown away in the morning. You know he thinks it, you know he will always think it no matter how much you try to tell him otherwise and you know, above all, that now he will feel guilty for having reacted like this, for having felt emotions, for being human and he will call himself idiot because with everything he's seen and experienced he collapses from a stupid phone call, his heart give out and his strength suddenly failes as a whirlwind has sucked it all away.

Silly, pathetic rich boy.

What you don't imagine he has been thinking obsessively in these hours is your face. As soon as he closes his eyes you're here and you tell him he doesn't know what he wants and Steve isn't able to convince you that he wants you and now, now realizes it's pretty obvious why you don't believe him: after all he was a liar, he was a fool, someone not to trust and maybe in your heart you still see him in this way, an unreliable douchebag. The same douchebg that doesn't deserve you and never will. You're too good and kind and special to admit it or more simply you just haven't realize it, it's your subconscious that knows-really knows- how terribile Steve Harrington is. Steve believs you are trying hard to look for the good in him, but deep down you see what's underneath, a poor asshole with no prospects who has now lost everything. 

He lets a hand slide over his face, the bat gripped in the other hand and with a cry he starts hitting his beloved car. He doesn't want anything from his father, nothing, not even a memory, not even that mass of iron that he loves so much. And he screams, he screams so loud that he gets people's attention and he dosen't care at all.

 When Hopper receives a call in the middle of the night about an unidentified subject, a boy, who is breaking up a car near the Harrington's house, Hopper interrupts his search after so many hours and reaches Steve as any good father should do, ready to bring him back to their home.

"That's not my last name anymore" Steve replies chuckling, completely gone, he drops dead weight against the man's body. "You're comfortable" he comments, to hide the apathy he feels with a laugh so fake that Jim's heart skips a beat. He looks at him so battered and thinks he's really sick. If he had I found him like this a few years ago, he would have thought it was the whim of yet another spoiled child, but now Jim knows and respects his pain and if he weren't a big tough and mean big man he would feel it too in part. Or so he likes to believe, he doesn't want to admit that he's attached to him to the point of feeling his pain. 

He finds him sitting in the middle of the road, so stupidly drunk that if he woulnd't even notice a car running over him. He doesn't notice Hopper's car stopping near him , or maybe he's pretending. The kid is great at acting.  He doesn't even say anything when the man lifts him off the ground and drags him into his car. "What are you doing Harrington?" Hopper mutters

Steve gets into the car next to him and is silent again. "Are you all right boy?" He asks. Steve shakes his head. He laughs again, but tears roll down his face silently from him. Steve doesn't notice. "I no longer have a family don't you know chief?" Hopper shakes his head. 

"That Family never deserved you anyway Steve" Steve doesn't seem to hear him and continues "And I don't think I'm going to college. Ever. I don't think I can leave this place. I will die here, just stupid and poor Steven without a family."He's so drunk. He doesn't know why he is saying certain things. His mouth moves by itself. "And young. I'll die young" Hopper turns to him, seriously worried "Don't talk shit boy. You'd break y/n's heart by leaving her too soon, then I'd have to kill you again."Steve shakes his head, smiles thinking of you and Hopper sees something change in his gaze, a light, something melting inside him.

"She would be better off without me"

"I'm a father, Steve. I'm a jealous father and you know it kid, but I have to tell you, my daughter would die without you." the boy lowers his head.

"I wish it weren't like this, chief. I'm sorry. "

"Not me my boy. You make her happy and you're our family now. You're not alone. Also don't think I could bear to see her with someone else" Steve shakes his head, sniffs at him and his cheeks flush as he realizes he's been crying in front of Jim Hopper. "It'll be fine son" the man tells him, and there's such a certainty in his words that Steve Harrington decides to believe it for the first time. "You're a good person Steve."

Jim sighs. Sorry for what? He thinks, for having people caring about him? This time he reaches out and ruffles Steve's hair in an affectionate gesture. 

