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artiststarme · 1 year

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Just Another Miscommunication

Based on a prompt given by @i-less-than-three-you! I hope it met your expectations! I hope you guys like it and please leave your thoughts in the comments!

~*~*~*~

Steve had never been so hurt and offended in his life. After several months of dating Eddie in secret from the rest of the Party, they’d decided to tell them. Things were starting to get serious and they knew it would only be a matter of time before someone found out and spilled the beans to the rest of the group.

Eddie had been a little nervous to come out, this was his first serious relationship in the middle of Nowhere, Indiana, he had a right to be worried. But Steve knew that everyone would take it well, they’d dealt with literal monsters so being gay in comparison had to be a smaller deal than that.

What Steve hadn’t anticipated was how many shovel talks he would receive. He expected the one from Wayne (although that one still hadn’t come), maybe even one from Dustin. However, the rest of them had been a bitter surprise.

His first shovel talk came from Robin. They’d been in the middle of a slow shift at Family Video when she decided to break the comfortable silence.

“Hey Dingus, you know that you have to be careful with Eddie, right?”

“Robin, he’s a great guy. He’s not going to hurt me or whatever else you’re afraid of-”

“No, no, no. I’m saying you have to be gentle with him. This is his first relationship so you have to be gentle with him. You have experience from dating half of the girls in Hawkins, he doesn’t have that. Just, be careful not to break his heart, okay?” She looked at him imploringly until he nodded.

“I’m not going to hurt him, Robin. We’ve been dating for months and we’ve never had a problem before. I’m not going to hurt him.”

“Okay, I just… wanted to make sure. Now, go rewind the tapes. We just got some more returns.” He groaned for good measure but moved along regardless.

The next one later that day was Hopper. He was leaning against the Beemer in the staff parking lot behind Family Video waiting for Steve to get off work.

Steve smiled at him and pranced over to give him a quick hug that wouldn’t impact either of their street creds. “Hey Hop, what’re you doing over here? Did I forget plans we had?”

“Nah kid, I'm just checking in. The kids said that you were seeing Munson now?” He cleared his throat and continued in a whisper. “You know, romantically?”

“Yeah, we’ve been dating for a few months. Why do you have a problem with that?” Steve glared at him while he waited for his answer.

“Of course not! I just wanted to check in with you. And uh, I wanted to remind you that the Munson kid has been through a lot. Just, just don’t hurt him, okay?”

Steve sighed and shook his head. “You’re the second person to tell me that today. I’m not going to hurt him, alright? I love him.”

“Yeah but things change, kid. You feel like that now but you might end up hurting him later. Just be careful, alright?”

“Yeah, fine.”

“Good. Do you want to come over to the house for dinner tonight? I know El and Will would love to see you.” Hopper smiled and nudged his arm.

With his mood thoroughly dimmed, Steve shook his head. “Nah, I have to run some errands and then I’m just going to run home. I’ll see you around though.”

He said his goodbyes to Hopper and ran over to Melvald’s to pick up a prescription and a couple of snacks for his place. While he was there, he saw Joyce and decided to make some friendly conversation.

“Hey Mrs. Byers, how’s Will doing? Is he glad to be back in Hawkins? I know the kids like having him here to DM their nerd game.”

Joyce gave him a tight smile as she rang up his items. “Hi Steve. Yeah he likes it, I think he missed the boys, you know? Him and El weren’t big fans of California.”

“Yeah, I get that. Max always says it’s a lot hotter so I can’t even imagine. How’re you doing?”

“I’m doing well, thanks,” she said while scanning his various chips and snacks. “What’re all of these for?”

“Eddie. He can never choose just one flavor to munch on so I just keep a bunch on hand for him to choose from,” Steve answered, smiling at the thought of his boyfriend.

“You know, I've been meaning to talk to you about that,” she said, glancing around the empty store.

“Have you?” Steve asked apprehensively. He and Joyce didn’t get along super well so he was a little nervous for her to judge his relationship.

“Yeah. I want you to know that I support you guys and you both always have a safe space with me. But I just wanted to make sure that you took it easy with Eddie. That boy’s been through a lot and I know you didn’t always feel… accepting of queer relationships. Eddie is sensitive and you could really hurt him. So just, be gentle with him or I’ll have to send Hopper over to get your head on straight. Are we clear?”

Honestly, Steve was kind of lost but he nodded in spite of that. “Yep, crystal. I’m not going to hurt him, Mrs. Byers. Have a good day!”

Jesus Christ, did everyone think he was going to hurt Eddie? He knew that he made some questionable choices in the past as King Steve but he’d been trying to be better. Why couldn’t anyone see that?

When he got home, he saw various bikes laying all over his front lawn. Now, the kids could just want a pool day to get out of this disgustingly warm summer weather. However, if they were looking to give him yet another shovel talk, Steve might just lose it.

As expected, all of the kids were situated on his couch and turned to look at him when he walked in. They looked like they were staging an intervention for him.

“Okay look, I’m really not in the mood for this. If you want to use the pool, fine. But if this is yet another shovel talk to warn me not to hurt Eddie, you can leave.” Steve crossed his arms as he looked at them and only Max was brave enough to go against him.

“If you hurt Eddie, we’re going to have El open another gate to the Upside Down and feed you to a demogorgon,” she said in a deadpan voice with a blank face.

El snapped her head to look at her then back to Steve. “Steve, I will not. Max, Steve is like my brother. I will not feed him to a demogorgon.”

“What they mean to say is that we don’t want to see Eddie get hurt. If you hurt him, we’ll have to take matters into our own hands,” Dustin continued diplomatically. Both Lucas and Mike nodded but Will just shook his head in panicked confusion.

“Dustin, I thought we were coming here to congratulate him and tell him we supported him! Why are we threatening him? Steve won’t hurt him!”

The other kids argued that he definitely could and actions needed to be taken to prevent that. Will and El just kept trying to jump in and defend Steve.

And Steve just stared at them. “Okay, thanks so much for the threats. Everyone besides Will and El can leave. You can come back when you stop planning different ways to murder me when I hypothetically hurt Eddie.”

Steve gave all of the kids, besides Will and El, one last glare before he walked into the kitchen to make himself a coffee. Maybe that would ward off his approaching headache. He could hear muffled arguing from the living room where Will and El, his new favorite kids, were no doubt defending him. But alas a few moments later, he heard the noise stop and saw El pop her head into the kitchen.

“I am sorry Steve, Will and I thought that we were coming to congratulate you on dating Eddie. We did not know that they would threaten you. Friends do not threaten to kill other friends.”

“It’s alright El, it’s called a shovel talk. Usually a family member gives one to the boyfriend so they know not to hurt them. I got a lot of them today so I’m annoyed,” he explained to her gently.

“But, you will not hurt Eddie. You love him so why do people keep telling you not to hurt him?” She asked him in confusion.

“They care more about Eddie and they think I’ll hurt him,” his words visibly angered him so he backtracked a little bit. “It’s fine El, really. I’ll get over it.”

She moved towards him and pulled him into a hug. “I love you Steve and I do not think you will hurt him. Even if you do by accident, I will not feed you to a demogorgon.”

He barked out a quick laugh in surprise, “thanks El, are you and Will going swimming?”

“No, we are going home to paint miniatures for Will’s new DnD game. Would you like to come with us?” She pulled back from the hug enough to look up at him.

“Nah, I’m just going to relax here but thanks for the offer. Have fun, okay?”

“Okay Steve, thank you!”

Then, Steve was alone. He was emotionally exhausted and hurt. How could everyone, besides Will and El, believe he’d hurt Eddie? He’d changed so much over the years and now he felt like he was right back where he started. How could they have such little faith in him?

~*~*~*~

Eddie was expecting to spend a nice night with his boyfriend after a few long days without seeing him. Between work, spending time with the kids, and practicing with the band, it felt like forever since he’d gotten to spend any quality time with Steve. But when he walked through the ajar door of the Harrington home, he didn’t find a boyfriend that was happy to see him. Instead, he found Steve sitting on the kitchen counter with a troubled look on his face.

“Stevie, you alright? I hope it’s okay that I came in, the door was open,” he stepped closer to Steve and pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead. “What’s going on?”

“Has anyone given you the shovel talk about dating me?” Steve asked him, his eyes staring into his eyes desperately.

“Um no, why? Should they have?” Eddie asked, confused.

“I don’t know, I guess not. Nearly everyone in the Party has given me one. Robin, Hopper, Joyce, the kids. Why haven’t any of them told you not to hurt me?”

“You want me to get threatened?” Eddie didn’t understand why Steve was so upset. Did he think that he was going to hurt him?

“No! I just- why does everyone automatically assume you’ll be the one to get hurt? Why won’t they tell you not to hurt me? That’s just as much of a possibility as me hurting you!”

“You think I’m going to hurt you? And you’re mad that no one else thinks so?” So Steve expected him to fuck this up?

“Yes!” Steve nodded at him.

“I would never hurt you Stevie and I’m upset that you think I would. Why would I do anything to ruin this? You’re so perfect Steve that I would never do anything to mess this up.”

“Ed-”

“No! What’s the point of dating at all if you’re just waiting around for me to break your heart? That’s all I do though, right? Eddie the Freak, destroyer of all things good. Is that it?” All of the happy feelings that Eddie felt when he first walked through the door were long gone now. What, Steve was just waiting for Eddie to ruin everything like he always did? What the hell.

