#nancy wheeler x fairy!reader | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

andvys · 1 year ago

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I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss | part 7

Warnings: slight angst, reader and Eddie getting high together, mentions of cheating and break up's, mentions of bullying, reader and eddie are really affectionate with each other but it’s all platonic. mentions of drugs and alcohol, mentions of Eddie's abusive dad

Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!cheerleader!reader , Steve Harrington x Nancy Wheeler

Summary: Eddie tells you about the night he found Steve at the hideout.

Word Count: 4.6k

A/N: well, I finally figured out how to make headers, let’s see if I will keep doing them haha

masterlist

The room smells like hot chocolate, cinnamon and a hint of Eddie’s cologne. The mug on the table that was filled to the brim is now halfway empty. A box of Christmas cookies that your mom gave him when he came by last night is in between the two of you. He hasn’t stopped munching on them since you started the movie; Halloween.

You couldn’t choose between Friday the 13th and Halloween so you let him pick.

After you let your friends know that you were leaving, you and Eddie went to the diner to eat something before you went back to his trailer after renting a few movies at Family Video.

“I can’t believe that this is your favorite movie,” Eddie says as he bites into the snowflake shaped cookie.

You turn to look at him. He is still wearing the same clothes as before just like you.

“Are you judging me?” You snort, swatting his arm. “You literally picked it.”

He chuckles and looks at you with a smirk, “I picked between the ones you chose.”

“You literally said that Halloween is one of your favorite movies!”

He shrugs, chewing the cookie before he speaks up again, “maybe I lied.”

You roll your eyes and lean back, “so what’s your favorite movie then, master of dungeons?”

The nickname makes him chuckle, he turns his head away from the screen, “Halloween.”

He laughs when you shake your head in disbelief, grabbing one of the pillows, you hit him with it, causing him to laugh harder.

“Dork.”

He snorts at you, “dork? What happened with the master of dungeons?”

You lean closer to him and look into his eyes with a serious look on your face, “he turned into a massive dork.”

“If I’m a dork then what are you?”

“A fairy witch,” you wink at him and reach for one of the cookies before you lean back.

His eyes flash with amusement, his lips curl into a smile, “right,” he laughs, “is the fairy witch gonna stay over tonight?”

You face him again, the cookie is still in your hand. There’s a knowing look in his eyes.

He knows your mom won’t be home tonight, she is working the night shifts this week and won’t be home until the morning. If there is one thing that Eddie had learned about you in the time you had become friends, is that you hate going to sleep when you are home alone, he doesn’t know why but he noticed your anxiety early on. He saw the tired look in your eyes in the mornings and he noticed how easily you would drift off to sleep when he came by after school to study. You would make up excuses when he’d ask you about it but he could see through you.

He doesn’t know the reasoning behind your fears but he understands it. When he was a kid, he was restless, he struggled to sleep at nights because of his dad, who usually came home late after spending the night drinking or doing drugs. Whenever Eddie would hear the front door opening, his heart would start racing and he would be on high alert – his dad always picked fights with his mom and all Eddie ever wanted to do was to protect her. But he was just a kid and his dad was a violent man.

Eddie couldn’t protect her.

When he moved in with Wayne, nothing changed for the first few months. He kept staying up at nights – the anxiety and the fear that always lingered kept him up. Whenever he would fall asleep, nightmares would wake him up. He would hear the trailer door being slammed open, he would hear his mom screaming, his dad yelling and hitting things. Eddie would wake in cold sweat, he would jump up from the bed and run out of the room to stop his dad from hitting her only to realize that the trailer door never opened, his dad never came in and his mom would never be there again.

He knows that you are struggling with something too but he would never push you to talk. He just wants to protect you.

“We could watch Friday the 13th and y’know, share a joint.”

You swallow.

“You don’t mind me staying over?”

Eddie frowns at your question and shakes his head, “why would I ask if I minded you staying over? You know you’re always welcome here, sweetheart.”

You smile at his words. Eddie always knows how to make you feel safe and comfortable. Heather and Chrissy make you feel that way too but it’s different with them. You love and appreciate them but there are things that you can’t say to them – not because you don’t trust them but because you wouldn’t be able to deal with their pitiful looks, it’s been bad enough already after he dumped you.

You aren’t the only one who refuses to speak about certain things. You know that Chrissy has a secret, one that Heather is keeping safe from you. It hurts a little because a part of you is scared that it might have something to do with you. Why else would they keep a secret from their best friend?

“Then I’d love to stay the night.”

He smiles, “cool.”

After you finish watching the movie, you carry the empty mugs and the box of cookies back into the kitchen. Eddie turns off the TV and reaches for the other movie tape before he leads you into his room. He turns on the small lamp on his nightstand and throws the tape on his bed. He walks over to his dresser and opens the top drawer.

“You know, the joint you mentioned earlier…” you mumble as you let yourself fall on his bed, curiously staring at the handcuffs that remain a mystery to you.

“You know, they should be calling you ‘the stoner’, not me,” he snorts. He turns back to you and hands you a shirt, he eyes you up and down, “here, that dress is pretty but it can’t be comfortable to sleep in,” he laughs.

“How kind of you,” you chuckle. You unfold the shirt, your eyes widen a little, “isn’t that your favorite one?”

He nods as he takes the chain around his neck off and places it on his nightstand.

“My favorite girl gets my favorite shirt,” he says, ruffling your hair as he winks at you.

You swat his hand away and laugh, “how many girls do you say that to, Eddie?”

He raises his brows and places his hand on his chest, “you think I’m bringing home girls? Did you forget who I am?” He laughs, shaking his head.

You furrow your brows. You drop the shirt on your lap and tilt your head to look at him.

You and Eddie haven’t been friends for long but you feel comfortable with each other – comfortable enough for him to take his shirt off in front of you. He throws it over his chair, he stands there shirtless for a second, scratching the spot around his new tattoo. He is just your friend but you are not blind, Eddie is pretty in a way no other guy at school is – except for Steve.

“You’re saying that you don’t bring any girls home?” You ask as you carefully pull the straps of your dress down your arms before you put the shirt on. Too lazy to get up and change in the bathroom, you take the dress off after pulling the shirt down to your thighs.

He puts on a black tank top and closes the drawer. “And no, I don’t bring any girls home. I’m a freak, nobody wants me.”

“Don’t say that,” you frown.

“Well, it’s the truth,” he chuckles as he drops down on the bed beside you after getting the pre rolled joint and a lighter, “girls don’t want me and honestly, I don’t care. I wouldn’t want to bring random girls home anyways.”

You raise your brows in surprise, it makes him chuckle but his eyes flash with confusion.

“What?”

“You actually wouldn’t bring home girls?” You ask. “Like, not even if they were throwing themselves at you?”

“You mean if I was popular?” He snorts.

You nod.

He shakes his head, he scoots closer to you and offers you the joint. You take it in between your fingers and bring it up towards your mouth, wrapping your lips around it, you look at him expectedly, nudging your chin towards the lighter in his hand. He holds it up to the joint and flicks the lighter, holding the flame against the bud of the joint. You inhale and close your eyes.

Eddie chuckles and pats your back when you open your eyes and exhale the smoke without coughing this time.

“Like a real stoner.”

“Shut up,” you chuckle and offer him the joint which he takes right away. He places it in between his lips and lies back, tucking his arm behind the pillow. He looks up at the ceiling and sighs after exhaling the smoke. For a moment, it’s silent between the two of you.

You stand up and place your dress over the back of his chair after folding it. You turn on the TV before you plop back down on the bed.

“I won’t lie to you, I’ve hooked up with uh – maybe three girls but they didn’t bother sticking around, they wouldn’t even look at me afterwards, they looked disgusted, every single one of them. I-I don’t know what I was thinking, I was hoping that it would be different each time but they were the same, all of them. The sex was good but uh I honestly don’t see the point of it if they don’t bother sticking around or if there’s no actual meaning behind it.”

Your heart breaks for him. You can imagine what he must have felt like when they treated him that way. You can see the sadness in his eyes, even when he tries to mask it.

You scoot closer to him and reach for his hand, his eyes meet yours and he smiles at you.

“You deserve better Eddie,” you whisper, squeezing his hand. “They were stupid cunts.”

A laugh falls from his lips, he tries to mask the hurt in his eyes with amusement but you can see through him, just like he can see through you.

“You know, Steve wouldn’t look at me either, sometimes. He just uh, he would fuck me, he would finish and then he would pass out. He rarely ever held me or kissed me, he almost never said ‘I love you’ either.”

Eddie frowns at your words. He isn’t shocked but he is angry.

“It hurt so bad because I loved him so much and all I wanted was for him to just hold me and tell me that he loves me but he didn’t and it made me overthinking everything,” you mumble as you blink the tears away, “and then there was Tommy who always said how men need new partners all the time, how they get bored with their girlfriends and I was praying that that wasn’t the case for Steve, that the reason why he never held me or kissed me was because he was just bad at being affectionate and romantic but then he agreed with what he said even though I was right there and it uh, it hurt, really fucking bad. I kinda lied to myself though, I kept telling myself that he did love me, that he didn’t get bored with me but then he left me for her and he changed for her so uh, I figured that Tommy was right all along.”

Eddie scoffs, he shakes his head at your words, “that’s not true, sweetheart.”

“It’s not?” You ask as you look back up at him.

“No. Tommy is a shittalker and Steve is an idiot – like a real idiot,” Eddie says as his eyes widen. He laughs a little, it’s a humorless laugh but a laugh nonetheless. “He was a piece of shit for not treating you the way you deserve to be treated but I think that he is one of those guys who lets his friends words get to him, who feels pressured to keep his reputation as some fucking heartbreak King rather than be a good boyfriend.” He looks like he knows something that you don’t. “He’s also the type of guy who doesn’t know what he has until it’s gone.”

“That makes sense,” you say even though you are not sure whether it actually makes sense or not. He almost kissed you and then he told you that he still loves you, that he always loved you only to show up to the dance with Nancy, like nothing ever happened.

Eddie stares at you. Your brows are furrowed and you have that same confused and lost look in your eyes that you always have whenever you get lost in your thoughts.

“Hey uh, I should probably tell you something,” he says as he sits up. He scratches the back of his neck and offers you the joint. You take it but don’t smoke it yet.

“What’s up?”

He runs his fingers through his curls and he takes a deep breath, “I drove him home last night.”

“Huh?”

He sighs, “Steve. I drove him home last night. I went to the Hideout to get my notebook and he was there getting plastered. He followed me outside and started asking about the jacket,” he mumbles, pointing to the jacket that is now back in his room again. “He got all pissed and jealous.”

You roll your eyes and scoff at his words.

“He calmed down when I told him we’re friends but uh, he tried to leave and I would’ve felt awful letting him drive home like that so I drove him home.”

A smile tugs at your lips, Eddie’s kindness is something that always warms your heart. To know that he is showing such kindness to people who don’t deserve it just proves even more how amazing he is.

“He started crying.”

A shocked expression takes over your face and you draw back a little, “what?”

“Yeah,” Eddie chuckles as he shakes his head. “He uh– well, first he insulted my music taste and then I turned on the radio for him, David Bowie came on and boom, I have a sobbing King Steve in my van.”

“Oh,” you whisper, your gaze softens. “David Bowie?”

“Mhmm.” He reaches for the joint again and places it between his lips, taking a drag before he places it into the ashtray on his nightstand. “Heroes.”

Your lips part and your face falls. It was your song. Yours and his. To know that it has such a hold on him still, makes you feel things that you want to keep buried.

You push yourself up and sit in front of him, “then what?”

Eddie’s brown eyes soften, he can see the pain in your features, the love that you still have for him. He can’t imagine how much pain there still is. He clears his throat.

“He said he misses you, that he doesn’t know what to do without you and that he wants you back.”

Your eyebrows draw together and your eyes feel hot with tears. Your heart hurts. After all, you still want him, deep down you do but you won’t take him back, not after everything he did. Not after the way he treated you, not after he cheated on you emotionally, not after he made you doubt everything, not after he told you that he never loved you, not after he left you for another girl.

You look down to hide the tears in your eyes. After almost two months, you should be feeling better, you were starting feeling better but then he had to rip the bandaids of your wounds that he had given you.

You don’t like crying in front of other people, you have never cried in front of Eddie before but right now, you can’t really stop the tears from falling. It’s all just too much.

“Hey,” Eddie whispers. His eyes soften and he doesn’t even hesitate before he opens his arms for you, offering you a hug that you so desperately need. You crawl over to him and let yourself fall into his arms. He wraps his arms around you as you lay your head on his chest. He rubs your back gently. “I’m here, I got you.”

You close your eyes and melt into the hug, this is what you needed.

This is what he never gave you. The feeling of comfort and safety. The feeling of knowing that he won’t push you away again after a few minutes.

You loved Steve – you love him. He was there but he was never with you. His mind was somewhere else, it always was. He gave you moments but he never gave you his all. With him you were never alone but god, you were so lonely.

Eddie keeps holding you. The sound of your cries and the voices in the TV fill the silence in the room.

He keeps rubbing your back, he plays with your hair and he doesn’t let go.

Why couldn’t he just hold you like he does?

“I know that this won’t make anything better but I think he loves you and he is starting to realize what he lost – only a man in love would get drunk at a bar he hates and break down in front of a guy he hates, also.”

You sniffle and grip his shirt tighter.

“Then why is he still with her? Why didn’t he love me before?”

“I think he always loved you, he was just too dumb to see and she,” he pauses, sighing. “She’s probably just a rebound now. Honestly, I think he was scared of all of this, his love for you. He was scared of it so he just threw it away and fucked it all up and now he’s following you around like some lost puppy.”

He does look like one, with his stupid brown eyes and the sad look in them.

“Why are you telling me this, Eddie?”

He takes a deep breath, he looks down at you but you hide your face as you wipe your tears away.

“I don’t know, I just think that he made a mistake and that the pain he put himself through shaped him into a different person,” he says, still glancing down at you, “I know you think that she changed him but that’s not the truth. I think he changed because of you – he’s still a dick and I don’t think that he deserves you but for what it’s worth, he does love you and he did love you even when he didn’t act that way but I saw the way he looked at you.”

You sniffle, trying to control your breathing as you look up at him, “what do you mean?”

His eyes soften and he hugs you even tighter, “when you were still together, he always looked at you like.. shit, like you hung the moon and the stars,” he chuckles. “I was shocked when I found out that he left you for some other girl. Made no sense to me, still doesn’t, by the way.”

You don’t know whether his words make you feel better or worse.

Eddie’s brown eyes are filled with sincerity and softness.

He can’t understand how Steve could do this to you. How he could just treat you so horribly and break your heart so easily.

“I think he really wants you back but I don’t think that he deserves a second chance, not yet.”

“Not yet?”

“I’m not gonna say that he will ever deserve one but maybe–” he pauses, he sighs as he watches the tears rolling down your cheeks, “maybe he will change and maybe he will fight for you and maybe it will be worth giving him that chance.”

You scrunch your face up and slowly shake your head, “I can’t.”

“You don’t have to,” he says as he squeezes your arms, “it’s just, I can see that you love him and as much as I don’t like him or the idea of you going back to him, he really loves you too – it would be a shame if you both spend the rest of your lives longing for each other when you could just be together.”

“What would you do?” You ask. You place your palms against his chest and you lean your chin on the top of your hands. “If you were in my place.”

He blinks and he stares at you for a long moment.

“I would just focus on myself for now,” he mumbles. He reaches his hand out to touch your hair, running his fingers through it, “I would find things that I enjoy doing – not what I was forced to enjoy.”

You look down and sigh.

“I would try out new things, focus on school and I know that you will snatch that diploma, I’d get the hell out of here after that. Maybe in the future, you and Steve will find your way back to each other or maybe you will meet someone who will love you the way you deserve to be loved,” he says.

You’re met with a soft look in his eyes when you raise your head to face him again. You smile at him.

“You will snatch that diploma too, Eddie. I’ll help you.”

“I know you will,” he smiles.

“And then we should get out of here together – we should move to LA so you can become the rockstar that you’re meant to be. We can rent a place together, I always wanted to live with a friend.”

He laughs at your words but then he falls quiet and his eyes flash with something you can’t read.

“You know that might be a good idea.”

“I know it is.”

“Shit,” he chuckles, “we should actually do that.”

“Right?”

“Right,” he smiles.

“And what will you be?” He asks, turning his head to look at you as you lie back beside him.

You lick your lips and stare at the new poster on his ceiling. What do you want to be? Who do you want to be?

You furrow your brows in concentration, a weird feeling settles in your chest. You don’t know. You don’t know anything, it seems like. Who even are you?

“I-I’m not sure.”

Eddie can sense the stress you’re feeling, he takes your hand in his, “hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to know yet.”

“I just.. I don’t even know what I want, Eddie,” you whisper, “I don’t even know who I am.”

You turn back to him, your sad eyes meet his. He squeezes your hand.

“You’ll figure it out, I know you will and I’ll be there with you.”

You maintain eye contact and scoot closer to him as you turn on your side.

“You’re the best, Eddie.”

His eyes shift as he stares at you, he turns on his side as well, “nah, you are the best,” he smiles, tapping your nose the way he always does.

“Don’t tell Heather or Chrissy but you might be my new best friend.”

His eyes light up at your words and his smile widens, “only if you don’t tell Gareth and Jeff that you are my new best friend.”

Your eyes widen, a giggle falls from your lips, “your secret is safe with me.”

“Yours is safe with me too.”

“Pinky promise?” You ask as you hold your hand out to him.

He laughs and brings his hand up, hooking his pinky around yours, “pinky promise.”

You both fall silent as you look at each other with smiles on your faces.

“Shit, who would’ve thought that I’d ever have the queen of Hawkins High in my bed.”

“Shut up,” you laugh.

For the rest of the night, you and Eddie talk about your lives after high school, dreaming about things that might never happen but it doesn’t matter, all that matters is the laughs you both share. You watch Friday the 13th and continue passing the joint back and forth, only making each other laugh harder by making fun of the movie that isn’t even funny.

You are grateful for Eddie and for the love and kindness he is giving you. He has become your little beacon of hope. He is the one who makes you laugh now, he is the one who holds you when you need it the most, he is the friend that everything feels so natural with – even falling asleep in his arms when you’re in nothing but panties and his shirt. You wouldn’t have done that with any other guy but he makes you feel safe.

When you wake up in his arms the next morning, you feel lost and confused for a second. His arms are wrapped around your waist and your head is on his chest, you can hear his heartbeat. For a moment, you thought you were somewhere else, in someone else’s arms but when you open your eyes and you are met with Eddie’s sleeping face, you relax a little.

You can’t help but smile as you look at him.

If Steve didn’t dump you, you wouldn’t be here. You would be in his bed right now. But you wouldn’t feel his arms around you, you wouldn’t feel his warmth, you wouldn’t feel him. You would wake up to a harsh reality, one where you continuously lied to yourself in order to keep him and to keep yourself happy. But were you ever happy?

You miss him, despite what happened, you still miss him.

But maybe it was for the better.

Maybe it had to happen this way.

You wouldn’t have Eddie now. You would have never become friends. And now, you wouldn’t trade this for anything in this world. This friendship has given you more than your relationship with Steve ever did.

Yet, you still need closure. You want answers and a peaceful conversation.

So you make the decision to try it. To try and talk and sort things out. You let go of him but there are still so many things that you don’t understand, things that will never give you if you don’t sit down and have that much needed conversation with him.

When you show up at his house, later that night. You didn’t expect to see his parents' car in the driveway, next to his. You stand in the darkness for a moment, contemplating whether you should actually ring the doorbell or not. The lights are on in the kitchen and in the dining room.

What if she is here?

What if they are having dinner together?

Is she sitting in your spot now?

Does his mom like her the way she always liked you?

Does his dad hug her the way he hugged you whenever he saw you?

You close your eyes and you take a deep breath, inhaling the cold air. You try to calm your heartbeat. Was it a good idea to come here? What if he doesn’t want to see you? What if–

You open your eyes and walk up the stairs, you ring the doorbell before your mind can convince you to turn on your heel and run. You can hear the faint sound of music in the house.

You dig your nails into your palms as you grow more and more nervous. You bounce your knee and stare down at the snow beneath your boots.

The door opens and you raise your head, for some reason you had expected Steve’s dad to open the door but instead it’s him. You watch as his eyes widen, they lighten up a little but they also flash with confusion.

“Hi, can we talk?”

next part

tagging friends & mutuals only!

@mysticmunson @wroteclassicaly @corrodedseraphine @corrodedcorpses @screammunson @hellfire--cult @taintedcigs @imjuststeddietrashatthispoint @sherrylyn628 @somethingvicked @take-everything-you-can @nemesis729

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

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corroded-hellfire · 2 years ago

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Attend the Tale - Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Eddie proclaims to theatre nerd!reader that musicals are too happy for him. You then tell him the tale of Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street

Note: This is partially because Gaten is currently in the show on broadway, yes, but also because it is one of my favorite musicals of all time and I myself am a huge theatre nerd.

Warnings: spoilers for Sweeney Todd, which has dark themes including bloody violence, murder, and cannibalism.

Words: 2.3k

Hawkins High School likes conventional. It likes when things make sense. For instance, it made sense when Chrissy Cunningham was nominated for Prom Queen, and Jason Carver for Prom King. It made sense that Nancy Wheeler was on track to give the valedictorian speech at graduation at the end of the year. What didn’t make sense—at least from an outsider's perspective—is you and Eddie.

Eddie Munson was all metal, band t-shirts, chunky silver rings, long wild mane, and tattoos. You are not metal. You are costumes, makeup, rehearsing lines and practicing songs for an audition. A theatre nerd, essentially. At night, Eddie blasts Metallica in his room, while you’re playing Andrew Lloyd Webber and attempting to hit the high notes in Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again. The two of you looked like opposite sides of the spectrum. But in reality, you were two sides of the same coin. Both passionate about the music that moves you, embodying the looks of your respective niches.

When you met, there was an initial clash between the two of you over use of the drama room. Yes, it was used for Hellfire meetings, but it was the drama room and Eddie shouldn’t have thrown a fuss if you had to come in and grab a costume that had been left in there earlier. Once the original ire cooled, the two of you found you gelled together quite nicely. Only someone else who has that deep appreciation for music can understand what it’s like to feel the music in your very soul, in every beat of your heart, and every breath you take.

Though there wasn’t a crossover appeal with each other’s music, both you and Eddie could appreciate and respect the other’s taste. Eddie would blast metal in the van on the way home from school, so you’d come to learn some of the songs and point out your favorites to your boyfriend. When the two of you were at your house, a Sondheim or a Rodgers & Hammerstein record would be playing in the background as you makeout on your bed.

Eddie had seen you in the last musical Hawkins High had put on—Into the Woods. The dark take on multiple fairy tales had drawn Eddie in more than he thought it would. Obviously, he had only gone to see you—dragging Dustin along because the curly haired boy was the only one willing to accompany him—but he ended up being honestly impressed by the talent and hard work it takes to put on a show. Hearing you sing as Cinderella had almost moved Eddie to tears, something he would never admit to a soul. But Dustin had noticed and told you when Eddie had gone to the bathroom after the show. You recognized the same dedication and effort in Eddie when you saw him performing with Corroded Coffin.

After you begged Eddie to play The Sound of Music cassette you just bought while you’re driving around one weekend, he comes up with a thought that astounds you.

“You know, musicals are just too happy for me. Everything is always okay in the end, and everyone sings and dances and it’s happily ever after.”

You’re staring at him for a good minute before he notices. He raises an eyebrow at you in question.

“That is so not true!”

“Babe,” Eddie says, knocking the rings of his right hand against the van’s radio. “We’re literally listening to a show that has singing nuns and nazis. And guess what? Everything ends tied up with a bow.”

“First of all,” you say, flopping back in your seat with a huff. “This is based on a true story. So, sorry that the real Von Trapp family escaped the nazis. Secondly, there are plenty of dark musicals. You saw Into the Woods!”

“Yeah, it was dark for fairy tales. I listen to metal. The witch cursing a family doesn’t quite cut it as ‘dark’ for me.”

“West Side Story? It’s tragic!”

“Tragedy and darkness aren’t really the same thing,” Eddie says with a shrug. “I mean, they can be. But they literally have gangs prancing down the street. Sad story, sure. But I wouldn’t say dark.”

You purse your lips in the way that Eddie finds adorable as you look out the window. A cheery song about favorite things playing isn’t helping you come up with any dark musicals.

“Aha! Phantom of the Opera,” you say, turning towards Eddie. “Kidnapping, murder, disfigured character. Dark enough for you?”

“Eh,” Eddie says with a shrug. “The opera part kinda cancels it out for me.”

Just as Eddie’s pulling into your driveway, your face lights up with an idea. Eddie notices it as he pulls the keys out of the ignition, the jingling of them breaking you out of your mini trance.

“Sweeney Todd.”

“Who?” Eddie asks.

“Sweeney Todd!” you repeat, as if just hearing it again will make everything clear to Eddie. Both of you get out of the car and you fumble to get your house keys out of your bag. “The Demon Barber of Fleet Street.”

“Did we switch subjects, or…? Should I know this Todd dude?” Eddie asks as he follows you inside. He kicks his shoes off next to the door just as you do, and you toss your bag onto the closest chair.

“It’s a Stephen Sondheim musical,” you say. “Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street.”

“A demon barber?” Eddie asks with a laugh.

Spinning away from him and his dismissive chuckle, you stroll over to your collections of records. Nimble fingers pick through them until you find the one you’re looking for. Eddie just watches as you move to the record player and load up the album. The opening notes start slow at first, then gaining volume, with a haunting quality to the melody. It sounds eerily like music you would hear at a funeral. Then a piercing noise—a scream? a scrape? —slices through the air, startling Eddie. He won’t let you know it just yet, but this already has him intrigued.

Attend the tale of Sweeney Todd

His skin was pale and his eye was odd

He shaved the faces of gentlemen

Who never thereafter were heard of again

“Hmm,” Eddie hums, a smile curling on his lips. “Okay, you’ve got my attention.”

“It’s bloody and gory,” you say, jumping onto your couch. Eddie chuckles as he watches your socked feet move over the gray overstuffed cushions. You hold your hands out in front of you, fingers splayed as you begin to summarize the show in a melodramatic voice. “Sweeney Todd—who is actually named Benjamin Barker—returns to London after being wronged by a judge many years ago. Judge Turpin stole his wife and daughter. Like, literally stole. Not like he seduced her or something, he straight up took her and had her husband sent away.”

