#the only ties they keep to Hawkins are to the kids and surprisingly Jonathan

[artiststarme]

There wasn’t much left for Eddie in Hawkins after the events of that harrowing Spring Break. He woke up in the hospital to an empty room filled with pain. His broken ribs creaked and aches with each breath, a result of three rounds of CPR delivered by Steve’s hands he later found out, and even moving took all of his energy, a consequence of excessive blood loss via bat attack.

Before he could get his bearings, a flurry of government officials, cops, and mobs brimming with hatred surrounded him. Instead of being grateful for his miraculous survival like the kids were, they shoved him in a jail cell. He spent two weeks in a jail cell, being punished for a crime he didn’t commit and suffering nightmares on top of the already nightmarish situation.

Even when he’s freed from his cell due to Hopper’s demands and the righteous fury of both Steve and Robin, he’s only released into the prison of Hawkins. He had to stay in his trailer day in and day out to avoid people’s revenge and beatings. The kids were barred from seeing him by their parents, too afraid to have their children associating with the monster that might’ve killed those poor teens.

Wayne got fired from the plant after facing backlash and discrimination due to being related to “The Murdering Satantic Worshipper”. Soon enough, both Munsons were pariahs. Jobless, ridiculed, and harassed by the town they’d lived in for years, they had no real choice but to leave.

But when Eddie told Steve they were leaving, Steve refused to be left behind. He’d lost relationships in the past due to not fighting enough, he wouldn’t make the same mistake. When the time comes, Eddie, Wayne, and Steve pack up their vehicles and make their way out of the town that never understood them. One day, they might go back but until then, they would live the best lives they could in the only way they knew how. Together.

[wordynerdygurl]

See How They Run

Author’s Note:  Well- Happy Halloween!  Here’s my sequel to Mousetrap and I hope you enjoy! Pairing:  Plus Size Reader x Steve & Eddie

Summary:  It’s Halloween Night and you’re supposed to be watching Horror Movies with your friends, that is until things get distracting. Warnings:  DUB CON - dubious consent, my friends.  If this ain’t your bag, I respect that, but you’ve been told!  SMUT ensues!

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See How They Run - A Hawkins Halloween Sexy Story

Why had you come?  That was the right question to ask yourself as you move through Steve’s living room once more, Halloween and its unforgettable party already days behind you.  If Robin hadn’t insisted on a Horror movie night, almost bullying you into joining her, you wouldn’t have bothered leaving the house.

Since the night of Steve’s party, you’ve been struggling, to say the least.  Your mind keeps going a mile a minute, head full of thoughts too snarled to untangle, and the worst part was you couldn’t seem to get the memory of Eddie and Steve out of your mind.  Something about Eddie’s controlling grip and Steve’s stern instructions, the powerful way that they kissed you into submission- you weren’t sure if you would ever be able to put it behind you.  And what’s worse?  You weren’t entirely certain that you wanted to.

You had kept it to yourself, not even telling Robin, the person you normally blabbed everything too.  And boy, had she tried to break through the mental fog you have been living under since that fateful night.  Robin worked every angle, using every trick she knew to get you talking and when it didn’t yield any results, she’d put her foot down, demanding your attendance at tonight’s mini-movie marathon or face the ending of your friendship. That was a threat with bite, so you had pulled on some jeans and the baggiest sweatshirt you could find, going to great lengths to make yourself look as unappealing as possible.  You had no desire to tempt fate or the two boys who had so recently used your compromised situation to their advantage.  Instead, you swallowed down your regrets, tied up your Keds and agreed to meet your best friend at Steve’s place. Which is why your guilty conscience was on double duty as you pulled into the driveway.  You know that she only wants to help, be supportive, but how could you tell her about the complicated feelings that warred inside of you?  How can you explain what you don’t understand, at least not fully? Because the awful truth is this:  you know, deep down, that you should not have liked what happened to you in Steve Harrington’s living room.  You shouldn’t have enjoyed the sore stretch of your muscles the next day or the lavender marks along your thighs.  

And you absolutely should not be getting wet at remembering the sounds you made when you were trapped under Eddie.  Or touch yourself when you recall Steve’s demeaning demands.  Above all that, you shouldn’t become aroused at the idea that it could happen again.  In fact, you really should stop thinking about it all together.  Being taken like that, pleasure pulled from you when you least expect it, was something that should have made you angry.  It should have sickened you, maybe hurt your feelings, considering what was said and what was done.  Only, it didn’t.  Not even a little bit. You didn’t want it to happen again.  At least you think you don’t.  And that’s why avoiding your best friend and by extension, Steve and Eddie, has been your key to survival.  You can stay out of trouble if you can stay away from the troublemakers, right? Clearly, you had no business being around Steve and Eddie.  Not tonight.  Not right now, when your heart and head were at odds.  But still, you were already walking towards Steve’s open door, head down as you wonder, who will win?  Your needy body or your wounded pride? Surprisingly, it was going to be a small group tonight and that was not ideal.  You were expecting, well, everyone:  Nancy, Jonathan, the Sinclair kids, Dustin.  Instead, you were in for a night of concentrated time with Robin, Steve and Eddie and that was going to make this evening that much harder.  Inhaling a deep breath, you made a promise to yourself:  Keep your eyes on the movie, your hands to yourself, and your clothes on.  If you could do that then you would be just fine. The second you step inside Eddie’s eyes are on you, following every move you make, the same way a hungry dog tracks its dinner.  Before too long he’s at your side, crowding your personal space, “Hey babe!  How ya been?” His hug squeezes you hard, your breasts pinned to his broad chest until you wheeze, “Oof- Good Eddie.  You?” Low, so only you can hear, Eddie hums, “Better now that you’re here, little mouse.”