“Eddie, that’s not what I meant!”

“Whatever Steve, I’m sorry that you’ve seen this coming the entire time and I’m sorry you were right. I should’ve known that I would fuck this up too.” With that, Eddie marched out of Steve’s house and directly to his van. Admittedly, he shouldn’t have left. He should’ve stayed and worked this out with Steve.

However, he didn’t want Steve to see the angry tears that streamed down his face on his drive home. He knew deep down that this was all a misunderstanding but Eddie couldn’t get over the fact that Steve was just another person that saw the worst in him.

~*~*~*~

Wayne walked into the trailer to find it completely dark and silent, both unusual for Eddie. His nephew constantly left all of the lights on regardless of whether he was in the room or not, a quirk that took a toll on both Wayne’s annoyance and the electricity bill. And silence was not a commodity often associated with Eddie. The boy was loud in all senses of the word so for the trailer to be quiet, devoid of guitar riffs or excited rambling, was worrying. With a peek out the door, Wayne saw that Eddie’s van was out there which meant that he was home.

When he looked into Eddie’s room, he saw a pathetic lump hidden under the covers with only an unruly mop of curls poking out. The covers twitched slightly as the lump sniffled. “Eds? Y’alright?”

“No,” he muttered, hiding his face deeper into his pillow.

Wayne sighed and kissed all thoughts of coffee and a nap goodbye. Nonetheless, he sat at the edge of the bed and pulled at Eddie’s shoulder until he turned over. His eyes were red and irritated and his skin was flushed. “What the hell happened to you? I thought you were spending the evening with Steve? He do something?”

Eddie’s face screwed up in sadness as more tears welled up in his eyes. “Why do you automatically assume Steve did something? I’m the one who always fucks everything up, Uncle Wayne. Me! Why is everyone threatening Steve not to hurt me?”

Wayne looked at him in bemusement for a moment. “So you did something?”

Eddie made a muffled noise of outrage and pulled the covers back over his face.

“Boy, I can’t help ya if ya don’t use yer words. Tell me what happened and we’ll fix it,” Wayne tried to reassure him.

“Everybody has been giving Steve the shovel talk and telling him not to hurt me. But no one has given me the shovel talk to tell me not to hurt him. So Steve was upset and told me that I would be the one to hurt him and he was offended that no one else thought so. And then he said that I would be the one to hurt him!”

Wayne just looked at him for a long moment before lightly smacking the side of his head.

“Hey, what the hell!” Eddie yelled in surprised anger as he yanked the covers off of himself.

“Don’t be a dumbass then! Steve was trying to tell ya that he was hurt and ya turned it around on him! The kid’s not saying that yer gonna hurt him, he’s saying he wants people to stop assumin’ he’ll be the one to hurt you when he feels so much for ya.”

“So he’s not saying that I’m going to fuck everything up?” Eddie asked quietly.

“I think he’s sad that everyone else is taking your side and assumin’ that he’s going to be the one that ruins things. He just needed ya to listen.”

“What have I done?! How do I fix this? Uncle Wayne, help me!” Eddie jumped out of bed and started pacing in front of him.

Wayne sighed again, he didn’t ask to be roped into these situations. “Look Eds, go to him and say that you’re sorry and you took it the wrong way. Then tell him that I gave you a shovel talk cause if you hurt that kid again, I’m gonna do more than smack ya upside the head, ya hear me? Now get goin’. Ya best stay over there so I can get some rest, alright?”

Eddie laughed and jumped off the bed, “thanks Uncle Wayne! You’re the best! I’ll go fix it and then tell you about it over carry-out later! Love you!”

Wayne shook his head as he watched Eddie run out the door, “love you too, kid.”

Both boys came back to the trailer a few hours later with takeout in tow. Eddie’s smile was beaming once again and Steve looked relieved. He gave Wayne a quick hug and a whispered thank you over the burgers and Wayne knew that they’d fixed things. There would be many miscommunications between the boys in the years to come but as long as they had Wayne to play interference, they’d be alright.

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wannabespacesmuggler · 9 months

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J.H. | The Duality of Jim Hopper

Masterlist | Buy me a coffee

Summary: Ever since Joyce introduced you to the local chief of police, Jim Hopper, you’ve thought maybe this town is a little too small. You’re certain that there is no truth behind the rumors until you take one hell of a beating and Hopper wants answers.

Pairing: Jim Hopper x Reader

Warnings: mentions of an injury, teenagers being punks, swearing, Hopper being Hopper

Word Count: 4.5k

“How are you settling in?”

The voice tears your attention away from one of the books piled up on the table in front of you. You glance toward the sound and see Marissa, the librarian, standing beside you. A part of you wants to groan at her question because you are acutely aware that you don’t share the same history as most of your friends in Hawkins.

You didn’t approach another child on the playground during your first day of kindergarten and establish a once in a lifetime kind of friendship -- like Mike and Will. You didn’t share cigarettes under the bleachers of your local high school while attempting to not get busted by administration -- like Joyce and Hopper. You didn’t attend new mother classes and bond over the newfound joy of motherhood -- like Karen and Marsha.

No. You haven’t lived in this small town your entire life. You moved to Hawkins after everyone your age had settled into their lives -- with jobs, and spouses, and children. Meanwhile, you came to Hawkins from Indianapolis in an attempt to have a quieter life. No children, no spouse, and no job -- that is until you had an interview with Donald Melvald.

And Melvald’s is where you met Joyce Byers, who quickly became your lifeline in Hawkins. You remember your first day at work, when she took all day just to train you. Little did you know, Joyce was just as excited as you were to have some company throughout the day. She easily took you under her wing and brought you up to date with the history of Hawkins. Eventually, she invited you into her life and home. Dinners at the Byers’ home became more frequent as you continued working together. The Byers slowly became your family in Hawkins.

“I’m doing well. Thank you for checking in.”

She gives you a polite smile. You were hoping she’d leave the conversation at that, but she asks you another question.

“Are you still working over at Melvald’s with Joyce?”

You give her a nod in response and turn your attention back to the stack of books that Will had recommended to you. It’s not that you don’t like Marissa. She’s fantastic at her job and you enjoyed the few conversations you have had with her, but you know she’s also a gossip -- or at least that’s what Joyce told you when you asked why the local librarian started asking you so many personal questions during your first visit.

“How’s she doing?”

“She’s good. So are the boys. I’m actually going over there for dinner tonight.”

You hope you’ve given her enough information to quench her thirst for details.

“Oh. With the Chief?”

Apparently not.

Your brow furrows at her question and you shake your head. Ever since Joyce introduced you to the local chief of police, Jim Hopper, you’ve thought maybe this town is a little too small.

The two of you became quick friends, but you weren’t aware of his reputation in town until after you had dinner with him. It wasn’t even supposed to be just the two of you at Benny’s; Joyce was actually the one who had planned the little outing, but Will ended up coming home from school early that day with a fever, so Joyce had to cancel last minute. Hopper ended up wandering into Melvald’s later that day after Joyce had called the two of you about her predicament.

“We can still go tonight. If you want?”

Hopper will never tell you that he wants to take you out to dinner. Instead, he leaves the decision to you; afraid of the rejection that could come if he were to just blatantly ask you out.

You shrug before giving him a verbal answer.

“I don’t have anything else going on tonight.”

Hopper smiles as he leans against the counter, watching as you continue restocking the shelves.

“Meet you at Benny’s? 7:00 o’clock?”

You stop restocking and glance up at him. If you didn’t know him, you’d think he was intimidating. He’s a large man and his presence practically demands your attention. Hell, his broad frame is taking up half the counter. But then his hands are anxiously fiddling with an unlit cigarette as he waits for your response. It almost makes you laugh -- the duality of Jim Hopper.

“Actually, can you pick me up? My car has been acting up.”

“I’ll be there at 7:00 and maybe I can take a look at your car?”

Jim watches you stand up. As you walk past him to get behind the counter, you gently place your hand on his bicep. It’s nothing you haven’t done before, but for some reason, every single fucking time you touch him, Hopper has to fight off the shiver that begs to journey down his spine. He doesn’t give it a second thought though. He can’t. He’s had his heart locked up tight for years. He isn’t sure if he could find the key even if he tried.

“You’re a lifesaver, Hop.”

You enjoyed dinner and Jim did end up fixing your car that night. You repaid him for the ride and a free tune-up with a case of beer, which the two of you powered through in the span of a few hours. At some point, you stole the keys to Hopper’s truck and convinced him the crash on your couch for the night. The next day, you two were the talk of the town after your neighbor told everyone she knew that the chief of police was leaving your house awfully early in the morning.

Since then, you’ve gotten quite a few questions about Hopper from the local citizens who didn’t know you too well -- assuming you were just another one of his many flings.

It takes everything in you to not roll your eyes at Marissa. Still, you offer her a polite response.

“Hopper’s working tonight.”

Marissa seems to be content in your answer and leaves you with your stack of books. You let out a sigh of relief and glance out the window. A small smile pulls at your lips as you spot Jonathan and Nancy talking to a group of boys in the parking lot, until you see one of the boys throw a punch a Jonathan.