Eddie wrinkles up his nose and crosses his arms over his chest. “That’s creepy as hell.”

“Oh, that’s nothing,” you say with a devious smile. As you continue on with the tale, the music playing in the background, you keep walking across the couch, jumping to the adjacent couch as well when you come to the edge. Eddie watches you, an adoring look in his eyes. “So, Sweeney stays with this lady, Mrs. Lovett, who has a pie shop. And he starts up as a barber again, with the goal of getting the judge to come in so he can…” You run your finger across your neck, imitating the slitting of your throat.

“Does he stick the bastard?” Eddie asks, jumping up on the couch you just vacated.

“Hold on, hold on,” you say, shooting him a smirk. “This other dude comes in and recognizes Sweeney back from when he was Barker, so Sweeney kills him. When he and Mrs. Lovett are trying to figure out what to do with the body, she comes up with an idea! But is it too much? Never, for this twisted pair!”

Eddie laughs as he listens and watches. Your eyes are wide, a crazed look there as you describe the warped tale. Even if he wasn’t genuinely enjoying this debauched plot, he would’ve been thoroughly amused by your performance.

“They decide to get rid of the body by grinding him up and putting him in the meat pies!”

“Ugh,” Eddie groans, face full of disgust. “That’s morbid.”

“Told ya,” you say with a proud smirk. “But they don’t stop there. Every man who comes to Sweeney’s shop becomes the new flavor of the day. And the people love the meat pies. They keep selling out of them.”

“Okay, okay,” Eddie says, holding his hands up in front of him. “I concede. This is a dark musical.”

“Thank you,” you say, offering him a dramatic bow. “The dead bodies do not just come out tap dancing or some other cliche, cheesy shit you accuse musicals of. Although now that I’m thinking about that, it would’ve been cool.”

“So, how’s it end?” Eddie asks, jumping over to the couch you’re on.

“Oh, no, no, no,” you say, shaking your head and backing a step away from him. “You’ll have to listen. Wait! See! They’re about to tell you.” You hold your finger to your lips, telling Eddie to be silent so he can hear the final lyrics of the song.

Attend the tale of Sweeney Todd

He served a dark and a vengeful god

What happened then, well, that's the play

And he wouldn't want us to give it away

Not Sweeney

Not Sweeney Todd

The demon barber of Fleet street

Eddie steps forward and tugs on your waist until you’re flush up against him. “You seem to really enjoy this creepy shit.”

“I haven’t even told you the rest,” you say, cupping his face in your hands. “There’s the judge wanting to marry the daughter he stole as well. A beggar woman who goes around asking men if they wanna fuck her. And then there’s Antony and Toby who are precious boys.”

“Jesus,” Eddie says with a laugh. “Might just have to borrow this record.”

“I thought you’d like it,” you say, a satisfied smirk on your lips. “I know my boyfriend’s taste.”

“Yes, you do,” he mumbles as he leans in and presses his lips against yours. The two of you share lazy kisses for a few minutes, just standing there on your couch in the middle of your living room. When you finally break for air, Eddie rests his forehead against yours and lets out a small laugh. “Who would’ve thought I’d find a girlfriend who can match my theatrics?”

“I think I outdo your theatrics, thank you very much,” you say. “In private, anyway. I know I can be my true, authentic weird self with you.”

“I love your weird self,” Eddie says, hands roaming down to your ass.

“And I love you.”

Eddie grins and presses a few more kisses to your mouth.

“Are there any duets in the show?” Eddie asks. “Could learn it and we could sing it together.”

The way your eyes light up at his words has his heart stuttering in his chest. He’d never admit it, but he’d memorize all of Sondheim’s compositions if you wanted him to. Anything for you.

“Yeah,” you say, voice the quietest it’s been this whole time. Before continuing, you clear your throat and blink your eyes a few times. “My favorite song from it is a duet. It’s the one where they decide to put the men into the pies. It’s called A Little Priest.”

You quickly hop off the couch and stop the record. Carefully, you turn it over and place it back down. Your eyes scan the track list printed on the record’s jacket to find the right spot. Placing the needle back down, a surge of pride flows through you as you hear it start playing exactly where you want it to.

Seems a downright shame…

Turning back towards Eddie, you try to emulate Mrs. Lovett. Kind of crazy, but even crazier for the man in front of her. That part you have down perfectly. The fond look Eddie is giving you makes your tummy all fuzzy and your head all light. Knowing that not only can you be completely and unabashedly yourself around Eddie, but that he actually loves you like that still boggles your mind.

The song is funny, filled with puns and jokes, and you sing through the lyrics with ease. As the long song comes to its end, you step up on the coffee table and use it as your stage. Closing your eyes, you throw your arms in the air dramatically as if you’re riding a roller coaster.

We'll not discriminate great from small!

No, we'll serve anyone,

Meaning anyone,

And to anyone

At all!

Eddie claps as you finish belting the last note, and your face warms at his praise. A shy giggle escapes you as you curtsy on top of the table. Your boyfriend hops down from the couch and wraps both of his arms around your legs. He flops backwards so he’s lying on the couch, pulling you along so you’re on top of him.

“You’re so damn cute,” Eddie says.

“Takes one to know one, Munson,” you say, finger coming up to boop the tip of his nose.

“I feel like I’m gonna have to take you to Broadway as a graduation gift,” Eddie muses.

“Baby,” you whine, shaking your head. “You don’t have to do that.”

“You don’t wanna take a trip with me?” he asks, jutting out his bottom lip in his most adorable pout. The big cow eyes only add to it.

“Of course I do,” you say. “Not letting you buy me a trip for graduation, though!”

“Fine,” Eddie says with a sigh. “What if it’s a gift for both of us? We go up together over the summer? Huh?” He grins and tucks a piece of hair behind your ear. “You, me, whatever shows you want, then a nice big hotel bed at night. I won’t pay for everything, I promise.”

A giggle bubbles out of you and you rest your head in the crook of Eddie’s neck. “Sounds perfect, Eddie.”

“I love you, my little theatre nerd.”

“I love you, my adorable metal head.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #Eddie Munson x theatre nerd!reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fan fiction

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sweetblinginrose · 7 months ago

Text

𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲’𝐬 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥! ,

(OS Steve Harrington x fem!reader Kline x Robin Buckley)

summary: you, Steve’s ex-girlfriend, bounce out of town because of your dad’s passing. You decide to swing back during the holidays after your big transformation, only to stumble upon this chick who’s feeding into your sensual cravings.

word count: 11k +

warnings: infidelity, oral sex (receiving, female), homophobia, lesbianism, two-year age difference (both are older), kisses, inexperience, scissoring, no cuddling after sex, caught by a bystander.

a/n: i wrote this bored, so there’s a bit of filler. not recommended for folks craving instant action, there’s some backstory here. can’t promise it’s all good, wrote it while watching a movie lol

masterlist

━━ ✧♡✧ ━━ ✧♡✧ ━━ ✧♡✧ ━━

Indeed, your life seemed like a modern fairy tale, but with a touch of irony. Being the daughter of Mayor Laurence ‘Larry’ Kline, your existence was wrapped in an aura of privilege and power. However, not everything that glitters is gold, and behind the facade of perfection, secrets and uncomfortable truths were hidden, but you ignored them.

Since childhood, you were the center of attention, not only for being the mayor’s descendant, but also for your innate charisma. Your room was a sanctuary of toys and luxuries: shelves filled with porcelain dolls with glassy eyes that seemed to follow you around, drawers overflowing with colorful ribbons that adorned your hair, and a vanity covered with imported makeup you hadn’t even fully learned how to use. Your clothes were never repeated. You had a wardrobe that rivaled the most exclusive shops, with designer dresses and shoes that squeaked when you wore them for the first time. The attention you received was constant and sometimes overwhelming. Boys and girls your age looked at you with a mix of admiration and envy, while adults treated you with a deference that bordered on servile. And then there was Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington, the golden boy of Hawkins, your favorite plaything, whose attention seemed to be the most coveted prize. His charming smile and perfectly styled hair were the dream of many, but he only had eyes for you. However, even that perfect relationship had its cracks, its secrets that only you knew, since you had been fortunate enough to snatch his virginity.

With every step you took down the hallway, the murmur of conversations mingled with the sound of your little platforms. Your pastel yellow Chanel skirt was like a ray of sunshine amidst the monotony, drawing looks that oscillated between admiration and envy. You felt as if you were on an impromptu catwalk, with the school hallways transformed into your personal stage.

Your best friend, always by your side, shared your confident and elegant attitude. Although rumors said her financial situation wasn’t as comfortable, her demeanor and style left no doubt that she was up to the challenge. Together, you formed a dynamic duo, two fashion forces in a sea of sportswear and uniformity.

As you passed by Steve Harrington and Nancy Wheeler, the couple of the moment, you felt a spark of satisfaction. Despite their smiles and the image of happiness they projected, there was an open secret that everyone in the school knew: Steve was with Nancy trying to fill the void you had left, just as he does with all the girls. His presence by her side was only a shadow compared to the memories he shared with you. It was a game of appearances and hidden emotions, a delicate dance of glances and whispers that intertwined in the everyday life of the school day. And in that dance, you held the baton, aware of every movement and the melody that only you could orchestrate.

Every time you approached Steve, your steps were confident and your presence unmistakable. You could see how his world paused for a moment, how his eyes left whatever had captured his attention to meet yours. Even in the most unexpected moments, like when his lips were about to touch Nancy’s, he would pull away, as if an invisible magnet was drawing him towards you.

“Hi, Stevie…” you would say with a warm voice and a tone that resonated with a mixture of respect and genuine affection. It wasn’t just a formality imposed by the long-standing friendship between your father and his, but a gesture you sincerely enjoyed.

His response never changed: a silly smile, one of those that appear without permission from the brain and speak more of feelings than words. It was a smile that didn’t need embellishments or explanations, that said “Glad to see you…” without needing to utter a single syllable. And although he would never admit it out loud, you knew that smile was just for you, a small secret shared in the midst of daily routine.

With a subtle yet meaningful gesture, you ran your tongue over your lower lip, a slow and deliberate movement that didn’t go unnoticed. Your eyebrows arched slightly, an unequivocal signal that only he could decipher. You looked him up and down, a quick but intense scan that confirmed the mutual attention. Then, with a grace that seemed as natural as breathing, you decided to continue on your way, letting the pastel yellow skirt sway gently with each step you took.

To any casual observer, your behavior was nothing more than a mundane greeting, one of those social exchanges that fade into the collective memory of everyday life. However, what they were unaware of was the espionage game hidden behind that facade of normalcy. That “Stevie” pronounced with a particular cadence and that raising of eyebrows were the secret code, the agreed signal that indicated it was time to act.

He, knowing its meaning, didn’t hesitate for a second. Anything he was doing was suspended, abandoned without remorse.

With the mental agility of an experienced spy, he turned to Nancy with an apologetic expression on his face. “Nancy, I’m sorry, but I need to check something on the sound system,” he said, his voice attempting to sound casual but unable to fully hide the underlying urgency. “I think I left something on and I don’t want it to overheat.”

Nancy, accustomed to his sudden technical disappearances, nodded with a understanding smile. “It’s okay, Steve. Go and fix whatever you need,” she replied, releasing him with a gentle pat on the arm.

His steps quickened, driven by the urgency of that silent call, heading towards the stairs hidden behind the locker rooms. It was a ritual they had perfected over time, a dance of glances and gestures that communicated much more than words ever could…

The muffled whisper faded into the dimness, a secret confessed only to the dancing shadows around. Each touch of his tongue was a promise, a silent oath igniting a cascade of sensations, a rushing river flowing through every fiber of your being, and especially through your thighs. You grasped his hair, those rebellious strands privileged only to be tousled by your fingers, while struggling to contain the torrent of emotions threatening to sweep you away. The coolness of the stone against your back was an anchor, the sole reminder that you still belonged to this world, intensifying the clandestine atmosphere of pleasure you both shared.

In the dimness of the old stairs, the world narrowed down to the haze around you and whispers. The flickers of light that seeped through played hide and seek among the forgotten corners, barely revealing Steve’s silhouette. His face, adorned with cute moles forming constellations, was hidden in the depths of your skirt, a mystery, an enigma defying reality with his presence. Despite the faint darkness surrounding you, your eyes had adapted enough to distinguish his, shining with a fierce passion, an uncontrollable flame consuming the air between you, making you tremble even more. Every stroke of his tongue, every suction, was a torment and a pleasure intertwined dragging you towards a forbidden ecstasy.

The echo of your moans intertwined with the gentle murmur of the wind, creating a symphony of desire in the air charged with anticipation. With each movement, each touch, the heat of your bodies intensified, merging into a whirlwind of burning sensations. One of your hands, trembling with excitement, clung firmly to the wrought iron railing, while your legs tensed involuntarily as Steve’s lips explored every nook of your intimacy. “Mhhm, right there, Stevie,” you whispered between gasping breaths, letting out a more intense moan as you felt the pressure of his mouth against your center of pleasure. The strength of your hands unconsciously squeezed his face between your thighs, plunging him even deeper into the vortex of your desire, while the essence of your excitement flooded his senses.

Steve’s grunts resonated in the space between your legs, causing his lips to vibrate slightly against your sensitive skin, sending waves of pleasure coursing through every fiber of your being. Every movement, every sigh, was a dance of shared ecstasy, leading you to the edge of the abyss of pleasure.

Moaning in response to every caress, every suction, you surrendered completely to the frenzy of the moment, feeling as if you were about to unleash heaven in an uncontrollable explosion of ecstasy.

A few seconds later, after a symphony of intense suctions and wet licks, you surrendered to the rush of pleasure and came in Steve’s mouth. He was kneeling in front of you as you leaned over him, your dripping pussy releasing your essence onto his eager lips. Steve welcomed your ecstasy with a smile radiating excitement, his eyes shining with shared passion, and his cock, of course, barely contained in his too-tight pants, scarcely visible but hinting at the unrestrained desire consuming him. Steve’s gaze, filled with satisfaction and lust, locked onto yours as he savored every drop of your essence as if it were the most exquisite nectar.

His lips, wet and eager, continued to explore your intimacy with a devotion that left you breathless, while his skilled tongue continued to provoke waves of pleasure that coursed through every fiber of your being.

You could feel the force of his desire pulsating against your skin, his eager hands seeking contact, craving more of you even in that moment of shared ecstasy. The sexual tension that had built up between you reached its peak, manifesting in the urgency of his movements and the desperate hunger of his lips against yours. But before you let him kiss you, still reeling, you gently pushed him away, looking him up and down with an expression of superiority, as you always did.

“Don’t think I’m gonna kiss you, screw you, or anything like that. I just wanted you to eat me out, nothing more. Don’t feel like doing anything else with you. Let your little girlfriend Nancy suck your dick. I’m out,” you said, adjusting your skirt, forgetting something but leaving as quickly as possible to avoid having to talk to him, as usual.

Little did you know, you had left your delicate lace thong there, forgotten alongside Steve, the masochist who was always lurking. Steve knew that you two no longer had the same connection as before, but that didn’t stop him from trying to get closer to you. This time, he decided to seize the opportunity, knowing he would never have the intimacy with you that he desired as in the old times.

Without wasting a moment, Steve picked up your thong soaked with your fluids and tucked it into the back pocket of his pants. With stealthy movements, he slinked towards the locker room bathrooms, with the sole intention of finding relief for his throbbing cock.

He sat cautiously on the toilet lid, closing the bathroom door with a firm twist of the key, thus ensuring his privacy. With a mix of palpable anxiety and desire, he prepared to indulge in solitary pleasure, with your image ever-present in his mind.

With trembling hands, he retrieved his wallet, a treasure he guarded jealously, and from it, he pulled out a photograph of you. In the image, you looked radiant, modeling one of his T-shirts, your delicate nipples barely outlined in the fabric. With a gaze fixed on your face, his fingers caressed the image with devotion, as if they could touch your skin through the paper.

In addition to the photo, he pulled out the thong you had previously forgotten, a garment that became a tangible symbol of your past encounters, as it had been a gift from you when you had been dating. Carefully, he wrapped his erection with the soft fabric, feeling the familiar texture and the echo of your presence in every fiber. The combination of the no longer so warm creamy fluid and the soft fabric triggered a wave of pleasure that immediately brought him to the brink of ecstasy. A slight moan escaped his lips as he surrendered to the frenzied rhythm of his own hand, immersing himself in a world of fantasies where only you occupied his mind.

“I’m sorry, Nancy…” he murmured with a choked voice, while his fingers explored the soft skin of his erection, sensitive and sore from the accumulated tension. His eyes were fixed on the photograph he held with reverence, your image shining before him.

Every detail of your face captivated him: your rosy, provocative lips; your pronounced eyelashes framing eyes full of mystery and seduction; your beautiful hair gracefully waving around your face. Everything about you delighted him, from the elegance of your gestures to the intensity of your gaze.

But despite his fascination, a feeling of resentment stirred within him. He hated how sometimes you could be so stubborn, so insensitive to his desires and needs. The tension between you grew with each encounter, fueled by your whims and his repressed frustration.

With a sigh laden with mixed emotions, he surrendered to solitary pleasure, each caress a blend of desire and desperation. Though he loved you madly, sometimes he wished you could understand what he felt, what he needed from you beyond appearances.

After reaching climax twice, his still labored breathing echoed in the silent locker room. A thin layer of sweat beaded his forehead, a testament to the intensity of his emotions released in those moments of solitary ecstasy. Small droplets of his essence escaped his body, lightly staining the locker room floor, marking the territory of his unrestrained passion.

With trembling hands, he adjusted his tight pants, still feeling the buzz of pleasure resonating through his body. The air was laden with the scent of desire, permeating the environment with the intensity of their intimate encounter.

With determination in each step, he headed towards his last class before lunch. Although his mind still buzzed with images of your face, his body was now infused with a sense of calm and satisfaction. He had released the accumulated tension, at least for a moment, and was ready to face the rest of the day with renewed energy.

━━ ✧♡✧ ━━ ✧♡✧ ━━ ✧♡✧ ━━

The rain pounded the pavement with a fury that seemed personal, each drop an accusation against the city asphalt. Amidst this storm, the Family Video store stood like a beacon for movie lovers, its flickering sign battling the darkness imposed by the whims of the weather.

Robin held the umbrella with a steady hand, protecting not only her own hair from the rain but also that of her companion in discussions and confidences, Steve. With his gaze fixed on the trunk of his car, Steve rummaged through forgotten tools and objects, desperately searching for the small lamp that would allow them to continue their work in the video store.

“How could you be into Kline’s chick, dude? She’s just as gross as her daddy, I don’t get it,” he said, his voice barely audible over the constant drumming of the rain. The question was not only a questioning of shared tastes but an echo of a deeper rivalry, one that extended beyond romantic preferences and touched the fiber of their friendship. “I still don’t get why you’re into the same girls as me, man,” he continued, his frustration growing with each word, as if the same drops falling from the sky fueled his discontent.

Robin, with a patience found only in those who have weathered countless storms, both meteorological and emotional, responded with a calm that contrasted with the agitation of the night. “I just have good taste, Steve.”

Finally, Steve’s fingers stumbled upon the object of his search. With a sigh of relief mingling with the dampness of the air, he grabbed the lamp and closed the trunk with a thud that resonated in the stillness of the night. Both were splattered with the treacherous drops that had accumulated their weight on top of the car, a small victory of the storm over their efforts. The dimness of the Family Video store enveloped Steve and Robin like a blanket, darkness interrupted only by the erratic flashes of lightning seeping through the windows. “Good taste? She was straight-up trouble, Rob,” he murmured, his voice echoing in the emptiness of the store. The shelves, normally full of life and color from the movie covers, now seemed threatening shadows in the darkness. “I went out with her, and I can tell you, it wasn’t a great experience, apart from the sex, of course,” he continued, his tone a mix of regret and disdain. As he closed the soaked umbrella, drops of water detached and joined the chorus of rain pounding outside. He placed the umbrella by the door, like a forgotten guardian, and shook his hair, trying to rid himself of the invading moisture. He pulled out a mini mirror, the surface reflecting a face marked by the tumultuous night. He checked his hair. With a sigh, he continued to the counter, where he deposited the small lamp, its light a promise of warmth in the cold that engulfed the place.

“You went out with that hottie?! I might start believing that whole thing about ugly dudes scoring the hottest girls…,” Robin joked, her laughter a flicker of light in the darkness, as ephemeral and bright as the lightning outside. She stepped aside, leaving space for Harrington, in a gesture of camaraderie, unable to give him a friendly punch on the arm.

The tension between Steve and Robin was palpable in the charged air of the Family Video store. “She wouldn’t even look twice at you… she’s super straight. I even think she was homophobic…” Harrington said, his voice tinged with a jealousy that seemed to drag shadows from the past, shadows of a high school era that both had left behind, or so they thought.

“Well, I’ll just turn her from phobic to homo, easy,” Robin retorted, her eyebrows raised in a playful challenge, a joke meant to lighten the mood but only served to bring Steve a flood of memories, flashbacks he’d rather keep buried.

“Ugh, don’t do that!” Steve complained, his patience wearing thin like the tape of an old VHS movie. Robin, feeling the weight of her friend’s irritation, let out an exasperated sigh.

“Well, I won’t breathe either if that bothers you too, for god’s sake…” she said, rolling her eyes in a theatrical expression of frustration before walking towards the back room.

Leaving he alone at the counter, the echo of her footsteps mingled with the buzz of burnt fuses and the murmur of rain against the roof. Steve stood there, in the dimness, his mind navigating the turbulent waters of his adolescence. He remembered you, with your fiery temper and defiant smile, a presence that had marked his youth and, despite the years and distance, still stirred up a whirlwind of emotions within him. It had been approximately four years since you went to Spain on exchange, four years that had done little to cool the memories Steve held of you. He didn’t want to admit it, but he missed your bad temper, and above all, that body of yours…

The days at the Family Video store passed with the slowness of a slow-motion movie, each moment stretching into infinity. Robin, increasingly immersed in Harrington’s past with that girl, couldn’t help but let the details surface in his mind. “Yes, I… did all that…” he confessed with a blush that didn’t need light to be perceived, speaking of secret encounters on the stairs, those moments stolen from time and curious eyes. “But please, I beg you not to tell Nancy! I’m trying to win her back but she doesn’t know anything about what happened when we were together…” he pleaded, his voice a whisper laden with urgency and fear. Robin’s expression, pale as the moon on a starless night, reflected the surprise and horror of realizing the presence looming behind them.

“Not know what?” asked a sweet voice, as familiar as the melody of a forgotten song. Nancy, with her friendly smile and a small wad of money in her hands, appeared like a figure from a dream, or perhaps a nightmare. “What? No, nothing!” he stammered, anxiety building up in his chest like clouds before a storm, desperately seeking Robin’s complicity but finding only the void of a situation slipping out of control.

The door of the store burst open with a bang, like the prelude to a dramatic act in a play. A girl, dressed in clothes where red and black stood out. Her tight leather pants, a torn red top, accompanied by a dark jacket showing signs of being well worn, culminating with the icing on the cake: a flamboyant, teased hair, typical of glam metal enthusiasts. She made her triumphant entrance. In her hands, a movie magazine, her finger marking a page like one points to a destination. “Hey, I changed my mind, I think I’d rather watch Satan’s Mistress, it has…” you began, but your voice trailed off the moment your eyes met Steve’s.

It was a gaze that crossed years of distance, a bridge laid over an abyss of time and memories. Your former partner in sex, passion, and toxic courtship.

The reunion was a whirlwind of emotions, a vortex that swept up the fragments of a past everyone had thought overcome.

Your voice echoed in the confined space of the video store, a reminder of its former sweetness now tinged with the roughness of tobacco. “Am I dreaming or is that you, Harrington?” The Viceroy hung on your lips, a stark contrast against the burgundy tone that adorned them. With a careless gesture, you dropped the magazine you held onto a shelf full of horror movie covers, a sanctuary for lovers of fear and tension. Your black heels struck the ground with determination, each step an announcement of your presence that filled the air with an almost musical cadence. You made your way to the counter, your imposing figure leaning against the collection of VHS and DVDs that decorated the place.

“Keith…” Steve’s voice was a murmur, his eyes scanning the woman standing before him. He wasn’t sure what to make of the change; the woman he knew had been replaced by someone new, someone who defied his understanding.

Robin, on the other hand, couldn’t hide her delight. The feminine arrogance that had characterized the girl in the past had pleased her, but this… this was something completely different. It was a transformation that invited both admiration and bewilderment. “Damn…” exclaimed Robin, not trying to conceal the surprise caused by your daring neckline.

The video store had become a stage for unexpected revelations. Steve, still recovering from the initial impact, found his voice to articulate a question that burned inside him. “W-When did you come back to town?!” His voice trembled, a reflection of the nerves that assaulted him as he evoked memories of a seemingly distant past.

“Not long ago,” you responded with a calmness that contrasted with Steve’s agitation. “My father was murdered two years ago, I don’t know if you remember. So now I’m here to spend the holidays at his house, here in Hawkins.” Each word was pronounced with a serenity that belied the tragedy of your story, while the cigarette smoke curled in the air, as if trying to escape the reality of your words. Your clothing, tight and revealing, seemed like a second skin, outlining every contour of your body with exaggerated precision. Robin, from her corner behind the counter, couldn’t look away. To her, you were like a celestial vision, a fallen rocker angel who had returned with stories of distant worlds.

Nancy had become a mere shadow in those moments. Her original intention had been simple: to rent a movie at Steve’s store, a perfect excuse to spend time with you, now that you had returned. But reality had twisted in a way she couldn’t comprehend. She understood nothing.

Harrington, with a nod of acknowledgment, found himself in a sea of uncertainty, the scene before him causing a growing discomfort. “I’m sorry…” he murmured, looking away towards the ground, a gesture revealing his unease.

“Don’t worry about it, these things happen,” you responded with a voice dripping with unwavering calmness, as you flicked the ash from your cigarette into the nearby ashtray. The act led you to approach the blonde girl, whose beauty was as evident as her friendly smile. Returning the smile, you noticed a glint of something undefinable in her eyes, as if you had ignited a spark of emotion within her. “Well, I guess I’ll head back to the car,” you announced, turning with an elegance that defied the gravity of your heels. “Grab whatever movie you want, Nans,” you said with a carefree tone, exiting the store and leaving behind a trail of perfume and mystery. Your steps were confident and graceful, each movement a testament to your ability to walk on those pillars of style as easily as others would walk in sneakers.