Swallowing hard, you peer up at him, eyes rounding at his chosen term of endearment.  Is that how he sees you still?  A little mouse, easy to corner, easy to cage?  Steve, so casual, so cool, welcomes you with hugs and smiles, his look lingering on you just a bit longer than you think it should but before you can address it, his attention is called away to answer the ringing phone.  You take it as a sign from some benevolent universal force and are grateful for the intervention, sneaking towards a comfy spot on the sofa and you hope out of everyone else’s way. Only, Eddie beats you there, wrapping his strong arm around your waist in an overly familiar way that makes you suck in a breath, “Whoa!” “What?  Sit down already!”  Flopping against the arm of the couch, he pulls you down next to him, his forearm laying across your shoulders.  It’s a friendly posture, one you’ve enjoyed countless times, but tonight it just feels weird.  Too familiar.  Too close.  You don’t get much time to think about it because Steve enters the room carrying an overfilled bowl of popcorn, a bag of Halloween sized peanut butter cups and a smile.  He’s crammed half a dozen Coke cans into his jean pockets and is hugging two bags of chips in his arms “Robin’s out.  Something about staying home on candy duty.  Looks like it’s just the three of us.”  Wait, what?  You can’t quite believe what he’s saying.  Robin was ditching you?  Oh, no.  The wave of nervous heat that rolls through you makes sweat break out across your brow.  Worry reflects on your face as you flash your gaze between both guys, “Um, maybe I should go- let you have your boys night.”

But the second it leaves your lips, you realize it’s not the answer that Eddie or Steve were looking for; you watched four eyes cloud over with a rolling fog of regret, two sets of perfectly plump lips pouting in unison.  No, if you leave now there will be questions.  Questions you don’t want to answer.  Questions you don’t think can ever be answered.  Steve takes the open seat next to you, laying out all the junk food he’s setting up, “Aw, babe, don’t go!  You can’t!  I got all the good stuff- candy, Doritos, there’s beer in the fridge.  And, uh, and, I grabbed your favorite-” Together you say, “Friday the 13th.”  He looks so sweet, teasing you like this with those brown eyes shining, his smile full of fun.  Your old friend Steve is back.  When he looks at you like this it’s difficult to remember why you feel so uncomfortable around him.  It’s hard to recall why you didn’t want to come and watch scary flicks while getting sick on the worst food imaginable.  It’s only Steve, after all, who looks at you almost pleading, hair falling over his face, “Why would you wanna leave me all alone on Halloween with Munson, huh?” “Yea, don’t know if I can trust Steve to keep his hands to himself if you’re not here to chaperone.”  Eddie adds his tart two cents, reaching for a bag of M&Ms before tearing the package open with his teeth. This is not a good idea.  Your brain is shouting at you to get up.  Go.  Leave.  Hadn’t you given yourself rules to follow?  If only you could remember them right now.  Silence grows around the three of you, your brain working overtime to sort out right from wrong.  Steve and Eddie though, they figure on waiting you out.  You’re too nice, Little Mouse.  Too sweet to deny them, especially when they ask you to hang around, all by yourself, so nicely. Shifting on the sofa, you know you’re going to stay and you kind of hate yourself for it.  How could you possibly say no now?  A heavy sigh falls from your lips as you struggle for a playful tone, “Well, if it means you’re not trapped with Eddie all night, I guess I can- uh, hang out.  For, for a little while, at least.”  Only, you do need a little room, a little space away from the scent of smoked weed and Brut that follows Eddie everywhere and the cloying clean smell of Harrington’s Tide.  No, you need distance and you need it right now.  You start to stand up, only to feel a strong hand on your wrist, pulling you back, “Where ya going, doll?”  This time it’s Eddie, puppy dog look on his face, the chain bracelet he wears clanging.  There’s a fancy, comfortable, easy chair just a bit closer to the television and you’re mad that you didn’t take that seat first.  Now, it’s exactly where you want to be- sitting alone and out of the reach of your two friends. “Um, the recliner?”  Too soft, your voice sounds so little when you answer, like you’re asking his permission when you should be declaring your intentions. Steve pats the empty spot between the boys, “Uh, no.  If you sit over there, who’s gonna keep you safe from Jason, huh?  Plus, you won’t be able to reach the popcorn bowl.” Finding your bottom lip, your top teeth pinch into it cruelly.  That trapped feeling fills you again and you realize that your resolve is crumbling under the begging looks from two sets of burnt caramel colored eyes in the dim light of Steve’s family room.  Tugging at your hand, Eddie pulls you closer, “Just sit with us.  Please?”  But you don’t move.  You sway on your feet, still struggling to decide how far to give in, when Eddie yanks again, “Pretty please?  With sugar on top?” It makes you smile.  You wish to heaven it didn’t, but something in his youthful phrasing makes you think about ice cream cones on the park bench and daring each other to climb trees.  When he swings your hand again, you give in, allowing Eddie to settle you on the couch between him and Steve. Using the remote, Steve pushes play and the screen fills with the horror flick you like the most.  Hyper-focusing, you don’t let your eyes wander from the television.  You don’t wanna know what Steve and Eddie are doing.  “Popcorn?”  Eddie asks, without looking at you, holding the bowl in front of you. “Sure.”  Somehow, the bowl winds up in your lap, two broad boy hands grabbing at kernels as the opening scene starts rolling.  Eddie shifts near enough that his thigh is pressed hard against yours, cuddling you closer with an arm around you, as if you were on some sort of date.  Steve’s just as close, tucked into your side, so you angle yourself into the warm space where Eddie’s arm meets his torso in order to stay comfortable almost without thought. But that creates another problem.  Resting on your hip, you need a place to tuck your toes now that Eddie’s practically curled you to him.  Fidgeting, you’re stopped by Steve’s firm hand over your socked feet, “Here.  Get comfortable, k?” Plopping them into his lap, he expands to take up even more space on the sofa, covering your tootsies with wide palms.  And that’s how you wind up nearly laying across both of them, the bowl of popcorn in your arms forgotten as Eddie begins running his fingers through your hair, stopping to rub behind your ears until you hum out a relaxed sigh.  Steve’s hands gently knead at the soles of your feet, eyes focused on the film, but aware of the way you melt under his touch.