He will be fine. He's fine.He'll get better, he'll do it for you and when Hopper'll bring him home he'll hold you in his arms and repeat you that he knows what he wants, he's known it since the beginning. He loves you madly and he'll get better for you, but by your side , because that is his place, a small space in the world that was created just for him. You'll cry a little hugging him in the middle of the night, you'll think about all the times you've come close to being his -all the almosts, the maybes buts that have kept you apart until now - and the times when you suffered knowing you'd never have him and the ones where you felt your heart skip a beat seeing him with anothergirl and you'll know it was worth it. For him, for your perfect Steve. He'll took you to his bed at night, hiding from your dad, he'll lie down next to you and you'll just to listen to the furious beating of his strong heart and everything will be worthy this moment. And you'll love him and you'll feel loved by him, which deep down, even if he'll never understand it, is the greatest privilege of your life. You hope that one day your love will be enough to convince him of this.

[odetodilfs]

Hopper's husband

I've started this before Christmas then forgot about it, so here I am uploading this. Story takes place during your wedding night and is very sweet. Pairings: Jim Hopper x male reader Content: Both top and bottom Hopper, praising, pet names, ass eating and obviously anal sex.

Just now, after such a long time, you could finally call Jim Hopper your husband. You loved him so much, the wedding was incredible, the pending invitation for his parents was never responded to, guess they just couldn’t see their son marrying another man. You were that man, and it didn’t matter, he loved you more than anything in this world, and now, you were finally his. You decided to do something that would hopefully make up for everything he’s done for you, every little word he said to you, you decided to take his surname. Seeing your name there, right next to his surname made him spill tears of joy and for him to sob into your chest while telling you how much he loved you, now you, him and El were officially the Hoppers and you couldn’t like it more.

Flash forward to your wedding, all of your friends came, your parents… everyone was there to see you two getting married… except Jim’s parents… he obviously was a bit affected by it and you approached him when the celebration had toned down and you two were alone with the music still audible in the background, “Hey… I know it hurts that your parents didn’t come…” you said, trying to lift his spirits “It’s no surprise… they are the most conservative fuckers you’re ever gonna see… but still, it’s your son’s wedding for fuck’s sake, they didn’t even come here to tell me I’ve gone in the wrong path or something… nothing…” he said, voice trembling “Hey, but look, everyone who actually loves you for who you are is here darling, Joyce is here, Murray is here, and I’m here too, for anything you need, which is why I gave my life to you tonight baby, I’ll always be here with you” you said, getting teary eyed as well, you loved him so much. He grabbed you and pulled you in to him, “Fuck, I love you, so much, so fucking much, I don’t deserve someone as good as you” “You deserve me, i deserve you, if anything, tonight we’re here because we’re made for each other”

“Baby…” he said, standing both of you up and leading you to your room… 

He quickly closed the door behind him, you already starting to undress him, kissing him deeply, you could feel the tears he was shedding from the happiness you gave him, god, you loved this softy of a man, he was so big and so protective sometimes but other times he was the sweetest, softest man ever, you loved him. “Baby..” he moaned against your cheek, his stubble brushing across your face, making you feel heavenly, “I want to love you so good…” he said, “then do it, Jim, I need you too” that was enough for him, he pushed you down on the bed, pulled down your pants and started eating your ass out, no stop in between, he craved you, lapping away at your hole like it gave him life, he did this thing where his whole tongue was buried inside you, making your back arch for him. “Mmm baby, so fucking good” he said, murmuring into your ass, you moaned as he swirled his tongue around it. “Fuck baby, I love you so much it’s almost unreal…” he said, god, his compliments were driving you over the edge.

He grabbed the lube from the nightstand and spread it on his dick a on your hole, you moaned as he spread it slowly and gently over your ass, he positioned his cock pointed to your hole and pushed it in. You moaned at the fullness of his cock inside you, he leaned on one arm as you looked into each other’s eyes, you loved how blue his eyes were, how his mustache looked, his cock slowly sinking into your ass causing precum to spill all over your stomach.

When he started thrusting your moans became sharper and louder, you were begging him over and over “fuck me darling” over and over again, his thrust started speeding up as you moaned, he loved how fucking horny he was making you just with a few thrusts, your ass clenching and unclenching on his cock repeatedly, spasming with pleasure. “How could I ever get sick of this ass… I could cum in it for hours…” he said huskily into your ear, a jolt of pleasure rushed past your body as he said this.