Nancy, observing the scene, felt the tension that had taken hold of Steve, his body rigid as if on the verge of breaking. Determined to ease the atmosphere, she approached him with a timid question. “Uh… do you have the movie she mentioned?” Her voice was a whisper, almost drowned out by uncertainty.

He, trapped in his own confusion, couldn’t recall the mentioned title, but Robin, with her ever-sharp attention, jumped to the rescue. “Satan’s Mistress! Yes! A horror movie from a few years back, based on a book, pretty good actually.” Her enthusiasm was palpable, her hands tracing arcs in the air as she spoke and moved with a clear purpose. She found the movie quickly, placed it on the counter, and scanned it, announcing the price to Nancy, who paid with a handful of small bills she held firmly.

Nancy was ready to bid farewell, to leave behind the video store and its memories, but something stopped her. She turned abruptly, as if a sudden idea had crossed her mind, a missing piece in the afternoon’s puzzle that needed to be placed.

Nancy’s proposal resonated in the video store like an invitation to leave the past behind and dive into new adventures. “She’s having a welcome party at her place, so she’ll invite old classmates and all that. Do you want to come?” Her voice was a mixture of enthusiasm and nervousness, aware of the surprise her announcement could cause.

Harrington, still entangled in the threads of the past, was about to decline the offer, his mouth opening to formulate an excuse. But before he could articulate a single word, Robin intervened with an energy that seemed to overflow the confines of the store. “Yes!” she exclaimed, her affirmation so loud and clear it seemed to fill every corner, even suspending the constant buzz of the fluorescent lights.

Surprised by Robin’s vehemence, Nancy gave an awkward smile, her cheeks taking on a rosy hue reflecting her embarrassment. Quickly, she shared the address and time of the party, words that hung in the air before she turned around and walked out of the video store, leaving behind a silence that draped over the place like a blanket.

The silence that had fallen over the video store was so thick it could almost be cut with a knife. The shelves filled with movies seemed to hold their breath, waiting for the next act of this unexpected human comedy.

“Steve?” Robin’s voice pierced the silence, her casual tone breaking the stillness like a stone dropped into a calm pond.

He, still lost in his thoughts, barely uttered a sound resembling an assent. “Mhhm?”

“I think I’ve wet myself,” declared Robin, with a calmness that contrasted with the nature of her announcement.

Steve couldn’t help but react. “Damn, Robin, you’re gross,” he exclaimed, his voice a mix of disgust and humor. It was an accusation spoken with the lightness of camaraderie, an acknowledgment of the peculiarity of their friendship that could withstand even the strangest of revelations.

…

The screech of Steve’s car brakes blended with the music emanating from the mayor’s old mansion, an echo of youth reverberating within the walls of a building now housing those who, just two years ago, were teenagers but were now venturing into adulthood. The mansion, with its flickering lights and aura of nostalgia, was a beacon for memories of a simpler time.

Robin, with the grace of someone who had shared countless adventures in that passenger seat, lowered the car mirror and examined her reflection. Her eyes lingered on every detail of her face, ensuring her makeup would withstand the night ahead. Her hair, tousled and free as always, framed her face with a naturalness that needed no adornment. The orange T-shirt she wore, snug and adorned with yellow stripes, seemed to capture the last light of dusk. The flared jeans, swaying with each movement, and the borrowed jacket, a temporary gift from her friend, completed her outfit with a harmony of colors that spoke of her carefree and vibrant personality.

Meanwhile, Steve remained motionless, his gaze fixed on the house looming before them. The mansion brought back memories of clandestine nights, shared laughter, and whispered secrets while climbing the ivy that reached to the window of their old room. Those memories enveloped him like a cool breeze, taking him back to a time when everything seemed possible. Dressed with the same nonchalance with which he faced life, he had made no effort to dress up. His clothes, casual yet stylish in their own way, reflected his attitude towards life: simple, straightforward, and uncomplicated.

The music from the mansion grew louder, as if calling the guests to immerse themselves in the celebration. Robin, giving one last glance at the mirror, smiled satisfied and closed the compartment with a click. Steve sighed, a sigh that contained years of stories and lived moments, and with a complicit smile towards Robin, stepped out of the car.

The song filling the air was a lesser-known classic, “Turn Up The Radio” by Autograph. With its energetic and catchy rhythm, the electric guitar resonated with chords that invited leaving troubles behind and plunging into the euphoria of the moment. The singer’s voice, with its raspy and passionate tone, sang about freedom and youthful rebellion, a perfect anthem for those seeking escape in music. In the front yard, the scene was a living collage of the era. Groups of friends gathered around an Ford Mustang, its doors wide open to share the music emanating from the stereo. Laughter and conversations mingled with the sound of beer cans being opened and the sizzle of a nearby grill where burgers and sausages were being cooked.

The blonde, with her eyes wide open, couldn’t take her eyes off those strangers who seemed to have stepped out of a metal music video. Her fascination with glam style had been born just hours before when she saw you enter the store with that star aura. Curiosity had seized her, and now, seeing you at the door of the house, that curiosity turned into admiration.

You and Nancy were immersed in a conversation, but your sixth sense for important arrivals made you look up just in time to see that duo approaching. An eyebrow raised in a gesture that mixed surprise and interest. Your hair, cut in layers with a precision that only the best stylists could achieve, cascaded around your face, each strand contributing to the impressive volume that seemed to defy gravity. Robin was speechless, her mouth slightly open in a mute expression of amazement. The moonlight reflected on your leopard-print pants, making the wild patterns come to life. The corset you wore, snug and enhancing your figure, was the centerpiece of an outfit that screamed confidence and rebellion. The girl was captivated, not only by your physical appearance but also by the energy you exuded, a mix of mystery and magnetism that irresistibly attracted her. Harrington, on the other hand, seemed overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment. With a sudden decision, he chose to withdraw from the scene, seeking refuge among familiar faces. He headed towards a group of former basketball teammates, greeting them with back slaps and knowing smiles. Meanwhile, Robin remained paralyzed, watching you with a mixture of admiration and a new awakening of her own style.

You watched as Steve walked away, leaving the girl alone in the midst of the party bustle. With a carefree gesture, you took the Marlboro resting behind your ear, which sported metallic hoops as witnesses to past rebellions. You lit the cigarette with the flame of a Zippo that gleamed under the starlight and began walking along the stone path, a path that evoked childhood memories and that your father had ordered to be built years ago when the mansion was still a home and not a museum of memories.

“How’s it going, blondie? Do I know you?” you asked with a confidence that seemed to emanate from your very essence, a certainty that charged the air with electricity. Robin, with her golden hair reflecting the neon lights, stood paralyzed, feeling a shiver running down her spine and erasing any other thought from her mind. The orange-haired girl who had captured her attention throughout her time in the band vanished from her consciousness, and even her own name seemed like a mystery.

“Uh-uh, I…” Robin stammered, struggling to find the words as a playful smile played on your lips, noticing her nervousness. You raised an eyebrow, a perfect arch that added emphasis to your playful expression at her discomfiture.

“I think we’ve never met…” you interrupted her attempt to reply, cutting through the air with a certainty that left little room for doubt. “I’d never forget a face like yours,” you concluded, your words hanging in the space between the two of you like a promise or a premonition. You looked her up and down, a scan that was not so much an evaluation as it was a recognition of her presence, her uniqueness. You exhaled the cigarette smoke, and it wafted through the air before dissipating in front of her face, an ephemeral veil that seemed to separate and yet unite two worlds.

Buckley blinked, an instinctive reaction to the smoke wafting through the air, and coughed slightly, a momentary interruption that brought her back to the present. A blush spread across her cheeks, a rosy hue that highlighted the concealed freckles and her eyes, which maintained an innate sweetness. “No, we’ve never met, or at least I don’t think so…” she said with a trembling voice, avoiding your gaze because she knew that if her eyes met yours, the words would be lost in the abyss of her nervousness.

You, with a smile that revealed amusement at her discomfiture, furrowed your brow and took another drag of your Marlboro, keeping the conversation going with an ease that contrasted with her uncertainty. “Uh? How’s that?” you asked amidst laughter, scanning the girl with a gaze that seemed to see beyond the surface.

“Well, we went to high school together, but you’re older than me…” Robin explained, her voice gaining a bit more firmness as the words flowed. You raised an eyebrow, a gesture that denoted both surprise and genuine interest.

“You’re still in high school?” you inquired, exhaling a new cloud of smoke that spiraled into the night sky.

Robin nodded, her gesture accompanied by a shadow of embarrassment at the age difference, and a palpable frustration at not being able to hold a normal conversation, to be that normal girl she wished to be at that moment. “Well, you don’t seem like it… you look great,” you said with a sideways smile, an expression that carried a mixture of compliment and challenge. You looked her up and down, not with judgment, but with an appreciation that made her feel seen, truly seen. You crossed your arms, and the corset you wore emitted a soft creak, a sound that seemed to be in tune with the tension and expectation hanging in the air. Robin, still recovering from the effect of the smoke and the surprise of your approach, found herself in a crossroads of emotions, between shyness and the excitement of being in the spotlight of your attention. She responded to the compliment with a charming shyness, her cheeks taking on a rosier hue as she tilted her head, allowing her short hair to brush against her skin. With a gentle and considerate gesture, you lifted her chin, encouraging her to meet your gaze. “You seem down… want a drink, …?” The pause hung in the air, an invitation for her to introduce herself.

With a frantic nod, as if just understanding the hint, she hurried to respond. “Robin. Robin Buckley. And yes, I’d love a drink. I’d love to,” she said with a voice that almost stumbled over itself, clearing her throat slightly to maintain composure. Your smile widened, and with a conspiratorial gesture, you took hold of your ex-boyfriend’s jacket sleeve and led Robin towards the house. As you walked, you shared your name and asked questions about her life, showing genuine interest in her and her story.

You made two strong drinks and led her to your backyard, a quiet and empty space that would soon be filled with your laughter and conversation. As the night wore on, and after several short trips in search of more alcohol, you both found yourselves laughing and teasing with a familiarity of old friends, which had never existed between you. “I would never have thought of that! She really does look like a Muppet,” you exclaimed, unable to contain the emphasis that alcohol liberated, sharing a genuine laugh with Robin.

The blonde’s confession hung in the night air, a revelation as unexpected as it was sincere. “I still don’t understand how I ended up liking her,” she said, the words escaping her lips before she could catch them and return them to the refuge of her thoughts. It was a moment of vulnerability, a window to her soul that she rarely allowed herself to show. Uncertainty tinged her confession; concern about revealing too much, about crossing an invisible line that could change the dynamics of the night. She didn’t want to talk about her sexuality, not because she was ashamed, but because she didn’t know yours and feared the possibility of making you uncomfortable.

Your response to Robin’s revelation was a hearty laugh, followed by a joke that added lightness to the moment. “I get you, I hooked up with one who looked like Sloth from The Goonies,” you said amidst laughter, referring to the iconic character from the adventure movie, released a year earlier.

Robin, surprised by your comment and the revelation it implied, couldn’t help but burst into explosive laughter, causing her to expel alcohol through her nose. Surprise and hilarity mingled in her reaction; she didn’t expect you to share her inclination, didn’t expect to find someone who resonated with her own experience. Anxiety and nervousness invaded her, a mix of excitement and fear at the possibility of not being alone in her feelings. The night had brought an unexpected chill, and the incident with the drink had left Robin with a wet shirt, making her tremble slightly. Noticing her discomfort, you offered a practical and kind solution. “Come on, I’ll take you to my room to change,” you suggested, guiding her through the party and into the warmth of the house.

Robin entered the room, her gaze roaming over the personal space you now shared. She sits onto the leopard-print quilt, her fingers sliding over the synthetic fur, soft and welcoming to the touch. The music, a constant and rhythmic pulse, filtered through the door, marking the beat of the night.

Meanwhile, you were immersed in the search for the perfect garment in your closet, a collection that spoke of past stories and concerts. You hummed the melody that seeped into the room, the influence of alcohol dissipating enough to allow you to focus on the task. You were looking for something that captured the essence of your new friendship without being overly flashy. Upon returning to the room, you found Robin absorbed in the photographs adorning your walls, images capturing moments of a previous version of yourself, one that contrasted with the person you were now. “What? Surprised? I looked better before, I know,” you said with a playful and ironic tone, depositing a Metallica T-shirt on the quilt and placing a hairdryer next to it, a silent invitation for Robin to dry her wet shirt.

“What?! No!” exclaimed Robin, turning with a mixture of surprise and embarrassment at being caught in her contemplation. “No, not at all… before you were very pretty, but I think… now you are more,” she articulated with difficulty, the words stumbling over each other as she clung to the furniture, seeking physical support for her emotional turmoil. The sincerity of her comment caught you by surprise, raising your eyebrows in astonishment. A smile spread across your lips, and an unfamiliar sensation, akin to butterflies fluttering in your stomach, emerged. It was an emotion you hadn’t experienced in a long time, a recognition that resonated with a part of you that had remained silent.

“Then, do you think I’m pretty, or straight up hot?” you ask, a playful smile dancing on your lips as you take measured steps toward Robin. The distance between you closes with each deliberate move, and though the question hangs lightly in the air, there’s a hint of genuine curiosity in your eyes.

Robin nods slowly, her gaze drifting from your eyes to linger on your lips, as if trying to read every nuance of your expression. “Well, let me tell you, I feel the same about you…” you say, your voice caressing each word, now just inches away from her. The tension between you is palpable, like a spark on the verge of igniting a flame. The air is charged with an electricity only proximity can generate. You can feel the warmth emanating from Robin, and every breath you take is infused with her essence. There’s an unspoken promise hanging in the air, an invitation to cross the invisible line that still separates your worlds.

“The same?” Robin asks, her tone a whisper barely daring to break the silence. Her hand rises, trembling yet determined, and brushes against the fabric of your rough corset as if it were the most delicate thing in the world. “You’re much more than pretty,” she confesses, and there’s weight in her words, a depth that goes beyond mere attraction.

“And how can I be sure you’re not lying to me? What if you’re just saying it to make me feel good?” you tease, puffing your cheeks slightly in a feigned pout that fails to hide the playful sparkle in your eyes. Robin’s hand, which had found its place over the curve of your corset, pauses for a moment, as if your words had planted the seed of doubt. But the smile playing on her lips reveals she’s enjoying the game as much as you are. Through the thick fabric, Robin’s fingers feel the steady rhythm of your breathing, each inhalation and exhalation like a wave crashing against the shore. The closeness between you diminishes even more, and though neither of you mentions it, both can feel the electricity of the moment, as tangible as the fabric between your fingers.

“Lie to you?” Robin replies, her voice low and filled with a warmth that seems to envelop you. “There’s no need for lies when the truth is more enticing.” The confidence in her tone is enough to dispel any shadow of uncertainty, and the way her thumb gently caresses the pattern of the corset is a promise in itself.

Involuntarily, or perhaps not so much, you find yourselves even closer, the distance between you measured not in centimeters, but in heartbeats.

“Why don’t you show me then?” The question leaves your lips with a challenging tone, but your eyes shine with a mix of anticipation and amusement. She, trapped between your body and the furniture, seems to search your gaze for some sign to guide her. The proximity is inevitable, and the tension that had been building now seems on the verge of overflowing.

The space feels charged, each shared breath adding more intensity to the moment. You can feel the slight tremor in Robin’s hands, a vibration that speaks of nervousness and anticipation. The room has been reduced to this small stage where only the two of you exist, and the silence that surrounds you is a silent witness to the connection being forged.

Robin swallows, her gesture almost imperceptible, but you catch it clearly. “Show you, huh?” she says with a voice that tries to sound confident but betrays a trace of vulnerability. “I don’t need words for that.” And with a movement that breaks the last barrier of distance, her lips seek yours in a kiss that promises to be as revealing as the whispered confessions. The contact is soft at first, almost tentative, but soon gains confidence and depth.

Feeling her lips against yours, a spark of excitement ignites within you, and a victorious smile spreads across your face, illuminating the moment with a sense of silent triumph. Each brush of her lips against yours is like a perfectly tuned melody, a symphony of sensations that completely envelops you. With each kiss, you eagerly explore the softness of her lips, savoring the sweetness of the shared moment. As it continues, her hands leave the furniture and find a new refuge on your bare shoulders, conveying a sense of connection and complicity that fills you with joy. This gesture encourages you to deepen the kiss, to fully surrender to the torrent of emotions flowing between you. With instinctive impulse, your hands grip her waist firmly, feeling the firmness of her body beneath your fingers, gently caressing her, lightly scratching with your nails. Determined to explore further, you smoothly slide your hands inside her jacket, where the still damp shirt rests, like a tangible echo of the moments shared that night. The cool, damp texture of the fabric beneath your fingers reminds you of the play of contrasts of the evening, where the warmth of the encounters mingled with the freshness of the unexpected.

As the intensity of the kiss grew, your senses sharpened, capturing every detail of the experience. You could feel the warmth of her breath mingling with yours, creating a dance of sensations that enveloped you completely. When her tongue joined yours in a playful and fiery exchange, the world around you seemed to fade away, leaving you only with the rapid pulse of shared passion. The grip on her waist tightened, as if you wanted to merge your bodies in an intimate, fiery embrace. As you pressed your pelvis against hers, you felt the electricity sparking between you, a current of desire flowing freely in the anticipation-filled air. With each touch, each contact, the tension between you reached new heights, leaving Robin trapped between your body and the furniture, with no escape possible. Her soft moans mixed with your own in a symphony of pleasure, every whisper, every sigh fueling the whirlwind of emotions consuming you both. Your hands eagerly explored every inch of her back, every curve, every contour, while their fingers clung to you with an urgency reflecting the unrestrained desire burning within them.

As Robin’s pleasure-filled moans echoed in the room, your own desire intensified, fueled by the sight of them writhing under your control. The need to feel her weight on the furniture consumed you, driving you to lift she and place her where you desired. With determination, you grasped one of her thighs firmly, letting your nails sink slightly into her skin as you lifted her body with one hand, making space on the furniture with the other.

With a swift gesture, you cleared the furniture of all figures and objects adorning its surface, leaving a clear space for Robin. When you finally seated her there, a sigh escaped her parted lips, momentarily interrupting the desire-laden silence enveloping you both. Breaking away from the fierce kiss, a strand of saliva stretched between your lips, a testament to the fervor with which you had surrendered to each other.

As your eyes settled just at the level of her breasts, obscured by the loose fabric of her shirt, your imagination soared, visualizing every curve and contour hidden beneath the cloth. Biting your lower lip eagerly, you seized their buttocks firmly, drawing her body towards yours with an irresistible force. A faint cry escaped Robin’s lips at the unexpected surge of passion, but her hands soon caressed your neck tenderly, desperately seeking your lips.

Playfully, you moved out of her reach, enjoying the seductive game unfolding between you both. Until, finally, you succumbed to the overwhelming desire and united your lips in a kiss even hotter and wetter than before. The taste of her mouth, the sensation of her breath mingling with yours, created a symphony of pleasure that enveloped you completely, making you forget everything but the warmth of the moment shared between you both.

Robin, determined to intensify the moment, decided to encircle you with her slender thighs, drawing your body closer to hers in a gesture filled with desire. You could feel the warmth emanating from her groin, colliding against your corset and eliciting a playful giggle that escaped between your lips, briefly separating you from the kiss. At that moment, Robin noticed the change in your expression and felt momentarily bewildered, thinking she might have done something wrong. She looked at you with a mixture of puzzlement and concern, but before she could articulate a word, you broke the tension with a daring joke.

“I think your shirt isn’t the only thing that got wet…” you said with a mischievous smile, quickly changing Robin’s expression. Without averting your gaze from hers, you slid two of your fingers down her lower thigh with a provocative gentleness, sending a shiver of anticipation through her body. The sexual tension between you intensified, turning the air around you into an electrifying blend of desire and playfulness. “See?” You decided to intensify the game and explore Robin’s groin more deeply, guided by the heat emanating from that area. With bold determination, you slid your fingers downward, finding the place where the heat was most intense. You plunged your fingers into the damp denim fabric, feeling the hot texture and the moisture seeping through it. You were mere millimeters away from her wet pussy, separated only by two thin layers of fabric that heightened the tension and anticipation between you.

For Robin, this experience was almost unfamiliar; she had experienced something similar only once before, so she felt like an inexperienced person in the middle of an ocean of unfamiliar sensations. She didn’t know how to react or what to do, but her breathing became more irregular, and her heart pounded with strength, reflecting the intensity of the moment and her own emerging desire. She opted to tightly close her eyes and squeeze your shoulder, which you found endearing.

Your eyes slid over every nuance of her expression, capturing each change in her features with surgical precision. Every time you increased the pressure of your caresses, you could feel Robin’s body responding with slight tremors, unmistakable signs of her excitement and craving for more. With each calculated touch, your fingers explored the unknown terrain of Robin’s groin, while your lips found refuge on the soft skin of her neck. The atmosphere was charged with palpable tension, as if every sigh were an echo of the passion growing between you.

Meanwhile, your other hand ventured over the smooth contour of her opposite thigh, tracing comforting circles on her sensitive skin. The combination of sensations immersed her in a whirlwind of pleasure and anticipation, caught between the desire to surrender completely and the caution of the unknown.

The slight spasms emanating from her body were like small navigation signals, indicators that you were touching the right places, the access points to her ecstasy. Each brush against that sensitive button was like striking a key on a piano, unleashing a symphony of moans and sighs that resonated in the room like a melody of shared pleasure.

As your lips explored every inch of her neck with devotion, your hands continued their captivating dance over the contours of her thighs, delicately caressing every curve and angle. Robin was completely tense, her body vibrating with anticipation and repressed desire, but her responses were a whispering echo of her longing for more. With a slightly husky voice, you ventured to ask her if she was enjoying it, letting the whisper of your words mingle with the whisper of silk in the air. Her nod was barely perceptible, drowned out by the tension consuming her completely. So, you decided to tempt her even more, offering her the promise of even greater pleasure if she allowed you. Between licks and kisses on her neck, you suggestively slid your words, letting each syllable resonate in the desire-filled air.

With a mischievous smile dancing on your lips, you relished the effect of your words on Robin, observing how her desperation was reflected in every gesture and tremor of her body. You tilted your head slightly, allowing your warm, moist breath to caress her ear, leaving a tantalizing trail of saliva with your hot, eager tongue.

Amidst warm giggles, you ventured to ask a question laden with anticipation and desire, whispering it into her ear with irresistible playfulness. “Have you ever been eaten out?” The tension in the air was palpable, and everything about Robin seemed to bristle at your words. It was evident that this was a new experience for her, an unknown territory that plunged her into a mixture of anxiety and excitement. With a barely perceptible nod of her head, she slowly shook her head, swallowing hard at the prospect of the unknown. In response to her answer, you raised an eyebrow, savoring the anticipation of what was to come. With a suggestive gesture, you licked your lips, fixing your gaze on hers with an intensity that was almost palpable. “Well, then I feel lucky to be the first…” you teased softly, letting out a playful giggle as you lowered your body. You found yourself on your knees in front of her, your face at the level of her crotch still covered by her flared pants. However, the moisture seeped through the denim fabric, revealing the intensity of the desire that consumed her. “Wow… I’ve never seen any girl get this wet for me…” you complimented with a smile, as you began to unbutton the buttons holding her pants, slowly lowering them with your gaze locked on hers.

She slowly raised her hips towards you, making the process easier with a trembling gesture of anticipation and effort.

You tossed Robin’s jeans somewhere in the room, leaving her standing before you in her underwear. She covered herself shyly, lightly squeezing her thighs as she avoided your direct gaze. A silly giggle escaped your lips when you noticed the Care Bears design on her panties, which didn’t go unnoticed by Robin. She felt embarrassed, and you could clearly perceive it in her expression. To reassure her, you emphasized that it was just a joke, trying to lighten the awkward moment and make her feel more comfortable with herself. With a determined yet gentle movement, you carefully parted Robin’s thighs, revealing her panties completely soaked. Every inch of fabric was saturated with moisture, from the waistband to the elastic on the legs. The transparency of the fabric exposed her intimacy, allowing you to see directly her pussy. The inner thighs were damp, and the core of the panties was a mixture of excitement and nervousness, creating an intimate scene charged with anticipation. Although Robin felt vulnerable in that moment, her trust in you was also evident, allowing you to access such a private place of her being. With a soft sigh, you moistened your lips before bringing them closer to her underwear, placing delicate and deep kisses on the soaked fabric. Each kiss elicited louder moans from Robin, whose breathing became irregular as her thighs lightly clenched against your face. You could feel the frantic beat of her heart resonating in the air, as if it were vibrating right down there. With a mischievous smile on your lips, you decided to give a playful lick through her panties, tasting the salty flavor of her excitement on your tongue. You looked up and met Robin’s eyes, whose expression mixed desperation and anticipation. One hand impatiently pushed her hair aside, while the other grasped her right thigh, unsure of what to do with it in that moment of intensity. The tension in the air was palpable, and you could see how her cheeks were slightly flushed with the embarrassment and excitement that engulfed her. With a determined movement, you pushed her panties aside, revealing her wet and eager pussy to your caresses. You began by softly licking her outer lips, enjoying the salty taste of her excitement as you prepared for the task ahead. You could feel the hand resting on her thigh inching closer to your hair, seeking something to hold onto to face the whirlwind of sensations that was about to come. You responded with a smile, ready to give Robin the pleasure she so eagerly craved. When you finally connected your mouth with her pussy, the deep moan that escaped the blonde’s lips resonated in the room. Your first lick was intense, exploring every corner of her sex with a fervor that left no doubt about your desire to satisfy her. Her hand, now gripping your hair, pressed you against her crotch, urging you to continue.

With closed eyes, you surrendered completely to the act, licking fiercely as if you were famished for her. Every encounter of your lips with her pleasure button caused a shiver through her body, accompanied by moans that echoed in the air and fueled your own excitement. You devoted yourself to playing with her, alternating between soft licks and delicate suctions, exploring every fold and crevice of her intimacy with a devotion that knew no bounds.

Robin moaned your name desperately as you devoted yourself to fulfilling each of her desires. With every skillful movement of your tongue, you took her beyond the limits of pleasure, bringing her closer to ecstasy with a mastery that only the deepest desire could bestow. You could feel her on the brink of orgasm, her body trembling with the anticipation of the impending release.

