#reputation (steve harrington's version) WHEN | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

justmeinadaze · 3 months

Text

Don't Be So Hard (Steddie X Plus Size You)

"Don't be so hard on yourself The name of the game is humiliation, And thanks for your admiration. I never thought I'd say this: The way that we play has its confrontation, And guilt by association."

A/N: New version of these beings for me to try out. Thank you @bimbobaggins69 for the idea by just being amazing <3.

This take place 10 years after events in season 4 so about 1996.

Warnings: Older Dom (30s) Coach Steve Harrington/Older Dom (30s) Professor Eddie Munson & Young (20s) Fem Plus size Sub Student Y/N (whew! That's a mouth full lol), SMUT, spanking, choking, degrading, voyeurism, use of sir, FLUFF, Eddie and Steve have an established relationship. ANGST (because I'm me), reader is plus size and gets name called by the jocks (they call her names like piggy), one of them does assault her (pushes her and yells at her; brief), Steddie saves the day, mentions of reader staring in a play that makes her anxious due to her body.

This whole dynamic is technically angsty (which is why I love it muahaha).

Word Count: 8679

“I fucking hate schools.”, you grumble under your breath as you hit snooze on your alarm for the fifth time that morning. The beginning of your junior year spring semester at Hawkins University started today but the idea of getting out of bed sounded exhausting. In Hawkins, everyone was in everyone else’s business and being the bigger girl some of the jocks felt the need to butt in more than anyone else.

“Hey Y/N. Did you put on more weight this summer? Those jeans look like they’re about to pop!”

“Should you be eating that, piggy? Maybe try a salad every now and then.”

You thought when you left high school, you wouldn’t have to deal with this crap anymore but unfortunately some of it followed you to college.

When you finally made it to your first class it was right before it began so you could avoid any unwanted conversation. You weren’t so lucky.

“Heeeeeeey, Y/N.”, football star Martin Click cooed obnoxiously as he leaned towards you from his seat above yours. “I was hoping we’d have some classes together, piggy. I missed you over the summer. You couldn’t bother to dress up for me?”

“Oh, sorry Martin, if I had known we would be sharing a class I would have made myself uglier but unfortunately for me that’s impossible since I’m so fucking sexy. Maybe you can tutor me on how to be a sloppy asshole.”

The breathy laugh that echoed to your ears caught you off guard as you glanced up towards the front of the classroom and met the chocolate eyes of your new Literature & Writing professor.

“I’m sorry.”, you whisper as red paints your face.

“No, no. No reason to be sorry. I thought it was a good comeback.”, he grinned making you blush even more. “Mr. Click, should I tell Coach Harrington that you’re more focused on ladies attire than my class or are we going to behave this semester?”

Rolling his eyes, Martin leaned back in his chair making the professor smugly smirk as he winked in your direction.

“As I’m sure ya’ll are aware, I’m professor Munson and if you’re here because of my reputation then I will kindly ask you to leave. I’m not here to talk about my past or my family history.”

You had heard rumors about Eddie Munson and of course knew all about him being on the run back when you were little. You parents never let you leave the house or play outside for fear that the “satanic Hawkins killer” would snatch you up and make you his next victim. As you grew up and read more about what happened, it seemed less to you like he did anything at all and obviously the chief agreed because Mr. Munson was never tried or did any prison time.

No, you weren’t interested in his past. You were interested in the things he could teach you. After overhearing one of his lectures, you were fascinated with the way he told a story and explained the material. He got so animated to an adorable degree and as a theater major you thought it would be fun to see how he interpreted literature while getting the final English credit you needed.

When no one moved he smiled and began talking about usual first day things such as the syllabus and what to expect over the semester. After the class had ended and everyone left, you stayed behind and quietly made your way to his desk.

“Hey, um, I’m sorry if I was rude or—”

“I didn’t think you were rude. If anything, he was and definitely needed to be put in his place.”, he interrupted without looking your way as he sorted through papers in front of him. “You’re Y/N, right?”

“Yes, sir. Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Yeah, I’ve seen some of the plays you were in on campus here. I dragged my friend to see A Midsummer Night’s Dream and you actually got him to pay attention.”, Mr. Munson smiled as he finally lifted his head to look your way. “You were very good.”

“Oh, um, thank you very much. That means a lot coming from you.” He tilts his head at your comment as blush fills your cheeks again. “I just meant I’ve seen some of your lectures before and you’re an amazing storyteller. You excite me, I mean you make me want to pay attention to, I mean… ok, let’s pretend I just left right after class and didn’t just embarrass myself.”

Hugging your books to your chest, you power walk out the door as his chuckle fills your ears.

***

With a break between periods, you hastily headed for the gym after lunch to change and get out on to the track by the field. Contrary to popular belief, you were fairly athletic despite your size and enjoyed letting off steam as you pumped your legs as fast as they could take you.

As your music blared loudly in your ears, the feeling of eyes watching you grabbed your attention towards the bleachers where Coach Harrington was standing with his arms crossed and leaning to the side as Professor Munson balanced his arm on his shoulder, murmuring something to him as their eyes followed you.

Trying to block them out, you continued to focus on the path in front of you but was blindsided when a football whizzed past your nose almost hitting you.

“Whoa! Sorry, piggy. Have to keep your eyes open around here.”, Martin laughs as you roll your eyes.

Glancing their way, you noticed both men were standing straighter as if prepared to defend you if needed. You weren’t a weak little girl and for whatever reason you strongly felt like you needed to show them that. As you pick up the football one of the players lifts his hands running towards you as if expecting you to not be able to throw it but at the last minute you throw a perfect spiral to their coach who doesn’t even hesitate as he lifts his hands and catches it seamlessly from the air.

“Well, shit, gentlemen. Looks like I have a new passer.”

“Oh, no thank you, Coach Harrington. If I ever played a sport it would be with a team that doesn’t suck.”

Again, Mr. Munson snicked through his teeth as the man he was leaning on flashed you a big grin.

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

That night you decided to run after hours, thinking you would be alone but were surprised when you saw Coach Harrington on the track.

“Shit! Sorry, you scared the hell out of me.”, he nervously chuckled.

“I’M sorry. I thought no one would be out here.”

“Yeah, normally there aren’t.”, he teased raising an eyebrow at you. “Well, don’t let me stop you.”

As he took off continuing to jog, you pushed your headphones on your head and started your run. After a couple of laps with you in your zone, your feet abruptly slipped out from under you as you tumbled forward onto the gravel.

“Whoa!”, Coach Harrington shouted in concern as he ran to your side and kneeled down. “Are you alright?”

“Ow. Yeah, I just…tripped. Fuck that hurt.”

“Let me see.” Without any hesitation, his hand gripped your leg and looked it over. “Oof, you may have a pretty good bruise there but you should be alright.” Rising to his feet, he extended his hand to you to help you up which you eagerly accepted while he gripped you tightly and led you towards the bleachers. “You must have been deep in thought because you passed me a couple of times and didn’t even turn your head.”

“I did? Yeah, I’m sorry. I just have some things on my mind.”

“No, I know what you mean. Eddie—Professor Munson told me what happened in his class. If any of those guys bother you again, please let me know. I’ll make them run laps or even sit them out of a game if I have to. Nothing scares these kids more than not being able to play.”

You knew of Steve Harrington mostly because of his parents. The Harrington’s were prominent members of the community and very well respected. In your high school there had been pictures of him from his days on the basketball and swim team when he was a student.

After he graduated, other rumors began to circulate about him spending time with the “freaks of Hawkins” but who cares. Not you especially since you had been labeled a freak since elementary.

“I, um, I hope you didn’t take offense to what I said. Your team doesn’t suck just…some of your players. I mean, not their playing ability just their personalities. FUCK, why can’t I talk today?”

His smile widens as he laughs from his gut making you don your own smile.

Coach Harrington’s eyes meet yours for a moment before a controlled laugh escapes his lips.

“What, um, what were you listening to so loud that you didn’t hear me yelling for you to slow down?”

Giggling, you gesture towards your Walkman.

“Just some CD I burned to get me pumped. Right now, it’s playing ‘Master of Puppets’ by Metallica. Have you heard that song?”

Something dark flashes over his face before he awkwardly nods and gets up leaving you alone on the bleachers as you stare after him.

***

“Are you fucking kidding me?”, you growl as you push on the girl’s locker room door to find it locked. “What is going on with me this semester?”

Glancing around and seeing no one, you brave the boy’s locker room, finding it open, assuming that in his weird state, maybe, Mr. Harrington forgot to lock up. As quickly as you could you showered and began to change into some comfy clothes.

The sound of something hitting the wall nearby froze you in fear as you gaze scanned the area.

No one nearby. It could be the janitor cleaning the coach’s office.

Quietly, you threw your things over your shoulder and tiptoed that way with the intention of ducking under the window of the area so you weren’t seen but the muffled sound of moaning had you pausing again.

“Mmm…Steve…Steven. Wh-What’s wrong, baby? Talk to me.”

“Your student that you talk about…Y/N…she was listening to that song you played in the upside down. I just…it made me think of us…us finding you.”

“Hey. Hey, hey, sweetheart. It’s ok. I’m ok. I’m right here, Steve. You saved me.”

Peeking through the window, you saw their forehead’s pressed together as Eddie gently caressed his cheek with his thumbs. A small sigh left your lips when they began to kiss each other again. With a bit of needy force, Steve turned him around and pulled his back flush to his chest. Gently nibbling on his neck, he reached around and unbuckled Eddie’s pants, pushing them down to free his cock that he promptly began stroking.

Fuck me he’s big.

You practically drooled at the sight, licking your lips as your palm absently glided under your shirt to rub your tummy.

With his free hand, Steve sloppily yanked down his sweats making you moan as you watched him spit in his palm and rub it between Eddie’s cheeks before gradually guiding himself into his entrance.

“Fuck, Steve. That’s it, baby.”

Clinging to each other tightly, Steve thrust his hips at a steady rhythm and you marveled at the sight as your fingers drifted into your own sweatpants and you began circling your clit.

“H-Harder, Steve, please.”

“Please.”, you whisper as you try to keep your eyes open and on them.

“Like this, honey? Fuck you feel so good, Eddie. I love you.”

Arching his back, your professor craned his neck to kiss the man’s lips as he pumped into him as hard as he could without hurting him.

“I love you to, baby. Shit, I’m going to cum. Cum with me, Steve.”

Nodding aggressively, he chased their highs until both men grunted and came. While they softly kissed each other your body trembled as you covered your mouth, trying to stifle your moans as the coil snapped. It wasn’t enough as both their heads turned meeting your eyes as you were coming down from cloud 9.

No one moved as the three of you stared each other.

Holding up his hands in surrender, Steve pulled out as Eddie straightened up, worry painting both their faces.

“Y/N…”

Before they could do anything else, you turned and quickly ran out of the locker room.

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

What the fuck was I thinking?! I shouldn’t have watched them. Two teachers in the MALE locker room while I was touching myself. Shit. I’m going to be expelled for sure.

Sitting on the stage of your theater class, you focused on the script in front of you as you prepared for an audition your professor recommended. Mrs. Lilah always felt constrained by Hawkins when it came to material but this year she quiet literally said fuck them and decided to do Rocky Horror Picture Show.

As you read through your lines for Magenta, a clearing throat caught your attention.

“Hey Eddie!”, your theater teacher beamed as she waved at him and he smiled back before jumping onto the stage to sit beside you. He smelled strongly like cigarettes and a dash of cologne that had your head spinning as you continued to keep your eyes on the paper in front of you.

“Hey Lilah. I hope I’m not disturbing anything. I just need to talk to Y/N here about an assignment real quick.”

“No problem. She does have her audition for Janet in a few minutes and I’m dying to see her interpretation.”

That caught your attention as your head swiveled her way.

“I’m doing what now?”

“For Janet, honey. I think you’d be perfect. She’s a bit timid at first but comes out of her shell.”

“But…but…she’s in a bra for a good chunk of the play.”

“Yeah…does that make you uncomfortable?”

“Hm, yeah, Y/N, does people seeing your body in the shadows in an intimate way make you uncomfortable?”, Eddie murmured low enough so only you could hear.

“Let’s just do the audition and if you prove me right, we can talk about the wardrobe, ok?”

Flashing her a timid smile, you turn to give your attention to your professor.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what? Skipping my class this morning? Oh, you mean when you watched me and my boyfriend have sex in the boy’s locker room?”

“The girl’s one was locked and I needed to shower—”

“That explains why you were in the locker room but not why you were there watching. Are you going to run and tell all your little friends about how you saw the murderous freak fucking the pretty, rich football coach?”

“What? No. I would never—”

“Mhmm. Look how much will it take to keep your mouth shut?”

“Nothing. I don’t—”

“Please, Y/N! Everyone has a price and Steve doesn’t deserve to lose all he’s worked hard for. So, tell me—”

“Will you let me talk!?” Glancing around to make sure no one heard your outburst; you lower your voice as you continue. “I don’t want anything or any money. I won’t tell anyone. I genuinely don’t care about your private lives. I’m really sorry I watched. I shouldn’t have…I just…”

Your professor’s eyes focused intently on you as he waited for you to continue.

“I was attracted. The way you two kiss and the way he holds you…no one’s ever been that way with me…” When your eyes dared to finally meet his, you expected anger but those gorgeous chocolate irises displayed a softness you appreciated. “I swear, Mr. Munson, I won’t tell anyone. Your secret is safe with me.”

Nodding, he jumped down from the stage before turning to face you again.

“I think under the circumstances you can call me Eddie. Not in class but… I also think you should play Janet. You’re a very beautiful young lady. Don’t let any of these superficial idiots take away that lead role from you just because of how you look.”

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

A couple of weeks had passed and nothing of note happened with school or your classes. You were cast as Janet, allowing Eddie’s advice to drive you as you maneuvered the role. Your professor and Coach Harrington had minimal contact with you but you always felt their eyes following you around.

Tonight, you were studying in the Hawkins diner off campus. You preferred it here then the library after hours because not only could you munch on some delicious food but no one was usually there that you knew.

As the bell above the door dinged, you glanced up from the novel Eddie had you guys reading to see said professor and his boyfriend entering the establishment and taking a seat. You couldn’t help but wonder how hard being out like this must be for them. They couldn’t share a booth or be flirty. They couldn’t hold hands or kiss, at least not visibly where people could see. You hated that for them since both seemed like good men. You wondered why they stayed behind here in this terrible little conservative town instead of moving anywhere else.

Hoping to slip out unnoticed and allow them privacy this time, you gathered your things and placed some money on the table.

“Is that my favorite piggy?”

You roll your eyes at the sound of Martin’s voice as you try to ignore him and head out the door. A hand abruptly grabs you but you slap it away.

“Don’t touch me.”, you hiss.

“Oh, come on, Y/N. It’s Saturday and we just left an awesome party. Can’t you and I get along for once?!” His friends around the table behind him snickered as a big devilish smile stretched across his face.

“If you weren’t such a fucking dick maybe. Now leave me alone.”

As you storm out the front door to your car, something tugs your backpack, ripping it open as all your books and papers tumble to floor. Martin’s hand wraps around your throat and pushes you against the trunk of your car.

“You will show some fucking respect especially in front of my friends.”

“Aw, did little Martin get his feelings hurt?”, you sass. “Didn’t realize you had any.”

Your knee rises as you hit him in his stomach but he’s still faster as his palm reaches out to grab your shirt tugging you down hard onto the pavement.

Abruptly, someone grabs his own jacket collar and tosses him roughly away from you as Eddie quickly maneuvers around them both, kneeling to your level.

“Are you ok, sweetheart? Can you stand?” Silently nodding, you take the hand he offers to you and rise to your feet. He notices immediately that your blouse is torn and without hesitation shimmies out of his leather jacket and places it around your shoulders.

“Mr. Click, on Monday, you will see me in my office.”, Coach Harrington growled as he glared at the boy.

“Oh, fuck you! That fat little whore pushed me into it!”

“HEY!”, he bellowed making you jump as your teacher rubbed your shoulders comfortingly. “I would advise you to stop speaking. You’re already in a lot of trouble.”

“Pfft, you think I’m scared of you, Steve Harrington?! Yeah, my parents told me all about you and the disappointment you became to Hawkins. You’re fucking pathetic! I’m surprised they even hired you to coach us let alone your friend the freak! I guess those satanic rituals DO fucking work.”

The man’s body language stiffened before he did that controlled chuckle you had heard before.

“Alright, Martin, we can do this right now then. I was only going to suspend you but you know, since I’m so fucking pathetic I think I’ll just go all in. You’re off my team.”

“WHAT?!”

Turning around, he ignored the boy’s continued expletives as he faced you both.

“Eddie, get her books and all her things. We’ll take her back to our house, if that’s ok with you.”, he asked pointedly in your direction. All you could do was nod and try to bend down to get your thing but the metalhead stopped you before descending to the concrete to collect your things.

“YOU CAN’T DO THIS TO ME! YOU’LL REGRET THIS!”

“Take it up with the dean. Until then on Monday, I want your shit out of my locker room or else I will throw it in the garbage. Come on, guys.”

Coach Harrington opened the back seat door for you, startling you when he closed the door a bit too hard.

***

When they parked outside of a home, neither moved as Eddie’s eyes scanned over his partner’s face.

“You ok, babe?”

His ringed fingers reached out to caress through his hair and in the rearview mirror you could see Steve close his eyes as he exhaled.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Let’s get inside.”, he answered curtly as he came around and opened your door and you followed both men inside. You stood in their living room silently as they threw their keys down and Eddie disappeared down a hallway.