Your eyes stayed locked together as he gently thrust into you for the next hour. “My baby… my beautiful husband” he said, thrusting over and over into your slightly worn out ass. He kept this up until his thrusts started speeding up, his breathing starting to get sharper, “Oh fuck… fuck… you’re making me cum baby…” he looked at your face, an expression of pleasure he knew was because of him which turned him on so much, “Fuck, you look so beautiful there sweetheart, you’re my world baby, my world…” those words made your orgasm finally erupt, you came a lot, you could see that you came so hard there was some of your cum on his chest. The way you clenched your ass drew him over the edge too as he unloaded his load into you, claiming you as his. 

He collapsed on top of, kissing you deeply, when you pulled apart to breathe he brought his face to your stomach and started lapping up your cum, grunts of approval rumbling through him as he licked at your release, that sweet nectar only you could give him. When he was finally finished eating your cum and swallowing it, he smiled, the cum on his mustache and chin were making you horny again, “I love you, my beautiful husband” he said in a slightly more submissive, gentle way, the way that word “husband” echoed through your mind, you’d had enough, “Get over here” you said, somehow gathering the strength to pull him below you, your hands trying to get the lube and putting it on your fingers, “Ah- baby-” he said as you started licking his hole, tasting his sweet musk, his sweaty, masculine scent, the way his hole clenched around your tongue… fuck… so hot. “Ah- baby” he said as you slid your finger into him, him taking it easily as he was so horny and needed you so badly it just slid right in. His gaping ass had you feral, the way it stretched and was so warm, just right for your dick, you grabbed a chunk of lube and put it on his ass and your dick. “Wh- what are you doing’” he asked, scared, “Gonna fuck you good baby, about time I compensate you for all the times you’ve done it for me,” you said, his face forming into a smile, “Then fuck me baby, I’ve wanted this for so long, I’ve needed your cock for so long now…” “And you’re gonna fucking have it baby…” With that, your cock slowly started to go deeper inside him…

“Is that ok baby? Does it hurt?” you asked, “It’s not sweetheart- more- please-” he moaned, this was too much for you and started thrusting into him, “fuck- baby- yes! he moaned as you thrusted into him, his hole tightening around your cock and kissing you as you thrusted into him, you knew Hopper didn’t last very long when he was the one getting fucked, he started rutting back against your thrusts, the lube in his ass creating squelching sounds which turned you both on to no end, then, Hopper screamed, burring his face to your chest as his orgasm made him shoot ropes of cum at your stomach, “Baby!!” he screamed, his ass clenched so tightly around your cock and you released your load in him… 

“Fuck baby, that was amazing” he said as you collapsed on his chest, “Yeah it was…” you said, cuddling against his chest, smelling the musk from his sweat that you had made appear on him, “I’m so happy to be your husband” you said to him, “I’m happy too, I’m gonna love you so much baby, I’m gonna go home and make you scream in pleasure every day” he said, kissing your forehead, “Well, you better make me scream in pleasure every day at our honeymoon,” you chuckled,

“I will” he smiled, “I love you” you said, matter of factly even, “I love you too” Hopper said as you both fell asleep, satisfied and exhausted.

[eupheme]

A Long December | Day 1: Pillow Fort

Jim Hopper x F!Reader

Rated G | 780 words

Tags: hopper pov, angst/grief, found family, old memories and new ones

A/N: (inspired by the little blanket fort scene in The Holiday)

It’s late.

It’s late and he’s staring up at the blanket that shrouds the cabin ceiling, trying to find answers in each rip and stain. As if they were some kind of message, a salvation.

He’s been down here for some time. Head cradled under his arm, flat on his back in a way that he knows will ache tomorrow. Something digs into his side - a folded-over, discarded magazine - but he can’t bring himself to care enough to move.

Eyes drifting back and forth, lost in thought.

He doesn’t stir when the door creaks open - he could hear the cadence of the steps across the old, wooden porch.