When she finally reached that climax, it was with a burst of pleasure that left her breathless, clinging tightly to your hair and pressing your face against her sex in a desperate embrace. Her confidence grew with each passing second, surrendering completely to pleasure and seeking to satisfy her own needs with a passion that left you breathless.

Your face was soaked with her fluids, every inch of your skin covered by the testimony of her pleasure. The sensation of her essence dripping down your skin added a new level of intensity to the experience, fueling the fire burning within you.

When you pulled away from her pussy after her orgasm, you looked at her with a passion that overflowed all known limits. You were more excited than ever, driven by the desire to satisfy your own needs and to push her to the limit once again.

You wiped your face with your arm and guided her to your bed with an impulse you couldn’t contain. With determination, you positioned yourself on top of her, ready to continue exploring the pleasures that only the encounter between two eager bodies could offer.

As you freed yourself from the garment covering your lower part, you revealed a leopard lace thong that immediately caught Robin’s attention. Her gaze lingered on the revelation of your lingerie, her eyes reflecting a mixture of surprise and fascination. The lack of words from Robin was evident, and you could feel the tension in the air as she processed the situation.

For her, this territory was completely new. She had never experienced anything beyond kisses and hugs, and her sexual education was limited to what she had seen and heard through occasional conversations with friends or what she had heard on television. The lack of practical experience and exposure to explicit material, such as magazines or porn videos, left her without a clear frame of reference to understand what was happening in that moment.

Faced with her confusion, you decided to take the lead, gently guiding her with your actions and words, creating a safe space where she could explore and discover new sensations without fear or pressure. Your intention was to make her feel comfortable and secure in this new territory, and your understanding and affectionate attitude reflected that desire.

With a compassionate smile on your lips, you made an effort to explain the situation clearly and calmly, aware of Robin’s inexperience in this unknown area. The conversation flowed naturally, despite the nerves present in the atmosphere.

Upon hearing your proposal, Robin showed curiosity mixed with a hint of disbelief, which made you chuckle. Her innocent questions reflected her unfamiliarity with the intimate world and made you smile at her candor.

With patience, you assured her that what they were about to do was pleasurable for both, despite the lack of a traditional element. The absence of a “cock” was not an obstacle, but rather an advantage in this scenario, as you pointed out with a mischievous smile as you removed the thong, revealing your own intimacy, which, although not as soaked as Robin’s, throbbed with anticipation.

You guided Robin gently, indicating how to position herself to carry out this new experience. Although she was initially bewildered, she trusted you and followed your instructions, letting herself be carried away by curiosity and the excitement of the moment.

When your soaked sexes brushed against each other, sending a shiver through her entire body, Robin experienced a wave of new and exciting sensations. The friction between your bodies caused an involuntary spasm in her hips, and she couldn’t resist the temptation to move in search of more pleasure. With each movement, she satisfied your need for stimulation, creating a symphony of shared pleasure that enveloped both of you in mutual ecstasy.

With a palpable urgency, you surrendered to the ecstasy of the moment, rubbing your sex against Robin’s with unrestrained passion. The need for mutual satisfaction drove your movements as you firmly grasped her thigh to keep her in place, ensuring that she could delight in this experience as much as you. Each strategic brush hit precisely the spot that unleashed waves of pleasure in Robin, bringing her to the brink of ecstasy time and time again. Shared moans and lascivious sounds filled the room, mingling with the shared moisture that flooded the air. The intensity of the moment prompted you to change position, placing yourself on top of Robin with the skill of years of experience. With fluid and precise movements, you moved over her pussy with a mastery that only desire and mutual connection could bestow.

As you shifted, Robin’s shirt gradually rode up, revealing her left breast swaying to the rhythm of your synchronized movements. Every movement was a dance of unbridled passion, as her golden hair cascaded over her face and onto the bed, adding a touch of sensuality to the scene. Together, you created a symphony of ecstasy and shared pleasure that enveloped you both in a bubble of happiness and satisfaction.

With each hip movement, the accumulated tension reached its peak until finally, in an explosion of shared ecstasy, you reached climax together. You might have taken a few seconds longer to reach the peak, but the synchrony of your orgasms was perfect, causing spasms and tremors in your intertwined bodies.

“Mhhmm… yes…” A torrent of overwhelming sensations engulfed you, plunging you into an ocean of pleasure and mutual satisfaction. Every muscle tensed and relaxed in harmony with the other, while moans of pleasure filled the room. It was as if time stood still in that moment of shared ecstasy, leaving only the whisper of your ragged breaths and the frenetic beating of your hearts.

After reaching climax, your bodies slowly relaxed, enveloped in a feeling of peace and fulfillment. The intimate connection you had shared left you with a sense of deep satisfaction, strengthening the bond between you and creating unforgettable memories of that unique and exciting experience.

After the shared climax, a cry of excitement escaped your lips, breaking the ecstasy of the moment and separating you from the mess you had caused. “Fuck!” Turning away from Robin, you lit a cigarette with a careless gesture, while smoke curled in the passion-filled air. “You should go with Steve, I’m off for a beer,” you said with the cigarette between your lips, not bothering to search for your underwear, just covering yourself with a skirt you found lying around.

Robin, exhausted and confused, didn’t know what to do as you walked away. She collapsed onto the bed, her body still vibrating with the intensity of the encounter, but her mind flooded with unanswered questions. Nearly 40 minutes later, Steve’s knocks echoed in the hallway, searching for Robin. “Robin?” his voice echoed from afar, opening and closing doors in his frantic search. Steve feared the worst as he approached the last remaining door: yours. Although he had never entered through that door before, always preferring the window, this time he fervently hoped that Robin wouldn’t be there.

“Robin!” he called out loudly, rousing her from her stupor. Steve opened the door with determination, only to be met with the shocking scene of his friend hastily getting dressed, shouting and closing her eyes with a guilty expression.

“Damn it, Robin, seriously?!” his voice was filled with frustration and concern as he watched the chaos before him, not fully understanding what he had just witnessed.

#fanfic #stranger things #stranger things 1 #stranger things 4 #lesbians #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem #steve harrington x you #steve harrington smut #smut #robin buckley #robin buckley x reader #robin buckley x female reader #robin buckley x you #oneshot #steve harrington oneshot #robin buckley oneshot

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beezlub · 1 year ago

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Requests Information; ♡ requests will be done on a first come, first serve basis! ♡ i do have a right to refuse any requests that i personally do not feel comfortable doing ♡ i can write OCs if commissioned, but any requests sent through my inbox will be X Reader to make them more applicable to readers alike

what i write; ♡ X Reader primarily ♡ romance, fluff, angst, friends-to-lovers, smut*. basically anything under the sun tbh ♡ *smut is a rare thing i will write for a request. i will write it for characters i know are canonically of-age. i will though, write nsfw headcanons of under 18 characters, but not the actual act itself (if that makes sense) ♡ AUs & canon ♡ M/M, M/F, F/F ♡ feel free to add in any details you'd want!! (ex; hogwarts legacy; fem reader, hufflepuff, song 'yellow' by coldplay, sebastian and reader go on their first date to hogsmeade and they end up dancing in the snow under the fairy lights in the plaza). make it as detailed as you want, or give me free reign lolol

what i will NOT write; ♡ heavy gore ♡ furry related stuff ♡ fandoms i am not currently in ♡ school papers

fandom list; ♡ Hogwarts Legacy - Sebastian Sallow, Ominis Gaunt, Garreth Weasley, Poppy Sweeting, Anne Sallow, Imelda Reyes, Amit Thakkar, Aesop Sharp ♡ Attack on Titan - Levi Ackerman, Eren Yeager, Armin Arlert, Mikasa Ackerman, Jean Kirschtein, Reiner Braun, Annie Leonhart, Hanji Zoe, Connie Springer, Pieck Finger, Sasha Braus, Erwin Smith ♡ My Hero Academia - Katsuki Bakugo, Izuku Midoriya, Shoto Todoroki, Hitoshi Shinsho, Ejiro Kirishima, Tamaki Amajiki ♡ Genshin Impact - Albedo, Alhaitham, Beidou, Cyno, Diluc, Zhongli, Jean, Kazuha, Ayaka, Ayato, Kaveh, Keqing, Lisa, Neuvillette, Ningguang, Ei, Childe, Tighnari, Traveler, Xiao, Yae ♡ Honkai Star Rail - Asta, Blade, Bronya, Dan Heng, March 7th, Gepard, Himeko, Jing Yuan, Kafka, Luka, Luocha, Natasha, Sampo, Seele, Trailblazer, Welt ♡ Stranger Things - Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington, Nancy Wheeler, Robin Buckley, Johnathan Byers ♡ Haikyuu!! - Daichi, Suga, Asahi, Nishinoya, Kageyama, Hinata, Tsukishima, Yamaguchi, Kuroo, Kenma, Oikawa, Issei, Iwazumi, Bokuto, Ushijima, Satori, Atsumu, Osamu ♡ Baulder's Gate 3 - Astarion, Lae'zel, Shadowheart, Gale, Halsin ♡ Stardew Valley - Abigale, Alex, Elliot, Emily, Haley, Leah, Maru, Penny, Sam, Sebastian, Shane ♡ Yellow shaded fandoms are the ones i'm active the most in at the moment! ♡ Listed are the characters I'd write anytime! If there isn't a character listed that you want, feel free to ask in your request! There is a minimal amount of characters from these fandoms that I won't write for lolol.

thank you for reading all of this! if you wanna request something, please do! i love writing for all of you and including all the little details you guys ask for. if you're interested, just go to my little asks/reqs box and type away to your heart's content!

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ridestomars · 2 years ago

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… but like a fairy reader with any of them would be funny. In my opinion Nancy would find it so cool but she wouldn’t be weird about it. Robin would ramble on and on about it and just go into like a lesbian panic if you showed her your wings. Steve would be funny about it and a little uneducated and compare you to like Tinkerbell. Eddie would like fawn over your wings and just want to touch them and call them pretty because he is actually so sweet and soft. … just my thoughts hehe 🤣😂👀😁🧚

this is absolutely perfect.

i feel like nancy would be the only one who's actually cool about the whole thing. like, she'd probably find it crazy at first (but would never show that to you, of course), so it would take a bit of getting used to but even then, she'd always treat you normally because you're her friend, after all. i also feel like she'd be the best to talk about human traditions or "technicalities" (if that makes sense), since she's the only one who actually has the patience to sit down with you to talk about those "boring" subjects like history. also, i definitely see her going shopping with fairy! and would spend the whole time encouraging you to try all kinds of styles, and then she'd teach you how to style your hair the way you like it and to do your makeup!

robin wants to know every little detail of your life, and i'm not even kidding. like, her idea of a perfect day with you is: you both hanging out in a quiet place and asking you about everything fairy-related (that she can think of). i feel like she would love to do little arts and crafts with you, like making rings out of twigs or nice colorful paintings. i picture robin as a cinephile, so i definitely see her taking you to the movies almost daily. or renting some cool movies for you to watch together on your sleepovers – that would vary a lot, like, she would go from a 40s hitchcock movie to revenge of the nerds in a second. and she'd also explain to you everything she knows about movies, and would even get her mom's old super 8 camera to record videos of you two together.

and poor stevie wouldn't have a clue of what's going on and would just roll with the punches, really. but the face he makes when you show him your wings for the first time was priceless; the type of memory that when it comes to mind just makes you giggle by yourself. but he would love to spend time with you, always asking the most senseless questions – that would often end up with nancy smacking him on the arm. but i feel like he would be your hawkins guide, showing you around town like a pro. it's like he's a walking map, almost, because he knows everything and everyone, even the most hidden parts of town... and he makes sure to show you everything.

eddie would be a bit intimidating at first, but he would warm up to you really quickly. and once you become friends, he's willing to show you everything music-related that you've been missing. because not only you would marathon mtv programs like crazy, but he would gift you records almost every week. if we're talking about my eddie au, then i just know that this boy would be so jealous of your friendship with the other three. like, he's so immature about it but it's just so cute :( because he says shit to you like "this is so unfair! i met you first! you should be spending time with me!", with those puppy dog eyes that just make you melt.

LIKES, REBLOGS AND FEEDBACK ARE APPRECIATED! main masterlist | navigation ── hey! wanna talk? leave me a message after the beep. currently accepting requests for steve, nancy and eddie.

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hellfireseddie · 2 years ago

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Someone tell me why Zane from Barbie a fairy secret looks like Steve Harrington.

This is the only gif I could find as evidence but it's DEFINITELY the hair.

It cannot just be me who see's this shit right???

A PRIME FUCKING EXAMPLE SEE LOOK AT THAT.

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ozzies-fizzy-froggy · 2 years ago

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Ain’t talkin’ ‘bout Love

summary: two of the bats’ fangs carried something other than venom. After an attack by a swarm of the Demobats, Eddie and Steve are acting… Different…

💜

warnings 18+: dom eddie, soft dom steve, steve x eddie x gn body inclusive reader, rough oral sex, p in v sex, light bondage, bossy eddie, double penetration, overstimulation, praise kink, oral sex, pussy drunk steve, unprotected sex, spit lube, aftercare, edging, they both cum in you :), but you're on the pill

💜

3,558 words, not proofread and my first fanfic, please leave suggestions! 💜

💜

You hadn’t realized just how much you had missed the small town of Hawkins. Being away for so long, you kind of forgot what it felt like to be in the “satanic panic” ridden town. It was almost exciting.

Being back in town to visit your Boyfriends after a long road trip was the perfect end to your dream adventure. The long drive had made the idea of crashing back home with your friends and family sound like absolute heaven.

You pull into the lot of Eddie’s RV and see no one in sight. You had assumed that at least Eddie would be home to greet you but apparently not. Stepping out of your car and closing the door, you lock the stubborn doors and head towards the slightly beat up trailer.

“Ed! You home?” You called, fully expecting to see the mop of brown curly hair pop up in the bedroom window or a faint voice to respond, but after a few seconds there was nothing. You looked around and didn’t even see the new hellfire van he had so proudly been boasting about.

You knock on the door and finally hear a sound, though it doesn’t sound like the long, heavy strides of Eddie or the quick, thoughtful strides of Steve. You listen closely and hear an approaching rustle from the inside of the trailer. You take a step back in precaution and wait, watching the door handle turn quickly.

“Surprise!” You gasp as the familiar faces of Robin and Nancy appear from inside the Munson trailer.

You smile and hug both of them, Nancy first then reaching behind her to hug Robin. You were surprised by the two but remembered that you had all agreed to share the space when you got back. After Uncle Vern had moved out of Hawkins, the trailer was Eddie’s property. Since then, the five of you had decided to become roommates.

“Oh it's so good to be back! I missed you two!” You said, Robin ruffling your hair as you walked inside.

Nancy grabbed your bags as you looked around. The trailer inside had practically transformed, fairy lights decorating the interior of the joint rooms, and a new wall was put in the middle of the trailer to create two rooms with the kitchen in the middle. The queen bed was crowded with pillows and some stuffed animals which were anniversary gifts between the couple.

“Your side is so cute!” You exclaimed, Robin sprawled on the bed, soaking in the new pleasant energy that covered the room.

“Thanks! We did it all today!” Nancy said with a smile, “Birdy did most of the heavy lifting” She winked at her partner.

Robin flexed her muscles, giving a joking kiss to the slightly toned arm. As Nancy took a seat next to Robin, the door burst open.

“What’s up party people?!” Eddie exclaimed, kicking the door open, “Wheeler, I didn’t know you drove a-”

The metalhead stopped mid-sentence as he laid eyes on you, his driven look twisted into the most excited smile you’d seen. You spread your arms, welcoming back the mop headed musician.

He dropped the two grocery bags he was holding and jumped into your arms. You both fell back, causing Robin and Nancy to jump up before you both went crashing onto the bed.

“I can’t believe you’re back!” He exclaimed, as he set a kiss on your left cheek and then your lips

Behind him in the doorway you saw Steve picking up the two grocery bags with a smile. He closed the door with his foot behind him and set the bags on the bed beside you and Eddie.

“Welcome home, y/n” He said with a grin, as he helped you and Eddie up. He grabbed both sides of your face and gave you a deep, longing kiss.

Your face illuminated with the sweet gesture that you wanted more of later. You hugged him tight, happy to finally be back home surrounded by your family.

Eddie sprung up quickly, interrupting your train of thought, he grabbed the bags from the bed and looked at each person in the room, excitedly.

“Who wants dinner?” He smirked, bouncing towards the kitchen. You watched as Robin and Nancy followed closely behind him.

You grabbed Steve’s hand, holding him close to you as you both followed the rest of the house towards the kitchen to cook.

💜

You all sat on Robin and Nancy’s bed as you took bites of the pasta that Eddie had successfully managed to scrape together this time.

Just as you were about to finish your food you heard the walkie-talkie on Nancy’s night stand fizzle and speak.

“Hey Fruity Five, Come in Fruity Five! We have a code red, over!” Dustin’s voice yelled over the speaker, causing the five of you to stop dead in your eating.

Nancy grabbed the walkie-talkie, “Where’s the code red, over?”

“Wheeler house! Code red at the Wheeler house! Get here Stat, over!” He sounded panicked.

You jumped up and grabbed your keys, nodding to the group, “We’re on our way now, Dustin! Just hold on, over!”

You all very quickly burst out of the trailer as you piled into your car. You floored it as soon as the engine fired up.

“You never have a slow day in the town of Hawkins, do you?” You muttered under your breath as you headed way above the speed limit towards the Wheeler household.

💜

You all spilled from the car and walked to the side door of the Wheeler house. As you all headed down the stairs, you noticed particles floating in the air. You had already felt the air around you grow stale but as soon as Eddie and Nancy saw the particles, the atmosphere felt suffocating.

“Finally! You’re here! Come on!” Will said as he appeared at the base of the stairs.

The group stood in the room, all eyes focused on the portal that had found its place nestled in Eleven’s old hideout.

“Why did you need us here? For that?” Steve asked, looking at Dustin with a raised brow, a sour look painted his face.

“Any time El tries to close it, something starts hissing and screaming. So we thought we’d call the best fighters in the group!” He said with a grin, a partial panic had tainted his expression.

Robin had Nancy sat down, Robin’s arms wrapped around the frozen body of her partner, “I don’t think Nance is doing any fighting..” She said, her tone laced with concern.

After the Vecna situation, anything related to the upside down sent Nancy into a spiral, even though every time she insisted that she would be fine. In the last year, Eddie, Nancy, Robin, and Steve had been dealing with random portals to the upside down opening.

Eddie and Steve nodded to each other as they each grabbed a baseball bat from the corner of the room. El looked at the two and took a deep breath as she extended her arm towards the portal and started to close it.

As soon as the portal started closing, a demobat wing slashed through the portal.

“Incoming!” Dustin yelled, causing Eddie and Steve to get into readied stances.

Two winged creatures burst through the portal at the same time, flying aggressively around the room. As one ran into different things, the other decided to dive bomb Steve.

“Die stupid bat!” Steve spat, swinging his baseball bat towards the demobat.

As he swung, the other bat regained its bearings and dove directly onto Steve’s back, sinking its teeth into his shoulder. Eddie knocked it off almost immediately and killed it.

“Fucking. Hell.” Steve swore through gritted teeth, “Eddie! Behind you!” He exclaimed immediately as a bat swooped down, biting Eddie’s arm before Steve grabbed it and killed it.

At that exact moment, El closed the portal, her nose bleeding. You rushed to Eddie and Steve looking over their wounds. Thankfully they weren’t bad but Robin brings over medical supplies to bandage them up.

“Never again, kid.” Eddie joked, his tone shaken but joking nonetheless.

Dustin hugged both Steve and Eddie first and then hugged you.

“Welcome back, y/n! We were going to throw you a surprise party but..” He gestured around the room, “Yknow..”

You ruffled his hair, “Thanks bud, never a rest in this town, huh?” You smiled softly at him.

"You're telling me." Max said from the top of the basement stairs with a grin.

She was sat in a wheelchair, one hand on the door handle, the other laid limp in her lap. After her last Vecna adventure she was left unable to walk, but thankfully her sight and speech were untouched.

"Hey, Madmax." You smiled up at the redhead, "Long time no see!"

You all made your way upstairs, some busted and bruised, but together nonetheless.

💜

On the way home, Nancy and Robin decided to have you drop them off at the The Hawk for the showing of My Neighbor Totoro to help calm Nancy's nerves. After you dropped them off, an unfamiliar silence fell over the car.

"We aren't too far from the trailer, we'll get you both home and rested in no time, alright?" You reassured your partners who appeared to be in some sort of daze.

Eddie nodded, sitting in the backseat with Steve slouched to lean on his shoulder. His eyes were locked on the rear view mirror, forcing eye contact whenever you looked back at them.

"Are you alright?" You asked hesitantly, not fully understanding why he was so fixated.

Your words seemed to have shaken him from his trance, "Oh, what? Me? Oh yeah, I'm alright. Just.. Could we roll down the windows? It's… hot in here." The last sentence had sounded more like a question than a statement as though he wasn't sure if he was correct or not.

You watched as he pushed Steve off of him and tugged at his own collar. Steve looked at him, sweat beaded on his forehead, but it wasn't hot. In the fall air it was actually fairly chilly, but you rolled the windows down anyways, much to both of their relief.

As you pulled into the driveway, Eddie and Steve both bolted inside. You got out, locked the car and followed after them, worried. As you entered, you saw that the door to your portion of the trailer was wide open.

"Hey!~" Eddie called from the room, his tone sounded different than the discomfort in the car.

You followed the sound of the voice to your room and as you rounded the corner you immediately felt your face flush.

Eddie and Steve were sitting there shirtless, Steve staring at Eddie. Eddie had his belt undone and was already hanging on for dear life on his hips. Your eyes had followed his torso to his happy trail, which caused butterflies to erupt in your stomach and lower.

"What's going on?" You asked, your voice made Steve turn towards you. The two sets of eyes made you feel like you were going to melt in place.

Eddie motioned for you to join the two of them on the bed and you happily obliged. You sat on the bed between them and felt the heat radiating from their bodies combined.

"I think that the bat's venom… did something to us, sweetheart." Eddie said, his hand fell onto your thigh almost immediately, his thumb rubbed in a slow pattern.

Steve's breath shook on your left, "It's really hot in here… you're really hot…" He practically whispered as he unzipped his pants.

Eddie's hand slipped under your shirt, running his hand over your chest. He kissed the side of your neck, letting his tongue slip between his lips to meet the skin at the crook of your neck. You felt tiny bites as he got more and more excited.

You watched Steve stand up, now completely naked in front of you, already hard. He looked at Eddie, his eyes almost asking for permission. Eddie glanced towards him and gave him a soft nod before resuming on marking your neck. Steve's gaze landed on you, a lustful drive clouded his usually smiling face. He approached you, his dick swayed as he walked.

"Please baby, help me with whatever those bats did to us.." He smirked, his words rolled from his mouth in a sultry tone.

You felt his hand on the back of your head, his firm grip raising the heat your body felt. You opened your mouth, your hot breath meeting his tip. You watched as his eyes rolled back and he jerked his hips forward in response, the ache for touch killing him. He pulled your head towards him, sliding his dick into your mouth.

Eddie smirked against your neck as you're pulled away to service Steve. Eddie moved his hand down, unzipping your pants and getting rid of them. He moved his hand back to your pussy, lightly letting his fingers explore your sensitive parts. Your legs twitched, feeling the butterflies drop down between your legs. You let out a moan, a vibration warming Steve.

"Fuck." Steve cursed under his breath.

Eddie looked up at Steve, a smirk on his face, "Come on big boy, is that all you've got? Our baby here deserves a proper welcome home, don't you think?" He cooed

Steve huffed as he pulled your head forward, forcing himself down your throat. His grunts and soft moans filled the room, a hungry insatiable drive caused him to practically hump your head.

As you pleased Steve you felt a sudden change in Eddie's breathing on your neck. You shift your gaze momentarily to the metalhead and see that he had his dick out. His eyes were locked on you and Steve as he slowly stroked his dick. He was already hard just at the sight of his partners.

Steve pulled out of your mouth, his dick twitched with his already close orgasm. He looked at Eddie, almost as though he was asking for approval. Eddie nodded to him as he stood up. The two of them stood in front of you, hard and inhumanely horny. Steve almost looked uncomfortable without your mouth around his dick. Suddenly, Eddie laid you down, your back touching the cool mattress in the steamy room. Eddie looked at Steve and motioned towards you, which sent Steve immediately between your legs. You felt his unnaturally hot breath tickling your clit. As you went to go grab the back of his head, Eddie stopped you.

He crawled up beside you, his lips meeting your ear, grabbing your hands and pushing them up above your head, "Tut tut, not so fast, angel… We may need to restrain you." He reached for his belt and cuffs, cuffing you and tying them to the bed, restraining your movement.

You felt Steve's tongue slip between his lips and lightly brush your clit which caused you to buck your hips in response. He looked up at Eddie who stared at him for a moment, tilting his head. Then as though he had given Steve a mental countdown he nodded and you felt Steve's mouth crash against your sex. It was a white flash of ecstasy as you felt him sucking on your clit, his tongue swirling around it. Quickly he moved down to your opening, shoving his tongue in as far as it would go, eating as though he was starved. Eddie watched, touching himself again, his dick twitching. You ground down on Steve's face, an overwhelming sense of pleasure flooding your body. You felt your back arch as Eddie's free hand explored your chest and made its way down, exploring any of your curves and dips.

"Oh, Steve…" You moaned, the feeling of the two boys on you overwhelming any and every part of your brain.

Steve pulled away, a string of your sex stretching from his tongue to your soaked pussy. He looked almost hypnotised, his breath causing his chest to heave with every lustful sigh. He kissed your clit before you watched Steve get up, his dick now waiting at your entrance. He had a possessive look in his eye, a hunger you had never seen from him. He slowly eased the tip in as a moan escaped from his mouth. Almost immediately you watch as Eddie stood up, towering over the brunette. He grabbed Steve's chin which made Steve pull out and move onto the bed. Eddie kneeled in front of you, replacing the empty space where Steve had been with his own tip. He let out a grunt as you feel his dick throbbing already.

"Steve." He said, his tone full of lust, "Be a good boy and watch for me, alright?"

Steve nodded, touching himself to the musician's voice. Suddenly, you felt Eddie spit down onto your combined heat. He grabbed your hips, shifting his gaze from Steve to you as he slowly started a rhythm. He started slow, introducing you to the feeling of his dick. He was roughly 8" but he was fairly thick, from multiple rounds in the past you had figured out that he was perfect.