You hastily push out your chair, turn on your heels, burst through the doors and sprint through the parking lot. You can hear Nancy begging for the boys to stop, but her protests fall on deaf ears as the boys continue to pummel Jonathan. Nancy turns toward you and relief washes over her features -- she doesn’t know you well, but Jonathan has always spoke highly of you and right now she’ll take any help offered.

“Get off of him!”

Your voice gets one of the boys’ attention for just a moment.

“This has nothing to do with you!”

You furrow your brow at the comment. Jonathan may not be your child; however, you care for him as if he was your own and you’re not going to let this teenager lay another hand on him. Quickly, you try to get inbetween the two boys. You think you have the upperhand until the boy on top of Jonathan throws his elbow back in an attempt to get you off of him. His elbow cracks you in the nose and immediately sends you crashing to the ground. The sound of your body hitting the gravel stops the boy’s assault on Jonathan. He turns to you and you can tell by the look in his eyes that he did not mean to hurt you; he had been blinded by anger and made a stupid decision.

However, those stupid decisions seem to continue as you watch red and blue lights reflect off of Jonathan’s car. You can vaguely hear the sound of a police siren and someone yelling your name, as you watch the boy who had been pummeling Jonathan into the pavement run in the other direction. You take a moment to take in details about the boy, knowing that you’ll end up at the station giving a description of the boy to Hopper.

As you try to get up, you’re met with the face of Officer Callahan.

“Woah, there. Seems like you took quite a beating.”

“No, no, no. Jonathan. You need to check on Jonathan.”

Officer Callahan puts a gentle, but firm hand on your shoulder to keep you in place as you frantically search for the boy.

“It’s okay. Powell’s with him right now. We’re going to get you both to the hospital. Chief is already on his way.”

You give Callahan a nod and lay back down on the rough gravel. As the adrenaline begins to leave your system, the pounding in your head starts to take precedence. In an attempt to ease the pain, you close your eyes. You only mean for it to be a minute, but as you hear Callahan’s voice begging for you to just hold on, you feel yourself slipping deeper and deeper into unconsciousness.

When you open your eyes again, the pounding in your head has dulled and your ears are met with the rhythmic sound of your heart beat on the monitor next to you. You’re about to call for a nurse to get some information when you hear a woman yell from down the hall.

“Sir, you can’t smoke in here!”

You hear a string of grumbled expletives before a familiar figure leans against the doorframe of your hospital room.

“Hey, Hop.”

He’s disheveled. His uniform shirt is fully unbuttoned and falling off one shoulder, leaving his henley to be on full display. It looks as though he threw on the shirt hastily as he pulled into the hospital parking lot. Somewhere in the chaos he’s lost his hat as well, allowing you a glimpse at his unusually tousled hair -- he’s been running his hands through it in frustration since he got the call from Callahan that you were on your way to the hospital.

His eyes rake over your body, checking for injuries, before they settle on your face. The hardened anger in his gaze quickly fades to a tender concern as he studies your broken nose and two black eyes.

Eventually, he moves from the doorframe and takes large strides toward you. He towers over your body as he stands beside your hospital bed. His jaw is clenched so hard that you begin to worry that the man might crack a tooth. The anger in the pit of his stomach begins boiling over once more as he gets a better look at your injuries -- they’re much worse upon closer inspection. Callahan was right -- you took one hell of a beating.

“Hop.”

Hopper lets out a solemn sigh as you slide your hand into his. Finally, he meets your gaze and his features soften. You swallow a string of emotions -- Hopper has never looked at you this tenderly before. It’s a lot to take in -- on one hand he’s got a warmth in his features that you’ve never witnessed before that only seemed to spark once he entered your hospital room and, on the otherhand, his body is so rigid that you fear he might snap if another goddamn thing happens today.

Keeping a tight grip on your hand, he takes a seat beside you on the small hospital bed. He reaches out and places his free hand on the side of your face. Your breath catches in your chest as his thumb gently traces over your wounds. His touch is careful, the softest whisper of contact. He’d stop if you asked him to, but you wouldn’t dare. You’d let him trace over the bridge of your nose over and over and over again, if it means that you’ll maintain Jim Hopper’s undivided attention. However, as he grazes over the area where the kid split your nose open, you flinch away from his touch. He pulls his hand back immediately and anger washes over his features once more. It was only for a second, but it was enough for you to recognize the festering rage stewing in the back of Hopper’s mind.

“Who did this to you?”

His voice is low and he ducks his head down to your level, maintaining eye contact with you as he speaks. You open your mouth but no words come out. You’re entirely enamored in the duality of Jim Hopper once again -- fierce and rageful, while simultaneously gentle and kind. A protector in every sense of the word. He moves cautiously, placing his hands on either side of your face. He’s cradling your face like a coveted prize jewel. He takes a moment and then asks you again.

“Sweetheart, who hurt you?”

You finally let out the breath that got caught in your throat. His voice is somehow sweet as honey while simultaneously laced with venom.

“It was just some punk kid that was giving Jonathan trouble.”

His brow furrows immediately at your response.

“What kid? I’ll make sure he never touches you again. And Jonathan.”

There’s a beat before he says the last two words. He rushes to add Jonathan into the equation in an attempt to make it seem like he’s sitting here with you because it’s his job, and not because his heart dropped into his stomach when he got the call from Callahan. He didn’t even both listening to the rest of Callahan’s message over the walkie. He knew someone hurt you and that you were being escorted by an ambulance -- that was more than enough to get him racing to his truck and speeding to the hospital. But now, in this moment, where it is just you and Hopper, he tries to cover up the fact that he’s here solely because he cares for you.

“He didn’t mean to hurt me.”

He looks at you with an incredulous expression. Where Jim is harsh, you are forgiving. He’s always appreciated the ways you’ve challenged him since you moved to Hawkins. But, right now, he wishes you were as angry as he was. But, instead, you’re sitting here with your infinite grace and it’s just pissing him off more. He retracts his hands from your face and stands up, before raking a hand through his hair in frustration.

“Oh, he didn’t mean to hurt you? Sorry, sweetheart, Callahan didn’t relay that to me that in his message -- you know the one where he let me know you were unconscious! I should go find him then, right? So I can check in on him?”

The honey is long gone from his voice, it is all venom. And the way he says ‘sweetheart’ this time is almost condescending. You’ve heard Hopper raise his voice before, his anger is no stranger to you; however, this is the first time he has risen his voice at you. It startles you for a moment. You let out a frustrated breath and furrow your brow.

“Hey, don’t take this out on me. That isn’t fair.”

“You scared the shit out of me!”

And then there is a painful silence between the two of you. Hopper is practically panting as he tries to regain his composure. Against his better judgment, he glances in your direction. Guilt immediately blooms where anger had previously resided. Deciding he’s done enough damage, he turns and begins to walk toward the door in an attempt to find Jonathan’s room.

“Hey, Hop. Wait.”

Hopper stops as he hears your voice. It sounds smaller than normal -- almost as if you were scared that he’d cast your plea aside and leave you in this room alone. Don’t you know by now he would do anything you asked of him? He lets out a sigh before turning back to you.

“Please don’t go.”

Hopper nods at your request before slowly making his way back over to you. This time, instead of sitting beside you on the small hospital bed, he pulls a chair up to your bedside and slumps into it. He no longer looks angry or concerned or soft. No, he just looks exhausted and the sight causes a sharp pain in your heart. The two of you sit in silence for a few moment before Hopper notices your hands wringing anxiously. He decides then to break the silence.

“How did you even get caught up in this mess?”

You let out a laugh before answering, catching Hopper off guard.

“I was actually at the library.”

Hopper raises an eyebrow at your confession and looks at you in disbelief.

“You’re joking.”

The two of you laugh together at your absolute dumb luck. You’re glad that the tension in the room has dissipated. Now, the silence is comfortable.

“You know Marissa?”

Hopper raises a brow at you once more.

“The librarian?”

“Yes, the librarian. I think she likes you.”

Hopper lets out a half-hearted laugh at your comment. A part of him wishes you were around when he was a younger man -- when he was less bitter. Before the war totured the boyish charmisa out of him. Yet another is glad that you weren’t there to witness his past. That unlike everyone else, you don’t assume that he’s already slept with the local librarian -- even if it’s true.

“Trust me. I know.”

You stare at him with a look of naive confusion. Eventually, you put the pieces together and your eyes light up. You roll your eyes and laugh before covering you face with your hands.

“This explains so much.”

Now it’s Hopper’s turn to be confused.

“What are you talking about?”

“She asks about you all the time.”

If Hopper were a few years younger, that comment would fuel his ego; however, those days are behind him.

“And that explains why she doesn’t like me.”

Hopper is taken aback by that comment. He can’t imagine why anyone wouldn’t like you.

“Why wouldn’t she like you?”

“Because she believes what everyone else does.”

Hopper looks at you as if you’re speaking a different language. You let out a laugh at his oblivious nature which only seems to confuse him more. It makes sense that the comments were directed toward you and not the intimidating chief of police; however, you can’t believe he hasn’t overheard anyone talking about it at this point.

“People talked after you crashed on my couch that night.”

“Oh.”