Hears the door closing back shut afterwards, the rustle of a coat. Her soft voice, calling his name.

His girl.

Hopper’s eyes closing for the briefest second, so the sound will linger.

“Down here.” He grunts, when she calls again.

It’s certain he makes a funny figure - legs far too long, sticking out of the fort he made for El. It had taken an hour to set up - as he tried to think of something to make her smile, with the change in the weather keeping them both inside.

Built from ratty blankets and an old broom and a couple chairs shoved near the couch. He thinks she liked it, had kept an eye on her as she sat underneath it in silence for some time.

After she went to bed, he had meant to tear it down, clean it up. Instead, he found himself crouching down, sliding in himself. Staring up at the faded patterns, thoughts swirling and melding and mixing in his mind. The same ones, over and over.

He’s grateful for this new reprieve.

Eyes flick down to see the socked feet that stop by his thighs, as she crouches down. He sighs in exhaustion and makes to move, but her hand is touching his hip, urging him to shift to the side.

To make room for her, to slide in next to him.

Her head tucks against his shoulder as she stares up with him. A comfortable silence, just the sound of them breathing, the winter wind fluttering against the windows.

His mind, swirling again. Something that’s been growing in his chest - a dread. Ever since Joyce’s son disappeared. Since the girl came to stay with him.

Never thinking he’d find himself here, again. Old fears and aching memories that he thought he had buried rising to the surface. He had been stupid to think that six years would be enough to dull the loss. To make him brave, again.

Fingers brush the back of his hand, grounding him.

Realizing the ache in his jaw from clenched teeth, as his hand flips over so hers can fit in it. She’s warm, her touch soothing as her hand squeezes his.

“Did you build this?” She asks, her head turning to face him.

He swallows hard, pushing the thoughts down, “Yeah. Just a little somethin’ for El.”

“It’s amazing,” she smiles, eyes roving over the space again.

Hopper doesn’t think it’s all that.

He doesn’t even know if it’s nice, his head fixed firmly in place. Noticing a worn set of holes in one of the sheets - making a mental note to figure out how to repair it.

“I never made anything like this,” she continues, “But I used to bring a flashlight to bed, and read my books under the blankets. It made me feel like I was there, you know? Part of the story.”

There’s the creak of a door, soft steps on the floor. He’s saved from answering, because he truly doesn’t know, when a head is peeking under the drooping blanket making up the entrance.

El looks at them - those wide eyes unblinking under the short curling crop of her hair.

“I thought you were asleep,” He tells her, almost accusingly. Fighting a smile, because some things had come back to him. Old habits.

“I heard voices.” She whispers, as she crouches - hesitating for just a second. Unsure of her place.

The hand leaves his and space is silently made for her, the shifting of bodies in the small space. As El crawls in, fitting herself between them, until they’re all staring up - watching the shadows flicker overhead from the fireplace.

“This is a pretty cool fort, don’t you think?”

He’s grateful for his girl, how understanding of a partner she was. Is. How she always has a question for El, how she always has patience. How they have both come to look to her for support, sometimes.

“Yes.” El replies, and it’s just a single word.

But he can hear a depth to it, a satisfaction, a complete agreement. Her eyes bright in the bit of light, as she sees something he cannot.

A dream, a transformation of the space - into something brand new.

He thinks, maybe… he’ll leave it up a few more days.

For now, he lies back - and tries to see what they see.

[dilfcember masterlist]

(taglist - @andrewrussgarfield) (keeping an informal taglist, if you’d like to be tagged please dm or comment and I can! 💕)

[justsomerandomfanfic]

Fanfic Friday Help - 5/7/23

Florist/Tattoo Artist AU - Eddie Munson X Female Reader:

You are a florist and Eddie is a tattoo artist. Both shops are located side by side, and the stark differences are quite comical. One is bright and colorful, and the other is pretty punk rock. Though, through time, an unlikely romance blossoms.

Fake Dating AU - Steve Harrington X Female Reader:

Your parents are adamant that you get a boyfriend, for years they pester you about your love life, after only a year out of high school, you just want them to stop. But, after you accidentally blurted out that you did have a boyfriend, you have to go and ask your old high school bully if he could help you.