You squirmed a bit, still confined to your binds that made it impossible to grip onto something. Eddie's pace picked up as though he was overpowered by some otherworldly being. You felt him burying himself deep inside you, the sounds from Steve making everyone aware of his jealousy. Eddie chuckled as he continued to plow his way into you, making sure to over-express the cloud nine he was on. Suddenly you arched your back, your moans filling the room and causing Steve to grunt, precum dripping from his tip. You felt as Eddie started hitting one spot deep inside that felt unexplainable.

"There's the ticket." He growled as he picked up the pace again, this time abusing this spot.

The sounds that came from your mouth had Steve clawing at the bed. The room felt like it was spinning, the pure ecstasy of him so deep inside of you made your moans fill the room.

"Eddie, I'm gonna..-" You moan to him, feeling yourself get more and more wet as he gets faster.

Eddie pulls out and cums on your stomach, his hips jerking forward with his climax. He lets out his held breath with a grunt as he finishes cumming.

"Not so fast, dearest." He cooed, moving to your side as your orgasm starts to dwindle.

He nodded his head to Steve who immediately hopped up, his dick wet with precum. He stood between your legs, his dick ready at your entrance, but he looked at Eddie for his command.

"Go on." Eddie smirked with a nod.

You felt Steve's hips thrust forward almost as though he was spring loaded. He enters you with no care for your sensitive pussy, only for his unsatisfied ravaging lust. As your moans filled the room, you feel him start to pick up the pace as he slammed into you with reckless abandon. Eddie leaned down to kiss you, this time kissing your lips before trailing hickies down your stomach and side.

You suddenly felt a rising heat in your abdomen, a wild spreading fire causing you to let out a moan that made Steve plunge into you. As Steve's grunts grew louder, Eddie lifted you up from underneath. He slid himself under you, his abs pressed against your back. He nodded to Steve as you feel Eddie enter you as well. The feeling of the two boys made the rising heat in you almost triple.

The two lust driven men drilled into you, their balls slapping against you as their pace never waved. You felt Eddie's hot breath tickling your neck again though this time it was mixed with growls and almost whimpers as he neared his second orgasm. You felt as Steve started to lose control, his pace became more strict, his breath became heaves as he helplessly fucked you with his full length.

"Eddie…" He whimpered, his orgasm sending his brain into a teetering spiral, "Please…"

"Do it, big boy." You heard the metalhead demand beneath you as he shoved himself in you deep.

Both of the boys came at the same time, both tensing. You heard harsh grunts as Eddie emptied his second load into you and to contrast, you heard Steve's little whimpers and moans as they spilled from his mouth. You moaned loudly as you tightened around the two dicks that filled you. Your back arched as the combined orgasm of the three of you caused you to feel as though you were breaking. You pulled against your binds as the orgasm rocked you, you felt as though every nerve was being electrocuted. The two boys huffed as they both bucked, releasing the last bit of their joined orgasm.

Steve collapsed onto you, panting as he kept himself hovered above the two of you, "Holy shit…"

Eddie's dick popped out of you as he slowly lifted you up. He cuddled you close, wrapping you three in a soft blanket. Steve moved under you, still having himself buried inside of you to cool down.

"Such a good pet.. You took us so well." Eddie cooed, "Welcome home."

"Welcome... Back... To you too.." You murmured as you buried your face in Steve's chest.

"Glad to be back." Steve responded with a soft smile, Eddie making a sound in agreement.

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rosaline-black · 2 years ago

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AAAH LET ME THINK LET ME THINK

can we have eddie beings jealous of reader with steve? Like they're together but he feels insecure 'cause r and steve are really close and they know each other longer, like steve knows her better and eddie feels like a bad bf (BUT HE'S NOT 😩), also more angst with eddie finding out that steve and r had a thing in the past 🤭🤭 (all ends well of course)

I understand if you don't want to write this one, it's a clichê lmao

Love ya!

ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴇꜱᴇ ᴛʜɪɴɢꜱ - ᴇᴅᴅɪᴇ ᴍᴜɴꜱᴏɴ

Category: Eddie Munson X Fem!Reader

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: Eddie hating himself. Shameless fluff as always :)

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

His hand being on the small of your back shouldn't bother Eddie. You've known Steve a lot longer than you've known him, growing up beside one another. The both of you were each other's first friends in elementary school, first prom date in middle school and even graduated alongside each other. You were family, not in any way romantic. Well, that's at least what Eddie kept repeating in his head.

Steve Harrington was perfect for you in theory. He knew the most about you, your family adored him, and he had that easy-going thing about him chicks seemed to dig. Yet you ended up with Eddie.

He knew you loved him, everything about you told him that you did. Yet Eddie couldn't help but feel guilt with every sweet nothing you whispered. Did he deserve you? The prettiest girl in all of Hawkins ended up with the big bad wolf. It was something of a Grimm fairy tale to the towns folk. The princess being stolen away by the evil thug. Was Steve supposed to be your knight in shining armour? You were the sun and Eddie was the thunderstorm people duck and cover from.

"Dude they're just friends chill... you're clenching that can of beer so hard it's gonna explode..."

Henderson managed to pull Eddie from his self-pitying reverie, finally being present at Mike Wheeler's birthday party. His eyes went back to you and he noticed you had now flitted away from Steve, making your rounds towards Nancy and Jonathan who were perched in the adjacent corner of the Wheeler's living room. His relief was only followed by more guilt.

"I know Henderson..." Eddie spat, the crease in his brow proving he still couldn't throw his mind out of that petty jealous space.

"C'mon Eddie cheer up... why don't you go grab your princess... she just finished up with Nancy..."

Ever the schemer Eddie simply rolled his eyes at Dustin's poor attempt at pulling the two of you together. Before his jealous mind could sulk, Eddie forced himself to his feet making a beeline towards the girl who had turned his life upside down in all the best ways. Not in the creepy alien way.

His large hands splayed along your waist before you could turn around. That resigned sigh of relaxation left your lips and just for a moment, Eddie felt as though he had been the one to grant you safety. He could be your solace.

“Hey, sweetheart... busy being a social butterfly huh?"

You swivelled in his arms so you could catch a glimpse of his sweet face "You know it... Steve told me the funniest story about this guy coming into family video and asking if they sold adult movies... I mean how wild is that?"

Eddie just managed to hide the grimace that crossed his face at the mention of Harrington. He finally catches you alone and that's the first thing you say. He hates how jealous he sounds, but he just can't help it. Suddenly Eddie feels like the beast again, the freak everyone would throw tomatoes at as he remained stuck in the stocks. Meanwhile, the princess gets whisked away by the prince with the unusually high hair and-

"Earth to Eddie? Is anyone in there... you looked far away..."

So caught up in his neverendingly bleak thoughts, Eddie failed to spot you clicking your fingers in front of his face.

"Sorry yeah, I'm just... thinking about the next campaign..."

"Oooo very exciting wanna tell me about it?"

Eddie shakes his head before burying his head in your neck and basking in your scent. Who knew how long he would get to do this until you finally came to your senses?

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The next time Eddie felt unnecessarily jealous of Steve Harrington, the three of you and Robin sat in a booth at Bob's diner. Various desserts and portions of fries lay across the table, Eddie's arm was around your shoulder and the conversation was flowing nicely. That was until the topic of milkshakes came up.

"Strawberry milkshake on me sweetheart?"

"Oh she doesn't like strawberry..." Steve mentions it so casually, to anyone else they would think you were a couple. Eddies fist clenches.

"You don't?"

His eyes meet yours and you look up oblivious to the way his heart sinks at this menial information. He was your boyfriend. He should know all the little fine details about you, including what your favourite milkshake flavour is.

"I prefer vanilla... but I'd share a strawberry one with you..." Your eyes practically love hearts as you press a gentle kiss to eddies nose. Both of you ignore Robin's fake puking noises.

As much as your loving eyes are singing to his soul, swaying him to give into your adoration, that inkling of doubt sings even louder. Pulling from you, eddies eyes shoot away "I'll go grab you a vanilla one..."

His voice had never been so quiet. This time you notice.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The third time jealousy overruns Eddies better judgment, the both of you are sprawled out on his sofa. His head is in your lap, and your fingers are nicking all individual curls, unravelling and divining them. You're mainly using the excuse to just touch him since recently he had been pulling away.

You thought maybe you'd been imagining things at the party when he pouted on the car journey home, and when at the diner he shut down after the milkshake debacle. Maybe he was just tired? But you were clearly wrong in your assumptions.

Ever since that day Eddie seemed busier. Always preparing for a hellfire meeting or having some unexpected deal he had to run to, usually resulting in your plans getting postponed. Hell, today you'd practically had to beg to get him to spend an afternoon with you. It was starting to hurt.

It was only when you mentioned Steve while playing with his hair did everything sort of click in your brain. Was he... jealous? He physically recoiled just at the mention of your best friend's name.

"What's that face for?"

Eddie sat himself up turning to you but refusing to meet your eye. That smile he reserved solely for lying spread across his face and he spoke "What face?"

"You looked about ready to puke when I mentioned Steve, is something wrong?"

At this point Eddie had completely removed himself from the sofa, getting to his feet and turning his back to you. You wanted to cry. The both of you allowed silence to steam up the room, neither brave enough to speak. You volunteered.

"Have I done something wrong? Please, Eddie... I can feel you pulling away..."

"I'm not..." he noticed how his voice raised and he turned to you, hating how your brows were scrunched together "I'm not pulling away sweetheart I promise..."

To you, this wasn't a good enough answer. Eddie was an awful liar, his mouth was curved and his eyes were looking at you but not really looking at you.

"You've been avoiding plans for a couple of weeks now... I just want to know what I did so I can fix it..." Your hand grabbed his "Please..."

He hated how you pleaded. He was such a shit boyfriend he made you resort to begging. He always promised himself to treat you incredibly, so stuck in his own self-pitying he failed to do so. You did always say honesty was the most important thing to you, he had to come clean even if it did make him feel like an idiot.

"I... you should be with Steve..."

That didn't come out exactly how he planned. However, giggles tumbling from your lips were not expected. You continued laughing until you must have caught sight of eddies crestfallen expression.

"Wait you're not joking? Eddie, you realise Steve is like my brother right?"

Now he just felt dumb.

"Yes... yes, I know but he knows everything about you... your favourite childhood cartoon... your first kiss... and your stupid favourite milkshake flavour... I... shit I'm an idiot..."

In an instant you were by his side, hands holding his shoulders as you forced eye contact.

"You're not an idiot... don't... don't do that self-hating stuff Eds... look can I tell you something?"

Eddie perked up like a puppy, his forehead coming to rest upon your own. Basking in each other's warm breath. He only nodded weakly in response.

"In middle school, I remember seeing this kid stood on top of one of the swings... some other kid had bet him he couldn't swing stood up... and you know what he did..." Eddie could only smile "He swung stood up while reciting the entirety of evening star by Judas Priest like it was a fucking folk tale..."

Your voice was but a whisper, your fingertips tickling the sides of his neck.

"I knew then... like right then that that boy was the one I wanted to be with... and do ya know who that was?"

"Me..."

"Yes, you..." your lips found each other and his large hands found the base of your hips "Eddie... I've never felt the feelings I have for you... for anyone else ever... so I don't care if Steve knows all this crap about me... I'll spend a lifetime telling you those things... and a lifetime learning the same about you..."

Eddie didn't cry often. In fact, he didn't really cry ever, unless he was super high. But right now, shit, he could have sobbed into your shoulder. He'd never known someone to talk to him like you did, with pure unabashed adoration. And for the first time in his life, he wasn't going to run back into the shade that was the freak status society had plastered all over him. He was going to bask in your sun.

"I'd like that..."

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson #stranger things 4 #platonic!steve harrington x reader #Steve harrington #robin buckley #stranger things

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celestial-grls · 2 years ago

Text

Paper Purposes / Robin Buckley x Reader

Summary: You’re the managing editor of the school newspaper. Robin joins as a fill-in photographer for the newspaper. As a result, there are a lot of bad jokes, a newfound fear of darkrooms, the possibility of some fairy photography, and cheesy fries. [6.0k]

Warnings: School newspaper editor!reader, photographer!Robin, a slow burn from strangers to acquaintances to friends to lovers (eventually? Maybe in the future?), r and robin are both a little shy but show it in different ways, fluff, mutual pining, etc. Also a tiny bit is written in Robin’s POV

A/N: I hope you guys like this! I also turned on anons now, so feel free to send me any requests, your thoughts etc. There’s a 'That 70s Show' reference in here, PLEASE let me know if you catch it

Nancy Wheeler runs the Hawkins High school newspaper with an iron fist. Some of the sophomores who she assigns to write puff pieces call her ‘Queen Stalin’ when she isn’t around to hear them. The school paper only gets one room in the entire school to do all of the typing, printing, arranging of the spread, and holding meetings. You’ve known Nancy since last summer when you met at an internship for The Hawkins Post. You two quickly became friends over the ancient Mr. Coffee machine and sweated in your only pair of stockings while doing sandwich runs together. Once she had a lead for the Mrs. Driscoll story, she needed someone to cover for her to lessen any suspicion. The rest is history.

It’s the first of the month, so everyone waits for her to delegate assignments for the next issue. They’re all sitting at the long table with Nancy at the head, you in the seat next to her. She starts, “Okay. We have a big month ahead and a lot to cover. Y/N, you’ll cover the student council elections and the upcoming pep rally.” She looks down at her notebook and lists off who’s covering what. You start writing the dates of your assigned topics when the door opens and someone shoves through.

“...Hi. Sorry,” Robin Buckley apologetically moves through and searches for somewhere to sit.

“It’s fine, Robin. Just going through this month’s assignments.” Nancy’s a little ruffled but after Robin finds a seat she picks up where she left off. You know Robin. Well, ‘know’ is generous. You’re aware she’s in your grade and in band and that somehow she and Nancy know each other, but she’s never been a part of the paper. She’s doing her best to quietly take out something to write with, but it’s pointless because Nancy hasn’t assigned her anything yet.

“Alright, that leaves the cover story for me and…uh Robin, just stay for a minute with me and Y/N. That’s it for today’s meeting.” There’s the sound of papers shuffling, backpacks being picked up, and some sophomores huffing about their assignments until the room is cleared. You look at Robin and wonder what she’s doing here if Nancy hasn’t assigned her anything to write.

“Any updates on Fred?” You ask Nancy. He hasn’t been able to pick up anything heavier than a fork after breaking his arm photographing a football game. It’s safe to say he will no longer cover the sports section.

“Um, he’ll be gone for a little while,” Nancy sighs, “But the doctors say once the bone is set he’ll be back in about a month.”

“Yikes,” Robin grimaces.

“Yeah. Yikes,” Nancy looks between you and Robin, “Robin’s filling in for Fred until then. I don’t have as much time as I wish I did to introduce her to everything so she’ll be with you while you write.”

“As my writing partner?” You ask for clarification, looking at Robin and examining her face for any displeasure with being paired with you. She’s biting the inside of her cheek and tugging on her jacket sleeve. Maybe she’s nervous, but hopefully not upset about being paired with you.

“As a photographer. You’re the only other person with access to the darkroom and I’m swamped with college apps…” Nancy glances at her watch “Speaking of which, I have to take Mike home and start on my Emerson application but I’ll check in with you guys in a week.” That leaves just you and Robin. The room feels so much bigger without anyone in there, and you get to really look at Robin. She’s tall, taller than most of the girls in your grade. She’s also un-permed and un-hairsprayed, with dark blonde hair that comes to her chin. Even if she did make more of an effort to look like the other girls, it would fail. She sticks out a little regardless. When she clears her throat, it snaps you out of your assessment of her.

“So…I-I’m not sure how this works. I was sort of expecting a very detailed instruction manual written by Nancy herself,” She quickly realizes it might’ve come off like she didn’t want to work with you so she backtracks, “Not that I’m upset or, um annoyed or anything. With working with you, I mean. Sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

There’s this look on her face like she can’t get enough air in her lungs and you know she didn’t mean anything by it so you stop her before she talks herself into a deeper hole, “Robin, it’s okay. I know what you meant.” She still doesn’t look convinced. “Nancy actually made sure I wrote the instruction manual on my arm so you could read off of it. We’re trying to use less paper.” Maybe if I tell a joke she’ll be able to take a full breath. Even if it isn’t a funny one.

Something loosens in her face, a tiny deflating in her shoulders. She even breathes out a laugh. “Even the best journalists have to cut costs somehow.” She actually replied to your joke with her own, a small victory. You rip a piece of paper from your notebook and write ‘Room 122. Wear sneakers’ and hand it to her. “That’s the darkroom number. The camera’ll be in there and anything else we might need…”

She takes it from you. Your fingertips brush hers for half a second, hardly noticeable if you weren't so hyperaware of everything right now. “Wear sneakers?” She questions.

“We’ll be doing a lot of walking.” You answer. “We can get started tomorrow after school. If that’s fine with you, of course.”

“Uh, yeah,” She bites the inside of her cheek again, “I’ll see you then.”

Robin's POV

The uncertainty doesn’t even let her bike all the way home before it creeps in. Did I have to do the paper? Should I have just joined chess club? The questions bounce around her brain like a broken pinball machine. God, what if I break my arm taking pictures like Fred did? Or worse, take photos and not realize my thumb was taking up half the frame? It’s junior year and may be too late for trying anything new. But the fast-approaching future of life outside of Hawkins is demanding and if she had something other than three years of marching band and one summer job scooping ice cream under her belt, she’d feel better about her college applications. Except that the thought of spending the next month on the school paper (which she knew next to nothing about), seems to be having the opposite effect. Even when she flops down on her bed, face buried as far into the pillow as she can get, that feeling she got in the newsroom comes back. Like she can’t get enough air into her lungs. She’s trying to distract herself from the feeling that she’s in over her head. She thinks back to the joke you made earlier ‘We’re trying to use less paper.’ Robin did know you. Well, ‘know’ would be generous. She knew you were in the same grade, that you’ve always written for the school paper, and that you know Nancy from the summer internship you both did. But she’s only spent five minutes alone with you. There’s a whole month left before anything goes to print. From what she can tell, there’s an obvious reason why you’re Nancy’s second in command. Where Nancy is detail-oriented and hands-on, you seem more laissez-faire in your approach. Where Nancy is more focused to the point of tunnel vision, you seem more scatterbrained. The little piece of paper you handed her is shoved between a used copy of Making Movies by Sidney Lumet. She pulls it out to examine your handwriting. Room 122. Wear sneakers. Your handwriting is loopy and girlish, but the note is audacious. It’s a request, one you expect to be followed. If she reads between the lines the note would say ‘Meet me. Wear sneakers. Don’t be late’. Robin sticks it back into the book, carefully this time, and retreats further into her pillow. It could be worse. I could have to do it alone. The promise of your company isn’t completely reassuring, though. You’re still a trusted editor, one that could judge her and nitpick and get annoyed if Robin doesn’t get things right away. You’re still someone Robin hardly knows. But the thought of you being mean to her stirs a bit of cognitive dissonance. Y/N is probably nice. She joked with me. Why would she do that if she thought I was totally incompetent? She decides that it doesn’t even seem in your nature to be cruel to someone you hardly know, but there’s an aloofness that’s still impenetrable about you that tells Robin to proceed with caution. An ease about you that probably comes from years on the paper. Undoubtedly, it’s just as much your domain as it is Nancy’s. The self-doubt cycles back, signaling she’s broken the pinball machine in her brain again and now it dings incessantly. I just have to get through tomorrow. Meet Y/N. Wear sneakers. Don’t be late.

Entering the darkroom feels like stepping into an eerie, evil cabin in the woods. It’s something out of a horror movie, glowing red and otherwise dark. The smell is pungent and distinctly metallic, so chemically that it feels dangerous to spend more than five minutes in it. There are long metal tables with plastic bins filled with a clear solution. What looks like wet photographs hang from clothespins strung up on the ceiling. Robin’s early. She’s shifting from foot to foot waiting for your arrival and too scared to walk around the room and do any exploring. She’s tugging at her jacket sleeve and adjusting her hair in the reflection of something clear and reflective to her right. She’s nervous enough to only hear the squeaking of her shoes, the fast thump of her heart. Something touches her shoulder and she’s so startled that she yelps.

“Shit, sorry! I’m sorry! I thought you heard me come in.” It’s only Y/N.

“No, it’s okay! I should’ve been paying attention,” Robin sounds nervous and the same thought you had in the newsroom comes back. Make her laugh. Even if it’s not a good joke.

“Does this place give you the creeps?” There’s a concerned lilt in your voice while you’re asking her.

Robin nods, “It looks like an evil lair.”

You deadpan, “I come here to drain the souls of sophomore editors.” Thankfully, she laughs at that. You move past Robin to reach for the camera bag. It’s big and bulky with a Hawkins tiger patch on it.

“That explains why it smells like gas. Are we going to start liquifying if we stand here too long?” Even if Robin’s joking she’s still nervous. She eyes you pulling out a camera and 3 rolls of film and then putting them all back into the bag neatly.

You turn to her, looking at her even if it’s hard to discern the details of her features under the red light. “We’re safe. I spend hours here at a time. Fred used to spend more.” Both of you seem to remember that Fred’s in the hospital at the same time, so you quickly follow up “But he’s y’know, not liquefied. He’s a lot safer in here than anywhere near the football field.” The bag is all packed, you sling it over your shoulder and step towards the door. “Follow me.”

There are a million questions going through Robin’s mind right now, but her mouth is a little dry so she won’t ask any of them. It also doesn’t help that she’s a tiny bit intimidated by you. Not because you seem mean or cruel, but because it just looks like you know what you’re doing. There’s a self-assurance about you that not many people Robin knows possess. Maybe she just thinks that because she doesn’t know you much yet. It’s not like you’re cold to her, but she can’t shake this need to make you like her. Okay, maybe ‘like’ is farfetched. She’s decidedly shooting for you to find her tolerable. It’s not like Robin to be so quiet around people. She’s usually talkative, bordering verbose, and a little sarcastic in a way she hopes people find charming. She can talk a million words a minute when she’s around Steve. She has no issue rolling her eyes and loudly firing back at some idiot in band who’s using his clarinet as a pretend dick. This entire time she’s so focused on sifting through why she wants you to not hate her, she didn’t realize where you were taking her. She didn’t even think to question it. It’s only a ten-minute walk from the school’s east exit but it may as well have been Jupiter. It’s a big wooded area with patches of wild mint growing and a loud hum of insects. It’s how secluded it is that worries Robin. The question leaps out of her mouth before her brain even registers what she’s saying.��

“Are you going to murder me, Y/N?” If she didn’t sound so squirrely she could’ve played it off as a joke.

You look a little surprised, mouth forming a little oh shape. But then you decide to poke fun at her. “With what? A roll of film?” To be fair, you did lead her to a wooded area with no signs indicating people have inhabited this space. It’s a trail you know that’s only about 2 miles long. There are thick maple trees and several rings of mushrooms scattered around the forest floor. Robin is taking it all in. You couldn’t see much of her in the darkroom, but now in plain daylight, you could observe. The jacket sleeve she tugs on every now and then has a blue patch with yellow writing that says ‘handle with care’. You’re…interested. Something in you twitches because you realize that her jacket is telling you more about her than she is.

“What is this place?” Robin questions.

“It’s a fairy trail,” You put your hands on your hips, “Or, I call it that. It’s really just a normal trail but, you see those rings of mushrooms? Those are called fairy rings.”

“Okay. I guess…it sounds like the last place you’d murder anyone. 'Murder in fairy trail' would make for a weird headline”

Robin wears all of her questions on her face. It’s like reading a billboard. You try to fill in as many gaps as you can. “This is praxis. Umm…your first lesson for the newspaper,” Robin looks like she’s starting to get it. “Since you’re taking pictures you need to know all the things that go into taking a picture. I know it sounds sort of obvious but there’s a surprising amount of things to think about when you take a picture. The subject, the light, the color, the composition. And I know it’s the school paper so who cares what the pictures look like but still, I think it’s worth trying to get right.” She’s taking in what you’re telling her. Then you realize you never answered the biggest question practically bulging out of her forehead right now. “Oh! Sorry, I forgot. The trail is so we can capture subjects that don’t move. Y’know, before we get to any game-winning action shots or…I don’t know, moody portraits of whoever doesn’t win the student council election. I promise it’s not so I can murder you.” Robin relaxes a little bit, glances up at the way the sunlight is coming through the gaps in the leaves, and settles into how pretty of a place this is for Hawkins. Like she didn’t really think Hawkins could look like this.

“It’s so pretty here. But how the hell did you find it?”

“In the summer, when my grandparents would come to visit they would take me ‘fairy hunting’. According to all of the stories fairies like hanging out where it’s lush and there’s lots of plants.”

“I’d say this fits the criteria. Have you ever seen one?” Robin’s still taking it all in. She seems more comfortable around you now that she's not in the darkroom.

“I thought I did once. It was too quick, though and the wings could’ve been a big dragonfly. But my grandma sort of believes all the Pagan stuff about them being wise and spiritual beings and that when you come across them, it’s because you’re meant to.”

“Oh my god, my mom too! Well, my mom and dad. They’re more like domesticated hippies though. My mom is always shoving a crystal in my face whenever I get a headache or have like a big test to study for.”

“Do you believe in any of it?” You ask her, only because her being a reformed hippie didn’t really make sense with your perception of her until she said it. All of the things Robin reveals molds the perception until it matches with the person in front of you, who’s kicking a pinecone with the toe of her converse.

“I guess I don’t have any reason not to,” Robin shrugs, “I don’t know if I’d believe in fairies unless I saw one, though.”

“You didn’t believe in the tooth fairy?”

“My parents never told me about the tooth fairy, actually. Whenever I lost a tooth, I’d give it to them and they’d put it in this hollowed out coconut they brought home from their honeymoon in Florida.” Her face is breaking out in a grin because she’s never really revealed the inherent silliness of her parents. No one her age has ever asked her this much about herself. It's a little disorienting.

You’re grinning yourself because the thought of all of Robin’s baby teeth being kept safe in a coconut is so precious, you almost forget the purpose of your trip to the trail. “If only we had some coconuts or baby teeth here to take pictures of. It’d be much more interesting subject.” You pipe up to add, “I also brought you here for another reason. We need to get to know each other.” Shit, that probably sounds weird. Your hands itch for something to do so you take out the camera and load a roll of film into it before continuing. “Uh, everything with the paper works better when you know each other better. I mean, like it shows in the paper. We rely on each other, kind of. We also have a whole month together. So I don’t want you to feel lorded over by me or anything.”