It’s nice, being petted with soft hands and soothing touches.  For a second you let your guard down, just enjoying the comfortable sensation of snuggling with your boys.  Sighing contentedly, you wiggle further into the couch, feeling better than you have since you last saw Steve and Eddie. Eddie gets bolder.  Skating under the heavy fabric of your sweatshirt, his calloused fingertips graze your ribs.  He lets his hand trail down your arm, thumb working in small circles, first on the outside of your arm, then sliding against the soft, sensitive underside.  It sends shivers down your spine, the kind which settle in your abdomen, making your muscles tense.  Reason takes over so, pressing against his leg, you make a move to reposition yourself, but he shushes you, his soft voice in your ear, “Sorry baby, does it tickle?” “Um, kinda, but-” Your sentence is cut short by the climbing reach of Steve’s hand.  His sweeping massage has skated high enough that he’s rubbing the tender flesh of your inner thighs over your jeans.  You kick your feet, attempting to shake him off, but it doesn’t work. Scolding you with a heated look, Steve pinches you, “Shhh!  This is a good part!”  “Sorry!”  Your lips move soundlessly, even though you toss your head with a sassy little snap.  Something dark moves over Steve’s face, a lean, hungry look that makes your mouth go dry, and you press your thighs together, praying he doesn’t notice the effect he has on you. “I know how to keep you quiet.”  Eddie’s free hand traces the curve of your cheek, pulling your mouth to his before you can react, the impact of his lips on yours eroding all your reserve.

You’ve forgotten just how sweet he can be, the warring flavors of buttery popcorn, flat soda and green bud filling your mouth with every sensual swipe of Eddie’s thick tongue.  Steve grabs the snack bowl, moving it to the table, so that it doesn’t spill off your lap, as Eddie leans further into you.  It forces you onto your knees as he supports your upper body, Steve still bracing your legs tightly. In the glow of the television, you're illuminated in silver, Eddie’s hands cupping your face as the kiss gets meaner.  Wetter.  Rougher. Nudging into the mix, Steve’s eagerly tugging at your ankle draws your attention away from Eddie and his talented mouth.  Hands on your waist, tight and firm, help manipulate your figure, settling you in Steve’s lap.  Brushing stray hair out of your eyes, his brown orbs reflecting the unattended movie, “Hey pretty girl.” “Hi, Steve.”  And that’s all you get as a warning before Steve’s lips meld with yours, his hold on your middle allowing him to rock you into his hardening length continuously. Your natural instinct is to moan, but Eddie’s at your side, his voice guttural and groaning, “Keep quiet, little mouse.  No noises.  Don’t want to interrupt the movie.” Nodding, you understand the stakes here but Steve makes it difficult to comply when he starts kissing down the column of your throat, peppering your skin with purpling bruises created with every nip from his perfect teeth.  Biting into your bottom lip you watch, wide-eyes staring, as Eddie shimmies out of his black jeans.  He’s not wearing any boxers, so his hefty erection is able to spring free with no impediments.  Steve is busy.  Twiddling with the rivets of your jeans, he slips a finger under the waistband of your pants, jerking you forward roughly by the hips.  One by one he snaps open the brass buttons, fingers toying the elastic of your panties but going no further- not yet.   Now he’s working your sweatshirt up, exposing your tummy first, then your bra covered breasts, as he lifts your top off.  When he tosses it beside him, a broad smile on his face, he has the audacity to smirk, “Look at you, huh?  So sweet for us, aren’t ya?” The praise makes you preen and your body responds with a flush of heat that radiates off your skin before pooling in the lowest part of your belly.  Turning your head in his direction, Eddie kisses you again, as quietly as possible so as not to compete with the scripted dialogue.  His hands tangle in your hair, directing your movements, holding you where he needs you while his pouty lips pummel your own. Yanking hard against your scalp, you’re jerked toward his waiting cock, coral hued and proud.  Your whimper is muffled by the gagging presence of him filling the wet cavern of your mouth.  Struggling with his size, you try to lift off Eddie but his hold on you is firm, and you raise teary eyes to his as he coos, “Damn, you look so fucking good, baby.  Taking me so well.  Can you- shit, can you swallow?”

Using your throat, you will some of the building saliva and salty pre-cum down, making Eddie moan pitifully, “Fuck.  Just- just like that.” Setting a steady rhythm, Eddie lays into the cushions, legs spread wide as you begin to service him in time with the push and pull of his hands on your head.  It’s easy to get lost in the task, focusing solely on bringing Eddie pleasure, and that’s why you don’t notice that Steve is no longer underneath you. When you’re hovering over Eddie, Steve takes advantage of your opened button fly, rolling the jeans you’re wearing down, down, down.  A high, thin squeak at the sudden draft sneaks past the seal you’ve created around Eddie’s cock.  All three of you freeze at your loudest response yet and you’re unsure of what the consequences will be. The huge clock on the mantle ticks- once, twice, three times, before Eddie moves again.  It’s Steve’s rumbling tenor that barks in your ear, “That was too loud, Miss Mouse.  Makes me think you want to get caught.  Is that it?  You want someone to find you like this?” The threat shouldn’t make your panties damp, but it does.  It shouldn’t make you whimper, small and meek, around Eddie’s throbbing shaft, but it does.  And Steve should not love the wild, fear-filled look in your eyes as they roll up, shiny with tears at his words, even as your mouth is stuffed full of his partner in crime. But he does.  Steve loves everything about it.  How compliant you are when he and Eddie box you in, your brain shutting down as theirs kicks into overdrive.  The way you play hard to get only to fall open, ready and wanting, once they have their hands on you.  Shit, it’s enough to drive him out of his fucking mind. Guiding you back to the very long, very large task before you, Steve lets his hand glide over your shoulders, down your bare back, to the edge of your newly exposed panties.  Sucking his lip between his teeth at the way you shiver when he cups your upturned bottom, his fingers move soundlessly into the gap between your thighs.  

You’re excited.  There’s no denying it, not when he can feel the damp heat staining the gusset of your underwear.  He grunts in appreciation, drawing Eddie’s attention with a voice that’s light and even, “How’s she look Harrington?” “Like she’s having a good time, Ed.”  That’s when Steve rubs a knuckle over the soaked center of your underwear, pushing against the fabric to tease your lower lips apart. Scooting lower, Eddie scoffs softly, “She- shit, she really likes that, man.” “Yea?  You like this honey?  Like me touching your pretty pussy while you suck on Eddie’s cock?”  He knows you can’t open your mouth and respond, Eddie’s hold on you ensures that, but Steve likes taunting you just the same.  Pulling the ruined garment aside, two fingers, ruinous and rigid sink inside your warmth only to slide out covered with slick.  Steve licks you from his fingers, grinning. The surprise intrusion makes you inhale sharply, giving Eddie the chance to bump against the back of your throat, your sigh lost to his impossible depth.  He’s close.  Every nudging thrust gets sloppier, less contained, and you’re desperate to give your aching jaw a break.  Choosing to ignore the guy behind you for the one in front of you, you bob down Eddie’s length quickly, hollowing your cheeks to create suction. “Oh fuck.  Fuck.  Fuck!”  Somehow he keeps his exclamations lower than the television’s volume.  Stiffening, Eddie’s grip on your neck tightens as he humps into your waiting mouth once, twice more.  His sticky spend splashes over your tongue in several bursts and you gulp around him, swallowing all you can.