When he came back, he handed you a t-shirt that read “Def Leopard: Tour of 88!”

“Go put this on and we can see about fixing your own.”

His eyes followed you as you entered their bedroom where the bathroom was located and shut the door. Removing your blouse, you could see a slight bruise forming where the strap of your backpack had been on your shoulder and some redness around your neck where Martin had grabbed you. Swallowing your pain at the sight, you put on the shirt they provided and folded his jacket, placing it nicely on the countertop.

Your eyes took in their fairly average bathroom, smirking slightly at the hair gel you imagined was Steve’s as Eddie’s hair was always wild even during class when he pulled it back. Both their colognes and bathroom products were side by side like any couples but the few things you knew about them had each personality standing out. Cigarettes were by the window near the bathtub where you imagined Eddie smoked as they took a bath together. On the floor by the shower, were some handheld barbells you imagined Steve used while Eddie took a shower or got ready so they could talk to each other about their days.

Walking back out to their bedroom, you noticed a guitar against the wall and grinned at its slightly cheesy 80s aesthetic. You remembered once hearing that Eddie Munson used to be in a band but for the life of you couldn’t remember the name. You wondered if he still played.

“Your student that you talk about…Y/N…she was listening to that song you played in the upside down. I just…it made me think of us…us finding you.”

What could he have meant by that…

Your gaze shifted to their dresser that had a vanity mirror attached with pictures taped to it. There were so many images of them together that made your smile widen but there were also photos of Steve with a young lady you remember seeing around Hawkins. She used to work at Family Video until a few years ago but you weren’t sure where she moved on to from there. Did you remember Steve there? No… you were pretty young though and focused on your own carefree life.

There were pictures of Eddie with the Hellfire club. They were still active when you went to Hawkins High filled with a cool group of kids you hung out with from time to time. There were whispers of the man that created it but everyone in the club always said good things about the former Dungeon Master.

They must have been in two different worlds in high school.

What must have happened to bring them together?

“Steven, you need to calm down.”

The sound of Eddie’s voice caught your attention after something loud slammed in the kitchen. You tiptoed down their hallway and paused on the other side of the wall.

“Fucking asshole kid, I swear to God.”

“Baby, it’s not the first time someone has said those things to us and it won’t be the last especially since we chose to stay here.”

“We didn’t exactly choose and that’s not why I’m upset.”

“Why then?”

“She…she seems like a nice girl.”

“She IS a nice girl.” Eddie sighs as he lowers his voice. “Steven, she’s a student and a lot younger than us.”

“Not a lot. Jesus, you make us sound ancient. She’s, what, how old you were when you graduated high school.”

“Hey, ok first off, rude.” They both giggle making you grin. “Second, again, she’s a student. She’s MY student. I could get in way more trouble than you.”

“Like that’s ever stopped you.”

“I swear, sweetheart, don’t we have enough chaos fucking hiding our relationship?”

“Oh, come on, Ed, you don’t like her?”

“I didn’t say that. I just… yeah, she’s beautiful and adorable and… fuck. We shouldn’t talk about this with her here.”

Collecting your bearings, you walk around the wall and knock on it lightly.

“Hey, there she is. I, uh, I fixed your backpack. Let me, um, see if I can salvage this top for you here.”, Eddie smiles as he takes it from your hands and heads for their couch.

“I didn’t know you could sew.”

“Mhmm. I can’t like whip up a brand new outfit or anything but I can patch things together.”

“Are you alright? Do you need any Band-Aids or an ice pack?”, Steve asks from his place by the counter.

“No, I’m ok. My throat is a bit sore but…” You don’t even finish your sentence before he’s turning around and grabbing an ice pack from the freezer, wrapping it in a rag, and sitting in front of you on their coffee table to place it on your neck. “Thank you. I like being choked but not like that or by that asshole.”

They both glance at each other as you blush.

“Yeah, probably not a joke to make right now. Sorry.”

“You apologize a lot.”, Eddie says from behind you.

“Sorry.” They laugh making you grin to yourself as you look down at your feet. “I hope I didn’t get you in trouble. I’m not…actively…trying to do that.”

“Oh, no worries, honey. Trust me. What is he going to say? ‘Coach Harrington kicked me off the team after I drunkenly assaulted a girl?’ I’m pretty sure the dean will side with me on that one.”

Your silence makes them nervous and they exchange another look.

“What are you thinking about, Y/N?”

“I’m thinking about how I never expected Martin to do what he did. He’s been mean to me since freshman year but never aggressive like that.”

“You know that wasn’t your fault, right, princess?”

“Yeah, I know. I…I…” Unable to control them, the tears began to flow and a ring laced hand delicately reached for your shoulder, moving the things in his lap aside so he could hold you to his chest. Steve placed his own palm on your jeaned thigh and comfortingly rubbed against the material.

Once again you were engulfed in the scent of Eddie’s cigarettes and cologne as his cheek rested on the top of your head. You couldn’t explain why but you felt safe here with their hands on you encased between them.

It had been a few months since your last relationship and you could feel yourself dropping into that particular headspace the longer they comforted you.

“I’m…I’m also thinking…about what I saw that night…in the locker room. How you two took care of each other…”

All movement on your body ceased as they even held their breathes.

“H-How about we get you home, Y/N? I can give you this shirt after our next class.”

Eddie lightly pushed you to the side as he tried to stand but you hastily grabbed his arm stopping him.

“I heard you. You said I was beautiful and sweet.”

As your little voice flowed through his ears, his eyes squeezed shut trying to keep control.

“Y/N, maybe, he’s right. Maybe, we should get you home before—”

“Before what, Steve?” This was the first time you were using his name out loud and the notion sent tingles all through your body feeling like a little girl who misbehaved.

“Hey. You show him respect, little girl. That’s Mr. Harrington or sir.”, Eddie scolded in gruff tone.

“Edward…”

“No, Steven. Little girl wants to play with the grownups, then that’s how we will treat her. Now, we said, you’re going home. Grab your things and head towards the front door.”

“Why did you bring me back here, Mr. Munson? You could have taken me back to my dorm but you didn’t. Why?”

“Because people shouldn’t be seeing a professor drop off a student on campus.”

“But Steve said he was taking me to your house out loud to Martin.”

The man’s hand firmly came down on the side of your thigh making you yelp as you bit your bottom lip.

“He said show me respect.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Harrington.” Placing your hand on top of his, your thumb tenderly ran along his skin as you leaned against Eddie’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, Mr. Munson. Like I said…no one has ever taken care of me or looked out for me the way you two do with each other.”

You were slightly surprised when his fingers gently came around and brushed your hair away from your face.

“We brought you back here because we thought you were safer with us here. After what he did, we thought that’s what you needed.”

“Am I not safe here?”, you whisper as you can’t help but rub your thighs together.

“Y/N… Eddie and I have been through a lot. What you saw in my office isn’t always how we are when we’re intimate. We’re not always…soft.”

“But I promise you, princess, we are nothing like Martin. If you wanted to leave…right now…that’s ok. We can take you home or call you a cab if that makes you more comfortable.”

He was giving you an out; they both were. You could leave right now and the three of you could pretend this never happened. You could pretend that Steve’s large hand on your upper thigh wasn’t turning you on as you thought about how those long fingers would feel inside of you. You could pretend that Eddie’s touch wasn’t getting progressively slower as the pads of his own fingers traced your cheek making your pussy clench around nothing. You could pretend the notion of doing something you shouldn’t and being at the mercy of these two men’s wills didn’t drive you crazy. You could do that…

Or…

“I don’t mind it not being soft, Mr. Harrington. I trust you and Mr. Munson.” Both men exchanged on final look of caution before your last sentence pushed caution to the wind. “Please, I need you.”

“I think since you saw us in vulnerable position we should get the same courtesy.”, Steve replied in a much huskier tone than before. Taking your hands in his, he pulled you to your feet and pushed the coffee table out of the way before taking the seat you had just been in. On impulse, Eddie leaned closer to him as the other boy wrapped his arm around his shoulder.

“Go ahead, Y/N.”

As your eyes shifted between their heavy gazes, you lifted off the shirt he gave you, unbuttoned your pants, and shimmied them a bit clumsily down your legs.

You stood there waiting for more instruction as they continued to stare at your body.

“Did you see our cocks?”

“Yes.”

Steve smirked as his boyfriend began to kiss his neck while his palm traveled along his chest down his stomach.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Remember that, Y/N. I don’t like repeating myself and Eddie is a lot nicer than I am in here.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Harrington.”

Steve’s eyes fluttered when the metalhead’s palm grazed the bulge in his jeans.

“Now, if you saw or cocks, then why are you stopping?”

“You said…I should be vulnerable, sir.”

Your small voice had them groaning as Eddie fumbled with the pretty boy’s belt almost desperately.

“Fuck. Don’t move.” He commanded towards you as his head turned to capture his boyfriend’s lips. Lifting his hips, he helped Eddie blindly pull his jeans down just enough to free his length. As he started to lean over his lap, Steve hastily stopped him with a smile. “You don’t want to see her, honey?”

He chuckled as he focused his attention back on you.

“Do you feel vulnerable, Y/N?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Hm. Not enough to not finger yourself out in the open though, huh? I mean at least you had pants on.”

“I-I-I wasn’t…I wasn’t thinking—”

“No, you weren’t. Take off the rest so we can see you.”

While doing what he said, you watched as Steve pushed down Eddie’s pants as well and both men kissed passionately in front of you as they stroked each other’s cocks.

“Y/N, is there anything we should know? Anything we should avoid?”

“No, Mr. Munson.”, you answered, appreciating his soft tone as he asked his series of questions.

“You said you liked being choked but is there anything physical we shouldn’t do?”, Eddie groaned out as Steve lifted off his shirt.

You heard his question but couldn’t form an answer as your eyes starred at the scars that littered his chest. They looked like whatever wound created them was deep, possibly life threatening. What could have happened to him?

“HEY!”, he barked making you jump. “He said he’s not as nice as me but that doesn’t mean I’m easy going! Now, answer the fucking question, little girl.”

“I’m sorry, sir. N-No, I don’t mind being hit or p-punished. Mr. Munson, what happened?”

As you started to step forward, both sets of brown eyes glared your way freezing you in place.

“Do you know the stop light system?”, Steve growled in a much rougher tone than you were prepared for. Nodding curtly after reciting it to them, he got up and grabbed your arm, sitting you between them. “Now, we do have some rules, Y/N. The first rule is the most important. DON’T ask about our scars.”

“Our?”

Steve slowly lifted off his own shirt and tossed it to the side. He didn’t have as many scars as Eddie but they were just as deep and looked similar. Whatever happened must have happened to both of them.

“I’m so sorry you both went through…whatever hurt you.”, you coo as you reach out to graze your fingers down Eddie’s chest.

The darkness in their eyes faltered slightly at your sincerity and the metalhead took your hand in his, tenderly kissing the back of it.

“Second rule. You have to be vocal, Y/N. If at any point you feel uncomfortable, we need you to say red ok?”

“Yes, sir, Mr. Munson. “

“Good. Good girl.”

His praise made you giddy as you blush making him smile.

“Can I kiss you?”

“I have one more question, princess. Have you ever done anything like this before?”

“Yes and no.”

“Yeah, we’re going to need you to clarify that.”, Steve laughs.

“I’ve done rough stuff with dominate partners before. I’ve never been with two men before.”

The way you said the word men had Eddie’s eyebrow quirking upward.

“Are you trying to tell us you’ve only been with boys your age?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Why did you feel the need to tell us that?”

“Do we make you nervous?”, Steve asks as his fingers dance up your arm.

“Yes b-but not because of you two, Mr. Harrington. I just wanted you to know j-just in case I’m not as ‘experienced’ as you both.”

Eddie’s palms cupped your cheeks as he brought your lips to his. You weren’t surprised by the nicotine that lingered there but you were by the tingle that ran through your body as his tongue caressed your own. When he pulled away you tried to lean forward for more but his grip held firm.

“We weren’t expecting you to be, pretty girl. You’ve only ever been with these little boys but you’re about to be fucked by real men, sweetheart. Trust us, we know how to take care of you.”

You moaned at his promise, turning towards Steve to crash your lips with his. He was a much more determined kisser, his mouth and tongue sending that same shock wave through to your core.

“Have you ever sucked a cock as big as mine?”, he panted against your lips.

As you shake your head, his fingers grab your throat just below your jaw as if purposely avoiding where Martin had hurt you.

“What did I say? How do you answer us?”

“I’m sorry. No, sir, I’ve never sucked a dick as big as either of you.”

Sitting back, his palm moved to the back of your neck, guiding you down over his leaking tip as Eddie adjusted your body till you were on all fours for them.

“Fuck me, Steve. She is so fucking wet. Her pussy is just tripping down her thighs.”

“Aw, you like being a bad girl, don’t you, honey?”

“Y-yes, Mr. Harrington. I like being a bad girl.”

“Open your mouth.” Doing as he directed, you quickly kissed his slit making him mewl before fully taking him between your awaiting lips. “Yes, oh my god. T-That’s a good girl.”

Eddie’s fingers glided through your folds causing your eyes to roll as you bobbed your head.

“Steve, baby, Jesus, she’s so fucking tight.”, the metalhead groaned as his palm came down hard on your ass.

“Yeah, Y/N? Did that feel good? You like when your professor spanks you?”

Yanking your hair roughly he tugs you off of him as you continue to stroke him with your hand.

“I didn’t hear that, little girl. What did you say?”

“Y-Yes, sir, I like when Mr. Munson spanks me.”

At your response he spanks you again right as he guides two of his digits into your core. Gripping you tighter, Steve forces your mouth on him again and holds you still as he thrusts his hips allowing his cock to hit the back of your throat.

“Good girl. That’s it, Y/N. Keep your throat open for me.”

Abruptly, Eddie swats his boyfriend’s hand and tugs on your shoulder, guiding you down the hallway to their bedroom and tossing you onto their bed. After completely removing the rest of his clothes, he climbs between your legs and runs his wide, flat tongue through your pussy up to your clit.

“Oh shit.”, you moan as your back arches into the feeling before yelping when his palm smacks your cunt.

“Watch your mouth, little girl.”

“I’m sorry, sir. I’m sorry.”

Steve chuckles as he climbs in beside you both placing his knees by your head as his fingers grip your hair again.

“Can’t really blame her. I know how amazing your tongue feels. Then again, you may have some competition, babe, because her fucking mouth feels so good.”

Pride washes over you at his praise as you grip his cock and take him as far back as you can trying to continue to please him.

“I-It’s ok, honey. We can train this little throat. As—fuck—as you know, Eddie’s a wonderful teacher.” His boyfriend tosses him a smirk as his tongue flicks faster against your bud. “Are you going to cum? Cum, Y/N. Cum all over his face.”

Your hips grinded against him as the man’s mouth wrapped around your bundle of nerves and he pushed two of his fingers rapidly inside of you as the sound of your arousal to fill the room.

Steve backed away from you, allowing you to focus and breathe as your orgasm washed over you. As you came down from your high, Eddie lightly slapped between your legs making you jump and groan.

“Sensitive. I like that.”

Tilting towards their bedside table, he paused as their eyes met.

“Shit. I don’t have any condoms.”

“What?”, Steve almost wined as you tried to contain your smile at their desperate need for you.

“Steve, we’ve been together for almost 10 years. When was the last time we used a fucking condom?”, Eddie growled.

“We’ve been talking about adding someone to our dynamic for a while now.”

“Yeah but I wasn’t prepared for it to be tonight with a fucking student!”

“Excuse me.”, you finally pipe up. “I’m on the pill. I can understand if you still don’t want to but…I’m safe. And like I said, I trust you.”

Both men exchange a glance and you can’t help but giggle up at them.

“So how long were you going to wait before you said anything, huh?”

“Mr. Munson, you didn’t ask. I wanted to be a good girl and only speak when spoken to.”

They narrow their eyes playfully at you for a moment before Eddie grabs your jaw and tilts you till your face is level with his.

“You’re not cute, little girl. That little snarky attitude may have worked on those pathetic boys you were with but you’re in the bed of real men now. Don’t hide things from us you think we should know. Do I make myself clear?”

“Y-Yes, sir. I’m—”

Steve’s hand cuts you off as he pushes you back against the mattress.

“We know. You’re sorry.”

Taking hold of his shaft, Eddie taps himself against your pussy making you squirm as you open your legs wider for him. Grabbing your hips, he slides you closer and gradually guides himself into your dripping entrance.

“Fuuuuuck.”, he moaned as he slowly pumped his hips. “We are going to fucking ruin you for anyone else, little girl. Goddamn.”

“How does she feel, baby?”, Steve asks as he leaned towards him to lightly kiss his neck.

“S-So fucking tight, sweetheart, you have no idea. I want…”

“What do you want, Ed?”

“I wanna…fuck her into the fucking mattress.”

Your pussy fluttered around him at his words and his eyes that been closed shot open as he placed his palms on either side of you and started thrusting into you aggressively.

“You want that, you little whore. I can give that to you.”

Much softer than his partner, Steve turned your head and slide his cock back into your mouth that you eagerly sucked on relishing the taste of him. As he pounded into you, Eddie’s lips kissed along his boyfriend’s chest making the man groan louder as he ran his fingers through his hair.

Bringing his lips to his own they passionately exchanged a kiss that had you mewling as the long-haired man rolled his hips hard hitting that soft spot inside you repeatedly.

Eddie’s head tilted back as his jaw went slack and you couldn’t help but reach your hands up to run your nails down your chest.