It feels so weird that Robin isn’t the one rambling. This is the most she’s heard you say at once. The confident austere she’s come to associate you with slips a little. She feels better knowing it isn’t just her who’s nervous. “So do we…start now?”

“Yeah, uh,” You hand her the camera and notice her hands. There are some silver rings on a few of her fingers and dark red nail polish on all of them, “we can start now.”

You both walk the entire trail, it takes you each a slow hour. The first walk-through is mostly filled with commentary about your surroundings. You point out more fairy rings, the beginnings of some ivy growing on a tree, and the exoskeleton of a dead dragonfly. Robin dutifully takes photos of each thing you point out. Eventually, you stop pointing anything out, hoping she’ll trust her own ability to capture something. Robin holds the camera up to her eye, squints the other, and takes a picture of a little carving on a tree of a heart with some indiscernible initials. You’re both stil talking, but it’s never forced. There’s enough gaps in conversation for you each to enjoy the sounds of little chipmunks chasing each other and the distant rush of a creek on the far side of the trail. Robin tells you more about her parents, Melissa and Keith. The image of them starts to form, mixes with what you know about Robin. You wonder idly who she gets her voice from. It doesn’t sound anything like how someone your age would sound. She rasps like someone who’s been singing on stage for 30 years and had too much fun to bother about the health of their vocal chords. You sprinkle in a tip or two about taking pictures, everything you know was taught to you by Fred. His absence meant you had to shoulder writing articles and taking some pictures for a bit. A wash of gratefulness falls over you, At least now Robin can take the pictures. On the walk back Robin steps forward, leaves crunching under her converse, and holds the camera up to her eye again to take another photo. There’s the sound of an empty click.

“Think this roll is finished,” Robin tells you.

“We’ve taken enough for today. It’s gonna get dark soon, we can start heading back.” You adjust the camera bag over your shoulder and Robin hands you the camera to put back inside.

Robin’s lip curls into a half smile, “No little pixies photographed today.”

“Says who? We won’t know until we get it developed.” You reply like it’s obvious. “I’m starving. What about you?”

“Definitely hungry. The sneakers were a good call.”

“Okay,” You wrap the jacket you’re wearing around you a little tighter, the chill in the air starting to blow in. “let’s eat.”

It takes more effort than either of you want to expend to fit Robin’s bike in the trunk of your car. Your boxy beige Ford has seen better days but a run-down used car is exponentially better than no car. You climb into the driver’s seat while Robin fastens her seatbelt. You make quick work of turning the heater on. After a beat, you ask, “Could you open the glove compartment for me? My tapes are all in there.” It’s so stuffed with tapes that about four fall out onto the floor beneath Robin’s feet. Most of them are regular cassettes, but some look to be made by you with their own special names written in your loopy handwriting.

“Jesus, have you recently robbed a record store?” Robin’s joking as she looks through the ones that fell.

“I like having options,” You shrug and point to the tape in the very corner “Oh! Put that one in.”

Robin’s sliding the tape in and you both hear the big, energetic drums kick in. She shyly admits, “I haven’t listened to this album yet.”

“What!?” You’re giving Robin a face that says it’s impossible to have not listened to Blondie’s Eat to the Beat album. There’s just no way Robin hasn’t heard it. You start, “Take the tape home, then. I don’t want it back until you’ve listened to it once all the way through. Consider it homework.”

Robin doesn’t protest. “I have listened to Parallel Lines, though. Pretty Baby is one of my favorite songs of all time.”

“That’s because you haven’t heard the best four minutes of music in Blondie’s entire discography, yet. ‘Shayla’ is such a good song, I almost named my cat after it.”

“Well, why didn’t you?”

“He’s a boy. So I named him Bowie instead.” You’re not floundering the way Robin still is. Definitely not as intense as when you first met, but things aren’t coming as easy to her. Here, in your car, she’s wringing her hands and worrying the inside of her lip. Robin’s thinking, she’s being nice because she has to be. Because Fred’ll be back in a month anyways. It shouldn’t really matter what Y/N thinks of me. It’s still continuing as you step into the only diner in Hawkins, only a few patrons sit inside. The seats are dark green and worn, and the smell of coffee and the powdery notes of your waitress’s perfume hit you as you slide into a booth in the corner. You order a coke, Robin orders a shirley temple, and you both share a plate of cheese fries. You’re talking more about music, you both differ in opinion on who has better movie hair (Robin thinks Molly Ringwald reigns supreme, you argue Slone from Ferris Bueller’s day off has more volume), and of course about school. Robin’s waiting for you to bring up what is almost always discussed when she’s alone with any girl her age: crushes. She doesn’t blame anyone, it’s what’s on everyone’s mind and that’s fine. She’s used to it. So used to in fact that she’s already picked out some ordinary boy in her history class to use as a fill in crush for when you inevitably ask. She waits for you to. And then she waits some more, but you don’t ask about who she has a crush on. You’re still going on about Sloane Peterson.

Robin’s looking at you over her Shirley temple, “Okay, is there any other vital information I should know?”

You chew on the end of a cheese fry, “About the paper? We don’t have to do any more lessons for today.”

“No, no. I-I meant about each other. Y’know, other than your cat being named after David Bowie.”

“Oh.” You recall telling her that you both should get to know each other. For paper purposes, of course. “Well, what do you wanna know?”

“Hmm,” Robin’s mouth twitches in the corner while she’s thinking, “Why the paper?”

“I could ask you the same thing.”

“I asked you first.”

“Okay, fair. Short answer–I didn’t really consider doing anything else. I’ve been with the paper since freshman year.”

“And the long answer?” Robin’s genuinely curious. It’s refreshing to talk to someone that you haven’t known since you were a kid, there’s no shared history to compete with–only the present. It feels good to be sitting across from her. To watch little bubbles of condensation sweat off her glass and see the plate of fries slowly disappear. It’s late, both of your feet hurt a little from the walking you did, and you’re no longer complete strangers to one another.

You shrug a little, “I like to write. It comes naturally, I guess. I’ve kept a notebook since I was 5. I think when I was 7 I interviewed everyone in my family about their favorite ice cream flavor and wrote it in a little notepad and everything.”

Robin’s eyes soften at that, “Little reporter Y/N.”

“Exactly. Now your turn.”

“Hmm. I’ve never been great at short answers so I’ll give you an ‘answer’ answer.”

“‘Answer’ answer is fine with me.”

“I knew the paper needed a fill-in for Fred. I figured maybe it was time to try something new and as much as my mom would love it if I learned how to sew and bake apple strudel in the home ec room, photography seemed more interesting.”

You nod at her, “What about band? Do you still play an instrument?”

“I do. But I don’t know how far I’d get in college by playing the trumpet.”

“Okay. Yeah, that makes sense. Is the paper for college then?”

“Sort of.” You can tell she needs a little encouragement, a signal to know you’re just as curious about her.

“C’mon Robin! That was hardly an ‘answer’ answer. I gave you a peek at a childhood dream. A little embarrassing one, at that.”

“Wait, no! I thought it was cute, not at all embarrassing.” You hang onto that one word, despite all logical reasoning not to. She’s means 7 year old you. It’s normal to say anything a kid does is cute. But still, the word cute is echoing in your very tired brain. While you’re lost in thought, Robin’s spurred on by you, so she reaches into her backpack and pulls out the book she’s been reading.

You take the book into your hands and eye the cover and read it aloud, “‘Making Movies by Sidney Lumet’?”

It’s actually unnerving to say aloud, seeing as she hasn’t even verbalized it to anyone. Even if this little corner booth and cold night somehow feel like a little universe in which it’s just you two and some ice slinking in your cups, Robin is still waiting for something to go astray. In all likelihood, it would come from her saying something wrong, and then she’d have to quit the paper and lose a new acquaintance all in one fell swoop. It wouldn’t be fair. It’s her first day on the paper, she hasn’t even gotten to see how the pictures she took today came out. The ugly nervous edge in her brain starts to go away with more time she spends talking to you, it’d be a crime if she was the one to stop something before it started. She tries not to feel the weight of your question, and fails, but takes one look at you and changes her mind. You’re looking back at her with pure interest, maybe Robin is being naive but her intuition is telling her there’s no ulterior motive here. You just look like you want to know about her, and that’s already scary in its own right. So Robin answers you, “I picked it up at the used bookstore when I was a freshman. I don’t even remember if I thought much about it other than that it was only $2…but I really like movies. Not just enough to work at Family Video, but more than that, I guess. And, I don’t know, I’ve always wondered what’d it be like to be behind the camera and when school started this year I kind of freaked out about the future. Even now, I still freak out. But I felt like if I spent enough time behind a camera this year… eventually a video camera wouldn’t feel so far off.” Immediately after she feels like she’s having a bad dream where she’s in her underwear on stage and the audience is fully dressed. Maybe I said too much? Did any of that make sense? Was I babbling? I was definitely babbling. But then you look at her nicer than anyone who isn’t her mom has looked at her in a long, long time. You’re looking at her like you get it, and that she wasn’t being incomprehensible and babbling. You open the book and find your note stuffed in between a chapter on the basics of directing. Room 122. Wear sneakers. It’s such a little thing. Robin probably just shoved it into whatever was closest to her so she wouldn’t lose it. But still, it makes something in your stomach flip to know she kept it.

“Is that the plan? Film school somewhere on the West Coast…getting to sit in that uncomfortable-looking chair and direct everybody around?” There is no meanness in your asking, it’s just fun to tease her a little.

“Something like that.” She does this crooked half smile, and it mildly annoys you because you don’t know why but you want to say something to make her smile fully. You like Robin. You like her enough to consider asking for the second marachino cherry in her shirley temple, but decide against it. It’d be too much. You’d scare Robin into politely saying yes and probably regretting it. It’s something a closer friend would ask, and you aren’t that to her. Robin’s felt like the conversation has stayed about her for a bit too long. She teases you back, “But your plans must not be far off either. Writing at a big paper on the East Coast…draining the souls of more people but this time they’re college students wearing loafers?”

You secretly hate how witty she can be, but decide to deadpan instead. “Ha-ha. If directing doesn’t work out you might have a spot on Saturday Night Live waiting for you.”

“We’d both be on the East Coast, then.”

“Yeah, I guess we would be.” It’s fun to talk about the future like this. Like it isn’t hiding around the corner waiting to kidnap you, but rather something light and fanciful. Robin is twisting at a ring on her finger and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She looks a little tired, but so do you. The diner is going to close soon and since it’s a school night you both should head out. That still seems like the last thing you want to do, because it’ll disrupt this little space in time you and Robin spent carving out with each other today. When was the last time you made a new friend? “Can I ask you something, Robin?”

She doesn’t look nervous like you were expecting her to. She just chews on the fry and replies, “Shoot.”

“Do you ever feel like…stuck? I mean, here, in Hawkins.”

She doesn’t have to think about it before answering you, “Yeah. A lot, actually.” There’s a pause, you glance at your waitress wiping the counter, and refilling someone’s coffee.

Your tiredness is probably doing more of the talking than it should be. “I just hope college is…different I guess. I hate that feeling like…the walls are closing in or something.” You worry you sound too serious or sad. You’re thinking of a joke to make to give yourself an out. But then Robin interjects your thoughts.

“I know what you mean. Sometimes, I’d rather die than think about still being here after high school.” There’s only empathy in her tone. You’re not sure what you expected from Robin, but under different circumstances, it feels like you two would’ve never crossed paths. Okay, never, is an exaggeration. Maybe you guys would’ve exchanged ‘hi’s’ at Nancy’s graduation party, or she would’ve rung up your rentals at Family Video, or you would’ve seen her playing the trumpet for two seconds at a pep rally before sticking your head down into your notepad and continuing to take your notes of the event. But over a plate of cheesy fries that are long gone by now, you two are something resembling friends.

“You don’t have to die to get to a better place,” You tell her, “just drive 50 miles in any direction.” She’s laughing into her jacket sleeve, because she knows you’re right. You’re laughing with her. There’s a whole month left before you guys go to print for the next issue. It’s nice to know that Robin’s your partner for the next month, nice to know you have time together. For paper purposes, of course.

#robin buckley x you #robin buckley x y/n #robin buckley x reader #robin fanfic #robin headcanon #robin stranger things #robin buckley #my writing

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sunflowerharrington · 2 years ago

Text

The Table

🧸 that one time when you and billy broke the wheeler’s kitchen table and blamed it on steve and nancy

🧸 smut, 18+, p in v, dom!angry!billy, slight breeding kink, name calling, praise and degradation, robin’s amazing storytelling (10/10 recommend), i think that’s it. this is what happens every time i talk to @myobmaya 🤭 smut below the cut

🧸 billy hargrove x fem!reader (poc and plus size friendly. i don’t follow the rules, i make them)

🧸 look at that cute little face🥹 (that wink has me on my knees daily [hourly]) it’s the fact that i added a meme at the end for me

🧸 @eddiebillysteve @steveslittlesunflower @hellfirehaley @thisishellfire @quickiesgirl @fxllfaiiry @liviawritesthings @wzrlds @taecube @friendly-neighborhood-ghoul @corrodedhawkins @sympathyforher @myobmaya @wh0re-for-christian-bale dm comment or ask me to be added or taken off

robin furrows her brows, looking down at one small crack in the table held together with glue after asking nancy for the red sauce for her fries. “i still can’t believe billy fucked y/n on this table and broke it.”

“they what?!” karen gasped, probably wishing she was you, and the kids started gagging and fake throwing up, dustin ran out of the room with will and mike following him. el and lucas followed soon after.

“typical billy,” max rolled her eyes, following the group shortly after.

nancy was sitting there with a smirk. “do tell the full story, babe.”

“this is what y/n told me… actually, holly can you go play with your dolls for a minute? this story is boring and it’s not about fairies or princesses…”

“okay robbie!”

so, lets let robin set the scene; season two fight with steve and billy except robin is here this time making everything so much worse.

“so if this was the night of the fight…” nancy started, realization hitting her in the face like a truck. “oh my god! this is when they blamed it on me and steve!”

“that’s not all,” robin replied, smirking at karen. “this is around the time y/n fell pregnant, and billy’s obviously the daddy.”

—

you walk into the house to find billy on top of steve, beating the shit out of him. you wondered why. god, was steve starting fights again?

you run up to them just in time to smack the syringe out of max’s hands, screaming at the kids and robin to leave mike’s house. you wrap your arms around billy’s and pull him back off steve by your inner elbows tucking into his armpits.

he falls backwards and you quickly wrap your legs around his hips too, so even if he can stand up again, steve would get a head start at running away.

“steve, i need you to leave right now,” you said, struggling to stay on the ground as billy tried to stand up again. “seriously harrington, get your ass outside. now! he’ll kill you if you don’t leave in the next three seconds!”

“what about you?”

“unlike you, i can handle him. get out right now. do you actually wanna die?”

with that, steve left. but before he did you asked him to apologize to the wheeler’s if their table or any piece of furniture in the house breaks. he asked why.

“you… don’t wanna— jesus, baby, i know, i know. i’ll let go in a second— you don’t wanna know, steve.”

steve had just slammed the door shut and locked it from the outside when billy got to the door, his hand on the handle just as the lock clicked. when you know steve and the kids are far enough away, you release billy from your hold on him.

you slip under his arm and press yourself against the door, and he immediately pushes you up against it, pressing his body into yours. you smile up at him, taking cautious measures as you reach up to hold his blood-covered and bruised cheek. hopefully that would calm him down…

he takes a tight grip of your hips and walks you backwards to sit on the table so you’re the same height as him, crashing his lips against yours. he roughly pushes you back to lay down immediately, towering over you as he abuses your neck with bites, licks and sucks, deep crescent moon shapes appearing indented in your hips from his fingernails.

he puts his lips on your neck, so soft it makes you wanna surrender to him for life. you want to live him, you want to breathe him, and from the way his body reacts to yours… those feelings are reciprocated.

you move to unbutton the two buttons keeping his shirt on his body, shoving it down his arms as he pulls your dress over your head.

“no panties, sweetheart?” he growls in your ear, causing you to clench around nothing.

he throws his shirt over your shoulders, slipping your arms through the sleeves, buttoning one button in the centre. “look so fuckin hot in my clothes, baby.”

you’d never seen him take off his pants and boxers so fast. i mean, if steve and robin are watching for whatever reason… you better give them a great show right?

billy grabs a fistful of your hair and sits your back up before painfully thrusting into you without preparation beforehand. he didn’t care. he needed to get his anger out.

“fuck baby, feels so fucking good,” he moans loudly, thrusting into you as you whimper from the pain but not enough to scream your safe word, loud slapping noises ringing through the room from his hips slamming into yours. the sound of the table creaking beneath you bringing you back into the room.

that frown of concentration’s still on his face as he fucks you. you go to make a comment about it but he covers your mouth with one of his large hands.

“if you speak i’ll stop” he grunts, even though he didn’t want to stop. “such a good little slut for me, getting fucked on nancy wheeler’s kitchen table, hmm doll?”

“billy,” you whine, barely muffled by his hand as his thrusts begin to falter slightly, with you coming hard around him, a high pitched ringing sound filling your ears so you don't hear the snap of the wood beneath you.

“gonna cum inside you, baby. knock you up real good. gonna make you all nice and round and so fucking pregnant, huh?” he grunted, his pace quickening as he chased his own high. “gonna be a real fucking daddy, not just yours.”

“you know i hate sharing, baby.” you pout up at him as his eyes squeeze shut, his beautiful face contorting in pleasure as he came, the loudest groan so far leaving the back of his throat.

“you’re gonna need to learn how to share, doll,” he says, pulling out of you, flipping you onto your stomach. “gonna fuck you again and again until i get you pregnant. gonna be mine forever.”

“already yours, baby,” you whine as he thrusts into you again, sliding in and out of your raw red pussy, pain and pleasure mixing into one.

3… he moans behind you in time with his thrusts, each slam of his hips harder than the last. 2… pulling your hair to get your face close to his, pulling out and flipping you back onto your back. 1… calling you his good girl over and over as he chased his second high of the night. but it wouldn’t be the last.

snap! billy trips with the force, his face landing in between your breasts as he tries to catch his breath, a splinter digging into your back.

“shit,” he laughs, pulling himself up to kiss you on the table that had snapped in half. “looks like we gotta finish this in my car.”

“looks like it.”

—

“so you’re telling me that billy got y/n pregnant… on this table… and blamed it on you and steve?”

robin and nancy (and y/n):

#stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #billy hargrove #st smut #smut #stranger things smut #billy hargrove x female reader #billy hargrove fanfic #billy hargrove stranger things #billy x reader #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove smut #i feel like this one is an okay one but idk. you can be the judge of that

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thebattleofstarcourt · 2 years ago

Note

Both sound very nice! But I think the first one appeals most to me!!!

ੈ♡˳·˖✶ hide

eddie munson x gn!reader

warnings: none

a/n: the fact that eddie’s age doesn’t make sense is not my fault it’s the duffers! but since dubious aging kind of goes against my own personal morality, eddie and steve are the same age/year and reader is the same age/year as nancy and robin.

crashing on the wheeler’s basement couch shouldn’t have been as relaxing as it was, but, surprisingly, it was the best sleep you’ve gotten since this vecna shit started in the first place. no threats of your favorite little moody redhead getting possessed by the upside-down’s new big-bad, and you barely had to think about the fact that your old best friend was being framed for murder. well, at least until —

“henderson! henderson – fuck – i’ve got a problem here!”

you sighed and picked up the walkie that was buzzing on the coffee table. “eddie?” you asked, yawning into the receiver.

“yeah, yeah, shit.” he said, lowering his voice to a whisper. “i’m gonna need some back up over here.”

“what’s wrong?” you asked, sitting up abruptly.

“i’m, like, 99% sure jason carver and his goons are here to gut me like a fish.” he said, his shallow breathing echoing loudly in the mic. “i saw some headlights and when they opened the doors i heard that shitty fucking wham! song–”

“shit.” you jumped up and quickly grabbed steve’s keys from the table, practically bulldozing yourself out the wheeler’s house.

“well, i dont know if they’re gonna gut me. maybe they’ll snap all my bones in half like a glowstick, or something.”

“eddie, calm down.” you said. “i’ll be there in 10, so just shut the hell up and stay low, okay?”

you took the silence as an affirmation and started the car.

ੈ♡˳·˖✶

to absolutely no one’s surprise, eddie munson did not stay low.

and that’s precisely what ended up getting the two of you stranded at (the make-out rock). you both sat underneath the sledge of rock, soggy and breathless, from your swim in the lake. your ill-fitting t-shirt you stole from mike’s closet stuck to your chest like a hungry leech, and gave absolutely no insolation to the cool night air on your drenched skin. just as you were about to complain about the goosebumps travelling up your arms, you looked over at eddie, whose leather jacket and jean vest combo made the wetness look that much more uncomfortable.

“you should take your jackets off.” you told him. “those can’t be comfortable.”

he noticed your shivering and shrugged off his leather jacket and handed it to you. “if you wanted my jacket you could’ve just asked.”

“i didn’t just want the jacket,” you said, throwing it onto your back. “although this feels better.”

he let out a quiet laugh and started fiddling with the rings on his fingers.

“where did you get them?”

“huh?”

“the rings,” you pointed at them. “where’d you get them?”

“oh,” he said. “uh, mostly flea markets and shit.” he took off the silver pig’s head and showed it to you. “wayne got me this one for my 18th. he found it at a pawn shop i think.”

“they look cool.” you said. “adds to the whole, badass metal thing you’ve got going on.”

“thanks.” he snorted. “i decided to really throw myself into the look after i grew my hair out.”

“yeah,” you said. “i’m glad you did. you always wanted to look like ozzy osborne.”

he laughed. “it’s hard to look like ozzy with a buzzcut.”

“i’m sure you could’ve made it work.” you said. “hey, do you remember the time in 7th grade when we stole your dad’s weed and smoked it out of an apple?”

“oh, of course. we got so stoned we could barely move.” he said. “do you remember the time you dressed up like a fairy for my birthday party?”

“it was dungeons and dragons themed!”

“you wore glittery wings from the halloween store.”

“well, it’s not like you would help me pick out the costume!”

“that would’ve ruined the surprise,” he said.

“yeah, yeah.” you rolled your eyes. “you know, i’ve still got the crown you made me for it.”

his eyes widened. “seriously?” he asked. “how the hell is that still intact?”

“whenever it breaks i tape it back together,” you said.

“oh,” he said.

“is that surprising?” you laughed.

“a little.” he admitted. “kind of assumed you’d throw it away or something.”

“of course not.” you said. “that’s still, like, the sweetest thing someone’s ever given to me.”

“it’s made out of stotch tape and sticks i found in my backyard.” he deadpanned.

“but you made it for me,” you said. “and don’t sell yourself short, munson. you glued on this beautiful, big red jewel on it. it was like, the highlight of my 12 year-old life.”

“what’d do your friends say about it?” he asked.

“i don’t think they’ve seen it.” you said. “i keep it in a box under my bed.”

“ah,” he pursed his lips, “yeah, that’s about right.”

“what’s that supposed to mean?” you asked.

“it means that it would’ve been weird for you, the monarch of hawkins high, to have satanic memorabilia on display.” he wiggled his fingers at the reference of his favorite board game.

“c’mon, eddie.” you said. “you know i’m not like that.”

“how am i supposed to know?” he asked. “we were friends in middle school before you got all hot and cool and then we… weren’t.”

“well, it’s not like you made an effort to talk to me.” you defended.

he laughed. “yeah, ‘cause me walking over to the popular table with kids like jason carver – who is literally trying to kill me right now, might i add – would’ve turned out peachy keen.”

“you’re… probably right.” you sighed, putting your face in your hands. “fuck, i’m sorry eddie. i should’ve done something–”

“woah, slow down.” he said, pulling your hands away. “i don’t blame you, like at all. i didn’t expect you to stand up for me just because we were friends when we were 12.”

“doesn’t mean it wasn’t fucked up of me not to.” you said. “i just… wanted to be liked so bad, i just kinda… forgot who i was. like, one day i woke up and became totally unrecognizable.” you laughed. “and then this whole upside-down shit happened, and i thought if i started filling up all my time with football games and parties then no one would be able to tell that i was so… not normal.”

“high school’s the fuckin’ worst. being popular and shit seems like it’s life or death but nothing matters once we’re out of it.” he said, pulling his long hair between his fingers. “but, if it’s worth anything, i’ve always liked you.”

you snorted. “seriously?”

“yeah.” he nodded. “always.”

“i kind of thought you hated me,” you admitted.

“i kind of thought the same thing.”

“never.” you shook your head. “even when you’re standing on the lunch tables i always think you’re cool. way cooler than me, or jason, or harrington.”

his cheeks flushed at your words, he hid it with a tamed smirk. “wow,” he said. “the town freak being cooler than the basketball and swim team captain? you better hold off before my ego gets even bigger.”

“you’ve got more guts than carver for sure. standing up for what you believe in even when you know people are gonna shit on you? that’s cooler than throwing balls into laundry baskets.”

he laughed. “glad you appreciated that one, i was sitting on it for a while.”

you smiled, looking over at his big brown eyes for the first time that night. despite the fact that his hair was still drenched, and his once white baseball tee was now a dingy brown color, he still wore this charm that made him look permanently alluring. you don’t know if it was the shit you’ve just gone through, the heavy conversation, or the old crush you used to have on him resurfacing for the first time in 6 years, but you couldn’t help but melt in his sweet gaze.

“you think – ya’ know, once this vecna shit’s all over – i could, maybe, come over sometime?”

“you asking me to hang out?”

“yeah, i,” you faltered. “i kinda miss hanging out and smoking with you.”

he grinned, teeth and everything. “i’d love that.”

“that means you can’t die on me, alright?” you said. “no more dumb decisions.”

“i think i can manage that.”

#wc:1.4k #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson #joseph quinn #joseph quinn fanfiction #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n

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flamehairedwritings · 4 years ago

Text

Happiest Season Of All

Characters: Chief Jim Hopper x Female Reader

Rating: M, 18+ ONLY

A/N: Happy Holidays! Phew, it’s been a while. Here is a kind of drabble, and also kind of a sequel to Pain In My Heart? Set the year before S1, there’s no mentions of family, no use of Y/N, and it’s just a gentle, kind of angsty little story.