Deflated now, Eddie thumps his head back into the pillow, tugging on your shoulders, “Come ‘ere.”  His lips meet yours savoring the taste of himself on your breath, kissing you clean, his fingers bruising your upper arms with the intensity of his grip.  Manhandling you, he pushes your back into the couch beside him, helping Steve wiggle you out of your drawers. They sit on either side of you, fully clothed but with open flies while you’re naked.  Exposed like you are, the chill air gives you goosebumps and pebbles your sensitive nipples.  Dragging one leg over his, Eddie parts your thighs rudely, your sex entirely on display should anyone else walk into the room. Steve mirrors this action, keeping you open wide, but his insistent hand on your cheek draws your mouth to his.  The thick muscle of his tongue plunges into you and for a second you think that he’s seeking out whatever might remain of Eddie’s oral encounter, but you push the thought aside at the sensation of warm, wet lips on your breasts.  The devil of Hawkins is sucking lewdly at your tight nipple, teeth barely there but threatening, and you arch your back simultaneously wanting more but terrified that Eddie will deliver. Moving to your neck, Steve sucks a vicious red mark onto the skin there, uncaring about who’ll see it and have something to say.  Eddie has licked up to your clavicle, the tendon of your throat receiving a nip before a soothing lick washes away the pain.  His ring-covered hand skims the little touched area of your inner thigh, nails dragging over the untested skin, urging close to your unprotected core. Steve, he husks into your ear, “Been so good for us baby.  Can you be good a little longer?”  The quad trapped between his denim covered ones trembles at the feeling of his strong fingers sliding higher, toying at the crease where your leg becomes hip, and weakly you nod in agreement.  Eddie finds your clit first, his fingertip making small circles, lightly- so lightly that you almost don’t believe his touch is real.  On the other hand, Steve’s fingers draw up and down your seam, collecting your dewy discharge, rubbing at your opening without entering.  Your mouth is millimeters away from his when your lips start moving, “Please.  Please?  Please, Steve.  Please.” Inhaling your pleas, Steve shakes his head in understanding, brushing his plush mouth against yours- not kissing you, but lingering close enough to feel every shuddering, panting breath you take.  Eddie’s finger slips inside of you, easy and eager, your pussy finally, frantically clenching around something of substance.  Steve watches as your eyes widen into owlish circles, your mouth a perfect “O”, as his middle finger presses into you, stretching you around their double intrusion.  Both boys are fingering you, one of them glancing against your spongy g-spot, the other pressing down on your inner wall.  Together they withdraw before surging forward, switching positions, and dragging a shattered sob from you. “Gotta stay quiet, little mouse.  Here.  This’ll help.”  And Steve’s gently pushing your balled up panties between your teeth, a makeshift gag that tastes like your excitement, but lets you hum helplessly as Eddie and Steve slide their fingers in and out of you. Your hand curves around Eddie’s head, tangling in his curls, delirious and dripping around his finger.  Steve takes your other hand and presses it to his expanding bulge, the intention clear: he needs you to get him off.  Whatever willpower you started the night with is gone now.  Steve knows it.  Eddie knows it.  And you affirm it when you wrap your fist around Steve’s girthy member.  Jerking him in smooth strokes, you spread his pre-cum downward, your fingers circling him loosely.  His velvety skin is hot to the touch and you whimper at the way he jumps in your palm, as if his cock wants this as much as he does. It’s Eddie who kisses down your sternum, over your round tummy, and across your pelvis before lifting his brown eyes to yours.  He has the audacity to wink, a wicked smile on his lips, as his spit covered tongue laps against your clit.  Spasming underneath his attention, your hips buck, searching for more.  

Steve shamelessly grinds into your grip, fucking into your hand the way he remembers fucking into you, letting his mouth run hot in your ear, “Look at you, little mouse.  Getting so wet, so turned on that you let your friends fuck you with their fingers.  And- er, shit-” he stutters, clamping down on his bottom lip to stave off cumming too fast, ”- and at the same time?  What a dirty slut you are, huh, little mouse?” The terrible talk sets you alight as Eddie uses his mouth to drive you higher.  As your orgasm begins to build as you whine, squeezing your eyes shut as if you could will your body to stop its inevitable decay into debauchery.  Pivoting, you fully face Steve, cheeks streaked with tears, lips puffy around your make-shift gag.  He sees your eyes roll back, a violent shudder coursing through you, as you wail thinly through the fabric in your mouth. That is all it takes; the sight of you sex drunk, humping your pelvis onto the fingers of each of the guys, your head draped over the couch’s back as a bead of sweat rolls down your neck.  Steve’s release arrives then, coming in creamy waves that drip over your hand, as he quietly chants, “Oh shit.  Oh fuck.  Yessss!”       

Eddie has not stopped, his talented fingers making up for any delay on Steve’s end but now they can both focus on making a complete mess of you.  Kissing hotly along your jaw, Steve yanks your gag free, “Don’t make me regret this.” “I- I won’t”  your purr hoarsely as Steve bites into your earlobe. Your body is contracting, muscles locking up when Eddie sucks against your pulsing bud wildly, making your burning thighs shake uncontrollably.  There are two fingers curling inside of you, but they don’t belong to Steve.  No, he’s bringing your cum stained fingers to your lips with a throaty command, “Clean yourself up, baby.” At the taste of Steve’s spunk your breath runs raggedly, chest heaving, a high pitched sigh escaping your dry lips.  Your ears fuzz over like the end of the VHS tape, static-y and snow-filled.  Collapsing from the inside out, you shake your head, as if you could deny the oncoming orgasm threatening to overwhelm you.  A hand, your hand, yanks hard on Eddie’s curls as both boys work you through your climax.  Somehow you manage to keep from screaming out your pleasure, biting your lip bloody, until you can inhale normally.  Making a show of it, Eddie sucks his finger clean, “Hmm, baby, I swear you’re my favorite flavor.”  Then he’s pushing his lips to yours, the tang of your intimate elixir fresh on his tongue, and you lean into his warmth. 