“I’m…I’m…please…”

Steve moved back as the metalhead grabbed your wrists and held them against the bed as his face fell beside your own.

“You fucking ask me, Y/N. You beg us to let you cum. Shit. We have control in here.”, he whispers in your ear making your shudder underneath him.

“P-Please, Mr. Munson. Can I cum? I want to cum on your cock, please.”

His hair tickles your face as he nods and the action of him tenderly kissing your cheek pushes you over the edge as the coil snaps.

“Fuck, that’s it, pretty girl. Came so fucking hard on my dick. I’m going to fill you up, princess, ok?”

“Please…”, you whimper as he slams into you, chasing his high.

Your professor’s grunts filled your ear and you turned your head into the sound as he warmed your insides. As soon as he rolled off you, a hand took hold of your ankle and yanked you to the edge the bed.

“Hey, hey, honey. No, no.”, Steve cooed with a hint of sarcasm as he lightly slapped your cheek. “Open your eyes, baby. What color are you at, Y/N?”

“Green.”

His massive palm slapped you a bit harder causing your eyes to fully open as you leaned up on your elbows.

“Green, what?”

“Green, SIR!”

You’re suddenly turned on to your stomach as rough hands lift your ass in the air while another set takes hold of your wrists and pulls your top half down and forward.

“Get rid of the attitude, Y/N. You think just because you came you’re allowed to be disrespectful?”, Eddie growls as Steve spanks your behind. “Now, answer him clearly without the tone.”

“Green, Mr. Harrington.”

As he ran his tip through your folds, you knew even after taking his partner, he was going to split you in half.

“Fuck me.”, Steve moaned as he began pushing himself into you.

Eddie’s head tilted to the side as he watched your face scrunch together.

“You’re alright, sweetheart. Trust me, I know how hard he can be to take at first but it will feel good soon. I promise, baby.”, he soothed and kissed your lips.

“F-Feels…feels good…now. Fuck.”

The man behind you smacks your ass at the curse, pressing further into your cunt till his hips finally connected with yours.

“Still green, babe?”

“Yeeeees, sir.”

“Good.” Clinging to your waist, Steve pulled back till he was almost all the way out of pussy before roughly slamming back into you practically punching the air from your lungs.

“Oh my god!”

With a slanted smile, he pounded into you as Eddie watched from the side, sitting up on his knees to occasionally run his fingers down the man’s chest.

“She feels really fucking good, right? Our young, new little toy.”

“Goddamn, I’m gonna fucking bust like a teenager.”

“Wait, pretty boy. You need to feel her cum. Her pussy fucking chokes your dick, I swear.”

“Fuck, Y/N, are you close, little girl?” When you didn’t answer, his hand reached around to grab you throat and lift your back to his chest. “Still coherent, you little slut? I asked you a question.”

“H-Harder, Mr. Harrington, please.”

As his forehead landed on your shoulder, he did what you asked till the bed began to jostle underneath you. A jolt of electricity shot through your body and you mewled as Eddie rubbed circles into your clit.

You took their conversation as approval and your arm circle around Steve’s neck as you came.

“Jesus fucking Christ!”, he grunted as he took hold of your chin and turned you so his lips could mingle with yours as he pumped into you a few more times before releasing his seed inside you.

You were completely drained and slightly sore as he tried to delicately pullout of you while you waited for what to do next. Usually, the boys you were with did the minimal amount of aftercare, choosing to just cuddle with you which was fine. You were surprised, however, when Eddie informed you the bath was ready when you were.

“For me?”

“Yeah, princess, come on. It will soothe your muscles.”, he murmured softly as he took your forearm and slowly walked you to the bathtub and guided you in. Your head remained lowered as you listened to him maneuver around the bathroom, sliding on some boxers before lighting a cigarette and placing himself on his knees beside you.

Utilizing the washcloth, he cleaned you pausing when your hand suddenly grabbed his wrist as he attempted to clean between your legs.

“I’m sorry. Just sore.”, you whispered as you let him go.

Eddie’s eyes scanned you over and you heard him blow out some smoke from his lips as he put the cigarette down in a nearby ashtray. His fingers moved some of your hair back and he pressed his nose into your cheek while he continued to clean you.

“It’s ok, sweetheart. You’re still doing really good for me. I know your little pussy hurts from how we stretched her open but we got you, pretty girl. You took us both so well.”

As his deep, comforting tone continued to whisper praises, you keened into the sound as you winced, trying not to grab him again.

“I know, I know. I’m almost done.”

Tilting your head, your lips found his, both of you getting lost in the feeling as he dropped the rag from his hand so he could cup your face and hold you closer. A throat clearing distracted you two as Steve entered the bathroom.

“I, uh, I have some clothes for you here, Y/N, whenever you’re ready.”

Nodding, you allow Eddie to help you out and lead you in front of his partner who took a seat on the edge of the bed. His honey irises ran along your body, checking for extra care you may need that they inflicted but unlike your assault earlier the only mark they left was the slight reddening of their handprints on your behind.

“How’s your throat? I tried not to grab you where—”

Your kisses startled him at first but after a few seconds his hand slithered tenderly behind your neck as he kissed you back.

“I’m ok. Just sore…and tired.”, you reiterate as your heavy eye lids dropped.

“Ok, honey.” Steve’s hands held you steady while Eddie dressed you in what smelled like their clothes as you swayed in his grasp. “You did so good for us. You deserve some sleep. Would you like me to carry you to the guest bedro—”

Both men watched with amusement as your shook your head before climbing over him and crawling under their covers.

“I guess we can sleep in the—”

“Please don’t leave.”, you begged in a little girl voice that pierced their hearts.

“Why does she keep interrupting me?”, Steve chuckles as he gets to his feet and yanks Eddie into his arms to kiss his lips. “She doesn’t do that with you. Or does she in class?”

At the word the metalhead became silent as he kissed his partner’s shoulder and crawled into the bed in front of you. His palm softly caressed your face and through your hair as Steve got in bed behind you.

“You’re worried.”

“Of course, I am and not just because she’s a student. That’s just the frosting on top of the cake that is our problem.”

“That sounds delicious.”

“Steven.”, Eddie scolds as they both smile. “She’s so much younger than we are.”

“10 years. Not much.”

“Not to mention the fact, that we are already hiding OUR relationship let alone another with a young, student. She deserves to be taken on dates and to live her life. She deserves to be seen not hidden.”

“So do you, honey.”

“Steve… we decided a long time ago to stay in Hawkins for a reason. We can’t be run out of town by these homophobic small, minded idiots. They’ve just barely started calming down when it comes to me and what happened in 86. And that’s another thing. What if…what if something happens? What if Vecna comes back or any other fucking monster? We can’t drag her into that.”

“Eddie, you’re over thinking again, but I see where you are coming from. Let’s…let’s take it one day at a time, ok? Who knows. She may wake up and decide this is all too much herself. She may not want to be with some…old, broken-down college professors slash coach.”

“Oh my god, baby.”, the long-haired boy chuckles as he throws his arm over his eyes. “You’re not broke down. We just have some wear and tear.”

Your palm reaching out and pulling Eddie closer as you fully folded into Steve silenced them. They relaxed into you as your professor kissed your forehead and your school’s coached nuzzled into your shoulder as they drifted off to sleep with you.

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

@corkadymu @lilaclazer @aol19 @nailbatanddungeon

722 notes · View notes

imfinereallyy · 1 year

Text

Father Figures

pt. 2 here, and full version on ao3 here

The first time James Edward Hopper meets Steve Harrington is when Steve is thirteen years old. It is back when he is still pushing everyone to call him Chief Hopper, or at the very least James to sound more professional. It is mostly a lost cause, as he has just returned to Hawkins after his daughter Sarah's death and most people can't help but call him Jim and Hop in familiarity, in sympathy.

It didn't mean they didn't take him any less seriously though. In fact, his cold, grieving demeanor gave him quite the reputation around town. Made assholes like Lenny Byers and troublemakers like the little twerp Munson turn in the other direction when they see him. So Jim doesn't try to push the professional name too much. He knows people around here respect him.

They respect him enough to follow his word, they respect him enough to turn a blind eye when he takes an extra pill or two.

Jim doesn't think too deeply about his reputation until he meets Steve Harrington for the first time.

He gets a call from Benny. It's directly to his line at the station, instead of a general 911 call. He doesn't think much of it when he answers, most likely it was a non emergency from an old friend from high school. That's the only reason people call him most days.

"Chief Hopper. Make it quick."

"Jimmy." A deep, worried breath comes from the phone.

Jim immediately straightens. "Benny, what's wrong?"

Benny usually only calls for a laugh, or to invite him out for a drink. The guy doesn't care about too much, or ask too many questions. Hearing concern in his voice was alarming, to say the least. "Listen, Hop, there is a kid here. And normally I don't care, cause business is business, but it's two in the morning, Jimmy. And despite the kid wearing the most expensive pair of sneakers I have ever seen, he only has two dollars on him for a meal. He got all skittish when the plate landed too loudly. And I don't know..." Benny takes a deep breath before he continues. "...I just don't want to be at fault if this kid's trouble and some fancy parents come looking for him."

Jim can tell Benny wants to say something else, he doesn't push though. Jim Hopper tries to never ask too many questions.

"Alright Ben, I'll be there in ten."

———

When Jim arrives at the diner, Benny notices him and nods in the direction of the corner booth. And there, sitting with his head low and scarfing down a plate of fries is Steve Harrington.

Jim has never met the kid personally, but he knows his parents. Cold, calculating, and pretty much owns half of Hawkins. Jim is starting to understand why Benny has called him.

Jim slides into the booth across from the young boy. He's prepared to take the kid by the back of his shirt and drag him out of there. He doesn't need these kids to be causing hard-working people any trouble. But when Jim makes a thump in the booth, the Harrington kid's face snaps up in fear, and Jim's plan for an angry monologue just drops.

Because there, on Steve Harrington's jaw, is a bruise the size of Indiana itself. Jim's face remains gruff, but his body language softens. "Hey, kid. What are you doing here so late?"

Steve's posture remains stiff and small. "Sorry sir, I was just hungry and it was the only place open. I wasn't—I wasn't trying to cause trouble."

It's then, for the first time, Jim thinks that his reputation isn't one of respect. Instead, his reputation might something worse. Fear.

"Didn't think you were. Just wondering what a rich kid like you, is doing on this side of town, at this time of night." Jim doesn't say it like a question, just fact. He tries not to take it too personally when Harrington turns his bruised side in on himself.

"Would have uh—gotten something from home but we—I didn't have any food left. And by the time I was able to eat, everything else was closed."

"Able to eat—kid what are you rambling about. Let me call your parents to pick you up." Jim makes his way to stand but Steve grabs his wrist to pull him back.

"No! I mean—" he clears his throat "—not necessary sir. My parents left for a work trip tonight. I uh—don't have a number for you to call them anyway. They call me instead, they never have a solid line to contact. Nothing bad happens in Hawkins anyway, so it isn't something to worry about." The last line sounds practiced, like it is something repeated to Steve religiously enough it's become his own mantra.

Jim is starting to put it together. The waiting all day to eat. The bruise on his jaw. The lack of money for food. God, the kid probably walked six miles to get here.

Jim isn't stupid, he can connect the dots. But Jim also knows when not to push things. When not to rock the boat. When sometimes, even if it pains him, helping someone would be a lost cause. He thinks of Sarah briefly.

It's even worse when that lost cause is just a kid.

Jim decides maybe the best thing he can do for Steve at that moment is to ignore the obvious problem and offer him a bit of kindness. "Well, I can't have ya here this late. Could look bad for Benny. And we don't want to get Benny in trouble do we?"

Steve shakes his head immediately. "No Sir."

"Didn't think so. Why don't I drive you to the station? Don't worry I'm not arresting you. But we got a nice cot there, and you can get some rest. Then I'll drive you back in the morning when I clock out. Cause I'm still on duty and all. Can't be driving you back Loch Nora quite yet." Jim doesn't mention how he can see bags under Steve's eyes. He doesn't mention how it would be quicker to his house than to the station either. Jim maybe, just a little bit, wants to keep an eye on him. Even if it's only for a short time.

"It's okay I can walk—" Jim levels Steve with a look "—actually that sounds great. Thank you, Sir."

Jim nods with finality and starts to stand. "Oh and kid? Enough with that sir crap. I ain't Mr. Harrington." He almost says I'm not your dad. But that felt wrong somehow, giving Harrington senior that title.

"Okay, sir—I mean Hopper. Okay, Hopper."

---

As the years go by, James Edward Hopper keeps an eye out for Steven James Harrington (Yes he looks at his file for his full name. Yes, it makes him feel some sort of way he has his name as his middle name and not his father's. Richard would make a horrible middle name anyway). At first, it's drive-bys to see if anyone's home. Giving the kid a ride if he sees him walking. Swinging by a basketball game or two, to see how he's playing.

Then it turns into busting his ragers. Hauling him in for the night not to arrest him but to sober the kid up. Pulling him over for driving while intoxicated with that dumb Hagan boy.

Jim wants to be mad, he does. He even yells at Steve sometimes. But he can't find in him to be mean to him, not really. Not when he's pretty sure the only thing Steve has consumed in days is alcohol. Not when even though he has gotten much bigger, and the bruises are less visible, Steve never ceases to flinch when Jim grabs him.

So mostly, Jim either just drives him home or brings him in, giving him a sandwich and bed for the night.

Around when Steve is sixteen though, things get worse for Jim. He becomes more frustrated, with Steve, with his job, and with this town. He takes more pills. He neglects his job. He forgets Steve.

Then the Upside Down happens for the first time. Jim tries to better himself for Joyce and the kids. He mainly though does it for El. His second chance, his new reason for trying, his daughter.

Jim knows it's okay to get a little lost in taking care of her. That it's a good thing, and she deserves his full attention.

He does feel a bit of guilt though, after round two of the Upside Down. When Steve Harrington sits in Joyce Byer's living room, looking like he went ten rounds with a semi.

The kids are all over him (including Mike which shocks the hell out of him). Dustin is trying to stop the bleeding on his face, Lucas is holding ice against his head and even El, who Steve met for all of five minutes, is sitting beside him on the couch, holding his shoulder up. There is a look in El's eyes as she stares up at Steve. Like she can see through him, like she knows him. Like she understands him.

Jim feels his heart break a little.

He approaches Steve in a crouched position. "Hey kid, I think we better take you to a hospital. You look like shit." He is sure there is a better way to say it, but Jim Hopper is a blunt man and that was never going to change.

The redhead, Max, snorts. "That's honestly the nicest way to put it."

Steve glares, Jim can't decide if it's at him or the kids. "No. I'm okay."

Dustin shouts, "Steve you are most definitely not okay. Hop's right you look like shit—"

"Language."

Dustin ignores Steve, "—and that's just externally. Who knows what's going on internally."

"C'mon kid, I can drive ya." Jim moves to help him stand.

Steve bursts with anger and pushes Jim away. "I said no. And you're not my dad."

Jim's jaw tightens and he resists the urge to scream back: and thank god for that.

El speaks before he can yell back. "You're hurt." It's soft, it's demanding and it's so very El. Jim watches Steve crumble back into the couch.

His voice is rougher than before, but much more gentle, "No hospitals."

"Okay. At least let Joyce look at ya. She used to be a nurse." Jim puts a hand on his shoulder, careful not to jostle him.

"Okay, Hopper. Okay, Hop."

———

After that, for a little while, Jim tries to look out for Steve again. It's harder this time though. He's more independent and harder to catch sight of. When he does see him, one of the gremlins is around him, and he can't check-in. And Hop has El, and he can't neglect her in favor of Steve. He tries to balance it out, but in the end, Steve isn't his kid.

Jim finds a small loophole though, which is El herself.

He worries about her every she since she ran away and he didn't even notice. And he knows Steve, like him, has a soft spot for the kids. So under the guise of babysitting, Jim gets Steve in his cabin once a week. So someone other than Joyce or Jonathan (or horribly, mike) is spending time with her. Sure, he's not there to keep an eye out for Steve himself, but it's the closest he's going to get.

Besides, biological daughter or not, El is just like Jim. She has a habit of collecting strays. If it's not going to be him looking out for Steve, he can't think of anyone better for the job than his little girl.

———

After Starcourt, somewhere in a Russian prison, Jim thinks of Steve.

Every day, Jim thinks of El. Misses her. Longs to hear her laugh even longs to hear her yell back at him. Every day, Jim thinks of his daughter and mourns what could have been. But Jim knows she's being taken care of. Knows Joyce and the boys will love her, and take care of her. Make sure she knows nothing else but kindness.

He worries though, between those moments, about how there is no one there for Steve.

———

Months later, in Hawkins Memorial, Jim Hopper finds Steve Harrington in a hospital chair next to Eddie Munson's comatose body.

Jim has a lot of questions but doesn't get any of them out because suddenly Steve Harrington is right in front of him, sucking in a harsh "Hop," and then collapsing in Jim’s arms.

Jim holds him close, says nothing, and cries silently with him.

———

During the summer that follows, James Edward Hopper notices a change within Steven James Harrington. Despite the obvious PTSD the boy suffers, and the scars that litter his body, Steve is visibly happier than Jim has ever seen him. He laughs more, he openly cries more, and he loves more.

Steve's now living with Robin in a tiny two-bedroom downtown. He comes to family dinner with the entire party every Sunday. He shares a cup of tea (no more beer for either of them) and a cigarette every Thursday evening on the Byers-Hoppers front porch.