You don’t have to get into details about what they said. Hopper knows. He knows his reputation proceeds him. And he should have known that spending more time with you would raise a few eyebrows in town. Sometimes he hates this stupid small town and the fact that someone is always watching.

“Did you think about it?”

Hopper looks at you for a moment before he furrows his brow. God, this oblivious man is going to kill you. Deciding that it’s too late to back out now, you decide to double down.

“Did you think about me that night like you thought about Marissa?”

“How hard did that kid hit you?”

He attempts to lighten the mood and brush off the question, but you won’t have it. He’s avoiding your eye contact, deciding instead to fiddle with the pack of cigarettes that he pulled out from his pocket.

“Jim.”

It knocks the breath out of his lungs. You’ve only called him that one other time -- the same night you’re asking about. Hopper was already one too many beers in when you fell beside him, onto the couch. He let out a loud laugh while throwing an arm behind you, on the back of the couch. You laugh along with him and lean your head back into his arm. You turn your head to face him and you’re suddenly aware of how close you are to Hopper. He’s looking at you like you’re a goddamn dream. And you’re not sure what time it is but Hopper looks softer in the moonlight. And you know you’re not thinking straight; however, leaning into the sudden intimacy between you and Hopper doesn’t seem like a terrible idea.

And then you say his name. And it sounds like a goddamn prayer. His mind is fuzzy and he swears you’ve never looked as stunning as you do right now -- he takes a moment to capture this memory and file it away into the back of his subconscious.

He watches as you lean into him. You move slowly, allowing him room to back away if he wanted; however, he doesn’t pull back. Instead, he takes your lead and leans in as well. Before any drunken, heat of the moment decisions can be made, your phone rings, cutting through the thick silence. Hopper emits a low growl, but allows you to pull away and leave the room. You answer the phone and he can hear your voice from the other room. He sets his beer down on your coffee table, deciding that he’s definitely had enough to drink. By the time you return to your living room, Hopper is snoring and the moment has passed.

He may not be drunk now; however, he’s just as enamored as he was that night as you say his name.

“No.”

His answer hits you harder the elbow you took to the face. Your eyes fall to your hands and you nod. Hopper is immediately filled with regret. God, he’s an idiot. That’s not what he meant. Of course he’s thought about you. It’s just different and he’s not quite sure how to explain it to you, but he’s going to try because he cannot stand the sadness that has washed over your features.

“Sweetheart, you’re not Marissa. When I was with her, I wasn’t thinking about her; I was just thinking about me. Of course I thought about it that night -- you and I. It’s just you could never be just a fling to me.”

Hopper avoids eye contact with you as he speaks, but it doesn’t matter. His honest words make your heart flutter and repair the heartbreak that his previous answer caused. A small smile spread across your face at the sudden realization that Hopper likes you.

“I thought about it too, that night.”

Hopper’s head rises and he meets your gaze.

“You know -- you and I.”

You repeat Hopper’s words back to him with a small smile on your face. Hopper can’t help the laugh that escapes him. The two of you have entered uncharted waters; however, Hopper has never felt more comfortable than he does right nwo, wading into the deep end with you. He moves his chair closer to your bedside and takes your hand in his once again. When he meets your eyes, your breath is once again trapped in your lungs. It’s like you’ve transported right back to that night and you’re Jim Hopper’s answered prayer.

“You know, the kid hit you pretty fucking hard. Are you sure you’re thinking straight?”

You roll your eyes; however, Hopper still manages to get a good laugh out of you. Even when he’s flirting, he’s still a goddamn smartass.

“Just kiss me, Jim.”

You don’t need to tell him twice. In a moment, he’s out of his seat -- towering over you once again. If you were any other person in Hawkins, you would probably perceive Jim’s presence so close to you as formidable, but, right now, you just feel safe. And you can’t help but lost in the duality of Jim Hopper.

He moves his hands and gently cradles your face. Your eyes close as you lean into his touch. You allow yourself to just enjoy the feeling of Jim’s skin on your own, until he traces his thumb over your bottom lip. As you open your eyes, you’re met with Jim only a breath away from you. You lean into him and then his lips meet yours and it just feels right - like everything has finally fallen into place; Hawkins, Melvald’s, the Byer’s family, Jim.

Jim’s movements are gentle and slow, until you grab a fistful of his open sheriff’s uniform and pull him closer. The guttural growl that reverberates in Jim’s chest as he moves his hands down your body, sends a shiver down your spine. The sweet, lazy kiss has now turned into something more passionate and desperate. Seemingly lost in the moment, Jim nudges his nose against yours which makes you involuntarily let out a pained hiss. Jim pulls away instantly and his eyes fill with panic, until he realizes what he’s done. A soft chuckle escapes him as he leans his forehead against yours.

“Sorry. Got a little carried away.”

His voice is low and sultry. You’ve never heard anything so heavenly before. And then you're laughing with him. Today has been overwhelming, to say the least, and it’s comical to you. Jim leans back again and meets your eyes. There’s a new fierceness in his gaze that isn’t quite so rageful. He moves his hand to gently tuck a few strands of hair behind your ear.

He opens his mouth to say something, but is interrupted by footsteps stopping just outside your hospital room and a surprised gasp. Jim’s eyes close and he shakes his head. He should have known -- there is no such thing as privacy in this small town. He opens his eyes and you’re smiling at him. You’re fucking smiling at him and it takes everything in him to not kiss you again.

“It’s Joyce isn’t it?”

You peek over his shoulder and spot Joyce standing in the doorway with both of her hands over her mouth. The sight makes your smile grow and you nod your head to answer Jim’s question. He lets out an annoyed sigh and finally moves away from you. Jim doesn’t go too far though, he simply sits on the edge of your hospital bed and keeps a protective hand on your thigh.

“Joyce.”

Jim’s voice is stern. The dramatic change in tone almost gives you whiplash. Joyce seems to be at a loss for words as she just moves her gaze between you both. Jim finally throws both of his hands up in front of him, exasperatedly.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

Jim rolls his eyes at her apology, but there’s a small smile plastered on his face. He might be impatient and uncordial with almost everyone in this small town; however, Jim Hopper has always had a soft spot for Joyce Byers. And right now, Jim feels like he’s back in high school. Joyce has never been nonchalant, so every time Jim included her in his extracurricular activities, it always seemed to bite him in the ass; however, no amount of detentions ever stopped him from inviting her into his life.

“It’s fine, Joyce. How’s Jonathan?”

Your nerves dissipate once Joyce lets you both know that Jonathan is perfectly fine -- a little bruised and battered, but ultimately okay. She attempts to make some awkward small talk with you both, before excusing herself from the conversation so that she can go check on Jonathan.

With that, Jim’s attention is once again focused solely on you. He moves to kiss you again, but stops once his forehead meets yours.

“I swear to God, if a nurse barges in next.”

“Shut up and kiss me, Hopper.”

A content smile spreads across his face at your words. He could get used to hearing those words -- he could get used to all of this.

“Yes, ma’am.”

#jim hopper #jim hopper x reader #hopper x reader #hopper #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #jim hopper fanfic #jim hopper fanfiction #jim hopper imagine #stranger things x reader #two idiots in love #grumpy x sunshine #jim hopper is oblivious but so are you #jim is canonically a ladies man #but he's only got eyes for you #joyce byers #david harbour

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eddiemunsons-missingnipple · 1 year

Text

Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Summary: You and Eddie are guests at Joyce and Hoppers' wedding. When Eddie sees you in your dress, he can't seem to keep his hands off of you.

Warnings: slight voyeurism, fingering, squirting. Established relationship. Dirty talk, Eddie and the reader are little horny dorks in love. Also, Eddie smokes weed (not surprising for a man who carries weed in his lunchbox instead of food)

A/n18+ not proof read ignore any mistakes, please. This has been in my drafts for months now.

"Come on, babe, we're gonna be late," Eddie yelled from your shared bedroom.

He was currently trying to put his unruly curls in a low bun. He's currently wearing a black button-up shirt and black jeans with combat boots. This was your compromise since you told him no to his vest. You, on the other hand, were currently in your bathroom putting on makeup.

Usually, it takes you and Eddie both a while to get ready. You and him rushed around your trailer, trying to find something you misplaced. Your home wasn't dirty, but it could get chaotic sometimes. Eddie referred to it as "organized chaos."

"I'm going as fast as I can. ya want me looking like a clown or something? "

Today was Joyce and Hoppers' wedding day. They invited you and Eddie to come to the ceremony and reception afterward. You've known Joyce since you were a kid and would babysit for her sometimes if Jonathan couldn't. Eddie was a little too familiar with Hopper since he constantly got arrested for vandalism by spray painting his bands name on anything.

You finally finished applying your makeup, and now you hunt down to see where you hung up your dress. Rushing into your shared bedroom, you see Eddie sitting at the edge of the bed about to light up his joint. You snatch it from his lips and toss it on the bedside table. "Babe, really? Right now?"

"Don't act shocked. You know I smoke before I go anywhere." He defended and went to grab the joint from his table.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. have you seen my dress?" You asked him as he lit it up and took a puff. He immediately started coughing and choking.

Rolling your eyes, you begin to panic and search high and low for your black dress. Joyce told you it was a black tie event, and Eddie couldn't have been happier to hear that since he knew you couldn't put him in a funny little dress shirt. You ran around your home while Eddie was busy coughing up his lungs in your bedroom.