It feels too good.  The afterglow of being used by Steve and Eddie makes your tendons jelly and your bones soft.  One of them hands you a Twizzler as you smile absently.  Whatever resistance was in you, whatever fight you might have put up was destroyed the minute your mouth accepted Eddie’s kiss.

“You ok, mousie?”  Steve elbows you playfully, that perfect smile filling his face. “Uh huh.”  Eddie faces you now, a look that is close to concern coloring his features, “You uh, you seem pretty out of it, babe.”

A tear, one solitary tear crept over your cheek, through your shut eyes as you offered the pair a small smile, “I just wanna know one thing-”

“Yea?  What’s that?”  Blinking slowly, you swing your head between the two dark haired boys who you are sandwiched between, “How- uh, how did you know?” It’s Eddie who answers, confusion evident in his question, “Know what?” “That-” inhaling a shaky breath you will yourself to sound strong, “-that you could, ya know, do- uh do this to me.” Steve curls an arm around you, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “Oh baby, is that what you think?  That we did this to you and not for you?” “Princess, Stevie and I, we’ve wanted you for a long time.  A long fucking time.  And-” Interrupting, Steve continues with a heavy exhale, “And we found your diary.  Ya know the one where you talk about both of us?” “What?  Where?”  Just when you thought you couldn’t feel more embarrassed, the idea that the guys had found your journal and had a chance to read some of the intimate and private thoughts you once committed to paper causes your stomach to flop.

“You left it here after sleeping over.  I should feel bad about reading it, I guess-” leaning his forehead to yours, Steve sighs, “-but I don’t.” Eddie’s pushing against your side, turning your chin so he can really see you, needy for your attention, “And, we heard you.  We saw you, uh- you were, um, touching yourself in Steve’s bed on Labor Day, when you thought you were alone.  How you whimpered my name when this little hand-” snatching at your fingers, Eddie threads his through your own, placing a dainty kiss to the knuckles, “-this little paw was rubbing your pussy, shit.  I haven’t stopped thinking about it.” Swallowing thickly, your eyes roll shut at the memory.  You had been swimming all day in the sun, Steve and Eddie looking so delicious in their swim trunks, one chest toned and tan, the other fair and tattooed.  It was a moment of weakness, a moment when you gave into your base desires.  Now a moment that wasn’t as private as you initially thought. “But- what happens now?”  It was the question that hurt your heart and head the most.  Almost afraid of the answer, you lick over your bottom lip, hands nervously toying with the fringe of Eddie’s jeans so you didn’t have to look either boy in the eye. “Now?  We watch Nightmare on Elm Street.” Rolling your eyes, you land on Steve’s handsome face, “I mean, what happens between us three?” Eddie grins sheepishly, “Oh, well, we were talking about it and think that dinner is a good start.  Maybe a movie?  Or, if you wanna keep it simple, we can go to the lake-” “Eddie.  I’m serious.”  And you are.  You need to know what to expect, if you should expect anything at all, from Steve and Eddie. “So are we.”  Steve’s tone is firm.  Final.  And somehow reassuring. “Can- Can we do that?”  Your voice is whisper light, timid and searching. “Miss Mouse, we can do whatever the hell we want.”  Eddie closes the narrow gap between you, kissing along your jawline, before pecking down your throat.  Steve mirrors his attention, sucking at your pulse point, his sharp teeth nipping playfully, making you hum. “Whatever- uh- whatever we want?”  You repeat the words like a parrot, mind buzzing at the implication of their words and their deeds. Steve licks over your nipple, drawing gently against the sensitive skin there causing your back to arch, your fingers scratching against his scalp.  The calloused fingers of Eddie’s hand pinch at your other nipple, making you stutter, “I- I want you both.” “We know, sweetheart.  That’s what we’ve been trying to tell you.”  And Eddie’s lips meet yours as Steve’s shift lower, his weight laying over your legs.  You’re being kissed senseless again and no longer have a reason to fight against the rising pressure of pleasure that both guys are bringing your way. — That Halloween night, when the moon is waning and clouds shroud the stars, you please and are pleased in equal measure by Steve “The Hair” Harrington and Eddie “The Freak” Munson.  Maybe you have been blind, blind to what you need, what you want, what the boys can give you.  But not any more.  Now, now you can scurry towards exactly what you need, exactly who you need.  You are one happy little mouse.

When Robin calls you on November First to apologize for ditching you, your voice is froggy, your body is sore and you’re barely awake.  She asks about meeting up but you tell her you can’t.  You have plans.  Eddie and Steve are due over at your place at any minute.

----FIN----

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[papipopsicle]

DISCO INFERNO

Pairing: Billy Hargrove X Reader

Genre: fluff, v v slight angst

Summary: In which the usual basketball practice is cancelled, and Billy is surprisingly happy when he finds out why.

Warnings: swearing, mentions of abusive parents, racist father, Steve being a shitty friend.

Words: 3K

feedback is always appreciated

"I actually hate you."

"Love you too." Y/N replied and rolled her eyes as the brunette she called her best friend practically threw his lunch tray against the table top. Nancy jumped at the noise, her wide eyes bouncing from the two then back to Jonathan's hand in hers under the table. "Mind telling me what's made you harbour such strong feelings towards me?"

"You just had to steal the gym on the one day we play basketball, didn't you?" Steve huffed, sending the girl a playful look of annoyance. In all honesty he really didn't mind, it meant he'd have a couple hours free to catch up on an essay due earlier today.

"It's not my fault the school is cheap and the studio now has a crater in the roof from the storm." Y/N pulled at the sleeves of her baby pink bomber jacket and shivered at the thought of leaving the warm confines of Hawkins High School, "Maybe it's a sign that you should join, Stevie, we're always looking to diversify the group with more male dancers."