Most noticeably, the biggest difference Jim sees in Steve is Eddie Munson.

Jim once again isn't stupid. And despite being an ex-cop isn't a bigot (he couldn't find himself back at the force, the corruption is too much for him. And he himself, was never very good at his job). So he can easily come to the conclusion that Steve has a massive crush on Eddie Munson.

Dear. God.

It's not that he has a problem with Eddie being a boy, but it's the fact that out of all people he can choose from, Steve had to go and fall for the twerp who used to trip over his laces when running away from Jim for the third time.

Jim feels, after all the years of neglect that Steve faced, he could do so much better.

Steve is happy though for once, and Jim doesn't say anything at first. But it becomes so painful to watch. The lingering touches. The longing gazes. The nicknames (sweetheart, honey, dear god did he just say big boy—).

Nothing ever comes of it though, it's August and neither of them has done anything but pine. And Jim seems to be the only one who notices.

At first, he thinks it's cause everyone is being kind, and giving them room to explore themselves. But with everyone making jokes about Robin and Steve (from the kids) or Steve and Nancy (from Eddie), it seems like no one notices the excruciating flirting between the two.

(Except for maybe Robin, but Jim isn't quite sure Steve and she aren't one organism. He doesn't count her)

Still, Jim ignores it though. He has learned his listen from Mike and El. Getting involved makes everything worse.

That is until, the second week in August right before family dinner, when he finds Steve and Eddie early, sitting on the couch, with Eddie dabbing the blood off of Steve's face.

"What happened?" Jim is over on Steve's other side in an instant.

"Nothing Hop, it's stupid." Steve tries to shrug off, and he looks towards Eddie briefly.

Jim's vision, for a brief brief moment, is filled with unclear rage. It's enough to consume him and makes him impulsive. Jim can't help but think he got it wrong. Maybe the two are together, and Steve had fallen into a bad relationship. He knew that Eddie was trouble, but he didn't think about it being that kind.

And though he is being irrational, and being for once a little stupid, no one can really blame him when he hauls Eddie up by the collar and into his line of vision.

"Munson, did you put your goddamn hands on my kid?"

Jim can hear Joyce, El, and Will (the only other people in the house) all run out into the living room at the sheer volume of Jim's voice.

Steve sits frozen, Joyce and El yell at him to "put him down, oh my god."

And Munson? He starts to ramble.

"No. No! I would never, ever hurt anyone. Haven't we learned this by now? I can barely kill a spider. I have to put them in a cup and put them outside." Eddie chuckles nervously, waving his hands around frantically.

Jim's grip tightens and pulls him closer. He's pretty sure his vibrating at this point.

Suddenly though, Eddie becomes deathly serious. As if he just realizes what Hopper has said.

"Hop, I would lay down my life before I ever hurt Steve. There is no one in this world that deserves kindness more than him. And if I ever do hurt him, whether it be emotionally or physically, I give you full permission to beat me up. Hell, I'll probably throw myself at your fist."

Jim doesn't let go but stays silent as he listens.

"You see, Steve here decided to pull a you when some jerks wouldn't leave me alone at Family Video today. They were throwing around a bunch of slurs. Nothing I haven't heard before. And even though I could handle myself—“ Eddie gives Steve a look “Steve here always has to be the hero and decided to defend my honor. And of course, it just had to turn physical. And Steve decided to take on three guys on his own. Got to say though, he held his own. It was kinda hot honestly—"

Jim hears Steve choke a little beside them, startling him out of his frozen state.

"—And he only got a cut on his forehead from one of the dickwads class rings. I'm a little worried he has another concussion though. Believe me, Hop when I say, I am just as pissed at those guys as you."

At the end of his speech, Eddie calms down and even holds eye contact with Jim. He still doesn't let go of the twerp, despite being considerably less angry. Well, at least at Eddie.

It's Steve though that finally gets him to let go. "Dad, please put Eddie down."

Steve says it like it's nothing. Steve says it likes its the easiest thing in the world. But to Jim, to Jim it's the best thing he's gotten since El.

Instantaneously, Jim drops Eddie back on the ground and scoops Steve into a bone-crushing hug. "You got to stop scaring me like this kid. Can't lose you again."

Steve's almost his height now, so he tucks Steve's head into his shoulder and lays his head on top of his hair. He hears a muffled, wet "I'm sorry" against him.

Jim chokes back tears as he says, "No, no you got nothing to apologize for. Just be more careful. Okay?"

Steve releases himself from his hold and looks at him. "Okay, Hop. Okay, Dad."

Jim ruffles his hair without jostling his head too much. He thinks he would do anything for his kids. Including pushing along this nightmare of a pining contest.

"And if you like him I like him too."

"Huh?" Steve says confused.

"Eddie here. If you like him, then he's okay by me."

Steve goes to stop Jim, but he's already one step ahead. "But if he hurts you even in the slightest, you're watching me dig the grave I'm going to bury him in. Understand?"

Steve blushes from head to toe and nods frantically, knowing if he protests it will only make the conversation longer. The room is silent until Eddie speaks.

"Don't worry Hop, I'll dig the grave for you." Eddie's voice, despite the threat, is filled with delight, wonder, and hope.

My work here is done Jim thinks as he gives the boys one last nod and leaves the room.

And if later, if Jim sees Steve and Eddie holding hands at the dinner table he doesn't comment on it. And if he sees Eddie give Steve's knuckles a light kiss, and whisper something that almost looks like "I love you", he only smiles at the two boys. Because if one more person loves his boy, it's a win for him.

Because James Edward Hopper, thinks his son Steve deserves that and so much more.

———

okay I spent waaaay too much time on this (as per usual) but I wanted to dive in a little more on Steve and Hoppers relationship (and how it impacts Steve and Eddie). I feel like a lot of fics makes them distant friends (which is canonically correct I guess) or surrogate family with no explanation. And I like the idea of them slowing building a father son relationship. Really leaning into you choose your family. I know people have mixed feelings about Steve calling him Dad (honestly sometimes I too think it’s cringey) but sometimes I love it and that boy deserves a good father figure. Even though steddie doesn’t come in until the end, I think it all really blends together nicely. Also in my head either the boys are both out to each other, is at least it’s heavily implied or is a known safe space they are in. We do not support outing people in the house. It’s probably a one-shot, but maybe I’ll add more snippets later on. For now it felt like a good place to stop.

As always I hope you enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed writing it. I just zoned out for like two hours as I wrote it. It kinda made me emotional I’m not going to lie.

part 2 here and the full version on ao3 here

2K notes · View notes

imsodishy · 5 months

Text

The Harringtons have been separated for years but no one knows. They maintain a polite fiction for the sake of their waspy reputations, but they don't actually live together.

Only one of them is ever in town at a time, excepting times and events where they're obligated to appear together. They've got a schedule for who's in Hawkins with Steve, the other one on a 'business trip' or a 'retreat' whenever the subject comes up, Steve's only seldom left completely on his own, when it actually can't be avoided.

It makes it astoundingly easy for Steve to play a little shell game after he moves Billy into the house, and keep them both fuzzy on the details of just how often his 'friend' is around. Because even though one of them is there, they're never really there.

Which gives Billy the unique opportunity to observe just how different Steve is with each of them.

He's endured completely silent meals with Mr. Harrington. Stiff and cold, tension so thick you could cut it with a knife. On the rare occasion either of the Harrington men actually have to ask the other a question they largely get a grunt, vaguely affirmative, or disapproving or whatever (mostly disapproving) in reply.

When Mrs. Harrington is around there’s constant light sounding chater where no one's really saying anything, but also they're both somehow being shockingly passive aggressive at all times. Neither of them ever acknowledge that fact.

There's always a butt load of tension, but never any blow-up, and it leaves Billy in a weird limbo state of stress for weeks until he finally breaks and starts a fight with Steve about it (cuz that's his version of talking about it, they both have problems).

Anyway, Steve ultimately realizes he'd become blind to the background radiation of it but he is also extremely stressed living with his parents and they resolve to get their own place ASAP!

#harringrove #steve harrington #billy hargrove #the harringtons #category 5 wasp steve my repressed baby boy #it's all very foreign to billy #dishy writes #is this a brand new harringtons scheme? i dunno

155 notes · View notes

hairmetal666 · 1 year

Text

Eddie is 10 when he get his first kiss. A lot of people wouldn't consider it a real first, It's a dry press of chapped lips, chaste and sweet, but it remains the best kiss he's ever had, the one that means the most.

It's the summer before he moves to Hawkins--spending the school break with his Uncle Wayne--before he's known to the town as a loser weirdo freak, and he makes a friend. A boy golden bright as the sun, who steals Eddie's heart at first glance and keeps taking it again and again and again--not by force, but by his pure kindness, by his surprisingly wicked sense of humor, by the joyful way he experiences the world.

They run through the woods of Hawkins, ride bikes until the streetlights glow, swim until they fall asleep on a pool lounger--loose limbed and exhausted, spend their nights in a tent in the wide Harrington backyard. He's not known around town yet, so the parents don't hate him, call him trash, fear for their child's reputation. He's just a boy still, his faded clothes and worn tennis shoes can be blamed on northing more than the consequences of a summer spent outdoors. Though, maybe it's just that Mr. and Mrs. Harrington aren't around enough to notice.

On his last night before he returns home to his parents, they make a fort in Steve's bedroom, find all the blankets and pillows in the house, create a cozy structure just big enough for two. They share all their secrets, their hopes and dreams, and as night becomes morning, Steve whispers, "Eddie...can I kiss you?"

Yes is the only possible answer he can give, and as Steve's mouth touches his, Eddie knows he will never love anyone else, not for as long as he lives, not if they never even see each other again.

He belongs to Steve Harrington, body and soul.

An expanded version of this is live here!

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #ficlet #drabble #fluff #sweet #first kiss #childhood sweethearts #childhood friends #alternate first meeting #eddie munson loves steve harrington #to be continued?#i was going to write more but liked this part too much #golden boy steve harrington

568 notes · View notes

inklessletter · 1 year

Text

Is it chill that you're in my head ('cause I know that it's delicate)

Read it on Ao3

Steve Harrington has a lot to be thankful for, and he owes his friends almost everything he is at the age of nineteen. He has learnt about humility, self-criticism, tolerance and kindness. He's the best version of himself so far. He has rebuilt himself a few times now thanks to his friends, and there's nothing he can do to express his gratitude but to be as attentive as humanly possible. He doesn't wait for Dustin to ask him to take him to whatever nerdy camp he's going that summer when he's offering to take him across the state; he doesn't expect Lucas to give him a ticket for his next game because he's already bought one; he's front row at any gig of Robin's band; he's at The Hideout on Tuesdays to see Eddie; he shows up to Max's almost daily to help her with her recovery exercises; he offers his place to whatever event, doesn't matter if it's a Hellfire occasional session or Erica's unicorn theme birthday party. It. Doesn't. Matter. Whatever they want, if it's in Steve's power, he'll provide.

And he's happy. He's content with that.

Glad to be of service.

It doesn't really sting that Dustin does not hug him after leaving for three full weeks, or that he doesn't send the postcard he said he'd send. Steve's sure he must have been really busy.

If Lucas glances at him after the game and waves, but doesn't stop to say hello, it's okay. He's been that age, he wants to be with his friends to celebrate.

If after every band concert Robin has this chance to go with Vickie and the others (but especially Vickie) to have a milkshake, he's not going to be upset because good for her. You rock, Robin. She'll tell him all about it later, probably.

If Eddie's bandmates don't like Steve enough to actually spend more than half a beer with him after every concert until Steve makes up an excuse to flee, I mean, maybe he was a jerk to them back in high school. He doesn't remember them, though, but he didn't remember Robin either, so.

If Max only grunts and gets half mad at Steve for forcing her to do her recovery exercises, that's fine, because she's been through so much, she deserves to be cranky. It's not personal.

And if it is not personal the kids not thanking him after the rides, or the parties, or the Hellfire sessions at Steve's (to which he had bought snacks and soft drinks), it makes no sense for Steve to be a little bit hurt. It is not personal, it is not intentional, and Steve owes them so much. They deserve to be spoilt.

It is okay.

It really is.

So, when after one of Eddie's concerts, the metalhead offers Steve to bail and go somewhere else, it's new. Yeah, Steve can do new.

"Are your bandmates going to join us?" Steve asks, beer can in hand, sitting on a bench.

"Nah, I doubt so. We kinda, uh, had a disagreement."

"Yeah? What happened?" Steve jumped in helpful mode way too quickly.

"They were being assholes."

Steve looked away. "Is that so? Were they mean to you?"

"Nop. They were mean to you. So I told them to go fuck themselves."

Steve froze. "You didn't have to do that. I know they don't like me, it's okay. They're not exactly subtle."

"Yeah, Gareth's a bitch when he wants to. And that is, uh, most of the time. And yes, I did have to do that. You've been real supportive showing up to every gig, y'know? I appreciate that. And stayin' after."

And there it was. Steve gulped and the hidden smile faltered when he felt the heavy knot in his throat.

"And so, I realized that we don't spend enough time together. I know it's not ideal I got this conclusion because my friends are absolute jerks, but, yeah. Let's do whatever you want, Steve."

Whatever he wanted?

"Whatever I want?" What the fuck.

"Yeah. What do you do? I mean, apart from being a good friend and stroll around being painfully handsome and shit, what do you do? Do you play a ball game? Read books? Chess? Bowling? If it's any sports, please, remember I wear leather, and I have a reputation to—Steve? You okay, man?"

Steve was far from okay. Steve was listening to Eddie rambling about possible hobbies and Steve was sitting there noticing he almost answered the first question with "I drive the kids around." He was realizing at that moment that he couldn't recall when it was the last time he did something for him. And what was it? He used to have hobbies, didn't he?

He loved swimming, but he hasn't swum in ages. He had intended to take Lucas to play basketball some other time, but Lucas wasn't available. He—well, he liked movies. But he was easygoing, and Robin usually told him that he had to educate him, so he hasn't picked a movie to watch in a very long time.

And those thoughts must have been leaked through Steve's expression, because Eddie was now in front of him looking at him directly.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm—I'm fine. It's just—"

The knot in his throat made it difficult to talk. He was faltering.

"To be fair, I don't have any hobbies."

"Uh-huh."

"I really don't." Steve looked at Eddie, who was gazing back at him with a deeply dramatic expression of incredulity.

"So, you're telling me that all you do is be a good friend and be handsome. I don't buy it."

Steve laughed a bit, and the knot seemed to ease a little, but now his hands were slightly shaking.

"I mean, I used to have hobbies when I was a kid, but not anymore."

"Why?"

"What do you mean 'why'? I'm an adult now, I don't have time!"

"I'm an adult now. I'm literally older than you and I run a D&D club and play in a metal band."

"Well, maybe you organize your schedule better, I don't know."

"Ok, let's say it's a matter of organization. What would you like to do?"

"Are you serious right now?"

"Yes!"

"Come on—"

"Steve—"

"I don't know! I don't know, okay? I have no clue what I'm into, I—I can't really—I'm just—it's fine if we do whatever you want, Eddie, really."

It wasn't fine. There were a few seconds of silence, but they fell after that in an easy conversation about music, and then they talked about the brats, and then they took another beer. It wasn't bad or awkward, Eddie had the superpower of making interesting any place he was in, but Steve felt uneasy after that conversation.

When he came back home at almost two in the morning, he realized that he didn't know basic stuff about himself, such as what he did like. He didn't recognise himself in the mirror. He got lost somewhere in rebuilding himself; he couldn't even remember who he was, beyond the lingering feeling of shame of his past self.

He cried himself to sleep.

Eddie started showing up unannounced, and Steve found himself enjoying his company. Eddie suggested different shit to do every day. "Let's go to the movies, you pick", "hey, some friends play tonight at a pub, it's not metal, I swear", "I brought these board games, maybe you like them", "wanna go play pool?", and stuff like that. Steve agreed easily to anything Eddie proposed.

He liked Eddie before, but after Steve realized that Eddie was actively trying to find whatever Steve loved, a warm swarm of butterflies settled in Steve's stomach with no intention to leave. It's not like Steve hasn't questioned his sexuality before, especially after knowing Robin's, but this new dynamic with Eddie made it really easy for him to acknowledge that he wasn't fully straight. Eddie made him feel warm, and safe, and cradled, every single time. And that was also absolutely frightening.

That day, Eddie had suggested staying home and baking a chocolate cake. It was the first time Steve actually asked if it was okay to leave the TV on, he wanted to watch the basketball game. While baking, Steve cheerfully told Eddie about the rules, and the strategies, and the teams, and that this was a final. Eddie actively listened, asking for some demonstrations of some things Steve explained, like a dunk, and Steve would use some dough and Eddie's arms in a circle position to actually demonstrate. The kitchen was so messy, it never stood a chance, but Eddie had never seen Steve laugh so freely, so sincerely.

The cake was in the oven, the kitchen smelled so good, and Steve and Eddie were cleaning the absolute disaster they've made. Steve's cheeks were a little pink.

"I'm gonna remember this", Eddie said.

"Hm?"

"This, as in baking and basketball. We should do it again."

Steve bit his smile, and focused on cleaning the countertop. The butterflies in his stomach were rioting.

"There's a game every week, you know."

"It works for me."

The week went agonizingly slow until the next game night. He had considered telling Robin about his feelings, but he wanted to keep it in a little bit longer, a little bit before speaking it out and it becoming real. A thing to deal with.

Just one more date.

The knock in Steve's front door stirred up the butterflies. Eddie was here already, it was game night.