You stop and see it's been draped over the couch the entire time.

"I found it." Yelling out to Eddie. Entering the bathroom, you take your robe off and slip the little black dress over your figure.

The dress was black with spaghetti straps and a small slit up the side of your leg. Joyce helped you pick it out when all of you went dress shopping two weeks before the wedding. Eddie hasn't seen you in it yet, only seeing it on the hanger. When you emerge from the bathroom and into your room, his eyes go wide, and his mouth gapes slightly.

"Come on, we can leave now, or we'll be late." You ushered him off the bed, but Eddie immediately grabbed you from behind and nuzzled his face in your neck.

"we can be a little late." He purred in your ear.

You push yourself away from him and head to his van. The entire ride to the venue was pure torture on yours and Eddie part. With him constantly trying to rub his hand up higher and higher on your leg. You fought him off pretty good but it took everything in you to not let him pull over and fuck you in the back of his van. The way Eddie had been thinking about you when he saw you in your dress is how you have been thinking about him in his dress shirt. Especially when he decided to roll up the sleeves and expose his inked forearms. You just knew the both of you were in for a very long, long night.

His hands were roaming up and down your torso, and he stopped when he discovered your exposed thigh. He groaned and grinded into the swell of your ass. "No we gotta go."

Now it's time for the reception which is being held outside the venue of the wedding ceremony was at. Thankful you can finally eat and drink the night away with your friends and family. Eddie had other plans for you, apparently all day long since putting on this dress, he couldn't stop touching you. His hand ran up your thigh even during the ceremony. You had to gracefully smack it away a few times when it got just a little too high, and you could see some people starting to notice. If looks could kill, Eddie would be dead before it's time to cut the cake.

The wedding was beautiful, and Joyce and Hoppers' wedding vows were so romantic even Eddie cried a little. You've never seen Jonathan and Will look so at peace now that they knew their mother was in good hands. El looked beautiful, standing next to her new mom.

Now that you're both seated and able to eat, Eddie has been preoccupied in a conversation with Steve. "Thank God for steve," you think to yourself. Now you don't have to worry about Eddie's wondering hands on you while you try to enjoy your meal.

Unfortunately, it was too good to be true because just when you thought that, he leans over and whispers in your ear, " Either you let me finger you under this table or im not gonna let you come later."

He moved away and went back to laughing after whatever Steve just told him. Acting as if he didn't just threaten you a moment ago. Pouting at the threat and also knowing he's about to finger you with all of your close friends next to you. Carefully, you spread your legs open and scoot closer to the table. You feel Eddie's hand once again creep up your thigh, only this time he didn't stop.

Eddie squeezes it a little and brushes his finger over your covered pussy. You let out a shuttered breath as he moves the lace, keeping you two a part. You try to level your breathing and focus on your food. He runs his middle finger up your wet folds and starts softly rubbing your clit. His dips, his finger lower, collecting some of your slick and brings it back up to your clit.

You whimper a little and try to cough instead, hoping no one would notice. He doesn't stop and continues to lazily rub your clit while keep his attention on Steve. You bite your lower lip when he pushes down on your sensitive bud just a little harder and rubbed it just faster. You can feel yourself getting closer that tightness in your core getting stronger. Your breathing gets heavier, and before you come, you jump up from the table and excuse yourself. Hurrying yourself inside and to the nearest bathroom. You don't pay attention to Eddie calling after you.

You're a little embarrassed at what was happening, but you also didn't want him to stop. You knew if you came at that table, you wouldn't be able to hold back any moans escaping your mouth. Eddie knew that too he knew you couldn't be quiet even if you tried. You hear a little knock at the door and hear Eddies muffled voice behind the door.

"Baby, you okay? "

Opening the door slightly, you look up at him, and he can see your dazed face, and he frowns. He pushes his way inside and pulls you in for a hug. Kissing the top of your head as he smooths down your hair. "Want to go home?"

"I'm sorry we can go home if you like." He reassured.

Shaking your head no, that's now buried in his chest. He smells good, and it somehow brings a sense of calmness to you. He sways you back and forth as you hold onto him.

"I don't wanna go home yet." Your voice muffled. He pulls back a little and kisses you on the forehead.

"Wanna continue in here, sweet thing?" He smiles and wiggles his eyebrows.

He chuckles and slowly backs you up against the wall. The cold tile against your naked back makes you jump slightly. He kisses down your neck and hooks your leg over his hip. He grinds his cock into your core as he nips and bites the tender flesh of your neck. You let out a breathy moan and move your head back to give him more access.

You look up at him and give what he asked a second thought. You wanted to continue and never actually wanted to stop. You just know you can't keep quiet, and what if someone heard you. "I'm loud, Ed. what if someone hears me?"

"I'm gonna cover your mouth with my hand so no one can hear. Kay?" He pulls away from your throat and smiles at the little marks that are starting to blossom.

Nodding your head, he brings his large ringed hand up and covers your mouth. He brings his other hand back down to your wet folds. He pushes the lace of your panties to the side and dips a finger into your tight entrance. You moan in his hand. "I can't wait to get you home. I'm gonna fucking ruin you". He whispered harshly in your ear.

You loved it when Eddie got like this so greedy with passion and lust. Not being able to keep his hands off of you. He doesn't even care about his pleasure right now knowing he's gonna get it later. Right now, it's all about you and getting you ready for what he's gonna do when you both are home.

The thought makes your pussy flutter against his finger that's currently pumping inside you. He brings another finger to join and curves them upwards inside you. The squelching sound of your pussy as Eddie fingers you bounces off the tiled walls. His fingers are relentless inside you, and you whimper against his hand as his fingers find that sweet spot inside you.

"Or should I have you crying as you bounce on it? You'd like my dirt girl?"

"I know, baby, it feels good, huh?" His grip on your mouth tightens just a little. You close your eyes when he moves your leg up higher around his waist. His fingers deeper inside you and rubbing against the spongey spot on your velvety walls.

Your pussy clenches as your slick coats his fingers and drips a little down your leg. " You gonna come for me, baby, huh?" "Fuck you're so tight I can't wait to feel you wrapped around my cock squirming under me" He grunts out.

He's breathing heavily against your ear as he continues to whispersing dirty things to you. Your legs buck, and you move to wrap your arms his shoulders for leverage. He takes his thumb and starts rubbing your clit while his fingers relentlessly fuck you. "Fuck sweetheart you're making a mess all over my hand. "

You moan his name, but it comes out muffled against his hand. Eddie give your pussy a few more strokes of his fingers. He presses and rubs that spot on your walls, and you're coming all over his hand. Leaning your head back, you cry out as you gush all over him. Clear liquid squirting out and soaking his arm and getting on his pants. Your legs almost giving out from under your as your climax washes over you. His fingers keep pumping in and out of you as you come down from your orgasm.

You grip onto him tightly and bring him closer as you ride it out. You're trying to catch your breath and keep your balance, but your legs legs feel like jello. Your mind foggy, you don't really comprehend that Eddie has been calling your name.

"Hmm, what's wrong, Ed?" Your voice sounding so sleepy and small.

"Hey, there's my girl. I thought I lost you for a second. " He said, moving the hair from out of your face. You smile and hold onto him tightly. Eddie hooks his arm under your legs and carries you out the bathroom bridal style.

"I was gonna ask if you wanted to dance now, but it seems your legs have gone all wobbly on me." He joked as he carried you outside to the van.

"I wanna stay." You whined.

"Baby, I would love to stay, but you soaked me back there." Hiding your face in his neck as embarrassment washes over you. He laughs and helps you get in the passenger side of his van.

"Can we still dance later?" You asked as he helped buckle you in.

"Yeah baby, we can dance all night if you like." Eddie said as he closed your door. He hops in the driver's seat, leaning over to give you a quick peck.

He takes off down the street, strumming softly on the steering wheel. Eventually, exhaustion from the hectic day plus the orgasm Eddie just gave you takes over. He looks over at you and smiles to himself as he makes his way back home. Eddie feels bad he'll eventually have to wake you up, but he has some promises and plans to fulfill.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #joseph quinn #eddie munson fanfic #joyce byers #hopper stranger things #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #my writing

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bookshelf-dust · 1 year

Text

the ache

billy hargrove x gn!byers!reader

word count: 625

warnings: grieving, mentions of death, post the battle of starcourt

a/n: um, so…i just wrote this in thirty minutes, give or take. it’s a bit of dialogue that i’ve been kind of toying with in my head for a few days, and here i am, at one in the fucking morning, writing this. i’m sorry in advance. (also for context, none of the season three hopper death shit happened.) i love you all. <3333

————

When you don’t show for dinner, Joyce knows exactly where you are.

There’s no guesswork, or calling around. She knows.

She knows because she’s been where you are. And she knows you shouldn’t be alone.

She remembers when Hopper had come and sat on the floor in front of her without a word. It had settled something inside of her, that small gesture. Sure, it hadn’t soothed the ache—nothing could do that, nothing but time—yet it had helped. It felt like a breath of fresh air.

Joyce parks the car, and makes her way to where she stood all those months ago as they lowered him into the ground.