"Fuck off." The boy shoved Y/N's shoulder lightly with his and the four carried on eating like normal. They were an unlikely group of friends, an ex-flame and ex-friendship turned into a new flame and a new friendship.

The day droned on as it always did and the final bell sounded throughout the building. Kids eagerly ran to their lockers and out the large entrance unable to stay in school for a moment more than necessary, but for Y/N, her day was only just starting. She weaved through the crowds, going against the current and deeper into the school until she found herself in the girl's locker room. Y/N greeted the other girls already there and quickly changed into a pair of pink leggings and a baggy black top, throwing her Hawkins High sweatshirt on top. She tied her y/h/c hair into a ponytail and double knitted her trainer's laces before making her way to the gym.

"Training's cancelled today, Hargrove." Montgomery shouted down the corridor, watching as his friend paused his movements and turned around, "Dancers are taking over until they fix the roof."

"That's bull." Billy groaned, his hand running through his long hair in annoyance. Basketball meant not needing to be a chauffeur for Max and not having his father on his back for another couple hours. Of course he had P.E tomorrow but that didn't make a difference.

Monty shrugged, "Its not like we can do anything, the Principal basically licks Y/L/N's arse for fun."

That stifled Billy. He'd slept with half of the cheer squad by week two in Hawkins. There wasn't a girl in his year he didn't at least know the name of, not that he ever used their name. "Y/L/N?" He asked casually, intrigued by the idea of fresh meat.

"Harrington's girl, Y/N. C'mon, you've seen that ass." The boy joked with a smirk, but when Billy simply knitted his eyebrows together, Montgomery hit the boy's chest out of shock and began walking towards the gym dragging him behind, "Mate, you're about to owe me big time."

The two athletes snuck into the bleachers undetected and as soon as Monty pointed her out as the girl leading the group warm up session, Billy's heart sped up. Of course he recognised her, but he didn't like the reasoning behind it. Sure, she had an amazing body, one the boy next to him clearly enjoyed jerking off to, but it was always tucked safely under Steve's arm in the halls. He was her own personal bodyguard. Billy's memory was still fuzzy from the events at the Byers' house three months ago, but Y/N was vividly part of that disjointed memory.

She demonstrated a host of stretches for the group to mirror as 'Immigrant Song' blasted through the large gymnasium. Both boys were in a trance at that moment and completely forgot that they couldn't play basketball, almost happy about it. Billy found himself in awe at the pure joy lacing the smile on Y/N's face in that moment, like nothing else mattered to her other than living in the moment. The girl dropped into the splits and that's when Billy lost it, his heart racing a million miles an hour at her confidence and finesse.

Montgomery shook his head and patted Billy's shoulder with a chuckle, "I bet she's so fucking dirty when Harrington isn't around to keep her in line, you know, daddy issues, that kind of shit."

The boy kept talking but Billy zoned out, not caring for his remarks. He hadn't even noticed Monty's disappearance for another half an hour after that. It may not have seemed like it, but the blond really was trying to change his ways one step at a time, one of those steps being not talking about or treating women like pieces of meat. It was a work in progress, but Y/N wasn't going to be a step back.

He stayed for the next two hours, sat on the uncomfortable wooden benches in the bleachers, completely mesmerised by the way Y/N moved with so much fluidity and grace. Only towards the end of the session after perfecting the new routine had Y/N burst her little dance bubble long enough to notice Billy. She sent him a warm smile, one he was sure he didn't deserve after what she must have seen at the Byers house, but he didn't think twice before returning it.

The music was all deafening disco apart from the odd Led Zeppelin, Scorpions or Metallica song standing out like garish yellow highlighter on a pristine white page of notes. Billy enjoyed it those though, humming along and forcing himself to hide the grin that tugged at the corners of his lips as he noticed Y/N singing along too. She winked at him and slid to her knees, fully committing to the worlds most embarrassing yet incredible air-guitar solo. Y/N giggled and began the usual end speech encouraging everyone to carry on with as much enthusiasm and all that bullshit.

When she had gathered all her belongings and turned off the stereo, Y/N turned back to the bleachers in hope of seeing Billy still sat there, but he'd somehow left as secretively as he came. She pouted but quickly stopped her mind from going down that route before it even had the chance.

Instead of getting changed back into her earlier clothes, Y/N shoved them into her gym bag and left the girls locker room in search of her ride. It was hailing heavily outside, the small pieces of ice beating at the building's roof and just as she peered out of the window into the car park, lightning struck, thunder following seconds later. Y/N jumped, always skittish in storms. She couldn't see Steve's signature car in its usual spot, even in this weather she'd know his car from anyone's. Surely he wouldn't have left her without at least saying, especially in this weather. But minutes passed and there was no sign of the BMW anywhere.

Y/N groaned and whimpered at the thought of walking in the torrential rain, why had she let Steve convince her into giving her a lift instead of taking her motorbike? At least then she'd get home quicker. Scouring the car park for any other viable options, she noticed Billy's car and honestly couldn't choose which was worse; walking half an hour in this weather and probably dying from the worst cold in history, or asking Billy for a lift. She'd take a hailstorm over his reckless driving any day.

Billy Hargrove was damaged, Y/N didn't know exactly what he'd been through, but it wasn't pleasant. He had now real regard for his own life anymore, let alone other people.

It took a few seconds to gather enough courage to exit the school, and by the time she had, she was soaked to the bone immediately. Y/N heard her name being called over the rain and soon a large black jacket was held above her head as a makeshift umbrella. It was a leather jacket to be exact, Billy's leather jacket. She looked up at him in confusion and was quickly pulled back into the school's foyer.

"Are you out of your fucking mind?" Billy asked rhetorically and put his jacket over her shoulders in attempts to bring her some warmth, but it only shrouded the girl in his scent. She didn't take any notice of his harsh tone, and instead pulled her hair out of the jackets collar as he continued ranting loudly, "Do you know how dumb it is to walk in this, Y/L/N? You'll freeze before you get home. Harrington will blame himself if you die and then he'll blame me if he finds out I let you walk home in this. I don't need him badgering me about your death for the rest of my life, so, let me drive you home?"

It was more of a request than a question, but either way Y/N had a snarky response lined up as she pulled the jacket closer to her frame, "I'd rather be hit by your car than let you drive me in it, love."