When Steve opened the door there was not only Eddie, but the whole gang.

"Steve! We're baking carrot cake and cheesecake today!" Dustin shouted, lifting a bag with groceries. The kids said hi coming into Steve's house. Some went to the kitchen, some others were looking for the game on the TV. Still in the front door, Eddie smiled at Steve.

"What's going on?"

"See, I was hanging out with the gremlins at Hellfire a few nights ago and I might have told them you were into game night and baking, and they all wanted to come."

Steve was speechless.

"But why?"

Eddie grinned, full heartedly.

"I have the impression that the brats want to be part of your life, too. I might even dare to say they—we love you, Steve", Eddie's voice was low, and his gaze was fully pinned to Steve's eyes.

Steve smiled, shaky.

"Really?"

"Yeah, really," Eddie said.

There were a few seconds of silence, leaning faces, full of smiles and flustered cheeks.

"Come on, Stevie. The game is starting and there are unsupervised kids in a room where they can easily make a fire," Eddie said, closing the door, and taking Steve by the hand towards the kitchen.

Oh, butterflies, have mercy on him.

#stranger things #fic #ficlet #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie

484 notes · View notes

greenieflor · 1 year

Text

Demisexual!Steve is everything to me so have some of whatever this is

Steve didn’t really get the appeal of sex. He never had. It was fine in middle school, he would laugh at the stupid jokes Tommy H made and parrot back some version of his own, not quite understanding what he was saying. That didn’t matter, though; it made people laugh and clap him on the back. Then they got to high school. Tommy and Carol had been together “long enough to ask her, dontcha think?” Steve didn’t quite know what Tommy was going to ask her, but figured it didn’t hurt to agree. Now, Steve wasn’t stupid, he knew what sex was. At least, in the abstract. When he had asked his parents at age nine where babies come from, all he got was an “ask your mother” and a “oh you’ll find out when you’re older.” His health class sputtered through a quick, and frankly kinda gross, biological explanation and that was it. So yes, Steve knew what sex was, he just didn’t get the appeal. He figured one day, when he was married he would have sex- he did want six kids after all. But outside of some future marriage, Steve really couldn’t be bothered to care about sex.

As high school progressed, Steve went on more and more dates. He enjoyed flirting and was pretty damn good at it. He learned to be good at other things, too. How to unhook a bra in one move, where to kiss a girl’s neck to make her go wild, even learned how to like having sex. But despite the growing number of notches in his bedpost (and his growing reputation as a bit of a slut) Steve Harrington still didn’t get it. Until he met Nancy Wheeler. With Nancy, it was different. It took them a little longer to fall into bed together, Steve was surprised at how much he wanted it with her. He had never actively wanted to sleep with someone like this, and it had never taken so long for it to happen. When they did sleep together, Steve finally understood. He got what people meant when they talked about sex. Up until this point he had enjoyed it, sure, it felt good and was kinda fun, but he hadn’t felt the desire, the emotional release that came with sex. After the dust had settled from Nancy breaking up with him, Steve figured he had cracked the code. He started taking more time with the girls he went out with, waiting until the third or fourth date to take them to bed. It just wasn’t the same though. He felt like he was back at square one, just going through the motions, except now he knew how good it could be. He knew how great it could feel and he just didn’t understand why he couldn’t get that back. He graduated, got the job at Scoops Ahoy, and soon after meeting Robin thought that maybe, just maybe, he had found it again. That feeling of wanting. But it wasn’t quite the same. There wasn’t that same heat when he looked at Robin. After their conversation on the bathroom floor he knew why. He loved her, maybe more than he’d ever loved anyone, but it wasn’t the same as when he loved Nancy. As we have already established, Steve wasn’t stupid. He just didn’t care too much about school. But after Robin came out, he ended up reflecting heavily on who he was in high school. The things he laughed at, the slurs he had thrown just to fit in. So, on a day off, he drove down to Indy to go to their library, already knowing that the Hawkins library would have jackshit on queerness. He was nervous about asking for help, he never really paid attention when Nancy would tell him how the cataloguing system worked at the library, but he recognized the pink triangle pin one of the librarians had from something Robin had shown him a few weeks before. He finds what he’s looking for deep in the stacks and takes a few books to a small table tucked away in the corner and starts reading. And reading. Steve devours the books he pulled, barely noticing the growing headache or setting sun until that same librarian comes over to tell him they are closing in twenty minutes and “did you find what you were searching for?” “Yeah. Yeah I think I did.” Steve waits. He thinks. Looks back on his past relationships and wonders. He talks to Robin, but neither of them have the right words. Summer was over, his kids were in school and suddenly all they could talk about was this Eddie guy they played D&D with. Steve, despite his growing jealousy, has to admit he respects the guy a bit. Anyone who looks out for his kids is good in his book. And then spring break happens. A month later, Eddie is finally released from the hospital and Steve insists on taking him back to his house- his parents left a long time ago and made it very clear they had no plans to return. Steve checks Eddie’s stitches every day and the two start to grow closer. Love never sneaks up on Steve, it hits him all at once. Eddie had been living with him for a week when he was finally up to DMing a short game and seeing all the kids again. The house was filled with noise and laughter for the first time in years and Steve thought he couldn’t be happier. The night came to a close and the kids started heading home and suddenly it was just Eddie and Steve, sitting side by side on the couch with the debris of the night spread around them. Eddie collapsed into Steve’s side, letting out a sigh and a “god I love those kids but they are so damn loud.” And that’s when it hits him. He loves Eddie. Has for a while now, probably. And that is what was missing from all those attempted dates in high school. That’s what he had with Nancy that made it so different. What made it hurt that much more to lose. But he still didn’t have the right words. So he smiled, brushed a lock of Eddie’s hair behind his ear, and pulled him into his side. They could find the words together.

Update: wrote some ace!eddie!

#lav rambles #oh shit i don't have a writing tag #steddie #steddie ficlet #listen i didn't know where this was gonna end up #but here we are #demisexual steve #demi steve #asexuality used to just be considered the same as bisexuality #basically #so i figure demisexuality would be kinda similar #but not quite #uhhhh #eddie munson #steve harrington #platonic stobin #just a touch

607 notes · View notes

rainydayathogwarts · 1 year

Text

.·:*¨༺ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ ༻¨*:·.

You do not have permission to copy any of my work!! If you do, I will not be kind.

Join my 1k celebration!

Updated version of my masterlist!

I've written for Marvel, Harry Potter, Stranger things, Criminal minds. My requests are always open! Some of these pieces are pretty old, so they might not be as good as my new ones :)

**to indicate hardcore smut

*to indicate not quite there smut

Read my favourites from other writers here!!

STRANGER THINGS

ꜱᴛᴇᴠᴇ ʜᴀʀʀɪɴɢᴛᴏɴ

Roll the dice* - Steve wants you but your play thing named Nancy Wheeler does too.

Realising you don't hate each other at all

Watch don't touch** - Eddie x reader x Steve - In which Eddie loves to show people what they want but can't have and Steve just happens to want you, Eddie's precious girlfriend.

ʀᴏʙɪɴ ʙᴜᴄᴋʟᴇʏ

Coworker's ex pt.1 - You have an undying crush on your ex's coworker and aren't afraid to act up on it.

Coworker's ex pt.2

Coworker's ex final pt.

'In which Nancy and Robin finally start becoming friends until you come along.' coming soon...

ᴇᴅᴅɪᴇ ᴍᴜɴꜱᴏɴ

Reputation - 'In which Nancy leaves you a crying mess after you breakup and you find comfort in the person you'd least expect.' coming soon...

Watch don't touch** - Eddie x reader x Steve - In which Eddie loves to show people what they want but can't have and Steve just happens to want you, Eddie's precious girlfriend.

Polaroid Evidence pt.1 - Your brother Jonathan doesn't approve of your boyfriend even when he's always over, but your mom and younger brother love him.

ʙɪʟʟʏ ʜᴀʀɢʀᴏᴠᴇ

My girl - Billy makes it clear to everyone that you're his but a particular Steve harrington doesn't get the hint.

Caught - Reader sneaks out to meet Billy and gets caught.

'in which reader in fucking Steve behind his back and he finds out' billy x reader, reader x steve coming soon...

ɴᴀɴᴄʏ ᴡʜᴇᴇʟᴇʀ

Spiked berry punch - In which a girl tries hitting on you at a party and Nancy isn't having it.

'In which Nancy and Robin finally start becoming friends until you come along.' coming soon...

ᴘʀᴇꜰᴇʀᴇɴᴄᴇꜱ

He/you get turned on at the wrong time.**

HARRY POTTER

ʀᴇᴍᴜꜱ ʟᴜᴘɪɴ

Can't take my eyes off you** - The first time virgin!reader wants Remus to continue..

Sirius scolds - When Potter!Reader and Remus aren't too careful about hiding their relationship, Sirius gives them a scolding...

Precious, drunk boyfriend - In which Remus gets more drunk than ever and clings onto his girlfriend for dear life.

The Rabbit hole - In which remus lupin has a way with all the ladies, even the popular girls.

ʀᴏɴ ᴡᴇᴀꜱʟᴇʏ

Jealous, jealous, jealous girl - ** ron notices you upping the PDA when Lavender starts flirting with him and you decide to show her who he belongs to.

popular!shy!reader - * ron’s friends think you were the one who made the move but are shocked to find out the opposite.

the dream** - ron has a dirty dream and wakes up hard next to reader

Needy** - needy!ron misses you because you've been taking NEWTs too seriously but he finds the perfect moment to drag you into an empty classroom.

Overstimulation with dom!Ron**

Goodbye kisses that last longer than intended blurb

Opposite teams** - You play a Quidditch match against your boyfriend, who's a very sore loser.

ᴊᴀᴍᴇꜱ ᴘᴏᴛᴛᴇʀ

How they react when you tell them you're in the mood - James Potter edition

Not drunk

Jealousy, jealousy - You kiss Lucius to make James jealous since he was too slow at making the first move.

Teaching James how to dance blurb

ɴᴇᴠɪʟʟᴇ ʟᴏɴɢʙᴏᴛᴛᴏᴍ

Snake ring* - In which the twins pull you into a game of seven minutes in heaven.

Dry-humping Neville at a party**

Kiss and tell - In which a very aware y/n of Neville's crush on her gets the courage to make a move.

ᴏʟɪᴠᴇʀ ᴡᴏᴏᴅ

I already won - even though he very much lost the game, he still won you.

How they react when you tell them you're in the mood - Oliver wood edition

Blood, dirt and reunions - You almost die and reunite with an old ex-boyfriend... or not.

ʜᴀʀʀʏ ᴘᴏᴛᴛᴇʀ

Harry's bi awakening

"You knew?" "You didn't?" - In which the twins only just find out their sister is dating Harry.

ᴘᴇʀᴄʏ ᴡᴇᴀꜱʟᴇʏ

Just a swim - Percy's partner tries to get him to break a couple of rules.

How they react when you're in the mood*

'For the first time in his life, Percy pushes academics aside to focus on a girl, but his family doesn't know and thinks he has gone down a dark road.' coming soon...

ꜱɪʀɪᴜꜱ ʙʟᴀᴄᴋ

How they react when you're in the mood*

ᴄʜᴀʀʟɪᴇ ᴡᴇᴀꜱʟᴇʏ

Guilt trip - Charlie tries to guilt trip the reader to visit his family with him.

ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ ᴋʀᴜᴍ

What's her face - Rita skeeter being annoying

ꜱᴇᴀᴍᴜꜱ ꜰɪɴɴᴇɢᴀɴ

Tipsy - Seamus takes care of you when you're drunk.

all coming soon:

ᴅʀᴀᴄᴏ ᴍᴀʟꜰᴏʏ

ᴄᴇᴅʀɪᴄ ᴅɪɢɢᴏʀʏ

ɢɪɴɴʏ ᴡᴇᴀꜱʟᴇʏ

'even though Ginny is out to her family, she doesn't think the twins would appreciate her hitting on their best friend even though she has liked her for years.. So she does.' coming soon...

ᴘʀᴇꜰᴇʀᴇɴᴄᴇꜱ

Someone finds out you're dating

he gets turned on at the wrong time*

She gets turned on at the wrong time*

CRIMINAL MINDS

ꜱᴘᴇɴᴄᴇʀ ʀᴇɪᴅ

Our clouded ray of sunshine - In which the reader is the sunshine of the BAU, but the team finds her having a breakdown in the parking lot after a case.

Emily finds out

Suspicions - Spencer finally outs his and reader's relationship to the team, who inevitably already knew

Curtain Call - You're an actress. Opening night of the show, a cast member is killed. FBI finds out you were the real target...

ᴀᴀʀᴏɴ ʜᴏᴛᴄʜɴᴇʀ

Haunting - Reader wakes up from a nightmare on the jet and Aaron comforts her.

someone you wanna fight loverboy?

Skin on skin** - In which you forget about the hickeys on your neck and when your boss finds out, he's not happy about it.

ᴇᴍɪʟʏ ᴘʀᴇɴᴛɪꜱꜱ

Picture frames - In which you give Emily her things back after a messy breakup.

Open arms** - In which Emily tries winning her ex back in a dimly lit bar.

MARVEL STUDIOS

ᴘᴇᴛᴇʀ ᴘᴀʀᴋᴇʀ

Just a scratch - Peter gets hurt on a mission and the reader fixes him up

House of memories - please read this it'll make me happy

Nightingale - In which reader works for her evil dad and bumps into the man who's been chasing after her for months out of work..

ꜱᴛᴇᴠᴇ ʀᴏɢᴇʀꜱ

Flashbacks - After Steve's death the reader remembers all the moments he left her for Peggy and wonders if she fell for the wrong soldier.

ᴛᴏɴʏ ꜱᴛᴀʀᴋ

Lab partners - Singlemom!Reader falls in love with Tony after seeing how he is with her kid.

ᴛʜᴏʀ ᴏᴅɪɴꜱᴏɴ

Tony's assistant - When Thor meets Tony’s new assistant, there’s an immediate spark and the flirting begins. Tony goes out of his way to get them together

ʙᴜᴄᴋʏ ʙᴀʀɴᴇꜱ

Taco Tuesday - When your secret relationship is revealed on Taco Tuesday

ꜱᴀᴍ ᴡɪʟꜱᴏɴ

Sore bodies and baggy t-shirts * - The aftermath of one of Tony's parties

OTHER FANDOMS

ᴊᴇɴɴɪꜰᴇʀ ᴄʜᴇᴄᴋ

Maneater** - Jennifer may need boys to survive but there's only one person she wants.

Photographs** - Obsessed!Jennifer comes up with a plan for you to end up in her bed instead of the boy toy crush of yours.

255 notes · View notes

derangedhermit · 10 months

Text

Modern AU where Eddie is a Swiftie. Unashamed. Proud. His name on all of his socials has (Taylor’s Version) tacked on to the end.

His favorite album has been Reputation since the day it was released. That’s recently changed though. Dustin, one of the freshmen that joined his D&D club introduced him to Steve last Friday.

Steve. He can’t even think his name without making heart eyes. Steve is Lover. The album. The song. Steve is a love song that hasn’t even been written yet, but if anyone could write a love song that describes Steve it would Taylor. Maybe it will be Eddie. If he ever gets the courage to talk to Steve.

When Dustin introduced them Eddie went into a blind panic, called Steve “bro” and slapped him in the chest. It was the most humiliating thing he’s ever done, and he’s on his third senior year. Of course he already knew of Steve. EVERYBODY in this damn town knows of the Harrington’s and their trophy son. He just never thought he’d have to speak to Steve. But Steve was nice to him. He didn’t laugh at him. He let Dustin ramble about Hellfire and Eddie’s campaign. And Eddie’s crush went from the kind of crush you have when you think someone is cute to the kind of crush you have when you think you’ve met your soulmate. He was gone on Steve Harrington after one conversation.

That was a week ago. Seven long days. Hellfire just ended and Eddie is nervously running his fingers over the friendship bracelet he made for Steve. It’s stupid and he knows that. It’s something the girls that have been going to the Eras Tour are doing. He just really wanted to make one for Steve. He spent all week doing it. Of course, he chose the album Lover as his inspiration, choosing beads that are pastel pinks, yellows, and blues. For the lyric he chose “can I go where you go.” He’s aware that it’s a little wordy but he FEELS it when he thinks about being near Steve. He always wants to be near Steve.

He’s a coward. He shoves the bracelet into Dustin’s hand, mutters a quick “for Steve,” and slams the door in his face. It could be worse. He could have called Steve “bro” again.

He didn’t expect Steve to jog into the room, but Steve did. He clocked the bracelet on his wrist immediately and couldn’t stop his smile. He was completely unprepared for Steve to tug him close by his belt loops, but he went willingly.

“Lover doesn’t seem your speed, Munson.”

He wants to kiss that smirk off Steve’s face.

“You’re Lover.”

82 notes · View notes

conanssummerchild · 7 months

Text

stranger things characters as taylor swift albums

i saw someone make a post abt this and i decided to make my own lol. ngl it was really hard to decide and im not even sure i agree with myself, if u think smth else feel free to tell me!

Dustin Henderson as Debut

To me Debut is about youth and first loves and messing up and the lessons you learn, its about feeling like an outsider but also about being with the people you love, those who you dont feel whole without. I think that that matches well with Dustin's character, he's energetic and excited to learn and experience things, he cares for his friends deeply but can feel left out sometimes.