You’d been silent then. She wasn’t sure you were breathing, really. And when they’d finished, when the funeral was over, you’d just stood there. And she’d waited until you made your way to the car, and she took you home. Anything for her baby.

————

The grass is chilly under your palms, where you’re desperately ripping the blades up and flinging them to the sides. There might be two sparse patches left by the time you’re finished, but that’s okay. It’ll grow back.

Your face is wet. You gave up on wiping it dry long ago.

When you hear footsteps behind you, you don’t even have to turn because you know exactly who it is. Who’s come for you.

You start to cry again, but this time it’s worse. This time you’re sobbing.

Joyce sits down beside you, settling on her knees.

You look up at her, but you can’t really see her because your eyes are filling with tears and blurring your vision.

“Oh, baby,” Joyce says. She runs her hand over your leg.

You cry out. You’re practically wailing. It hurts, you’ve noticed. It’s like an ache, and it won’t leave. It stays.

You look away from her and at his headstone. William Hargrove, it reads.

That’s all he is now, a plot. A marker. A memory.

“Mama.” Joyce never takes her eyes off of you. Seeing you like this fills her with an immense grief, and she wants nothing more than to make it all go away. To fix it. To kiss it better.

“Mama, I miss him.”

A sob wrenches free from your throat, and you’re wiping desperately at your face again because now she’s here and she can see you at your weakest. But it’s no use, so you let it come.

“My baby,” you cry.

Images of Billy flash through your mind: sitting with him in the staff room while it rained one day at the pool and no one could swim, helping him get a tangle out of his hair, kissing him on the cheeks just to see him blush.

He’s gone. He’s never coming back. Your Billy is dead.

“Mama, please.”

You don’t know why you’re begging, but you are. And you keep begging, like it’s going to fix something. It’s not.

Please what? Please bring my boyfriend back. Please undo what happened that night. Please let him be safe. Please.

Joyce wraps her arms around your shoulders and you cling to her like you’re afraid she’ll disappear too. Like she’ll be in the ground and you’ll be sitting and crying out for her just as you are now.

You’re not sure how long you cry for, but she lets you for as long as you need.

And when you’re done, you go home and lay in bed. You slip on one of his shirts, and you think about him.

You cry some more, and try to remember something Hopper told you after he’d taken you out of the mall that night.

“That feeling never goes away. But everyday it does get a little easier.”

You hope he’s right.

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x gn!reader #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove x gender neutral reader #billy hargrove fanfic #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove ficlet #billy hargrove angst #billy stranger things fic #billy stranger things #billy hargrove x byers!reader #billy hargrove x gn!byers!reader #byers!reader #joyce byers #jim hopper #savannah’s fics

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m3talmunson · 1 year

Text

WORD COUNT: 2,296 (just warning u <3 enjoy loves)

Steve didn't expect anyone to remember. It's not like his parents ever remembered to leave a message. It's not like Nancy remembered (although, a couple months later she called him bullshit, and well, that takes the cake). He never bothered to tell the kids, and he didn't blame Robin for not remembering when the day they told eachother they were still coming off of those Russian drugs. He remembered hers though. He remembered that her birthday was March 10th. He threw her a surprise party, invited her band nerds, invited Eddie, fresh out of the hospital, invited Dustin and Erica, their whole trauma bonded troop.

And somehow in the mix, a month later when it was his turn, nobody remembered his.

That was, at least, what he believed. But one person remembered.

A week prior, Dustin had got his grubby little hands on the information of Steve's birthday. He needed to know and wasn't willing to ask Steve, not willing to expose that he didn't know the older man's birthday. So he asked around.

After going down the list, through most of the other kids, through Robin, and even Eddie, he ended up slinked over at the Byers-Hopper residence, quizzing El on how far her powers go, if she could maybe find a way to figure out his birthday. El explained that she probably can't do that, but she was willing to try for Dustin's sake. She rushed into the living room, Dustin in tow, finding the nearest radio and trying to rush out with it before getting stopped by Hopper and Joyce, who were on the couch watching the TV, which those two gremlins so unceremoniously cut in front of it twice already.

"Woah woah woah! Slow down there, what's going on?" Hop asked. He knows when El frantically needs access to a radio, that something's going on.

"It's Steve." She says, not offering any context. That immediately gets Joyce into defensive mode. Nobody messes with her boys. Or any of her kids, for that matter.

"What's wrong with Steve?" She asks, jolting up out of her comfortable position.

"Woah hold on, he's ok!" Dustin explains. At that, Joyce let's out a relieved sigh and lays back into Hoppers arm that was just wrapped around her.

"Yes! He is ok, we just need to see him." El finally explained.

"Yeah! About early June a year ago I said something about his age and I was wrong, which means his birthday is some time soon and I don't know it! And El said she might know a way to find out!"

"Oh you don't need to go through all that! Steve's birthday is next Thursday. I was gonna make him a cake and bring it to his house, like I did last year! Why didn't you just ask around?"

All three of the others in the room were confused by her response, even Hop, who had never even thought of the idea of doing something for the Harrington boy's birthday, even though he's the closest thing to a father figure the boy has got.

"Next week??" Hopper asked, suddenly feeling bad for not knowing that about the boy, or that Joyce has been the only one caring for him the year prior on his birthday.

"No I did ask around! You just happen to be the only person in Hawkins to know it!" Dustin said, cutting off any answer that might have come to Hopper's question.

"Not even Nancy or Robin or Eddie?"

"Nope. You're the only one." El said. El didn't really have a birthday, so they threw her a 'Found You!' party every year. It gave Will something better to focus on that day every year, so it made everyone pretty happy. She knew how much birthdays meant now.

"Well that just can't be. We'll have to throw him a party. Everyone needs a good send off into year 20." Hopper said, standing up and getting Joyce and El and Dustin to the dining room table, pulling Will away from his painting too, to plan how they were doing this.

One game plan, a thoroughly scribbled-on napkin, and a couple of phone calls later, Robin and Eddie were in on it, finding a way to get Steve from work to the Byers-Hopper house on a random Thursday. Robin wouldn't be working that day, so Steve wouldn't need to drive her to work. Eddie was fresh out of high school, (it really was his year!) so he did actually have a job, but he was pretty used to spending his lunches at Family Video.

They decided that Eddie would offer to hang out after work, shoot the shit or whatever, and pick Steve up from his house after work, bringing him to the house where the kids and everyone would be waiting.