This story contains broken hearts, swearing, alcohol and embarrassment.

I hope you enjoy and have a lovely week!

Summary: Broken up with just before Christmas? Fantastic. The only thing that can help is returning to your home town, old friends... and an old love.

Masterlist

Please don’t copy, steal or repost my work; credit does not count.

—

23rd December 1982

‘... There'll be parties for hosting, marshmallows for toasting, and carolling out in the snow...’

You quietly hum along absent-mindedly to the cassette someone’s playing from a boombox, gazing out of the window. Usually, you’d have been annoyed but, hey, it’s the holidays.

Besides, you haven’t had much of a chance to get into the festive spirit or mood recently. With the classic Christmas song playing, the train rumbling gently and the twinkling lights in the darkness slowly growing brighter, you’re finally starting to feel it. Inhaling a breath, you lean your temple against the cold glass, your fingers lacing together in your lap as you gaze at the lights.

Hawkins, Indiana. Your hometown.

It’s been a few years since you were here for longer than a weekend but, oh, boy, this year you just need to be here. You’re retreating, you’re not too proud to admit, coming home to lick your wounds and be surrounded by all things familiar, cosy and boring.

You almost laugh. You’d left this place because it was so damn boring and now here you are, craving it. If teenage you could see you now. She’d be giving ‘that’ look which you’re told you still give to this day.

Ah, well. Time’s a bitch, baby.

The train slows as it pulls into the station and you start to gather your things while a few others around you stand and pull their bags down from the overhead racks. You pull your suitcases down as the train comes to a stop, all three of them, with their different colours and patterns. Pulling on your scarf, coat and rucksack, you haul the suitcases down the aisle as best as you can single-file, muttering under your breath as they catch every few steps against chairs.

The wheels clatter onto the concrete of the cold platform when you step down, one suitcase twisting onto its front and tangling with the others as it nearly falls from your hand. Muttering under your breath again, you right it and continue walking down the platform, two small groups of people reuniting having to part for you. Making eye contact with a grateful smile, you’re relieved you don’t recognise any of them; you’re really not in the mood for your own reunion right now.

“There she is!”

Well, just the one.

A smile spreads across your face as Karen Wheeler trots down the platform in her heeled boots, grinning and her arms open wide. The suitcases drop from your hands as you throw your arms around one another, rocking from side to side slightly.

“Oooh, hello, sweetheart,” Karen murmurs, pressing a big, wet kiss to your cheek.

“Hey, Karrie.”

Your smile lingers, and it’s the first genuine one you’ve had in a while. Karen has worn the same perfume since high school and it puts you at ease instantly. God, you just love her. You talk on the phone every other week and have done since you moved out of Hawkins; she’s been the most consistent friend in your life and you love her with all your damn heart.

“C’mon, give me those, let’s get out of here, it’s freezing...” Pulling back, she takes two of the suitcases from you before you can protest and starts striding down the platform.

You have to do a quick little jog to catch up with her, marvelling, not for the first or even fortieth time, how she can go so quickly in those heels. It’s a short walk to the exit, made shorter by Karen’s pace, and she’s parked right outside. Wonderful. Opening the trunk, you both bundle your suitcases in, tossing your rucksack on top of it, and then do a speedy little walk to the doors, yanking them open.

“Oof, coldest winter we’ve had in years,” Karen shivers dramatically in her seat as she rubs her gloved hands together before buckling her seatbelt.

Buckling your own as she eases out onto the road, you blow out a breath. “Yeah, definitely feels that way.”

“So, how was the journey?”

“Oh, the usual, long but fine. It was a lot emptier than I expected.”

“Well, we keep hearing there’s gonna be a blizzard, so some folks have come home a little earlier.”

“Well, that’s smart.”

“Yeah. Means I keep bumping into people at the store that I wish I could avoid, though, and on the street.” She snorts as she glances at you. “Ugh, I bumped into Peggy Dawnes the other day, remember her? She would not stop talking about her perfect life on her perfect farm with her perfect husband and her perfect kids and her perfect lawn. Well, there were ten bottles of wine in her cart and I know for a fact her mother doesn’t drink and her perfect husband only likes neat whisky, so, there.”

“Oh.”

You cringe internally at your short reply, but you really can’t think of what else to say. Karen glances at you again, pausing. You look over at her and find the sympathy you’ve only been able to hear during the last few weeks. She reaches over and pats your knee gently before returning her hand to the wheel.

“Oh, sweetheart... How are you doing?”

You release a breath, raising your eyebrows slightly. “Better for being here, already. But, y’know...”

She gives you a sympathetic smile as she pats your knee again. “Don’t worry, toots, like I said you can stay as long as you want, it’s no trouble at all.”

You return her smile, relieved that you find you don’t have to force it. “Thank you.”

“No worries.” Her smile widens as she tilts her head. "The kids are looking forward to having you with us, you know how much they love you. It’ll do us all some good.”

You don’t ask about Ted because you know not to.

“I can’t wait to see them, too. How have they been?”

You gaze out of the windshield as she tells you how Nancy and Mike are doing at school and how many words Holly can say now, your eyes flitting from house to house. Decorations are out in full force, as they should be, they’ve probably been up since the 1st of the month, and it makes you smile to see them, remembering how you and Karen would go from house to house when you were younger and rate them out of 10 candy canes.

Ah, the simple life.

She’s still chatting about Mike and his friends when she turns down onto their long drive. It’s lined with various Christmas lawn ornaments, most lit up. Lights line the inside of some of the many windows of the house, too, making it look gorgeous and cosy and warm. A curtain is yanked back suddenly and Mike’s face appears, grinning. He waves frantically and you smile instantly, waving back with your eyebrows raised.

My favourite, funny little kid.

He’s already at the wide open door when Karen parks, still grinning. Unbuckling your seatbelt, you open the door and step out only to have him nearly slam into you before you can straighten, hugging you tightly.

“You’re here!”

You laugh, wrapping your arms around him just as fiercely. “Hey, buddy. You okay?”

“Yeah. C’mon, I wanna show you this book I got...” He’s already out of your arms and waving you towards the door, which Karen is muttering about the heat being let out of.

Chuckling to yourself, you help her with your suitcases and rucksack, feeling vastly different to how you did ten minutes ago; they never fail to raise your spirits. Nancy greets you as you enter, smiling widely and also ready for a hug. You give it gladly and just as fiercely as you had with Mike, asking her how she is. She shrugs and just says “Fine,” with a smile as you remove your shoes and coat, and you marvel at how she’d once been as talkative as Mike when she was younger. You hear the boy himself calling from the basement, telling you he can’t currently find the book but it’s around here someone and you’re gonna love it! You follow Karen up the stairs to the guest room with a wide smile, calling back your thanks to him.

Passing walls lined with family photographs, it’s a short walk down the hall to the room you’ll be staying in for... well, who knows. Karen opens the door with a trilled, “Ta-da!” and you laugh as you take in the sight before you. It’s completely decked out in Christmas decorations; tinsel on every bit of furniture, snow-globes on the window sill, a polar bear stuffed toy on the bed, fairy-lights around the headboard. You’d roll your eyes at the excessiveness of it if it wasn’t so damn sweet.

“Wow, it’s like Santa’s Grotto in here...”

“Eh, close enough, I wanted fake snow on the ground but Ted vetoed that idea pretty quick.”

You snort, hauling the suitcase you’re carrying onto the bench at the end of the bed and dropping your rucksack onto it before sitting on the bed, your fingers running over the blanket Karen’s mother had crocheted. Nancy lingers in the doorway, and after leaning your other suitcases against a chest of drawers, Karen turns to her, making a shooing gesture.

“All right, go on, Nance, us hot young things need to get ready.”

“Ugh, Mom...” Nancy just about manages to stop herself from rolling her eyes as she turns away and heads back down the hall while you stare at Karen.

“Uh... Ready for what? Bed?”

“No,” Karen laughs, and you suddenly notice she’s going through your suitcase on the bench, rifling through and pulling various items out. “We’re going out, to the bar.”

“The bar?”

“Yes, the bar.”

You’re still staring at her. “Where everyone we know goes?”

Karen shrugs, looking at you like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Yeah, ‘cause it’s still the only good bar in Hawkins.”

“I thought you wanted to avoid everyone.”

“Eh, yeah, but... y’know, only good bar in Hawkins. And...” Oh, no, she’s looking sheepish, her head bowing slightly as she glances from you to some of your clothes she’s pulled out. “... Uh, we’re kinda having a party here tomorrow, anyway, so...”

“What?”

Her eyebrows shoot up, her hands raising. “It just kinda happened. It’s been years since we’ve had one and Ted and I were talking about it and then I saw Mary-Lou at Mike’s school and I just happened to mention it and she got so excited and then I got excited and it just, it suddenly happened.”

Your lips press together as you exhale a short breath. “Well, they were fun...”

“Yeah, they were, weren’t they?” Karen sits beside you with a nostalgic sigh, shaking her head. “We had some of the best times of our lives at ‘em.”

“Yeah... I remember the one after you gave birth to Nancy, I thought I was gonna have to take you to the hospital.”

“Ha! Thank God my Mom came over to look after her. What about the one where you set fire to the tree?”

“Oh, please don’t remind me, and that wasn’t actually my fault, you know,”

“Ha, yeah, sure, that was great...”

You both sigh together, a smile finding its way onto your lips at all the memories that come flooding back. They had been fun. You hadn’t been able to attend every one over the years but the ones you had had been so great they’d almost made you want to stay in Hawkins. Maybe... Maybe a return to a beloved tradition is exactly what you need.

Turning your head to her, you arch an eyebrow. “You didn’t think to tell me it was happening, though?”

Karen shrugs as she smiles. “I didn’t want you to talk yourself out of enjoying it before it had even happened. Same as tonight.”

“Oh, Karrie...” You huff out a breath. “... You know me too well, it’s so annoying. Ugh, I was so looking forward to just curling up on the couch, drinking and watching some of the classics.”

“I know.” She pats your knee, nudging her shoulder against yours. “And we’re gonna do that the day after Christmas, and every day that you want to while you’re here. But tonight, we’re gonna get fancy and go out and get a little bit drunk. It’s Christmas, c’moooon.”

You just can’t help but smile. “All right. All right! Fine. How long have I got?”

“An hour.”

“What—”

She’s already on her feet, pointing at you as she heads to the door. “Take a shower while I cook us and the kids something up, and then we’ll get ready. okay?”

You know you have absolutely no choice in the matter. “Okay, fine.”

“Great!” she beams, reaching for the door handle to close it behind herself. She pauses, though, resting her weight on one foot as she clears her throat. “Oh, and uh... he’s probably gonna be there.”

You don’t have to ask who she’s referring to.

Staring at her, you manage to keep your features expressionless. “Oh. Really?”

“Yeah.” She’s watching you carefully, teeth grazing over her lower lip. “He is nearly every night, apparently, according to Marian.”

Raising your eyebrows slightly, you smile. “Well... maybe he won’t be.”

“Yeah, maybe he won’t be...” She’s still watching you, a gentle smile pulling at her lips. “Shower, toots.”

“Okay, okay...” You wave your hand as she pulls the door closed, hearing her move down the hallway.

The moment you hear her heading down the stairs, you release a long breath, lying back on the bed.

Oh, shit...

Well.

You stare at the ceiling as the realisation suddenly dawns on you.

I might see Jim Hopper tonight.

James Hopper. Jim. Hopper. Hop. Chief, also now, not that you’ve ever been around to call him that.

You’d been friends since you were kids, best friends actually, at one point closer than you and Karen had been, and then feelings had developed when you'd become teenagers and then you’d taken the leap and had started dating and then...

You’d broken up.

And you’d been the one to initiate it.

And you’d done that because, well... It was because of a lot of little things. Mainly, though, you hadn’t known what route you wanted to take, college or work, you hadn’t even known what you wanted to do, but you knew you wanted to get out of Hawkins. And Hop... hadn’t known what the hell he wanted to do either, but he hadn’t even thought about it. He’d spoken once or twice about joining the military, or just starting a job, too. College hadn’t even crossed his mind. The conversation had come up and, well, it hadn’t ended well.

In fact, when it ended, that has been the last time you’ve spoken to him. As you’ve returned home over the years you’ve heard he did join the military, fought in Vietnam, came home, married, and lived in New York the same time you had. You’d been heartbroken to hear from Karen that his daughter had died, and he’d divorced and moved back home.

Now, he’s Chief of Hawkins Police and, well, you’d love to avoid seeing him at all costs. There can come a time when, having not seen someone in decades, you can’t even have a casual conversation because all both parties are doing is screaming in their heads.

Well. Like you’d said yourself. He might not be there.

Hey, as Chief of Police this is probably a very busy time of year and he’ll be off doing something.

It’s gonna be fine.

Absolutely fine.

After showering, you throw on some clean, comfy clothes and head downstairs to eat with Karen and the kids.

Holly sits at the table in her highchair, silent as ever, well, being two years old she only knows a handful of words, but she just stares at you as she has done since she was a baby. Mike talks non-stop about school and his friends while Nancy chimes in every now and then to talk about her own friends, saying names of people in her class that you take a moment or two to remember, and to mutter insults at him while he mutters them back.

Karen half-heartedly tells them to stop in between telling you what she might wear, and you somehow manage to keep up with all conversations. Frankly, it’s also quite nice after being surrounded by mostly silence for the last few weeks.

Whipping your plate away from you seconds after you finish, Karen is up and striding to the kitchen, calling over her shoulder.

“C’mon! Let’s get sexy!”

Your lips twitch as Mike and Nancy groan, the only thing they can agree on right now being that their Mom is a complete and utter embarrassment.

She practically shoves you up the stairs, trying to get you to move faster, and from then on the next 30 minutes feels like a whirlwind. She tries on six outfits before settling on her usual favourite, and changes in your room while you rifle through what you’ve brought. Luckily, even though you can’t really remember packing, you’ve brought some of your own favourites, and, after scrambling to find some shoes to go with them, she helps you decide on an old classic.

Gazing at you, her hands on her hips, she beams with delight.

“Well, look at you, huh! Fancy lady!”

You give a twirl as she whoops, and then her arm is looping through yours and she’s practically dragging you towards the door.

“Bye, guys, we’ll be back late!” she calls out, though no one answers, too busy doing their own thing.

You haven’t seen any sign of Ted and, once again, you know not to ask.

“Late? How late is late?” you ask with an arched eyebrow as she hurries you down the stairs.

“Oh, come on, not that late, we’re not gonna get wasted, we’re not teenagers anymore.”

—

“... God, I hate it...”

The stall door slams against the cubicle wall as you pull it open a little more forcefully than you had intended. Holding it for a moment, you exhale a short breath before moving towards the sinks, only swaying a little. Washing your hands, you glance up at Karen, watching her try to reapply her lipstick as neatly as possible.

“And did you hear Julian is engaged? And Andrea has a new boyfriend? Is it me or is everybody getting into a relationship?”

She snorts, rubbing her lips together. “It’s that time of year, folks hate being lonely at Christmas.”

You scoff, turning the tap off and drying your hands. “Just sleep with people, then, doesn’t mean you have to get into a relationship and hog someone all to yourself.”

She laughs, slipping her lipstick back into her bag before turning to you, a hand on her hip. “Oh, babe... C’mon, let’s find you someone to have meaningless sex with it.”

“Okay.”

The bar has been heaving from the moment you’d arrived. It usually is, but tonight the place is rammed, perhaps because of the time of year, but maybe more because, it turns out, there’s an offer on drinks, it being the holiday season and all, and happy hour has lasted more than one hour. More than two. It’s nearing three now.

Each sip has helped you relax, even as Karen gasps and points out old high school classmates, filling you in on every detail of their lives she’s learned. So far, incredibly gladly, she’s not pointed out a certain Chief.

Returning to your table, which a guy you don’t recognise has been guarding for you, as in literally guarding, he has his hands behind his back and is saying, “Nah, move along, this ain’t free...” to anyone who looks like they’re going to swoop in. At spotting you both, he grins and holds his arms out wide, gesturing at the table.

“All free for you, m’ladies.”

You’re unable to stop a smile because there’s something so weirdly charming about this absolute goofball of a man. He takes a seat beside Karen as you sit, the two of them having been exchanging small talk that verged on flirting. Heck, it was flirting. Sipping from your drink as you watch them, you feel a small, familiar twist in your stomach.

Karen is more like her teenage self when she’s with you, but when you see her with Ted, no longer Teddy as he had been in high school, and the kids, she’s Karen the mom, like she’s caged her personality in and doesn’t quite know how to bring the two parts of herself together. When she’d come to visit you once last year, you’d gone out to a bar and you’d watched her flirt with a couple of the men there. You’d thought it was harmless at first, just a bit of fun for her, she’s a charismatic lady, but then something had changed and, as a guy had held her hand, stroking it, and she hadn’t pulled away, you’d felt a twist in your stomach.

She’s gonna have an affair one day.

The thought had come to you so suddenly and so sharply that you’d shoved it away with all your might, horrified with yourself. No, Karen wouldn’t do that... Would she? Since then, you’d become more and more unsure. You’ve stopped asking about Ted when you talk because she’d just sigh heavily and spend the next ten minutes pointing out every flaw he has, how the romance has gone, how she’s tried and nothing happens. You know she’s unhappy, but you just can’t see her doing it. You hope not, anyway.

Looking away from them, you watch a few people dancing, Christmas music flowing out of the speakers above.

Karen laughs at something the guy says, and in the corner of your eye you see her place a hand on his arm.

“Oh, that’s too funny! You’re really funny... Sorry, what’s your name again?”

The man is unfazed, still grinning. “Callahan. Phil Callahan.”

He says it with such an atrocious Sean Connery accent, making Karen burst out laughing again, and it makes you smile, too.

“Oh, big James Bond fan, huh?” she says, her elbow on the table, chin in her hand.

“Oh, yeah, it’s why I became a cop.”

Your gaze darts to him. “You’re a cop?”

He raises his hands as he laughs. “Yeah, but, hey, you go on and drink as much as you want, I’m off duty now.”

Karen laughs and you make yourself join in, but your heart has started to beat a little faster.

Oh, stop it, he’s not here.

You take a quick sip of your drink again to cover the fact you aren’t laughing anymore, and then Callahan looks up, his grin widening somehow as he waves his hand frantically.

“Hey, boss, over here!”

Boss?

Boss.

The entire room seems to slow down as you turn your head and see a man, who’s stopped for a moment to shake hands with someone, with brown hair and a neatly clipped beard, wearing a brown leather jacket, plaid shirt and jeans, his eyebrows raised—

Oh, God.

Oh, shit.

Oh fucking Lord in the manger.

Callahan is slapping his hand against the vacant seat at the table, that happens to be close to you, practically shouting, “Hop’, here, saved ya a seat!”

You swiftly turn back around, staring at Karen. She’s frozen, staring at you, and for the next three seconds you somehow communicate an entire conversation with just your eyebrows and eyes.

Both of you seem to agree on fuuuuuuck.

You can’t just get up and leave, that would be the most obvious thing in the entire world. What if he doesn’t recognise you? Yeah, maybe you’ll be so incredibly fucking lucky and it’ll be a Christmas miracle and you’ll somehow have just disappeared from his memory.

Swallowing hard as you hear him move past a group behind you with an “Excuse me,” you rest your hands on the table, gripping them together.

“Hey, Callahan, where’s everybody else?”

Oh, his voice has changed. It’s deeper, rougher.

“Oh, well, Powell said he and his wife are gonna come later when he finishes his shift, and Jones, Davids and Williamson are over there, they’ve been waitin’ to get a drink for ages.” Callahan laughs delightedly, and Karen joins in, giving a slightly nervous one.

It draws Hopper’s attention and you don’t dare look up to see his expression but there’s a note of surprise in his tone.

“Karen, hey, you doin’ okay?”

“Yes, thank you.” And then she panics. “We’re just having a night out.” And then she panics more when she realises what she’s said, and that she’s gestured at you, her eyes as wide as her now somewhat manic smile.

Oh. God.

Lifting your head, you automatically smile, your features frozen.

“Hi.”

Hi.

He looks from Karen to you, and you’re suddenly subject to the full force of Jim Hopper’s gaze for the first time in decades.

Oh. God.

You can’t help it; the memories of the last time you saw him flood your mind.

“Hop’, are you even listening to me?”

He swiftly puts down the ball of rubberbands he’d been picking at on your desk, his eyebrows raised as he looks to you.

“Yeah, yeah, course I am.”

Your own eyebrows rise even higher, your hands lifted. “What, then?”

He tilts his head slightly, grazing his teeth over his lower lip. “’What’, what?”

“You weren’t fucking listening—”

“No, I was,” he quickly says at your weary sigh, leaning forward in the chair and resting his elbows on his knees, an easy smile pulling at his lips. “C’mon, just repeat the last part.”

You’d once found this all charming and endearing.

Your hands going to your waist, you exhale another breath before folding your arms, managing to calm yourself.

“What are you gonna do after school?”

Hop’ shrugs, leaning back again. “I don’t know. What are you gonna do?”

It was just the answer you’d feared, and expected. Licking your lips, you glance down at the carpet before steeling yourself and meeting his gaze again.

You can do this.

“I’m thinking of moving.”

He nods, his smile returning. “Okay, where?”

“I don’t know. New York, maybe. There’s jobs there and I have a friend there, I could stay with her for a bit.”

“Or we could get a place together.”

You stare at him, feeling your stomach twist.

“So... you’re, you’re just gonna follow me where I go.”

“Yeah.” His brow dips slightly, the smile still there, though it’s hesitant. “Aren’t girlfriends supposed to be happy when their boyfriends say that?”

“Yeah, but... What do you want to do?”

Hop’ shrugs again. “I don’t know. I know I wanna be with you, though.”

You’d once have quietly swooned at that and given him a fond smile. Now, though... You want more.

“Hop’, I don’t... I don’t wanna be one of those high school couples that just sticks together because they’re together. I want you to actually want this.”

He’s frowning again, confusion starting to set in. “I do.”

You say it quietly. “I don’t think you do.”

He stares at you, all traces of his smile gone. Then, he scoffs, leaning back in his chair a little more as he folds his arms.

“So now you’re tellin’ me what I do and don’t feel?”

“No, I just, I want you to have some drive, some ambition, not just go along with what I say and do.”

“I go along with it because it’s what I want.”

You can feel tears stinging at your eyes but your mind has also been made up.

“I don’t think it is, I just think it’s easy and safe for you.”

“Stop tellin’ me what I’m feelin’!”

His voice raising makes yours, too.

“Am I wrong?”

He looks at you like he has no idea who you are, and for some reason that really pisses you off because you don’t really recognise him anymore, either.

“Why are you pushing me away?!”

“I’m not, I—”

“Where has all this come from, then?!”

“I don’t know if I want this!”

Silence falls.

You swallow thickly as he stares at you, your voice cracking slightly.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, but... y’know, Karrie and Teddy, they... I look at them and at Joyce and Lonnie and they’re so happy, they know what they want, and they can’t wait to get married and settled down, here, but...”

“You don’t want that,” he finishes for you, quietly.

You speak after a moment, your tone matching his. “I don’t.”

“You don’t want me.”

That sends a knife through your heart because honestly? You have no idea.

Shaking your head, you close your eyes for a moment. “No, yes, I... I don’t know. I care so much about you, but... I just think we’re on different paths.”

His gaze drops as your words linger in the air. Clearing his throat, he glances up at you again.

“What if we just take a break, for a bit. Or I can come up and visit you, in New York.”

He’s just a boy, you suddenly think, your heart breaking.

Biting at your lower lip to stop it from trembling, you give a small shrug. “I think that wouldn’t be fair on us both.”

He nods slowly, his jaw moving, and you’ve never seen him this distant. Raising his eyebrows slightly, he stands.

“Seems you already had this all figured out.”

“No, no, I didn’t, I just don’t want to be unfair to you—”

“Could I have said anything that would have changed your mind?” His quiet words silence you, and you have to stifle a sob.

“... No.”

Hop gazes at you, and after several moments he nods. “Good luck with everything.”

You’d burst into tears the moment he’d left your room. The front door had slammed shut and as you’d sat on your bed and cried and cried you’d heard his car door slam, too. You’d cried for days, going between telling yourself you’d made a huge mistake, and then that you’d done what was best, that he didn’t appreciate you like he used to and it wasn’t your job to fix him and coach him through life and that... yeah, you’d fallen out of love with him.

You hadn’t just lost a boyfriend that day, though, you’d also lost your best friend.

You loved Karen but there was just something different about Hop’, something that made you feel safe and like you could tell him anything and he wouldn’t judge. As you’d moved away and the months had gone on, several triumphs and bad days had happened, and all you’d wanted to do was just pick up the phone to call him and tell him. You’d stopped yourself every time.

Then, at some unremarkable point, you’d just stopped getting that urge, and life had moved on.

Oh, it certainly had moved on.

You stare at him, trying to look without looking. You can still see the face of the teenager you once knew, though with the beard and the lines at the corners of his eyes he’s very much a man now.

God, is he a man.

He was tall when you’d known him, but is he taller now, somehow? Had he had another growth spurt in his twenties? His hands are huge, too, and he’d been confident back then but it had come from cockiness whereas now he just seems quietly so, more sure of himself.

And you have absolutely no idea what he’s thinking. He’s staring at you so expressionlessly that you believe for a moment or two he actually has forgotten you.

Then, he speaks

“Hey. Been a long time.”

Hey. Been. A. Long. Time.

Said like you didn’t once whisper “I love you” to each other and share every single secret you’d ever had.

Then again, all you’d been able to muster up was a ‘Hi’.

You’re still smiling and you don’t know how to stop.

“Yeah, it has.”

“How are you?”

“Fine, thank you, you?”

“Yeah, good. You home for the holidays?”

“Yep.”

He runs his fingers over his mouth as he nods, and oh my God, he’s attractive. Is he, or is it the alcohol?

Wanting to banish the thoughts from your mind and distract yourself, you quickly continue.

“I’m staying with Karen.”

“That’s nice.” It’s said absolutely expressionlessly. “Just ‘till the new year?”

“Uhm, indefinitely. I’m, I’m working, uh, going through, uh, I’m moving, at the moment.”

“Okay. Well, I hope it goes okay.”

Oh my God, he’s winding down the conversation. He’s gonna go.

And you’re still smiling.