El Hopper as Fearless

I think Fearless is about new beginnings and second chances, about being young and in love, wishing for your fairytale ending and being dissapointed when real life isn't like a movie. It's about highschool and being brave, it's about family, found and otherwise. It's about being fifteen. El is such a pure character, she's brave and willing to stand up when she has to, but wanting to be more than that, trying to be a teenager, making the best of something bad.

Will Byers as Speak Now

Speak Now is an album about growing up but never wanting to, it's about trying to hold onto your childhood, about whimsical fantasies, about foolishness and the broken hearts that come with it, about loving and fighting and making up and hoping those special moments in your life are long lived. Speak Now is about innocence and the loss of it. Will isn't ready to move on and grow up the way his friends seem to be, he wishes that things could be how they used to because it was so much better back then, he loves bravely and says what's on his mind, but keeps some things quietly locked away, afraid.

Robin Buckley as Red

Red is kind of a lonely album, that of a people person who never has her own people in the end. It's a coming of age album about the realities of growing up and being forgotten, it's full of heartbreak and fear of rejection, it's a catchy melody with sad lyrics, but it is filled to the brim with burning red love and passion too. From the moment Robin was introduced she was clever and snarky, passionate and confident and lovable. Behind that she was a deep character, a brave one, she is undeniably, iconically her.

I KNOW this song isnt originally from red but i like it :(

Steve Harrington as 1989

If you asked me I'd say that 1989 is about partying and being young and having fun and being in love. It's about petty grudges and and love that feels all-encompassing, but is really just suffocating, it's about what people say about you and who you really are. It's about moving on and being clean and starting anew despite the strangers talking about what's not theirs to talk about. Steve is a character that has constantly bettered himself, constantly having to prove that he isn't the same person he was. He's fallen in love and had to fall out of it time and time again.

Nancy Wheeler as reputation

reputation is about revenge and also karma, it's about killing the old you but not forgetting her, it's about new loves and not letting yourself get pushed around, it's about how delicate life and love can be. It pushes the boundries of cold and seeming like you dont care. But you do. Nancy is an interesting character to say the least, she's brave and strong and she struggles with showing her emotions and care, sometimes hurting people because of it, but she tries.

Lucas Sinclair as Lover

Lover is warm and comforting like the sun coming out after a dark day. It's about doing your best to overcome hardships, it's about who you are because of them, not despite them. It's about letting go, letting yourself forget instead of holding on tight to the hurt, turning a fresh page instead of trying to change an already used up one. It's about love. Lucas is so kind and caring, he wants the best for everyone he loves and he loves so purely, he's a character who has been hurt repeatedly but has stayed strong. He's a lover, both romantically and platonically.

Mike Wheeler as folklore

folklore is a cold winter that seems to go on forever with no relief. It's sitting in a vast field of snow without a jacket by your own choice, it's about constantly trying and failing and everyone around you chastising you for not being better. It's about pulling up to the lookout and screaming into the emptiness to give you a reason for your pain. It's about failing in love and messing up with the one. Other people's pain seems to seep into you and you keep the burden of it. folklore is suffocating despair and the love you can only wish for but never have. Mike is the only one who I knew what album I was going to asign him from the start, he's a sad, lonely character who tries to help everyone but himself. His pain is invisible to those around him because he keeps it close and hidden, he lashes out and digs himself further into a hole he cannot get out of on his own.

Max Mayfield as evermore

evermore is the coldest autumn, the trees obscure your view but you've long since stopped trying to reach for the fading sun. The rain falls but you can only sometimes feel it, you try to pretend it's fine this way, yet you keep venturing deeper into the thick forest. The truth is you are stuck, and as much as you pretend you're not it won't stop the mud from sticking to your soles and trying to pull you in as you reject the branches reaching for you. evermore is what happens when love can't overcome all. Max is sarcastic and fun, but there's always that overlying fear and anger that she eventually falls into, she's hurt and she can't move on from the things that have happened to her.

Jonathan Byers as Midnights

Midnights is an album of staying awake at night, all alone in the haze you thought fit two. The things you've seen and done haunt you, they make you lose sleep, all you've lost and gained, all you never had to begin with and never will. It's simple really, you're on your own. Jonathan is a loner, he's lost so much and matured too much for his age. He never had relief from his responsibilities, always needing to be present. It's a tiring life to live.

28 notes · View notes

nephilim-tears · 2 years

Text

Steve Harrington x Reader x Robin Buckley

Warnings: F! Reader, fxfxm sexual relations, Billy slander, Word count:3k. ↳ Slice of life + Horror :: Pack your things we’re going to summer camp. Browse my catalog? You are responsible for the content you consume, as always read with care.

The warm summer breeze followed the children from Hawkins to the edge of a forgotten town bordering nowhere where Camp Cold Lake sits waiting patiently. Her newly polished floorboards squeak with excitement anxious to be scuffed up by fifty at most snotty-nosed high school brats. Time after time, year after year, they would come here as strangers and leave as something a little more than that. A ritual, without fail, bonded them together by joy, fear, and secrets.

Surrounded by acres of evergreen pine trees that stretched on for miles, a single file line of three caterpillar yellow school buses slugged to a stop emitting an exhausted sigh delivering the children to their final destination.

Fellow camp counselor Steve Harrington stool tall and proud brushing clean his white polo shirt tucked into his bright red pants that stopped midthighs. One at a time, clipboard in hand, he diligently took a headcount of the gaggle of children checking them off his list.

The flow abruptly stopped when Steve placed his hand out in front of a mop of curly hair. The boy was half of Steve’s size prompting him to hunch over saying something inaudible to the rest of the counselors. From mere feet away, you watched Steve’s stern face twist into an annoyed expression as the kid sassed him and rolled his eyes heading for the dining hall.

“That one’s Dustin,” Robin Buckley, colleague camp counselor and self-proclaimed extraordinaire whispered hoovering over your shoulders. “He and Steve go way back.” She tucked her identical clipboard under her armpits and proceed to fix the belt of her uncomfortably large red shorts that hang on her slender frame. She opted for the male uniform bottoms but even the smallest available size was too big, so she’d routinely seal Steve’s belts to keep them up.

You chuckled at her wiggling around, gesturing to your skirt that was almost as short as your cheerleading uniform, “I didn’t know that was an option for us, otherwise I would have gone for the shorts too.”

Her sandy brown hair swiftly swept her shoulder when she turned in your direction, “No!”

You quirked a brow up at her eagerness. Sensing the awkward atmosphere created mostly by her, she cleared her throat and began again, “Uh, ahem, I mean no. You look great. You look great in your skirt. Steve likes it—Harrington’s not all that but if you care, which it seems like you do, he likes it.”

If anyone knows what Steve likes, it’d be the woman he calms he’d platonically die for. Only having met them two days prior, you've grown quite fond of the disaster brunets from Hawkins, a town neighboring yours—which was even smaller, even sleepier by comparison.

Well, that was the case until a peculiar and dreadful incident prompted your town’s version of its satanic panic. A dead girl with her eyes gorged out, strung from the trees in a local park tends to ruin the quietest of reputations.

“...right.” You decided to spare her from the heat of the embarrassment that clung around her neck, suffocating her like an ugly, itchy, wool sweater in the scorching summer's temperature.

“Tommy Sheperd,” you held your clipboard up, “Is missing.”

Robin opened her mouth to say something but Steve cut her off, “I got off the phone earlier with his parents, they pulled him last minute and I didn’t get the chance to update the roster.” While you were all equally footed, Steve took initiative and fell into the leadership position effortlessly.

Even though the job was an unpaid community service requirement to graduate, Steve genuinely enjoyed his role serving as the middleman communicating directly with parents and camp directors and later relaying the information. It made pretty boy Harrington well-liked in the circle of ten senior counselors.

“Sorry for the trouble,” he backed away toward camp, “And nice skirt.” He threw a wink in your direction, earning an involuntary smile, it make the apples of your cheeks hurt.

“Told you so,” Robin whispered following Steve but not before she playfully tugged the bottom of your red pleated skirt.

For a moment, you stood alone watching her till she was a tiny figure disappearing in the sea of people. The waves of midday sunshine that washed the camp in a hazy glow made her hair soft hair look especially shiny.

SNAP went what must have been a twig jerked you from the trance. Somewhere behind the thickening of trees, between the sound of cold dew settling on their leaves, was it murmuring you heard? What you did not hear, was it hissing your name.

The sound stopped as soon as it began. The ground squished beneath your feet, it’s only a matter of time before the whites of your sneakers, socks, and shirts get soiled if you kept looking.

Deciding it was probably an animal native to the territory, you swatted a bug crawling up the side of your ankle socks and trailed after the others towards camp.

On any given day, walking into the dining hall was like walking into a cloud puffed with the smell of sunscreen, chlorine, play dough, and bug spray. Two whole weeks passed, three more to go. Marker in hand, you drew an x on the passing days on the calendar and read over today’s schedule.

Everyone was gearing up for an annual game of Capture the Flag, everyone except the Hawkins bunch. They huddled together at the head of a long table, trading tall tales of monsters and Russians infiltrating their town. In a manner, only children are privy to, you admired their little faces as they lit up with excitement and passion.

All except Dustin, he slumped over a bowl of oatmeal sludge stirring the contents around with a silver spoon. Steve waved you over with a smile, and a string of hello’s and hi's greeted you as you made a beeline for their table.

“Goofmourningh” Steve mumbled, popping another marshmallow into his mouth.

Steve isn’t a morning person but if all his mornings began with that smile you gave him, he might have to reconsider his stance.

Without a second thought, he dusted a stay eyelash that lingered on your cheek. A gesture that felt far too intimate to bestow upon someone he’s only known for a few weeks. He might have pushed a boundary however, you didn’t seem to mind, at least he didn’t kiss your forehead like he initially wanted to. That would have surely freaked you out.

“Hey! Stop. We won’t have any left for the campfire if you keep eating it all.” Robin snatched the bag from him and resumed her seating position—criss-cross on the chair picking, at a loose thread of her pajamas.

Motioning to Mike’s name tag, you asked, “Wheeler huh? Any relation to Nancy?”

Mike, not spearing you a glace deadpanned, “When I’m in public, no.”

Cutting through the crowd’s laughter, Dustin groaned loudly, “What am I eating, huh? Shapes? Texture? Where’s the flavooor, people? Get this shit out of my face!” He dramatically pushed the oatmeal away from him.

“Language!” Steve snapped.

You gagged at the sludge and pitted the boy, “Alright, everyone who wants something that isn’t..that, follow me to the kitchen. How do you like your tea, Dustin?”

“Uh, in a cup?” As he got up to follow you, Steve lightly smacked the back of his head in response.

A fiery redhead, Dustin, and Robin all made their way to the kitchen with you.

“That one is gonna try to get you to feed her s’mores for breakfast!” Steve shouted through his megaphone pointing at Max, “Do not acquiesce under any circumstances. I repeat, do not acquiesce under any—” His mouth hung open, offended before he could finish the sentence, Max flipped him off.

Perched at the top of the kitchen counter, sat a shirtless man waiting for the toaster to chime. Billy Hargrove, you’ve seen him around, mostly with his shirt off too. Typically he had an excuse, he’s one of the counselors stationed by the pool. When he isn’t there, he’s patrolling near the lake often with a cigarette hanging between his lips.

“Top of the mornin’ to ya, sweetheart.”

“We haven’t officially met, but I’ve seen you at the seminar,” you stuck your hand out waiting for him to cordially shake it.

“Yeah, I’ve seen you at the seminars too. It’s hard to miss someone so…delicious.” He hops down from the counter, eyes trailing down your body, closing the distance between you.

Instinctively you withdrew your hand and backed up a few meters till you bumped into Robin standing behind you. Almost as tall as him, she firmly positioned herself between you and Billy, “Beat it creep! She’s not interested.”

The ping of the toaster startled everyone in the room and Billy scoffed. He grabbed his pop tart, ruffled Max’s hair then exited the kitchen.

“You’ve met that guy before?” you asked, turning your attention to her.

Max’s cheeks reddened to the shade of her hair with embarrassment. Swiping a box of crackers, she tried to play it cool, “Well, he’s my brother so I’ve met him at home a few times.”

“So! Tea?!” Dustin clasped his hands together loud enough to diffuse the tension in the room.

“Can’t you guys at least give us a hint?!” Dustin flailed his arms around trying to cause a scene on purpose.

“No! It has to be a fair game. Now go with your team and capture some flags or whatever you’re supposed to do.” you dismissed him.

“But you’re our friends” he resorted to what had to be the whinest voice you’ve heard from him thus far. “What about what Gandhi said, huh? ‘Thou shall not betray thy friends.’” His lisp slipped over the s of friends.

Lucas, growing tired of his shenanigans decided to cut in, “He did not say—”

“Gandhi said something like that.” Dustin defended a stance you’re certain he didn’t believe.

“No.” Lucas, again.

“He wasn’t the one that said ‘Thou shall not—’”

“No!”

“For the record, I prefer the term overlords, not friends.” Robin grabbed Dustin by his shoulder spinning him in the opposite direction, giving him a little shove.

His ploy to stall till the game was over was unsuccessful, reluctantly, Dustin let Lucas drag him into the darkened wood sporting their arts and crafts red and blue shirts respectively.

Orange and lilacs swirled overhead the evening sun that hung low dipping beyond the trees. Except for the cook or the nurse, you stood alone with Robin in a nearly deserted camp letting the crisp air nip at your skin.

The eerie silence was quick to reclaim what was once a spirited camp meer minutes ago. You wondered if it’ll be like this when everyone leaves at the end of summer. It felt odd. You’d all grow up and move on as if you’ve never been here at all. The traces of your existence lost and forgotten by time itself; meanwhile, Camp Cold Lake will always be here, waiting. A constant living relic ripped from your collective memories, existing with or without you.

Over the glowing horizon, a counselor whistles somewhere in the distance signaling the capture of the first flag. “You should go get your jacket then come join us,” Robin broke the silence heading towards the whistle, “I think you left it in the arts and crafts cabin.”

By your jacket, she meant Steve’s. The varsity jacket that draped loosely on your frame and always smelt of marshmallows. He loaned it to her once and later, she loaned it to you. Between the two of you, it won't make its way back into Steve’s closet.

You entered the cabin, heart still light on the memory. The room was a mess, clearly, the kids had vacated in a hurry. Scraps of paper, discarded paint brushes, and half-eaten grilled cheese sandwiches occupied every flat, sticky surface.

The idea of leaving the mess for someone to find flickers and fades in your mind. However, no one else was here and if you let the mess fester, it’ll attract unwanted visitors from all sectors of the food chain. Besides game night would go on just fine without you, they had enough counselors on duty.

As you sank floor level to retrieve a stay paint brush a loud CLANK caught you off guard.

Swiftly, you whipped around to face the sound. The broom closet.

An avalanche of frost plunges into the room; the feeling of being watched made the hairs on the back of your neck stand attentive. Rattled to the bone, cautiously, you grabbed the nearest lethal object in your immediate vicinity—a baseball bat painted pink. Upon approaching the closet, you froze. There it was again. The murmuring, the hissing from a few weeks ago.

You ignored the little voice in your dizzy head saying to run and bit back the scream building in the back of your cotton-dry throat. The floorboards squeak in protest under your sneakers and your breath hitches when you swing the door wide open, ready for a confrontation.

In the heat of the moment, you hadn’t even processed the high-pitched squeal you emitted.

Consumed by adrenaline you flinched as the cold, murky gunk touched your exposed skin. Motionless, you stood there glaring at the bucket that came tumbling from the ceiling leaving you submerged headfirst in dirt—everything from your hair, shirt, and sneakers, soiled.

Another THUD followed by nails on wood—scratching interrupted any flow of tranquility or relief that should have followed.

The sound wasn’t coming from in the closet but from behind it. Outside. The person responsible for this was still lurking and laughing at your expense. Righteous anger and boiling hot fury melted the fear. Pink baseball bat in hand you rushed out the door, just in time to see the shrubs shiver past whoever ran into the woods.

Those damn pranksters were in trouble.

“Kids,” You scoff covered in dirt from head to toe.

You could decide whether you wanted to retaliate or abuse your role and dispense punishment, or both, after a shower.

Thirty minutes later, free of dirt and grime, you hugged the fluffy white towel closer to your body. “I hate this job” you mumbled, aggressively rubbing the lotion on your legs.

“But I love watching you do it,” Robin responded, her presence catching you off guard. Although it shouldn't, it’s her cabin too. And from time to time, Steve had a habit of barging in unannounced as well. Claiming the bathroom was cleaner and smelt better than the one he shared with the boys, he’d often leave smelling like your vanilla shampoo.

“I heard you scream and I came to investigate the commotion.” She stood tall in the room, cocky as ever.

“Ok, first of all. I did not screa—”

“You did too! Everyone heard you. What’s with the, uh?” She motioned to the bat propped against the wall.

“I…I just had a long day, ok? Since you’re here, can you gimme a hand?” You shoved the lotion bottle in her face.

She hesitated to take it, swallowing hard as she watched you turn your back towards her and loosen your grip on the towel, exposing more skin when it dipped lower making room for her to cover with lotion. At some point she must have stopped breathing, she engrossed herself, memorizing every freckle, every beauty spot on your back. It’s a sign of the times the second her hands—shivering, soft and dainty—touched your skin. Her slender finger traced your spine and stopped midway, neither of you dared to move a muscle.

You lift your head to meet her eyes welling up with tears, “We can’t do this,” she whispered “I never—This is wrong. I could get you in a lot of trouble if anyone finds out. I’m probably the last person on Earth you’d hook up with.”