This year, Steve was going to feel valued, no matter what.

~~~~~

Steve woke up, dreaded his shift ahead, and got ready as per usual that day. It didn't really matter that it was his birthday, there was no red dot on the receiver saying anyone else knew it was his birthday and might have called, so he pretended it was just a normal day, exactly like the rest of the world was doing.

The real crime is that his birthday fell on a Thursday. Thursdays, even over summer, are the slowest days for Family Video, so they don't even bother scheduling two people for the day. So he couldn't even hope Robin had maybe remembered his birthday, because he wouldn't see her all day. He would at least see Eddie, who he thought didn't know his birthday, so he couldn't feel bad for not telling Eddie, and Eddie couldn't feel bad for forgetting.

He had grown to love Eddie's lunch visits, sitting behind the counter talking to someone who understood him, who he could lower his mask around. Not all the way though. There are some parts of Steve that are for Robin's eyes only. Like the fact that he has feelings for Eddie. Feelings that he intended to keep hidden away. Where they were safe. Where he was safe.

Nonetheless, he lit up when that bell above the door chimed at 12:35, accommodating the quick ride from the record store Eddie worked at.

And, so what if Eddie didn't know it was his birthday, Eddie still asked to hang out after work, said "I found a spot you'll want to see," in that voice of his that eludes mischief, and Steve was in. He was going to go home, put on a nicer shirt and the watch he forgot on the bathroom counter that morning, and he was going to hang out with Eddie for his birthday.

He kept that dinky little smirk on his face for the rest of the day, and clocked out the moment Keith walked into those doors to pick up the closing shift, not sticking around for chit chat. He had 20 minutes till Eddie was off of work, which meant he had 30 minutes to get home, change shirts, spray on fresh cologne, and then pretend he wasn't waiting by the door to hear Eddie knock.

When he did though, Steve was not prepared to see a Eddie's bandana wave at him.

"You're gonna want full shock value for this one, big boy." Eddie said, whilst Steve hoped Eddie didn't see the blood rise to his cheeks at the nickname.

"Can I at least put it on in the van?"

"I'll settle for that if you don't gripe about the music!" Eddie joked. He had actually gotten a tape from Jonathan of Tears for Fears, so he knew Steve wouldn't.

"How am I supposed to do that when you blare it loud enough for Indianapolis to hear?"

"I think you'll like it today Stevie." Eddie said, opening the car door for Steve and giving a little bow, then watching Steve tie the bandana around his eyes as he walked around to the driver's side.

"Feel like I'm getting the full El treatment." Steve chuckled, as he heard the car door open.

"Hardy har, just make sure you can't see. I mean the shock value thing." He said, turning the key in the ignition. As the music started, Steve let out a little gasp, and reached blindly for Eddie's arm beside him.

"Is this?? Tears for Fears?? Aw, Eds, you don't hate all of my music after all, how sweet." Steve joked.

Eddie was thankful that Steve was blindfolded, so he couldn't see the pink tinge to his face.

"Just for you Stevie."

Steve relished in the quiet music, the bumps in the road, and the comfortable silence between him and Eddie with a smile on his face. It was a miracle, to Steve, that someone cares for him on his birthday, even unknowingly, because it hadn't happened in so long. Steve was even contemplating telling Eddie it was his birthday, thanking Eddie for the best birthday he had in a long time, when the van stopped, and the music right after.

"We're here!" Eddie told Steve. "Ah ah ah, don't take the blindfold off, I'll help you where we're going. Full. Shock. Value."

"I'm beginning to think it's a special occasion or something." Steve said, like it wasn't one. That hurt Eddie's heart a little, but it's ok, he thought. Steve will know how loved he is soon.

"C'mon, I'll help you up the steps." Eddie offered, grabbing Steve's hand for completely platonic reasons.

"Steps? Eddie where are we?" Steve asked.

"Full shock value, remember?" He said, opening the door for Steve and guiding by the shoulders into the Byers-Hopper living room, where the party, Jonathan, Nancy, Robin, Joyce, and Hopper were waiting behind a cake that Hopper haphazardly stuck 20 blue and green candles on. Lucas even dragged Erica along, when she pretended she didn't want to go wish Steve happy birthday.

"Blindfold off Stevie." Eddie said.

Steve didn't expect anyone to remember. Didn't expect to peek from behind the blindfold with one eye and be serenaded with a chorus of "SURPRISE!!!"

He stepped back into Eddie at the loud noise, Eddie grabbing back on to Steve's shoulders.

Steve didn't expect Joyce to be holding up a cake with 20 lit candles, didn't expect Dustin to rush to his side, didn't expect Hopper to clap him on the back after he stepped forward.

"Happy birthday kiddo." Hop said.

"How did you- when did- guys!!" He said, looking down at the cake.

"Red velvet and chocolate icing, with blue and green candles, your favorite." Joyce told him.

"Just like last year-" He was cut off by Joyce putting down the cake on the coffee table and wrapping Steve up in a hug. Which caused the rest of the group, even Mike, to wrap Steve in a huge group hug. When they all pulled away, Lucas held up the cake.

"Make a wish, man." He said.

"Guys- I don't deserve all this, how can I-"

"Oh cut the shit Steve, we love you. Now, you heard him, make a wish."

And so, Steve closed his eyes, thought for a second, and blew out the candles. And then, just like that, the big old sheet cake was getting sliced into enough squares for all of them.

As the party went on, and they all laughed, and drank an obscene amount of soda, Steve slipped into the silent outdoors offered by the Byers-Hopper back porch swing. He stared off into the treeline, hoping nobody would notice his absence. He would be back inside in a minute or two, he just needed to catch his breath after it all. Then he heard the squeak of the screen door, and saw Eddie's leather jacket sleeve before looking back into the tree line.

Eddie took a seat to Steve's right, and placed a little wrapped package on Steve's lap.

"Oh Eddie, you didn't have to-"

"Open it." Eddie cut him off.

Steve carefully tore the (oddly enough, very neatly done) wrapping paper away, revealing a hellfire shirt.

"You? You got me a hellfire shirt? But I'm not a part of the party?" Steve failed to stop the smile from leaking into his face.

"Of course you are? Considering how since school got out you've let us use your house, you drive the goblins around, and you've been doing it for years! It's about time you have one." Eddie explained.

Now, Steve couldn't stop the tears from gathering in his eyes.

"Yeah but, I don't deserve any of this. Anyone can drive those kids around, anyone can lend you a space, it's the least I could do. Hell, I'm not even going to college, I'm just another a high school has-been asshole working at a barely above minimum-wage job. There's so many better people you guys could have chosen to care about." Steve settled his eyes back on the treeline, trying his best to hide the tears that his voice revealed, that were now slowly streaming down his face.

"Steve no. Absolutely not. You're so much more than that to all of us. To me." That got Steve to look back at Eddie. Eddie held Steve's face in his hands, let the tears run down his arms."You're our warrior, you keep those little misfits safe, you saved my life. And we all know you would take bullets for those dorks. You heard Little Red. We love you, Steve..." Eddie hesitated, looking away for a moment. "I love you, Steve. Even if none of the other assholes in this world will, I do."

Steve couldn't let Eddie go on any longer. Not when he was saying stuff like that. So he closed the distance. And when Eddie kissed back, he knew everything would be alright.

He didn't expect people to remember. He didn't expect people to care about him. But now he finally understood, the unequivocally did.

#for plot purposes imagine S4 took place early february #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steve stranger things #dustin henderson #eddie stranger things #steddie blurb #steddie drabble #steddie fanfic #oneshot #joyce byers #jim hopper #jopper

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vvvrrroooomm · 1 year

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MORE STRANGER THINGS STUFF THAT BREAKS ME

- Dustin befriended and (pretty much) raised an extremely dangerous inter-dimensional creature and no one talks about it?????

- 90% of the characters on the show have daddy issues one way or another

- Kate Bush never allowed shows or movies to use her songs with Stranger Things being her only exception

- Millie saying the day she shaved her head was “the most empowering day of my life.”

- Gaten carrying everyone

- Elevens hair in season 4 mirrors Joyce’s hair

- The ENTIRETY of the Halloween scenes with the party

- Dustin making a whole radio that can reach North to South Pole and NO ONE CARED

- Benny Hammond

- Joyce kicking Mayor Kline in the balls

- “Do you know Dustin Henderson?” “Know him? I’ve bled with him.”

- Technically this isn’t directly a Stranger Things thing but how on Ao3 ‘Soccer mom Steve Harrington’ is an official tag

- Dustin and Erica’s friendship

- Platonic Stobin

- Alexei and his cherry slushees 😭😭😭

And,

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blaqcats-fics · 7 months

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TAKE A CHANCE ON ME

STWG DISCORD DRABBLE

STEDDIE + DRAG QUEEN!STEVE AND DRAG KING!ROBIN. PROMPT: FINISHING A PROJECT

"How many more?" Stevie groaned, falling onto the couch, her fishnets shifting up further. Her face grimaced as she adjusted on the couch, hoping the night would end sooner than later. Her tuck was starting to become uncomfortable.

Robin was leaning in the mirror, checking his contour to make sure it hadn't creased or faded. He glanced at Steve through the mirror, "Well, depends if you make your goal with your next show," he said. "You need about 500 to pay for the deposit."

Stevie frowned. 500 dollars was much more than she typically made at night. A good night would be around 200 dollars, but those were around holidays. Most nights were slow and had few people, especially since she was still getting her foot in the door with drag. "The crowd's not that good tonight."

Robin turned in his chair to look at her, scratching underneath his stubble. "Yeah," he sighed. "It's getting later, so maybe you'll get lucky with a few guests."

Stevie licked her lips, remembering the tips she could get, "Yeah. At least it's more money than I got selling Cumshots."

Robin snorted. "Oh my god, you in the golden speedo? You looked like Rocky!"

"Okay, yeah," Stevie laughed. "That was before I started drag. I only started to work here so I could support you," she reminded.

"Now look at you, Ms. SS Butterscotch," Robin joked.

"God, that's such a stupid name isn't it?" Stevie laughed.

Robin rolled his eyes, "Not much worse than Rocky Road."

They looked at each other before laughing at each other.

A knock on the door broke them from their laughter, and one of the club bouncers opened the door and stuck his head in. "You're on Stevie," he said.

Stevie pouted in annoyance, her feet already from performing earlier. "Alright," she said, sitting up. "I'm coming. Thanks, Hopper."

The man grunted before leaving the room.

"500," Robin said.

Stevie nodded, standing, "500."

"Suck someone's dick if you have to," Robin said.

Stevie gave him a look before going to the mirror and checking her wig. It wasn't anything extravagant, just a wig that matched her natural hair color and made it seem like Farrah Fawcett’s Feathered Hair from Charlie's Angels.

"Okay, wish me luck,' Steve winked, heading out the room.

"Break a leg!" Robin called.