“Thank you.”

Nodding, he glances at Callahan. “I’m gonna go and check in with the others, see how they are.”

Callahan just nods once, his gaze flicking from you to Hopper and back again with utter confusion.

Rising, Hopper glances from Karen to you.

“See you around.”

“Yeah, bye, happy holidays,” you answer, Karen possibly unable to speak.

His lips move slightly, possibly into a faint smile. “Yeah, to you, too.”

And then he walks away, heading for the bar. Staring at where he’d just been sat, a slightly strangled sound releases from the back of your throat.

“Oh my God, oh my God...”

Looking to Karen, a whole range of emotions are flashing across her face as she tries to find the most comforting one. She fails.

“Oh, babe, oh God, that was horrible.”

“I know, I just, I forgot how to have a conversation, my voice got so high.”

“It did, I don’t know why you did that.”

“Neither do I, oh my God...” Putting your head in your hands, you then quickly lift it after a moment, pressing your lips together as you raise your hands. “Whatever. It’s fine. Let’s just, please, move past it. It’s over, I got it out the way, it was civilised, it’s done.”

“You’re right, you’re so right, please let’s forget it. Let’s drink.”

“Yes, please.”

You tap your glass against Karen’s as she raises it, and both take a long drink.

Oh, God.

That had been... so uneventful you don’t quite know what to do with yourself. In all the times you’d thought about how this exact moment might go, you’d never thought it would be uneventful. You’d imagined yelling, or crying, sometimes even laughing, but this...

Well. It was really like it had meant nothing at all.

You don’t know why it’s getting to you so much. You broke up with him. Of course he’d have moved on and left it all behind, God, you have as well. You’ve both lived your lives, gone through so many things and come out the other side and... A break up when you were teenagers kind of pales in comparison.

Yeah. It’s all fine. In fact, you know what, you’re relieved. It’s mature. It’s done. That’s it. You don’t have to be best friends with him again, for fuck’s sake.

Lowering your drink, you don’t realise your internal monologue has played out on your face, eyes widening and narrowing. Looking up, you find Karen and Callahan staring at you.

Licking your lips, you shrug. “It’s fine. It’s fine. Who wants another drink?”

You’re out of your seat and heading to the bar before they can respond. Karen sits back in her chair as she blinks, watching you stride away.

“Can someone just please tell me what’s going on?” Callahan bursts out, his hands raised.

“Oh, God, sweetie...” Karen sighs, reaching for her drink again. “... I have no fucking clue.”

—————————————————————————————————

24th December 1982

“Ughhh... Oh, God...”

It’s not your own groaning that wakes you, but that of someone else.

Cracking open an eye, you stare up at the ceiling as the groaning continues.

Uh, my mouth is so dry...

Licking your lips, you turn your head and find Karen on the other side of the bed, her hair bedraggled and spilling across the pillow, mascara halfway down her face, lipstick smeared. Turning her own head, she looks at you and groans again.

“Am I alive?”

“I think so,” you rasp, and she groans mournfully.

“Ughhhh... I don’t even remember how we got home...”

Closing your eyes, you scratch at your forehead, trying to remember yourself.

You’d gone to the bar, drank, drank a lot, maybe danced a little, spoken with your old classmate, Jessica? Justine? and then... Oh, what was his name again...

“Callahan,” you murmur, your throat aching. “Callahan brought us home.”

“Oh, yeah... Didn’t we ask him to turn on his lights?”

Your lips twitch as you recall how you’d both screamed with joy and whooped and cheered as he’d turned on the lights, waving your arms from side to side.

You snort and she glances at you. A laugh escapes you as you think about the absurdity of it all, and then she’s laughing, too, her cackle loud and delighted.

“Oh my God... Ugh, that was fun...” she sighs, her smile lingering.

“Yeah...” you murmur, stretching your legs out.

“We’ll have fun tonight, too.” She pats your hand, exhaling a breath. “If we just... If we just sleep ‘till noon, and then we can start preparing the house... Maybe even two, it won’t take long...”

You hum, closing your eyes, and, yeah, sleeping a little longer does sound like a good idea... Besides, when you’re unconscious, you don’t have to think about a certain embarrassing event that happened...

Perfect.

You focus on the softness of the bed as Karen snores lightly beside you, already fast asleep... Yeah... the joy of unconsciousness...

—

“... Jingle bell, jingle bell, jingle bell rock... Jingle bells swing and jingle bells ring... Snowin' and blowin' up bushels of fun... Now the jingle hop has begun...”

Adjusting a plate on the table, you straighten and blow out a breath, trying to stifle a yawn.

I really can’t handle a night out anymore.

Brushing your hands together, you turn, surveying the party that’s in full-swing. It’s only a couple of hours in but it’s already a success. People are talking, laughing, dancing, singing, eating, drinking, having a merry old time in general really. You feel more proud than you would have thought as your gaze drifts across the room.

You’d had to shake Karen awake at half one, both of you practically dehydrated and feeling not so fresh. After drinking copious amounts of water, showering, changing and finally eating, realising you were both starving, you’d flown around the house together, tidying, cleaning, cooking up food, putting drinks out and decorating. It had been another whirlwind but a wonderful whirlwind. You’d had so much fun, and hadn’t thought once about The Incident. An hour before the party was due to start, you and Karen had gotten ready, selecting slightly more festive outfits than the ones you’d worn last night.

Now, she’s in the kitchen, laughing at something a neighbour is saying, while Mike and Nancy talk in separate corners with some of their friends who have turned up, and Ted, who’d you’d finally bumped in to and greeted, was sat in his armchair, talking with a guy who looked slightly desperate to get away.

The doorbell chimes and you catch Karen’s eye, waving your hand and mouthing, “I’ll get it,”, as you’ve done so for the last few chimes.

You have to carefully push your way past people on the way to the foyer, which is surprisingly empty. Moving to the door, you grip the handle and pull it open, a smile already on your lips.

“Hey—”

You cut yourself off, pausing as you stare up at the man.

Hopper stares back at you, shoulders slightly hunched from the cold, hands in his pockets.

"Hi,” he says, glancing behind you briefly.

"Hey,” you repeat, your heart pounding.

... Whaaaaaat is he doing here?

As if he’s somehow heard your thought, he clears his throat and raises his eyebrows a little. “Uh, Callahan said we were invited.”

Oh, fuck, yes, you’d forgotten Karen had insisted he come, and you, jokingly, had said, ‘Hey, why not invite Hopper, too?’

Haha. Ha. What a hilarious joke. What a hilarious little joke that Callahan clearly hadn’t taken as a joke so it is now real.

Just as you realise you haven’t answered him, he clears his throat again. “Should I—”

“Oh, no, God, sorry, come in.” Holding the door open, you step back, gesturing with your other hand into the foyer.

He steps in, glancing at the party beyond before he turns to you as you close the door, looking up at him.

You’re staring again.

Swallowing, you point at the stairs. “Uh, coats are up here, I’ll show you.”

Before he can answer, you stride to the steps and ascend, gripping the bannister.

Ooh... Ooh, what’s happening... What am I doing...

You’ve shown the last few people up to where the coats are being kept, just in case you can’t see them out, but this is... This is rather intimate.

You hear him behind you, following you up, and you make yourself exhale a long breath to try and calm your heart.

Be an adult.

The coats are being kept where they usually would at a Wheeler party; the guest room, AKA your room. It’s one of the reasons you’ve been basically escorting people up to it, not wanting them to linger in there or have a stranger possibly go through your things.

Pushing the door open, you step in to the dimly lit room and gesture at the bed that’s piled high with coats, scarves and jackets.

“Just here, leave it anywhere.”

He stands in the doorway, hands back in his pockets.

“I’m actually not stayin’ long, I’ve got a shift soon.”

Your hands drop. “Oh. Okay...” You can’t stop a slight frown from crossing your features. “Why did you come up, then?”

Hopper meets your gaze, his jaw moving minutely. “‘cause I want to talk to you.”

“Oh.”

Oh.

You’re sweating, your fingers flexing by your side.

Okay, here we go, he’s gonna yell at me and tell me everything he’s been holding back, here we go...

Shifting his stance, he leans against the doorframe, his gaze holding yours. “Listen, last night, I... I’m sorry I left so abruptly. That wasn’t, uh... polite of me.”

... Well, that’s not what you’d expected.

Your lips parted, you gaze at him. “Uh, no, no, no, it’s fine, I, I completely get it. It’s, uhm...” You pause, swallowing. Then, you smile faintly, and just say it, your voice dropping slightly. “... It’s weird, isn’t it.”

“Yeah. Fuck, yeah, it is.” He lets out a laugh, and for some reason the sound of it warms you. “I was a little taken aback when I saw you, I was totally unprepared.”

“Oh, me, too.” You exhale a laugh, your smile easing. “I wanted to say so many things but my brain wasn’t quite connected to my mouth.” You laugh again, though it’s more nervous this time, because you know if you don’t say it now, you never will. Your tongue gliding across your lips, you raise your hands a little. “Look, Hop, I...” Fuck, it feels strange saying his name again. “... I’m sorry for how things ended between us.”

Hopper’s already shaking his head before you’ve finished, a slight dip to his brow. “Don’t be. I think it was the kick up the ass I needed, and I knew you were right. Took me a little while to admit that, but, yeah.”

“Still, I could have given us a chance—”

“We were kids,” he cuts you off gently with a light smile, shrugging. “Neither of us knew what we were doin’ or how to handle somethin’ like that.”

You snort. “I still don’t.”

A corner of his mouth lifts a little higher. “Yeah, me, too.” Grazing his teeth over his lower lip, you watch him as he seems to consider something, your cheeks heating slightly at his intense gaze. “... Stop me if I’m, uh, treadin’ where I shouldn’t, but, and I’m just connectin’ the dots here, you said you’re stayin’ in Hawkins indefinitely, is that because something similar has happened?”

You give a faint smile, pointing a finger at him as you raise your eyebrows. “Yeah, you got me. I, uhm...” Here we go... “... I broke up with my fiancé. Or, he broke up with me, actually.” Your smile widens a little more. “Good connecting, you must be a great Chief.”

“Well, I do my best.” He looks sympathetic in a way that is mercifully not pitying. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Thanks. I feel like shit every day, but, it was for the best. He was an asshole. I just didn’t want to see it.”

“How come he did the breaking up, then?”

You fold your arms, exhaling a breath. “He met someone else. Didn’t even bother to hide it or save my feelings. Just told me.”

“That sucks.”

“Yeah, it really did.”

“Still,” he nods his head at you, “you seem much better off.”

You feel a little proud at that, because, actually, you feel like a mess. “Thanks. Karen’s letting me stay here until I figure out what I wanna do. I don’t even know if I like my job anymore or if it’s just everything that’s going on making me feel like I hate it, or maybe I have hated it for a while and I just don’t want to admit that to myself either.” You catch yourself from continuing, releasing a sheepish laugh. “I’m sorry, I’m just rambling on now, you can go back down—”

“Nah, it’s okay, I like listenin’ to you.”

He says it so sincerely, holding your gaze, that you don’t quite know what to do. Biting at your lower lip briefly, you look away for a few moments, your fingers twisting together.

“Well... Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

You can hear the smile in his tone, so you look up, and God...

You’ve missed that smile.

His expression is so soft, too, so gentle and...

No, no, no, no... No, it’s just because you’re sad and it’s Christmas and—

Clearing his throat, he leans an arm against the chest of drawers beside the door.

“Y’know, I... I’ve thought about you over the years, thought about reachin’ out. I heard from someone years ago that you were in New York and I... I told myself I was gonna look you up but... I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. Didn’t know if you’d even want to see me.”

A smile pulls at your lips, your chest aching slightly. “I think I would have.” Biting at your lower lip again, you take a breath. “... I’ve thought about you, too. Sometimes I think about if I made the biggest mistake of my life in leaving you.”

He blinks, before quickly smiling, shaking his head. “Like I said, we were just kids. We didn’t know any better.”

“I know.”

You’re gazing at each other again, quietly.

Don’t.

Clearing your throat, you make yourself smile. “I’m so sorry, I should have offered you a drink, I—”

“Would you like to go out for a drink?” he asks, so swiftly that it’s as if he’d been waiting to. “So we can catch up properly?”

Staring at him, you feel something quietly ignite within you. He looks somewhat nervous, and for some reason it calms you instantly.

A softer smile returning to your lips, you nod. “I’d like that.”

One corner of his mouth lifts a little higher than the other as he straightens, his hands falling to his sides. “Good. Okay. I’ll call. I gotta head out now, sorry, I just wanted to drop by before my shift.”

He wanted to drop by... to see me.

Trying to contain your smile, you move towards him, heading for the door. “It’s okay, I’ll walk you out.”

“Thanks.”

You head down the hallway and stairs in silence, your heart fluttering wildly. You’re suddenly very aware of your body, and of his right behind you, and oh my God, when was the last time I felt this way?

Pulling the door open, you hold it for him as you smile.

“Well, I hope your shift goes okay.”

“Thanks.”

He’s stood before you, a hand in his pocket, and he doesn’t move.

Then, his other hand moves to rest on your arm gently as he lowers his head and presses a soft kiss to your cheek.

Oh, fuck.

His lips brushing against your skin makes your heart stop and every inch of your skin warm. It’s brief, far too brief, and when he pulls his head back to look at you, you desperately hope you don’t look as flustered as you feel.

Giving a slightly breathless smile, you hold his gaze. “Merry Christmas, Hop’.”

The smile he gives in return has you feeling a way you know you haven’t in years.

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart.”

—————————————————————————————————

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Tagged: @herb-welch, @punkpascal @davidkharboursex, @jobean12-blog, @warmbeardsandredwine, @mademoiselle-black, @scrunchinn, @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash, @divadinag, @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan, @deepsouth, @neganslittlebae, @ashphoenix105, @alahmorah, @daughterofthebrowncoats, @letsby, @tbkc, @kiwiphroot, @ashmely, @sistasarah-sallysaidso, @unicornsandgliiitter, @lucifer-in-leather, @heyjudeinthesky, @sleepylunarwolf, @ambeazyyy, @countryfire22, @sithlordslut, @mondsafari, @norcula, @earinafae, @beltzboys2015-blog, @jinxiejenna, @justsimplevicky, @hellosupernaturaldoctor, @ginasellsbooks, @dwarvenbunnyears, @vale0413, @mrslydiaholden, @kimberliinabox, @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindly, @allylupin, @cant-shake-this-feeling-off, @the-bitch-gotham-deserves, @warriorqueen1991, @thesurestthing, @zuni21798, @quietlovelovely, @maddieisaboredable, @windinyoursnail, @happy-hopper, @yedi16, @negansdirtygirl22, @slipperywhenwetsstuff, @my-rosegold-soul @madkskillz, @im-not-great-at-making-up-names, @sergeantangel, @bitchinsinclair, @dewy-biitch, @focusonspn, @wearethebrokenones, @sarcasm-is-my-native-tounge, @thatprettymvthafvcka, @pulplorrd, @gifsbysimplysonia, @opalsandlacemain @geordiequeen, @gothackedalready, @ayatimascd, @missaudreyhorney, @chiefharbour, @l0ve-0f-my-life, @saltandroot

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#jim hopper x reader #jim hopper x you #hopper x reader #chief jim hopper x reader #stranger things fic #hopper x you #my writing #flamehairedwritings #pheeewwww #just a lil something to ease back in

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sweatergirlsposts · 4 years ago

Text

Imagine Nancy Trying To Find You After The Events at The Star Court Mall

Title: My Savior

Pairing: Nancy Wheeler x Fem Plus-Size!Reader

Request By: @soggy-enchilada

Warning: Mention of Blood and little angst

Worry is all that flooded Nancy’s mind.

The disappearance of so many people, due to the events at Start Court Mall, made the town distraught as they tried to find their loved ones. So many were consumed and flayed to make the body mass of the mindflayer. Nancy knew that everyone in her family was safe as they went back home after the event of that night but there was one person she was fretting over. You.

You, her axe wielding outdoorsy rescuer who she secretly was smitten for. When Johnathan and Nancy went out looking for Barb and Will, you had been in the area. You were collecting wood for your hidden cottage when you felt yourself being watched. Dropping the forgotten kindling on the forest floor, you held you axe in hand to protect you from whatever unknown that was in the forest.

“NANCY!”

“JOHNATHAN!”

You heard screams coming from not too far away.

‘What the hell are people doing out so late in the forest?!’ you thought. At least you knew the forest like the back of your hand, unlike the locals who were out here with you. Still being cautious about whatever was watching, you followed the sound of the screams holding your axe ready to attack.

You found the boy first. Slightly lanky in posture, bowl cut hair, adorned in a black jean jacket and flashlight in hand. A foul smell lingered in the air of similar odor to decaying animal flesh. You noted the smell earlier when you first ventured into the woods that night but never thought to go investigate. The smell was the strongest here.

“Nancy?” the boy called out getting on all fours in front of a tree. You observed from behind a tree close by, wondering why he was talking to the stump part of the tree. Not to seconds later you could see a hand emerge from the stump, making the boy jump backwards. From your view from behind a substantial tree, it scared you half to death to see a slimy small human hand emerge from the tree. You crouch down in the wilderness, slowly making your way closer to what’s happening. You wanted to be close enough if you had to step in but far enough to be able to run away.

“JOHNATHAN!” a voice screamed coming from the tree. Johnathan, you assumed, responded immediately after being startled by the hand before calling out to the voice.

“Nancy!?” Johnathan scrambled to reach for the hand popping out of tree and started pulling like he was in a game of tug-o-war. Pulling with all his might, he dragged her out from the slimy abyss in the tree, and she landed on top of his form.

Thinking that she was free, Nancy let out a long held frightened sigh at what just happened to her. Where did she go? What was that thing?! Flooded her shaken mind. All that mattered was that she was out of there and was now safe.......or so she thought.

Gone without notice to the locals, except you, materialized an appendage of some sort that reached through the flesh veiled cavity. What looked to be a clawed hand unfurled from the form of a fist and seized the teenage girl by the foot.

‘It’s got me,’ is the only singular thought that popped into Nancy’s brain as she felt her heart drop to the bottom of her toes where the creature had a grasp on her and tugged. Nancy let out a yelp as she felt herself being tugged backwards towards the hole, startling Johnathan. It took him a couple of seconds to realize until he felt Nancy being pulled off of him.

“Hold on Nance!” Johnathan clambered back onto his feet before grabbing under her arms and tugged back. The creature was strong and Johnathan could feel his feet starting to give out beneath him.

“Don’t let me go!”

“I won’t!”

It was now or never you thought. You let the creature get to the locals or you help out. You chose the latter. You ran from behind your new hiding spot behind a fallen tree, axe glistening in the moonlight, ready to help the locals.

Too focused on the monster grabbing Nancy’s leg, neither Johnathan and Nancy noticed your incoming approach. Johnathan gave one massive tug, exposing the arm further out from the decaying hole.

You wound up for the swing, axe coming from directly behind your head down onto the creatures extremity. Clean cut to the bone off came whatever limb that tried to grab the poor girls leg. Thank god you had sharpened your axe that morning.

The creature let out a haunting shriek feeling the detachment of it’s limb to it’s body and retreated the rest of the limb back to through the flesh veil.

You looked at where the girl was pulled out of. It was some type of fleshly decaying hole that was closing as to be no longer used and revert back into the bark and wood it originally was.

The detached hand laid limp on the ground. You bring the axe down one more time to make sure that it wouldn’t suddenly start moving. You had seen John Carpenter’s ‘The Thing’ too many times to know to always make sure it was really dead. You could feel small splotches of blood from the creature on your round cheeks as if they were supposed to be freckles.

You took a couple of breaths trying to calm down from the sudden adrenaline rush before turning to the two horrified teenagers still on the ground.

You dropped the axe to the side to make yourself less intimidating to them and spoke, “What the hell are you guys doing out here?”

“We could ask you the same,” spoke Johnathan.

“I live out here,” you stopped before offering each of them a hand. They looked at each other and then decided to take your hand. Johnathan got up with your help fine, but Nancy stumbled into your stocky form.

“Woah there, you’re probably feeling some effects of shock...” you trailed off trying to get a name from the girl

“Nancy, and this is Johnathan,” she motioned to Johnathan behind her as she moved back from you regaining her footing, “How did you find us?”

“Well when your screaming bloody murder it’s not that hard to find someone. You guys had let the whole forest know you’re out here. You guys should come with me if you want to survive the night out here,” you warned them.

Nancy could feel the genuineness in your words, after all you just saved her from that thing. Nancy was about to take a step forward to follow you, but Johnathan held out an arm to stop her.

“Wait. Why should we go with you?” Johnathan sized you up, trying to tell if you had other intentions. You didn’t like when people would give you once overs, especially after you save their life.

“Do I need to remind you that I just saved you and your friend here,” you scoffed, “besides I know the forest like the back of my hand. I can show you back wherever you came from in the morning, it’s too dangerous to go now. I have a cottage that’s a five minute walk from here, but it’s fine by me if you get lost. I was just trying to help,” you picked up your axe and rotated to the walking direction of your cabin.

“Wait we’re coming,” Nancy spoke up gathering her bearings and grabbing Johnathan by the arm and dragging him along.

Nancy was thankful that she followed back to your cottage instead of getting lost that night in the woods. Over the next two years, Nancy would visit once a week. Being saved from a monster can really bond two people together.

A lot of the time she would help tend to the greenery placed in your cottage. You had an affinity for growing plants, flowers, and natural herbs in your house. In addition to your indoor plants, you kept a small self built green house in the back where you held all your vegetables and fruits. In the spring and summer, elegant colourful flowers would surround your property like it had came straight out of a fairy-tale.

Being around you was very calming, Nancy thought in comparison to the monster hunting life, it was peaceful almost. She could see why you liked living here in the woods.

You told her that your parents had home schooled you in the cabin up until last year when they had their ‘car accident’. There was two reasons why you stayed out of suburban Hawkins and lived in the forest you told her. You stayed because it’s your parents house and it was the only thing you had let of them and you don’t think that Hawkins would be very accepting of you per say.

You waited a year of knowing Nancy, before you officially told her of your liking towards the same sex. Instead of revolting away in disgust or showing if she uncomfortable, she sat there shocked, not in a bad way but just in surprise. You told that she wouldn’t have to worry about you liking her or any of the sort, you told her that you just wanted to get it off your chest.

It might have stopped your crush from ever growing bigger than it already was on Nancy but it didn’t stop hers. Yes she might have went out with Steve and Johnathan, and liked being with them, but that didn’t stop from hiding her curiosity towards you.

Nancy was worried when she hadn't heard from you in the days leading up to the battle of Star Court, but she was so caught up in everything that she didn’t have time to make a trip out to you in the forest. When she learned that Brimborn Steel Works, the breeding ground for the mind-flayer was near your property, she hopped into her mom’s station wagon and sped to your property, giving no regard for the speed limit on the road.

Pulling up onto the dirt road path that lead up to your house, she spotted your red Chevy LUV pickup at the side of the cottage in it’s usual spot. That meant one of two things to Nancy. You were either inside live and well tending to your plants or not inside at all and had been taken by Billy Hargrove to be used by-

Nancy didn’t even want to think of the possibility of you being dead.

Nancy pulled on the sleeves of the sweater she wore. It was actually your sweater. You gave her the sweater that night as something temporary to use for clothing instead of wearing the mucus-caked one’s she had on. It was a bit big on her petite form but kept her warm nonetheless. She never really gave it back, but you didn’t mind her wearing it. It looked better on her, you’d believe as you’d try to suppress a smile.

Nancy got out of the and took notice that the flowers had been wilting while some had died and looked to be rotted.....just like the pumpkins on the Wright farm pumpkin patch last year.

Nance could feel the spike of fear stabbing her heart and rushed over to your front door banging on it to see if you were home.

“(Y/N)! (Y/N)” Nancy shouted still pounding of the door.

No use. Nance went to the side window where your bedroom was. Everything looked still and untouched in your bedroom. On the inside window sill sat the small fern plant that Nancy had bought you for your birthday a couple months ago. The fern was no longer a bright and lively green but now shriveled and looking ready to turn to dust.

Nancy went back to your front door and tried banging again. No answer. You would have answered though. The only people that visited you were her and Johnathan.

‘No answer, wilted flowers, dead fern, untouched room, no answer, rotten flowers, dead fern, untouched room’

Nancy collapsed to the ground knowing the worst happened.

It got you.

Quiet sobs racked her form as she felt her heart rip string by string. She lost her savior.

You had just finished cutting down logs for the day in the forest. Wheelbarrowing them back to the cottage, you noticed Nancy’s mom’s station wagon on your dirt path. You put the wheelbarrow down and jogged down the path to your cottage.

You were so worried about Nancy(more than anyone) and everyone especially since the steel works was on your way to town and you knew that that thing was there. You didn’t want to risk going into town if it meant risking your life against that abomination. You guess that they took care of it if that meant Nancy is here.

You looked at your porch as you jogged to your cottage and notice a petite form, one that you could recognize anywhere, curled in a ball on it.

“NANCY!” you shouted still jogging over, “NANCY!”

She heard her name and lifted her head. There you were, coming over like a dream that she made up in her head to console her about your death. But you were too real for her to be imagining right then. She wiped the tear tracks from her face and then clambered to get up and run to you.

Nancy ran into you not wasting any second longer to be consoled by you in your comforting soft arms.

“I thought you were dead!” Nancy cried into strong shoulder, hugging you, “Please don’t ever scare me like that (Y/N)! I can’t loose you”

“Hey, hey it’s alright Nancy Drew. I’m here, I’m alive” you pressed a comforting kiss against her forehead.

“But but the flowers! You didn’t answer, I thought they took you,” Nancy whimpered still in slight hysterics.

“Nance everything is okay, well maybe not the flowers, but I’m fine. I was just out chopping wood. I had to make some of the flowers wilt in case anyone came around and thought I was here and take me. But hey, I’m not going anywhere,” you leaned your forehead against hers

“Promise?”

“What kind of savior would I be?”.

MASTERLIST

#nancy wheeler #nancy wheeler x reader #nancy wheeler imagine #nancy wheeler imagines #nancy wheeler oneshot #stranger things #stranger things imagines #stranger things season 3 #stranger things season 1 #stranger things x reader #nancy wheeler x fem!reader #nancy wheeler x plus-size!reader #nancy wheeler x plus size!reader #nancy wheeler x plussize!reader #x reader #reader #imagines

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