Reaching around to face her, you lay your flat palm against her cheek, she leaned into it. “You’re ok Robin. You didn’t do anything I didn’t already want. Your secret’s safe with me.”

Knowing she would never make the first move, you seized the moment standing on your tippy toes and pressed your lips into her cherry-red pout. She moans at the contact, pulling your body flush against hers. Emboldened, she lets her hands roam from your hips to the curved slope of your ass with confidence.

You pulled back just in time to see the fear leave her eyes, a new softness takes its place. “For the record, you’re like the fifth person on Earth I’d hook up with.”

Robin scrunched her eyebrows, the cogs in her brain worked overtime to process the situation.

“Joke. That’s a joke, Robin. You’re supposed to laugh.”

And laughed she did—husky and melodic, it sounded like music to your ears. Shrugging she added, “Honestly, I would have been ok with being in the top five.”

Before you had a chance to respond, in barges pretty boy Harrington with his glorious chestnut hair tousling in the wind. His eyes are the size of saucers observing your reaction. Still wrapped in your towel pressed against Robin who had her hands firmly on your ass, “Well don’t stop on my account,” he grinned.

Despite your compromising position, ever so slightly, you swooned at the sight of him. Robin exaggerated a sigh, “He’s not all that y’know.”

“Can I watch?” Steve asks, enthusiasm bubbling under his best doe eye impression, “I promise you won’t even know I’m here.”

“That’s creepy even by your standards Harrington. If you want to stay you gotta make yourself useful.” You smirked, looking over at Robin to confirm she was onboard.

Rolling her eyes, she beckoned Steve closer, “One rule: Touch me and you’re a dead man Harrington.”

Steve wasted no time discarding his sneakers and shirt. He slots himself behind you nibbling under your ear, “We’ll take good care of you don’t worry, you’re our girl now.” He shared a mischievous look with Robin.

His hands travel to your chest pinching the buds of your hardened nipples under the fabric.

The towel drops to the floor leaving you bare in front of them. You leaned back, Steve welcomed your weight, supporting you with one arm around your waist holding you up, “I’ve been meaning to tell you— you keep me up at night. So perfect,” he whispers. Robin got down on her knees and hiked your leg over her shoulder, kissing the soft flesh up your inner thigh, “I bet you taste just as good too.”

Evidence of your anticipation dripped down your thigh, Robin dragged her eager tongue and devoured your wetness, delighted she hummed at the taste. Steve moaned at the sight and began to grind his hardened cock against your ass.

Slowly letting his hand drop from your nipple down to your pussy, he circled your clit with his index finger, Robin immediately followed his lead. The juxtaposition of hands grabbing at your body sent shivers down your spine—Steve’s rough and large, Robin’s delicate and tiny by comparison. Both of their fingers pull you apart in different directions causing your toes to coil in reflex.

Nothing but the sound of your excited squeals and wetness echoed off the walls. Disregarding the burning embers welling under your skin, you melt into the comfort and safety of their hands. For a split second, it was just the three of you in the wreckage of the world.

Robin was the first to break the streak of silence, “You owe me five bucks, Harrington.” she declared proudly pinching your clit.

“No no she’s into me too, so you owe me,” Steve responded, pumping two fingers in and out of your pussy. His rhythm is as gentle and steady as his voice.

With the very last of your cohesiveness you muttered, “Are you guys really having this conversation now?”

The duo stopped abruptly as a soft BUMP against the cabin made them both turn their attention to the door; thus ending the sweet moment between the three of you.

Steve steadied you on both legs and passed you the shirt he had discarded moments earlier. Robin stood by your side and tilted her head, curiosity getting the better of her.

WHACK!

SNAP!

Pandemonium erupted as the door forcefully flew open and slammed against the wall, splinters of wood scattering on the ground.

Billy.

His billy-shaped shadow splatted across the walls, swallowing up the room in its entirety. Robin gagged as Billy’s skin began to change and the scent of rotten eggs reached her nostrils. Everyone stared motionless in horror as his face twisted and his body began to transform. Bumps the size of coins surfaced on his skin. His usual pale complexion darkened purple camouflaging him against the velvet indigo skyline bidding you goodbye.

Billy leaned back, his spine cracked and popped as he screeched in agony. What looked like a tail cut through the air in swift fluid motions.

His face stretched, his hair dissolved into his skull, and his eyes sank into his elongated reptilian head. A long pink ropy tongue flickered across countless jagged rows of teeth, whipping side to side.

He flexed his claws—three on each hand and a deep rumble came from the base of his throat. The semi-translucent nictitating membrane darted over his wet slit eyes that remained fixated on you as he snapped his jaw in your direction.

Steve maneuvered himself between you and Billy, “What the fuck.”

#steve harrington #robin buckley #stranger things #Steve Harrington x reader x Robin Buckley #Steve x reader x Robin #steve harrington x reader #robin buckley x reader #steve harrington imagine #robin buckley imagine #reader insert

388 notes · View notes

sourwolf-sterek32 · 2 years

Text

Rock Bottom

Summary: Jonathan finds you out by the quarry after discovering the cuts on your wrist.

Pairing: Jonathan Byers x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: major talk/description of self-harm, cutting and depression.

A/N: Look after yourselves first guys. If this triggers you, please don’t read this.

I have posted an Eddie Munson, Billy Hargrove & Steve Harrington version of this already. Please comment other characters you’d like to see because ‘Rock Bottom” is becoming like a same fic but different comfort characters kinda thing

The thing with depression is that it has a floor. A rock bottom. And finding that floor is like a blessing in disguise.

When you hit it, that rock bottom, nothing can get any worse. Life is as shitty as it can possibly get. It feels like you should stay down, to just wallow in that misery, but you find a reason to get up.

You always find a reason to get back up, no matter how hard it is.

Whether it's your parents you get up for, maybe it's a pet, a friend or maybe it's just for the sake of finding out what happens tomorrow. But, you get back up. You always get back up.

Lately though, it's been harder than usual.

"Hey, sweetie." Joyce greeted when you walked through the front door of the General Store.

She was leaning against the counter with a bright smile despite seeming very bored due to most her regular customers now shopping at the new Starcourt Mall across town.

You gave her a friendly wave before ducking down into the medical supply aisle and grabbed a couple bandages. You paused for a second, mustering up a smile before walking back to Joyce.

"Morning, Joyce. Just these ones thank you." You said, placing the bandages on the counter.

"Of course, that'll be six fifty." She replied, placing the bandages in a small paper bag. "Did someone at home get hurt?"

"Oh, no, no. Just stocking up our first aid kit." You easily lied with a smile that you knew didn't reach your eyes.

Joyce's brows furrowed a little as she looked over at you, seeing straight through the lie.

"You doing okay?" She asked, her voice turning soft but serious and you nodded. "Y/N-"

"I'm fine. Promise."

It was clear that Joyce wasn't buying it. She had become like a second mother to you ever since you and Jonathan had started dating. She knew nearly everything about you, the two of you had become close, but she didn't know about the scars across your thighs or fresh cuts under your sleeve.

The bell on the door ringed as another customer walked into the store, stopping Joyce from asking any more questions.

"Oh, hey, honey." She called out, looking over your shoulder at the customer. "What are you doing here?"

"You forgot your lunch this morning. Thought I'd drop it off."

You froze recognising that voice instantly.

It was Jonathan Byers.

You and Jonathan had been dating for a few months now. Joyce wasn't too sure about it at first. She knew your family didn't have the best reputation in town, but she quickly warmed up to you when Jonathan first bought you home. She treated you like a daughter and Will practically referred to you as his sister. It was nice.

Jonathan was a sweet guy. A little shy and sometimes dorky, but in a cute way. He was unlike anyone you had ever met, but you had been avoiding him lately. You didn't want Jonathan to see you like... like this.

Sure, you could fake it. Put on a bright smile, and laugh, and joke, and pretend everything was fine. You've been doing that for years, but you were just so exhausted. It was easier to avoid him rather than pretend that everything was okay.

Taking a deep breath, you masked your expression and turned around to find Jonathan walking through the doors, his face lighting up when he spotted you.

"Hey, baby."

You smiled, "hey, Jon."

He walked over to you, cupping the side of your face with his hand before kissing you gently. For the first time all week, you found yourself genuinely smiling as you kissed him back.

"I haven't seen you around lately." He said, pulling away, his hand falling to your shoulder. "You're not, like, avoiding me or anything, are you?"

"No, no, no. Of course not. Just got some shit going on. Been busy."

You could feel Joyce eyeing you cautiously from the counter, but you kept your attention focused on Jonathan.

"You sure?" He asked hesitantly. "I-I haven't done anything wrong, have I? If I have, just tell me and I-"

"Jonathan, you haven't done anything wrong." You hurriedly reassured, stopping his worried words. "I've just been busy."

He didn't seem to believe you and you knew he was going to try and push the subject. But, you were in no mood to talk about it.

So, you turned back to Joyce who quickly looked away, acting as if she hadn't been watching the whole thing. You rolled your eyes and placed a few bills on the counter and grabbed the paper bag.

"I just came to buy these. Have a good day, Joyce."

She nodded, "you too, Y/N."

You glanced back at Jonathan and gave him a gentle smile. "I should get going. I'll see you later."

Not waiting for a response, you turned and walked out the store, making a beeline for your car that was parked out the front.

"Y/N, wait." Jonathan called out and suddenly his hand was grabbing your wrist, stopping you.

You let out a pained hiss as his fingers grasped your sleeve. The fresh cuts beneath pulsing in pain and you were pretty sure one was starting to bleed again.

"Shit. Sorry, sorry, are you okay?" He asked, instantly letting go. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I'm sorry."

He hadn't grabbed you hard. If it weren't for the cuts, it wouldn't have hurt at all. Jonathan was never violent, especially not with you.

If anything he was overly gentle, always afraid that he might hurt you by accident, despite you constantly reassuring him that you weren't some fragile piece of glass.

Although, right now, that was exactly what you felt like.

A fragile piece of glass. Glass that was already cracked and damaged, and on the verge of shattering at the slightest touch.

"You okay?"

You realised that you had taken too long to answer and quickly nodded.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine."

You knew your voice didn't sound convincing, but you gave him a reassuring smile anyway. Jonathan stared at you for a moment, those beautiful brown eyes full of worry.

"Why are you wearing a hoodie? It's like 85 degrees out."

Shit.

"Uh, I've been inside most the day. Didn't realise it was so hot." You lied easily with a shrug of your shoulders.

Jonathan didn't say anything for a few seconds, his eyes glancing down to your sleeves before an uneasy expression washed over him.

"Show me your arms."

You blinked in surprise, "w-what?"

"Your arms. Show me your arms." He said again, taking a step forward.

"Uh, no." You said, simultaneously taking a step back. "Why?"

Jonathan sighed, "please, just show me your arm."

You held his gaze as he raised his eyebrows at you impatiently before you lift the sleeve of your right arm that you knew was bare.

"There. Happy now?" You asked, shoving the sleeve back down. "I gotta go."

"Your other arm." He quickly said before you could walk off. "Show me your other arm."

"Jonathan, I love you, but no fucking way."

"Y/N-"

"No." You snapped, hating the way your voice broke as you blinked back the tears burning in your eyes.

Fuck, why were you on the verge of crying? Hadn't you cried enough over the last few days?

"Everything okay out here?" Joyce's voice suddenly called out.

She was standing in the doorway of the store, holding the door open with her foot and looking between the two of you.

"Yeah, I was just leaving."

You were relieved to hear your voice sound semi-normal as you turned on your heels, refusing to meet Jonathan's eyes that were glued to you before you climbed into the car and sped off down the road.

The drive to the quarry was a blur, both figuratively speaking and literally because the tears wouldn't stop flowing.

You parked the car and climbed out taking in a deep shaky breath of fresh air before leaning against the hood, overlooking the quarry in front of you.

It was boiling outside now that you were sitting under the sun, so you yanked the hoodie up over your head and laid it over your lap with a heavy sigh.

The cuts along your inner arm were now in full view as you looked down in disgust. The skin was painted with a mixture of fresh and old cuts, some healed and scarred, others bright red and still bleeding sluggishly.

You covered your wrist with your hand and squeezed, welcoming the pain as the fresh cuts started to sting, but it wasn't enough.

The pocket knife in your jeans felt like it was burning against the fabric before you reached into your pocket and pulled it out.

Your hands trembled as you flicked the blade out. Dry blood still staining the stainless steel as you pressed the tip of the blade against an unmarked section of skin on your wrist.

Tears started to burn in the back of your eyes as you sliced through the skin like it was butter. Bright crimson blood instantly rose and trickled down onto the hoodie in your lap.

You watched the droplets fall. The cut stinging as the outdoor air blew against it and you closed your eyes, trying to calm yourself.

The pain grounded you.

It was fucked up, you knew this was fucked up, but you couldn't stop. It was the only way you knew how to cope with everything.

You needed it. You needed the physical pain to drown out everything else, because for those few seconds with that blade against your skin, your mind was at ease. You weren't thinking about anything else, you weren't feeling anything else and you liked it.

That's how you knew you were really fucked up, because you liked it. You actually liked the pain.

The sound of a car door startled you out of your thoughts. You snapped your head towards the noise so fast, you nearly gave yourself whiplash when you saw Jonathan climbing out his Ford.

Fuck. Fuck. Fucking, fuck.

You tucked the knife back into your pocket and pressed your inner arm against the hoodie in your lap trying to hide the blood and cuts.

Jonathan walked over to you and you turned away, staring out at the quarry wishing he would just leave.

"Y/N-"

"Please, just go." You said, barely even recognising your own voice.

"And leave you here to cut yourself?" He questioned bluntly.

Yeah, you thought.

But, you didn't say that out loud though. And Jonathan didn't leave.

Suddenly his hand was on your shoulder causing you to flinch, not realising how close he was.

"How'd you know I was here?" You asked, breaking the silence.

"Mum said you liked to come here when you want to be alone."

Well, he didn't listen to the 'alone' part.

You tilted your head up at him, but he didn't look at you, his wide eyes glued to your arm that you were trying to hide, but clearly not very well.

You glanced back down and there was no mistaking the crimson stains soaking into the fabric.

"How long?" He asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "How long have you been cutting yourself? Days? Weeks?"

"More."

You didn't look at him as you spoke, not wanting to see the disappointment and pity on his face.

"Jesus Christ." He whispered to himself.

Jonathan let go, you could no longer feel his touch on your shoulder and you fought the urge to reach out and stop him from leaving.

Instead, you lifted your arms and buried your face into your hands trying to stop yourself crying.

You listened closely for footsteps on the gravel, but never heard any. Why wasn't he leaving?

A few seconds of silence ticked by before Jonathan let out a loud huff and leant down against the hood of the car beside you.

"Sweetheart, look at me."

You expected to hear him sound mad, to sound angry or pissed off, but he didn't. He sounded almost sad.

"Please. Y/N, please look at me." He practically begged.

Reluctantly, you lowered your hands from your face and glanced over at him through teary eyes and had to do a double take when you saw his own eyes glistening with unshed tears.

Seeing Jonathan on the verge of crying was all took before the flood gates opened. A violent sob escaped your lips when you cried, Jonathan's expression breaking.

"I-I'm sorry. Please... please don't hate me."

Jonathan's arm was instantly wrapping around your back, resting across your waist and pulling you into his side which just made you cry event more as you leant into him.

"No, no, baby. I don't hate you. I could never hate you." He insisted, holding you tightly.

"I'm sorry. I-I... I'm so sorry." You whimpered, burying your face against his chest.

"It's okay. Shh, it's okay. It's okay."

He kissed the top of your head gently and just held you while you cried.

Eventually, Jonathan lowered his arm and you sniffed, sitting up and rubbing your face with trembling hands, trying to calm yourself down.

He quickly pushed himself off the hood of the car and walked back around to the side door and grabbed something from inside causing you to frown in confusion before you realised what he was doing to do.

Jonathan walked back over to you with the brown paper bag from the store, but paused for a second when he got a look at your inner arm properly for the first time. A soft gasp escaped his lips and you fought the urge to pull your arm away from him.

It was too late. He had already seen it, the damage had been done.

"Shit." He swore softly under his breath.

He pulled out the bandages and pressed it against the worst of the cuts. The one you had just done still bleeding slowly, instantly staining the white bandage a deep red.

Neither of you said anything as you sat there, Jonathans hand pressing down on your arm with the bandage while you looked out at the quarry, the sun starting to set alone the horizon.

Jonathan was staring down at your arm with a frown plastered on his face which was better. A frown was better than tears. You could deal with Jonathan being mad at you. Anger you could handle.

"Did you treat them?"

His question caught you off guard as you blinked and glanced over at him, his eyes glued to your arm.

"What?"

"Did you treat them? I don't want them to get infected."

Oh. Oh.

He was worried about it getting infected. That hadn't even occurred to you, it should have, but it didn't.

Your silence was enough of an answer and Jonathan sighed before wrapping the bandage around your arm and tying it off so it was secure.

"I got a first aid kit at home. Let's go get it cleaned up." He said, pushing himself off your car and holding his hand out towards you. "C'mon."

You stared at his hand for a moment before shaking your head.

"It doesn't matter." You whispered, looking down at the ground. "I don't care if it gets infected."

"Well, I care."

"You shouldn't." You muttered quietly, glaring at a stone on the ground like it had personally offended you, instead of meeting Jonathan's eyes. "I mean, look at me. I'm fucked up-"

"You're not fucked up."

You chuckled almost hysterically and shook your head.