Next Door Neighbor AU - Billy Hargrove X Female Reader:

Your next door neighbor has been fighting your father about the property line after your father tries to put up a fence. The fighting never seems to end, and the one time you went out for a peek of the drama, you spotted someone. Who knew your neighbor had a cute son.

Best Friends AU - Jim Hopper X Female Reader:

When you were both kids, Jim found out you were ticklish, and since then he tickles you to cheer you up when you're sad or upset. Not matter how unmature it sort of was, it didn't really matter, it made you and Jim laugh. But, after one tickle fight you realize you might have feelings for your longtime best friend.

[teeth-n-ribbons]

🌷 Welcome! 🌷

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🌸 Thanks for stopping by my blog! I’m Lia, a lover of all things cutesy and pink! As well as slashers and spooky/unsettling imagery, both of which I plan to post often. I also love to write, and while my content will mostly be art-based, I plan to write stories as well. Both original horror stories, and the occasional x reader for fandoms I’m in! Some of which are posted below.

(Quick note, please make sure you read this entire post before continuing onto my blog! Thank you.)

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Movie/TV Franchises:

🌸 Scream (1996) and (2022/23)

🌸 Friday the 13th

🌸 Stranger Things

Games:

🌸 Last of Us

🌸 The Quarry (Potentially, still haven’t finished the game yet!)

Original Content:

🌸 Lepidoptera:

An original horror story which follows the investigation of a retired detective whose son mysteriously disappeared after attending an unheard of metal band’s underground concert, only to slowly begin uncovering just how deep the dark secrets of the teen metalheads truly delve beneath their enthusiastic and outgoing surface.

🌸 Sunnyside’s Cryptic Curse:

An original story that follows a young woman amongst her group of summer camp counselors during their 2-month stay at Sunnyside Summer Camp, and her growing concern for the recent sightings of a potentially inhuman beast lurking within the woods surrounding them. (This story will be a little more ‘ARG’-esque, written in fake logs/updates ((most likely on a separate account that will be linked once I start the story.)) I hope to try and make some creepy realism imagery to add as well!)

…And more to come!

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🌸 Time for some elaboration on when it comes to any x reader content! First off I am an 18+ blog, and most of my x reader content will have N$FW/themes of N$FW. (This does not include my original horror stories, although those may have occasional s#xual themes at times depending on the story.) I will always tag these posts appropriately in the beginning, and place read-more barriers about a paragraph into the story to ensure nobody sees any content they are not comfortable with.

Please be aware of this when following me, and please keep in mind that I am only comfortable with 18+ people interacting with that content and my blog in general, so please kindly do not interact if you are not at least 18. Thank you!! :)

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🌸 I also do not take requests currently, this may potentially change in the future but I don’t have any plans for it at the moment.

However, here are some characters for you to expect to see writing/content of:

🌸 Scream (1996)

• Billy Loomis

• Stu Macher

• Randy Meeks

• Sidney Prescott

• Tatum Riley

• Dewey Riley

🌸 Scream (2022/2023)

• Ethan Landry

• Tara Carpenter

• Sam Carpenter

🌸 Stranger Things

• Robin Buckley

• Eddie Munson

• Steve Harrington

• Jonathan Byers

• Nancy Wheeler

• Jim Hopper

🌸 Last Of Us

• Joel Miller

• Ellie Williams (Game 2 version only)

🌸 The Quarry

• Will be updating this once I finish the game 🤍

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🌸 I only write the reader as gender neutral/female, as I only feel comfortable and interested in writing fxm or fxf, being a bisexual person who aligns more closely to female.

🌸 And lastly, but very importantly:

‼️ If you support anything along the lines of inc*st, p*dophilia, n0n-c0n, and anything else that aligns with this, get off of my page immediately. I do not tolerate things like this in the slightest, and do not want people like this interacting with me.‼️

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Thank you so much if you’ve read through this in whole, and please stick around if you’d like to see some of my future content. 🤍