"Fine." Billy's voice came out in a low grumble and he took a step towards the girl, now only centimetres between them, "You can drive."

Y/N's mouth gasped open in shock, Billy was emotionally attached to his car, it was the closest thing he had to a functioning relationship. She didn't know whether it was appropriate to laugh or not, but when he held his keys out on front of her face for her to catch, Y/N raised her eyebrows, "Wait, you're being serious?"

He shrugged with a carefree smirk plastered across his face, jangling the keys a little, "Just take the damn keys before I realise how stupid this is."

"Excuse you, I'm an excellent driver, your baby is in good hands." Y/N smiled widely, one that made the dormant butterflies in Billy's stomach flutter about and do somersaults.

She pinched the metal key ring before he had the chance to retract it, and skipped gleefully over to the double doors. The girl turned back to see him still stood in the exact same position mulling over whether this was a good decision or not. "Hargrove." Y/N huffed out.

He sighed and finally came back to reality, zoning in on the y/h/c girl to find her intently watching him with a small smirk playing at her lips, "If you land even one fucking mark on the paint job, you're dead, got it?"

Y/N looked up at him, now standing right beside her in front of the doors, wide eyes acting startled by the words before crinkling as she let out an obnoxiously loud giggle, almost snorting, "Ouh, I'm so scared. Three, two, one, run!"

The girl sprinted out of the double doors quicker than the last flash of lightning, using Billy's jacket as a hood while unlocking the Camaro in haste, throwing her bags in the back and starting the engine. Billy soon joined her, his hair sopping and shirt stuck to his chest in just a few seconds.

He was about to ask her what was taking so long to start driving, considering pushing herself into the back seat and driving himself, but Billy turned from frustrated to weirdly warm and fuzzy as he watched the girl slip her arms into his jacket. It didn't fit her well, swamping her small frame and looking bulky over her sweatshirt, but somehow it was still an adorable sight.

The rain and hail beat against the roof constantly, filling any space for conversation, but he still put the radio on in case the air became too silent. Surprisingly, she hummed along to the Mötley Crüe song and drummed her fingers against the steering wheel while leaving the school car park. He noticed she was hesitant, which was pretty standard considering the weather.

Neither teenager tried to make conversation, and his eyes trailed across the exposed skin of her hands after a couple minutes of staring out the window. A few white lines mirroring gashes and wounds littered her flesh, and he wondered what the cause of such scattered scars might have been. He stopped starring like a crazy person and focused on the way she handled his car with so much care and affection, finding it oddly endearing.

But soon Y/N had pulled into her driveway and cut the engine. She turned to him and sent the boy a small yet warm smile, "Thanks for not driving me."

He shook his head with a chuckle, suddenly so self aware of the situation. A pretty girl was in his car, wearing his leather jacket, looking up at him with 'fuck me' eyes. It was a circus act at this point, trying to do something nice but ending up in the same place, well not always the same place physically- the backseat most times, rarely their bed, and never his. Billy leaned closer, his breath hot against Y/N's cool skin, and just as his lips were about to touch hers, the girl jerked back just realising what was happening.

She looked up at him sincerely, placing her hand over his on the centre console, "Don't kiss me. You let me drive your car home from school, this isn't the end to some elaborate date."

Y/N moved to get her bags from the backseats, only to have Billy cut off her movements, "You drove me home, didn't you?"

The question sounded a little strange at first, but the girl registered what he meant and bit the inside of her cheek before nodding, "A lot happened that night, a lot that can't be changed or taken back. Not that I've made it clear, but I have a bit of a soft spot for you, Hargrove. You've done a lot of unforgivable things, you know that, I'm not going to lecture you. But I understand why you did them." Y/N didn't know whether to carry on, she didn't want to leave the car but evidently this was a heavy conversation and a rather uncomfortable one at that.

She unclasped the seatbelt and turned to face the boy with a warm expression, "The only boy I've ever brought home, Nathan, he was the sweetest human on the planet. Considering we were fifteen, he treated me like a princess, always buying me little gifts and taking me on adventures. But my dad couldn't see past the colour of his skin, and then he decided to throw the entire twelve piece set of china-wear at me until I promised not to see him ever again. If I'm right, our dads are pretty similar in that regard. I get you don't want that to happen to Max, that it was your personal way of protecting her. It doesn't excuse anything you've done, not in the slightest, but I understand."

Silence enveloped the car and Y/N dared to look up at Billy, finding his facade of egotistical male dominance shattered. She didn't brush aside his problems, but didn't treat him with kid gloves either, he didn't know how to respond but he was still just as in awe of the girl in front of him now, a few escaped tears trickling down her soft cheeks, as he was with the confident dancer.

She cleared her throat and sent him one last smile, lighting his insides into an inferno like a match, and Y/N reached for the door handle. Billy tugged her back physically this time, holding her so tightly with so much hidden emotion in the embrace. She burrowed into the crook of his neck and hugged him back with everything in her, hoping he'd somehow realise he wasn't alone on this road of tragedy.

"If I'm not at school, I'm usually here." Y/N pointed towards the house, lingering close to Billy still, "I know I'm not much, but I can distract you from how shitty life is and the inevitability of death if you ever want me to." She giggled, her tone light as a feather but her words heavy with meaning.

"Or if you ever want your jacket back." She winked, wrapping the leather garment around her figure tightly and getting out of the car. Billy slid into the drivers seat and watched in amusement as she fumbled with her keys and entered the house, only after looking back with a dazzling smile and another wink. The door shut quickly to keep the house warm and then boy pulled away from the driveway, wondering how this girl had entered his heart so quickly and when exactly she'd be the death of him.

Y/N skidded through the house with a less than happy demeanour, hitting the number two key on the house phone and hearing two rings before someone picked up, "Hello?" She greeted through gritted teeth, needing to know which family member was on the other end.

There was some indistinct shouting before her best friend finally answered, "Y/N/N? Oh thank go-"

"Where the fuck did you go, Harrington?" She seethed, it might have turned out okay for her in the end but that didn't excuse the shittiness of Steve's actions. He didn't know Billy let her drive, and she was going to have fun making him work to get that apology accepted.

"Please don't hate me, but I gave Nancy a lift."