"I am. I know am. I'm fucked up. I'm broken, Jonathan and I-I can't be fixed. I know that, I mean who does this? And you know what the real screwed up thing actually is? I-I like it. There I said it, I like it. I like the pain and I know I need to stop, but it's the only thing that helps. The pain... the pain helps and I don't... I don't-"

"Hey, hey, breath. Y/N, just breath." Jonathan quickly said and you realised that you were in fact, not breathing.

You couldn't breath.

Shit, you couldn't fucking breath.

In the back of your mind, you were aware that this was some kind of panic attack. But, that piece of information did absolutely nothing to help as you tried and failed to get air into your lungs.

"It's okay, just breath. Copy my breathing." He said, grabbing your good hand and resting it on his chest as he took in deep and deliberate breaths. "Just copy me, okay? Deep breath in... and deep breath out."

You stared at the top button of his shirt, focusing on the small button like a lifeline while you mimicked his breathing. Jonathan continued to coach you verbally, your eyes glued to his button trying to focus and after a few minutes your breathing slowly started to even out. He kept your hand to his chest, showing no intention of lowering it before you looked away from the top button, your eyes locking with his beautiful brown ones.

"I'm... I'm sorry." You sighed. "You didn't- you didn't sign up for this. Just, go. I'm sorry."

You lowered your hand from his chest and fiddled with the bandage around your other wrist, too afraid to look at him as silent tears trickled down your cheeks.

"This doesn't change how much I love you. Y/N, hey, hey. Baby, look at me."

When you didn't move, he lifted his hand pinching your chin with his thumb and index finger and raised your head gently until you were forced to look at him.

"I'm serious. This doesn't change anything. I'm sorry I didn't realise how much you were hurting... when-when you started avoiding me, I thought I did something wrong, so I gave you some space. I didn't realise... shit, I'm sorry I wasn't here for you."

You sniffed, "I didn't want you to know."

"Why?"

You shrugged your shoulders as Jonathan sighed, cupping the side of your face and brushing the tears away with his thumb gently.

"I love you, Y/N. And, next time you feel like this, don't push me away. I want to help, let me help you."

You simply nodded, not trusting your voice at the moment as a fresh wave of tears surfaced at Jonathan's kindness causing his expression to soften before he pulled you into a hug.

"I just want you to be okay." He whispered, placing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "I love you so much, baby."

Link to Masterlist in bio

A/N-

Thank you guys for reading.

This character was specially requested and I will be doing a Daryl Dixon (The Walking Dead) version of this next.

Please comment any other characters you would like to have and I will do my best.

Until next time, stay safe everyone and have a great day xx

#jonathan byers #jonathan byers fanfiction #jonathan byers x reader #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #charlie heaton

257 notes · View notes

eddiernunson · 11 months

Text

Trapped | Eddie Munson | Epilogue

Prev Part | Master List | Prequel

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader (reader grieves Eddie)

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: a lot of talk about grief.

Author's Note: I didn't think I'd get emotional while preparing this post, but boy did I. I had a lot of joy writing these characters. But, guess what? I'm not through with them! I have a prequel planned that takes place when she works at Scoops Ahoy and I have a long form sequel planned (that is very different from this but an intriguing concept nonetheless.)

I gave the story an ending that could either A) Lead you right into the sequel or B) let her story finish on a higher note.

If you enjoyed this story enough to keep reading thank you, I appreciate you.

As you close the door to your apartment behind you, tossing the keys onto the counter, the sound of the TV on in the living-room greets you. You weren’t expecting it, your roommate out of town for the week visiting family in Florida. When the bathroom door from down the hall opens and Steve Harrington walks into your line of sight everything clicks.

Steve greets you with an open smile on his face, opening his arms as you walk into them comfortably. “Don’t you have a home you don’t have to pay rent for?” You mumble, half joking.

Truth is, you weren’t looking forward to spending the night alone.

“Don’t you?” Steve shoots back as he always does.

You sigh, the polyester of the grocery store uniform shirt feeling gross against your skin. You make your way to your room, a downsized version of the one you had sitting at your parents’ house. You quickly get dressed into some pajamas as Steve waits for you on your couch. Having given him a key, you supposed you should be used to him coming and going as he pleased.

It still startled you every time, though.

You land onto the couch right next to him, watching an episode of The Golden Girls. “How was work?” He asked, and you notice one of your bags of chips right in front of him, nearly empty.

“Shitty.” You comment, snatching the bag from him. “You know, for someone with a full pantry at home you sure steal my chips a lot.” You glance into the reflective bag, only a few handfuls and some crumbs left.

“Good thing I brought more.” Steve says, gesturing to some of the grocery bags on the floor.

The same one you worked at. “When did you go to Kroger?”

“This morning before you worked.” Steve says dismissively. “Vickie asked me to pick up something for a surprise for Robin.”

Your stomach grumbles, and you get up to make some instant noodles, too tired to make anything else.

“Why was your day shitty?” He asks you tentatively. For the record, a shitty day sometimes meant your grief overwhelmed you out of nowhere while restocking shelves. Sometimes, it meant you had a panic attack in the bathroom. Sometimes a shitty day just meant shitty people. Luckily, it was the latter.

You gulp, filling the cup of noodles with water. “Uh, there some girls talking in the break room today and one of them said the uh…” you pause, you can say it, “Munson Murders.” You place it into the microwave, the beeps loud in the silence that follows.

“Are you okay?” Steve asks you, absentmindedly eating the rest of the chips.

“I’m used to them, by now.” Unfortunately, with this job came new coworkers. Some of whom believed the media when the ‘truth’ of the earthquake came out. You’ve gotten used to attempting to ignore them, but they had their moments when they got to you.

As you take the noodles out of the microwave, Steve says something, and the conversation is like clockwork. “You know a way to avoid that—” he starts.

“Don’t say it.”

“The way to avoid his name or reputation altogether—”

“Steve.” You plead with him, your mind tired.

“Is to move, yeah?”

He tells you to leave town at least once a week at this point.

“As soon as you’re able to tell me that you guys have successfully gotten rid of Vecna.” You answer him, a version of what you say to him every time.

“If—” Steve sighs, running his hand through his hair. “if you left town you wouldn’t have to be the girl with the dead boyfriend anymore. You could talk about him without any fear of someone asking his name.”

“And what, be okay with Eleven risking her life on a semi-regular basis? Nancy? Robin? You? Dustin? Mike? Lucas? Erica? Will? Jonathan? Hopper and Joyce, for Christ’s sake? You guys are out there, fighting the good fight and trying to prevent Vecna’s vision to Nancy from coming true, while I’m working at a cash register and restocking aisles every day. I’m on desk duty. Worse. You won’t even tell me what’s going on anymore.”

“Last time you convinced us you were ready you had a panic attack.” Steve emphasizes, his voice stern. “You’re clearly still affected by it.”

You look down to your right hand, the ring Dustin had managed to grab for you providing a great deal of comfort.

He relaxes into the couch, his heavy heartbeat calming down. “If the panic in your eyes when I say his name out loud has any indication, you need the distance if you want to be helpful.”

You roll your eyes to this, ignoring the gnawing feeling you’ve had for about a month that distance from Hawkins might’ve been exactly what you needed.

Problem was, it was already September of 1987 and colleges weren’t accepting any applications until the spring term. Another problem was that it’s October next month, and last October was so hard for you that you could barely recall it.

Memories of Robin, Nancy, and Steve finding you with a tear-streaked face surrounded by tissues and a tape inspired by his taste in music was playing on your stereo. You were fast asleep on your couch, polaroids you’ve been too scared to look at finally seeing daylight again.

You had cried yourself into a coma that night.

This upcoming October had you apprehensive about your tendencies to self-destruct that you’ve developed over the last seventeen months.

“Get out of Hawkins for a bit. When you can say his name, or better yet, tell a story about him without crying, you’re good to come back and help us out.” Steve tells you, rubbing your shoulder absentmindedly. “We want your help and trust me when I say I wish I could tell you about what we’ve learned but.” Steve stops suddenly, and it doesn’t need to be said.

You thank him for attempting to speak it into existence for another try but let him know you weren’t going anywhere. At least, that was the plan as you showered and made your way over to your bed that night.

The next day you had plans to go to your mom’s house to see her, a rare visit back home. You sat at the kitchen island, watching her cook as she continues to ask about your life. She really attempts to hide the fact that your life is killing her from the inside at the moment.

You weren’t going to school. You weren’t planning to, as far as she knew. No plans for the future, and she was sure if she wasn’t careful you would end up working at Kroger for over 30 years and become a shell of the girl you once were.

“Are you sure you want to stay in Hawkins?” she asks, her voice soft as she leans forward to you on her elbows against the island counter.

Usually, a resounding yes would’ve left your mouth. This time, however, you hesitate in your answer.

Something about what Steve had said finally started to get through. Truth is, you were tired of feeling like this. All of your emotions, everyone’s voices, the weight still sitting on you, pulling you down and denying you energy to even muster the want to care felt like you were stuck under water. You weren’t sure if it was your body telling you the grief had become too much to carry or if Steve had finally gotten through to you but something about yourself felt different…like you…wanted to get better.

“Where would I go?”

You knew you shouldn’t have let her talk you into this. You sit at a restaurant from down the block to your dorm, twiddling your thumbs as you wait for the person your college dorm-mate set you up with to walk in. The pictures she’s shown you were…decent. He wasn’t a bad looking dude, but you found yourself comparing him to Eddie, anyway.

Getting into college and into normalcy felt like coming up for air after being stuck underwater for so long. It felt so nice you wondered why you didn’t want to in the first place.

Grief had a hold on you that you finally managed to wring yourself out of, and now it’s just a creature on your shoulder. Sometimes the creature is loud and obnoxious, but most of the time he just sits on your shoulder swinging his legs.

Finally, someone pulls out the chair, bringing you to the present. “Hi! You must be y/n.” He says sitting without so much as a handshake.

“Hi. Nice to meet you. Mark, right?” He nods his head politely, the brown curls reflecting a shine in the overhead light. “So how do you know Nadine?” you start the awkward small talk.

Mark gets into it, describing how he met Nadine on his first tour of campus, and they just seemed to be kindred spirits. He goes on to describe how Nadine showed a picture of you to him and he begged her to set up a date for the two of you.

As this was your first date in over two years, it took a lot of convincing to get you to even consider a date.

“So, what brings you all the way to Montana State?” he asks you, starting up the conversation with some small talk.

“I needed some space.” You answer, and you knew the only reason you haven’t gone to Washington was the rainy weather it was notoriously known for.

“Shitty break up?” He asks you, and you’re nearly surprised Nadine didn’t disclose it to him already.

You take a minute to consider how to respond. “Is it considered a shitty break up when one ends up six feet under?” You ask, your hand fiddling with the black ring that found home on your right hand.

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” He apologizes, and it’s nice that you can tell he genuinely feels bad.

You shrug. “Honest mistake.”

The small talk continues, Mark talking about growing up in New York and why he had chosen to be a teacher instead of a doctor like his dad had planned for him. You listen to him, slowly finding comfort in his expressive story telling.

Something catches your eye and you flicker to it and you suddenly wished you hadn’t, the little demon on your shoulder now shouting in your ear obnoxiously. You attempt to blink back the tears threatened to fall and Mark falters out his story, worry invading his features. “It-it’s ok” You breathe, wiping away the one tear that succeeded.

You exhale slowly, and close your eyes, allowing yourself to sink into the memory that was triggered by the happy couple in the faraway booth sitting a little too close to one another.

An image of Eddie flashed across your face, the vague reminder of the nervousness you felt just being so close to him, and the knowledge that he wanted you to be there with him and his dimpled smile.

It’s a quick memory, but you find the more you allow yourself to think them through than push them down, the less likely you end up in a full-on meltdown.

You open your eyes again, now relaxed, and the sight of the happy couple didn’t make you want to throttle them. Progress.

Mark is staring at you, and you can’t decipher the expression on his face. You smile closed mouthed. “Sorry. If I don’t process the emotion in the moment, it just gets worse.”

“Does it have to do with—”

“Yeah.” You interrupt him, wanting to move passed it.

“You want to tell me about it?” Mark asks, and you give him a bewildered look. The fuck?

He laughs, taking a sip of his water. “You’ve been letting me talk about myself this whole time, and I’ve come here to get to know you.” He starts fiddling with his napkin. “It seems this…loss you feel is something you’re still dealing with and therefore a part of you. I want to get to know you, so tell me about it.”

You squint, afraid to give in to his bizarre request. “Isn’t talking about an ex on the first date a bit of a red flag?” You ask, and it occurs to you this is the first time you’ve ever referred to Eddie as an ex.

“On the normal occasion, yes. But this doesn’t seem normal. Tell me about it.”

You sigh, and for the first time in over 2 years, you tell a story about Eddie Munson that doesn’t end in tears.

In fact, you were laughing at his antics with Mark, remembering his dimples as he laughed and the animated movements of leading his club in another night during Hellfire.

The date with Mark does end on a good note, him still asking questions about Eddie conversationally. As he walked you back, Mark insisted he didn’t mind talking about him. “I think you needed to talk about him more than you needed a date, if I’m gonna be honest.”

You smile gratefully to him, a relief hanging on your chest. It might’ve felt crazy, but the demon on your shoulder felt smaller. “I don’t think I’m ready for dating yet.” You admit, and Mark accepts it so gracefully, you felt bad for thinking he looked like he would’ve bullied Eddie earlier in the evening.

As you close the door to your dorm room Nadine pounces on you, asking how your date went. “I think it went pretty good. It established I’m not ready to date again, yet, but Mark was so sweet it was worth it.”

Her face breaks out in a smile, ignoring what you said about not ready to date yet. “That’s so amazing! Tell me how it went!” You open your mouth to tell her when the phone rings, a personal landline for your room. Nadine answers it, closest to the phone. “Oh, yeah she’s right here.”

Nadine’s eyebrows waggle as she passes you the phone, and you know who it is before she even tells you. “Hi, Harrington.” You answer, all love in your voice.

“Hi, there, y/n.” He responds, sound of laughter in your voice. “Hows it?”

“Actually,” you put the receiver away from your phone, asking Nadine to go for a quick walk so you can tell Steve something. She nods her head quickly, leaving the room with the door closing quietly. “Sorry, I just wanted to say I had a really good night. I just got back from…from a date.” You admit out loud.

You could hear his jaw hitting the floor. “Oh shit. How-how’d it go?” Steve was failing to hide how excited the prospect of you going on a date apparently made him feel.

“It was ok…at first. We talked about him for a good first part because the moment someone decides to ask about me I have not much to say except I’m dealing with a loss that has affected every day of my life until about three months ago.” You pause, pursing your lips. “Then I saw this couple, and they looked just like me and him back at the fucking Chef’s Table on our first date and I just…” you inhale, the same feelings bubbling up to surface. “I let myself feel it, think about it, then I was ok.”

“How did he react to that?”

“Better than you would think.”

“Oh? Explain?”

“He insisted if I didn’t talk about myself then what I had gone through must’ve been enough to be who I was for a bit. Which, granted, feels reductive to amount me to my grief but he was right.”

“Damn.”

“I’m not finished. I talked about Eddie, Steve. I told him probably about six stories I haven’t thought about in years and I didn’t shed a single tear.” You find yourself tearing up right now at the mere prospect of being able to remember Eddie happily. “Mark is a good guy because he said at the end of the date, I was clearly not ready to date again but I did need to talk about him. He was right. Steve, I want to talk about Eddie again.”

“Holy shit. If I knew sending you out on a date would’ve pulled that trigger, I would’ve taken you out years ago,” he jokes.

There’s a knock on your door, Nadine wanting to know if she could come back in. You call her in and turns out she had a package. “Hey, this just came in the mail for you.”

“I actually called to talk to you about that. I found something I’ve been looking for and I sent it to you the moment I got my hands on it. Take good care of it, will ya?”

“But Steve, you haven’t even told me what it is.” You protest, holding the package delicately, noting it was compact but had some weight to it.

“You’ll know.”

He hangs up, letting the mystery of the package settle in. “What did he say?” Nadine asked, already had checked the return address from Steve.

“Just that he’s been looking for it and I’ll know when I see it.”

“Then open it!”

You shrug, following her orders, using the tab at the top of the plastic to rip it open. As soon as you pull the light blue denim out, you’re hit with a wave of emotions.

Holy shit. His vest he lent to Steve. “For your modesty.”

You hold it out in front of you, and the brown tint to it tells you Steve didn’t even wash it. You breathe it in, and a smell you have long forgotten hits your nose, and you wondered how it stayed all this time. “Smells just like him.” You mutter, giving Nadine a teary smile. “I thought I’d never be able to smell him again.”

That night, you end up exchanging funny stories from high school. The relief cascaded you as you both laid on your beds staring at the ceiling because you were finally able to tell stories about it without feeling like the earth was being ripped open. Thank God.

Spring Break was right around the corner, and as you told everyone you were coming home, most were hesitant on your decision, wondering if his death anniversary was a good time.

For once, you knew it was the right call. In fact, if the situation still seemed dire enough, you had no plans on returning to school and planned on giving Vecna the hell he deserved for wringing you through the grief that he did.

The road trip is a long one, but you had wanted to take it regardless.

Maybe you could even stop by Eddie’s grave. Visit Wayne. Whatever the occasion, you were somehow finally ready for it.

Home.

Please reblog/leave comments on what you thought I love reading them and they help support me.

Taglist: @emturtles @yourthebrokengirl @steeldaisies @skrzydlak @thirddeadlysin @sammararaven @bebe07011 @prettylovley

#eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson

26 notes · View notes