[kirabook]

Hopper and Jonathan

You know why a Hopper and Jonathan fatherish figure situation works out too???

Because I’m pretty sure Hopper lived in New York for a time, and Jonathan wants to go NYU.

What better person to go to for advice and information? What advice you ask?

Will, ask yourself... after everything that happened, is Jonathan really going to move away to college all the way to New York?? Will he? I could see it going two ways. You might think this is similar to Steve’s situation, but I see it differently. Nancy too. I’ll break down all three for funsies.

Steve

We’ll start with this guy. He’s not particularly smart. Or at least, not book smart. It happens, it’s just not his thing. Steve is athletic and surprisingly kind hearted when he’s influenced by the right people (Nancy, Jonathan, and the kids). 

Steve was planning to go to college, but found the effort to daunting. His paper for college admissions was admittedly terrible and at the end of the day, he wanted to stay in town with Nancy. Well, Nancy is out of the picture now, so what’s a guy to do?

Even though he doesn’t have Nancy, he still has plenty of ties to the town. Is it enough to keep him around? I think so. He has Dustin, the little brother he didn’t know he needed. Dustin loves him and looks up to him, and in such a short amount of time, Steve has become very protective of him.

Nancy or not, Steve probably doesn’t want to go to college. If he can stick around, he will just work for his dad and take the easy route to be with the people he cares about. But that’s not the only solution for Steve.

Steve is athletic, knows many secrets, and cares about the very people involved in said secrets. Hopper honestly needs a right hand man because the two that work under him right now are pretty useless. They’re funny and all, but when Hopper needs someone to work with him, they just aren’t it. They haven’t been since season 1. 

If duty calls, I think Steve would gladly take it. That’s Steve’s path imo. I think Steve will stay.

Nancy

Nancy is an interesting one. Annoyingly enough in my opinion, they haven’t dropped enough hints of where she’s going with her future. 

Nancy is incredibly smart. Maybe not with her romantic life all the time, but she’s very logical and can put things together when others can’t. Karen and Ted may be borderline absentee parents, but their kids are incredibly clever.

So, what does Nancy’s future hold? It seems obvious that someone like her would go to college. But after everything that’s happened, is she really going to leave Hawkins to go to school? I think it’s a tough decision on her part... but I think the answer is yes. Yes she would.

With college, Nancy could become even more of a “brain” so to speak. What if she goes to school for journalism? She could blow the lids off of any government agency. In season 1, she was studying chemistry (or biology?). What if they continue the theme of the Mind Flayer and the likes being more of a science problem than a supernatural one? She could help in a multitude of ways then if Dr. Owens can’t. 

I’m not sure what’s in Nancy’s future, but I have a gut feeling she would leave to benefit them in the long run.

Jonathan 

Last but not least, the guy who I started this post for. Jonathan’s issue is similar to Nancy’s, but even worse. Should he stay or should he go?

Before everything happened with Will, I think if money permitted it, Jonathan would have gladly gone to college to NYU. There would still be some hesitation. After all, he’s the “man” of the house, he’s helping support the household. Without him, his mom might struggle a little bit more and Will would be alone more often. 

But now? Even if Will is going to be safe forever now (highly doubt it, pff), there’s no way Jonathan is just going to leave. He’s probably already written off his dreams of NYU. He’s probably ready to find a job in town and live in Hawkins with Joyce and Will for the rest of his life.

But there’s just no way Joyce and Will would want that to happen. Especially Joyce. When she was arguing with Lonnie, at the drop of the hat, she was able to recall the college Jonathan wanted to go to and what age he decided he wanted to go there. She probably even remembers the first time he expressed interest in that. Joyce doesn’t want bad crap to ruin her son’s dreams

And Will would feel terribly guilty for being the reason that his brother decides to stick around instead of going off and living a his own life.

So... when Jonathan is stuck between a rock and a hard place (everyone telling him to go to the school and his fulfill his dreams, or sticking around and supporting his family) .... who is the person he can turn to?

Well, there’s Nancy. But Nancy is still undecided herself at this point. What advice can she really give? She’s probably very sympathetic with what happened to Will and she doesn’t want to influence his decision.

No way he can go to Lonnie, not in a million years. Lonnie would gladly spend any money he has for college on something irrelevant.

But there’s one guy in town that (I think) lived in New York for at least 7 years (based on what he said to his ex-wife over the phone) and someone that could easily be called a positive father figure in his life.... Hopper.

Hopper is a confused sad and partially angreh family man. As I sloppily typed into the tags and captions of this post, Jonathan and Hopper have an interesting relationship. 

Jonathan views himself as the protector of his family. He goes out of his way to distance himself from his mother (as in, to make her view him as an adult and not her high school son) so that he can work and help her with the household. While Hopper is on the case of trying to find Will, Jonathan keeps putting himself out there because HE wants to do it. HE wants to find his little brother. But Hopper won’t let him. Even when he goes off to Lonnie’s on his own to find Will, he just isn’t there and Jonathan is out of options.

Come season 2 for the first time... Hopper passes the responsibility of Will’s fate onto him. It’s kind of weird. Hopper isn’t there dad, and Jonathan doesn’t have a good track record with liking dad figures... and yet Jonathan seems to have a weird respect for Hopper. He kept his word and saved his brother. He took care of his brother when he couldn’t. Complete opposite of his own dad. 

Hopper is the kind of man Jonathan probably wants to be. A protector. Bob was ok, but as he admitted, he didn’t see what Joyce saw in him. To Jonathan, Hopper was the better ‘dad’ than nice guy Bob. If it had been left to Bob in season 1, Will probably wouldn’t have been saved. (also, this is no dis against Bob. Jonathan might see Hopper as the better ‘dad’, but Will definitely sees Bob as the best dad right now)

This all means... I think Jonathan would eventually go to Hopper for advice. And I think Hopper would take it very seriously because he can totally see Jonathan’s predicament. Will is an otherworldly magnet, but Jonathan can’t live his life based off of worrying about his brother and staying confined to Hawkins.

At the end of the day... I think Hopper would encourage Jonathan to go to school with the added bonus of something like, “I’ll look out for them.” How sweet would that be???? 

As for what Jonathan would do... I don’t know. I could see it going both ways.