Steve grinned, walking to one of the stage managers, double checking everything was set correctly, before adjusting the padding on her chest and stepping out on the stage as the intro to Take A Chance on Me started to play, mouthing the lyrics as she did.

The spotlight followed her as she walked across the stage, catching the sequins of her white dress and the glitter in her eyes. She shot a few winks to guests as they cheered. Stevie continued to move around the stage, taking the dollar bills as they were held out to her before making her way into the crowd.

As she walked down the aisles, a man caught her eyes, and her act nearly faltered. She caught her composure and walked in his direction, taking the money and note from his hand. She felt her face flush as he winked at her.

Oh my god.

OH MY FUCKING GOD!

Eddie Munson was at the shittest Drag Club in Indianapolis and winked at Stevie. He gave her a tip! What in the everloving fuck?

Stevie bit her lip, winking back at him before turning around and getting the rest of her tips as she sang the lyrics, making her way back upstage as the song started to end. Another bouncer handed her a bucket as she got on stage, letting her put the money in there.

The song closed, and through the speakers, she could hear Joyce call out, "A round of applause for our very own SS Butterscotch!"

Stevie gave a bow, her eye's catching Eddie as she did. She grinned a bit before hurrying off stage with her bucket. She pushed past people going back into Robin's dressing room and he pulled his wig off.

"Steve, what the hell?"

"Robin, Eddie Munson is here!"

"What!?" Robin shrieked.

"He's here and he winked at me!"

"Oh shit, Dingus!"

Steve nodded, kicking his heels off and digging for the note in the bucket that was attached to the tip. He felt his mouth go dry as he counted the money. "He tipped me 500," he whispered, holding up the five bills.

"Steve, you can buy the bakery!"

"I can buy it!" Steve let out a choked sob, looking at the note, which had a messy number written on it with the note saying:

I can take a chance on you if you'll take a chance on me x

#stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie fanfic #steddie ficlet #stwgdailyprompt #steddie drabble #stranger things drabble #drag queen steve harrington #drag king robin buckley #jim hopper #joyce byers #rockstar eddie munson #steve loves abba #scoops ahoy #platonic stobin #stobin #robin buckley

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stevesxyellowxsweater · 1 month

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I was wondering if you could do a joyce byers x daughter reader or daughter figure where the reader has a bad panic attack and joyce consoles/comforts them? I'm asking all around for this fic. I have really bad panic attacks so i'd like to think of joyce as a comfort.

cw: panic attack, exam pressure, stress, gn!reader Note: I hope this helps you in someway lovely.

Nothing was going right at the moment, you had been studying for your SATs and you couldn't help but feel the pressure. You needed a full ride to get into your college of choice and the more you tried to study the more you felt that it wasn't going into your head.

It was starting to feel stuffy in your room, you were only wearing a shirt and shorts but it was getting incredibly hot and you just needed some air. Getting up, you went to the window and pushed it open. Taking some deep breaths of the air outside, closing your eyes for a moment as the cool breeze kissed your skin.

Feeling a little more relaxed, you turned to find the breeze had sent your notes flying everywhere. “No, no, no.” Rushing over you began to scramble to pick it all up, everything was mixed and nothing was in the order you'd had them. Scrambling to pick them up, your door flew open sending more notes flying everywhere.

“What do you want, Will?” You yelled at him as you saw notes heading out the bedroom door. “Can you give me a ride?” He asked sheepishly. “Ask Jonathan!” You snapped before pushing him out of the room and slamming the door. Sinking to the ground, tears began to trickle down your face as you sat against your bed with a mess of notes all around you. Your heart was starting to race harder than if you'd been doing gym.

“I'm going to fail, I'm not going to collegeâ€¦ we can't afford it.” You began to stammer out, your breath catching in your throat as you felt your dreams disappearing right in front of you. Your hands began to shake and you could hardly see through the tears as you tried to breathe, each breath catching at the back of your throat preventing you from being able to properly breathe.

You'd always wanted to go and get a great job and be able to help your mother and now it felt like your dream was slipping through your fingers. The room felt like it was swaying side to side like that boat ride at the theme park, if you weren't sitting down you'd probably have fallen down. Your ears began to ring, a high pitch noise like a kettle. You moved your hands to cover your ears trying desperately to cover the noise.

It was so loud you couldn't hear anything around you, not even a knock on your door. The door slowly opened and you saw your mother standing there, maybe she'd come to yell at you for how you spoke to Will, but the look on your face stopped her. With a worried expression on her face, Joyce stepped in and shut the door behind her.

She didn't say anything until she sat down in front of you and took your hands. “It's okay sweetheart.” She said gently as she looked you in the eyes. “I want you to follow my breathing okay?” Looking at your mother, you watched her breath in and you did your best to copy and only released when she did. “That's it sweetheart, and again.”

You repeated the exercise several times before she moved to cup your face. “I have you, you're here with me. It's okay. Inâ€¦ and out.” She said slowly as she worked on your breathing and getting you to focus on her. “You're doing great. I'm really proud of you.” She told you as you took the breaths without her guiding you this time.

“That's it sweetheart.” Joyce said slowly as she looked at you and wiped your eyes. “Whatever it is, whatever is scaring you, we can work through together.” Joyce assured you, as you remained focused on your mother’s face. “I have you, you're safe.” She said her soothing voice helped you calm down.

As your breath returned to normal, she moved beside you and wrapped her arms around you. “I got you.” She uttered, placing a kiss on your head. “Whatever is upsetting you, we can talk when you're ready.” Resting your head on her chest, you listened to her heartbeat and closed your eyes, letting the calm wash over you until you were ready to talk.

#joyce byers x reader #Joyce Byers x gn!reader #Joyce Byers x child!reader #Joyce Byers drabble #Joyce Byers fic #Joyce Byers fanfic #Reader x Joyce byers #Gn!reader x Joyce byers #Joyce Byers one shot

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angeldreamsoffanfic · 1 year

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Elizabeth Marie Munson née Hart was buried on the 2nd Sunday of May back in 1977, back when Eddie had only been eleven. It had been hard, not that death was ever an… easy thing mind you.

She’d been buried in Hawkins, as stated in the will that’d she’d put together (no matter if it had been written on hospital napkins or not it was followed just the same). Eddie’s custody had been a bit more complicated, as Al Munson had put up a bit of a fight in regards to Elizabeth’s wishes. She was adamant that Eddie go to Wayne, while Al didn’t care about what happened to him… as long as it went against what Elizabeth had wanted.

But no matter, because Eddie knew that Elizabeth loved him as much (if not more somehow) than Wayne did. And Eddie loved Wayne, honestly and wholeheartedly he did. But there was something missing from his life, and that was his mama.

Which, Eddie knows distantly, is what makes the day today as difficult to swallow as it does.

Because not only is it the day of his mama’s death but it’s also Mother’s Day.

And he can’t exactly fault anyone in his life for not being able to understand how he feels today. He really can’t bring himself to, even as he sits right in front of his mama’s gravestone- knees to his chest like he’s a little kid again. The rest of his odd found family has their parents, and so they just… they don’t fully understand what Eddie’s going through.

Not really anyway.

He knows they mean well, really he does. But no matter, because it’s hard and he already has a lot on his mind as it stands.

Eddie pauses and draws in a shaking breath, eyes wet and glossy with yet to shed tears, as he keeps his chin on his knees even as he hears a car door slam shut. It’s followed by several other ones, and Eddie doesn’t look behind him as he hears slowly measured footsteps behind him. He doesn’t turn, but he does speak.

“You don’t have to be here, Harrington.”

“Not Harrington, son.” It’s Hopper’s voice that makes Eddie finally turn, and he’s greeted to the sight of the older man- holding a bouquet of pink tulips wrapped in cellophane. Hopper’s in one of his nice shirts, one of the ones that Eddie knows that Joyce forced him in.

“What are you doing here?” Eddie manages to croak out, and the corner of Hopper’s lip twitches slightly- before he gestures with his head back to the parking lot.

“If you think you’re alone today, kiddo, you really got another thing coming.”

Eddie turns his head slightly to look past Hopper, and he can’t help the choked gasp that manages to make its way out of his throat. The entire group is there, all the way from The Party down to even the Corroded Coffin boys. Everyone in their crisp Sunday best (or as close to it anyway) with bright bouquets of pink tulips held between their hands.

Eddie turns again to look at Hopper, and can’t get out any words as he watches as Hopper is joined by Steve Harrington. Eddie has never quite been able to figure out Steve (no matter how much he tries), but he never…

“Hey ma’am,” Steve isn’t even looking at Eddie though, instead focused quite intently on the area behind Eddie… and oh.

Oh.

“I’ve had the pleasure of being one of your son’s friends this past year,” Steve carefully speaks as he moves closer until he’s next to Eddie, before he sits down- not minding getting dirt and grass on his pants. “And we all missed this last year but we figured… well we couldn’t let him come down here and mourn you alone.”

“Stevie-” Eddie tries, and Steve says nothing as he reaches a blind hand out- before he entwines his fingers with Eddie’s. Eddie sniffles again, even as Steve presses the tulips as close to the grave as he can.

“Your son matters to so many people, Ms. Hart, I mean that genuinely and honestly.” Steve keeps going, as if Eddie had said nothing. Eddie tries to keep the tears at bay, holding onto Steve’s hand as if it’s a lifeline. “And I didn’t know how to really show that… but I figured this might help a bit.”

Eddie is confused for just a split second, before he hears Jim Hopper clear his throat- before he then speaks.

“Ma’am, I know that your son has made a safety net for my daughter in the times where I couldn’t. I know that she loves him, truly, and for that I’m a bit more than grateful towards you.” Hopper then clears his throat, before he carefully steps around them- and sets his bouquet of tulips right next to the ones that Steve had put down.

Hopper curls a hand around Steve’s shoulder and bends to whisper something into his ear, and Eddie focuses on blinking back his tears as the man turns and walks away.

It’s silent for a minute, before it continues again.

“Hi Ms. Hart, Eddie’s told me a load about you and he was my first friend here in Hawkins and I just want to let you know we… we haven’t forgot about you.” Gareth’s voice is next, and Eddie lets out another sniffle as he sets a bouquet down. He doesn’t leave though, and instead sits right next to Eddie- taking the hand that Steve isn’t holding.

“Hi ma’am, Eddie hasn’t told me much about you… but I think you’d like the man he turned out to be, and from one mom to another? I’m keeping an eye on him for you.” Joyce. Another bouquet.

“He’s like really cool and taught us so much about this game we play, Dungeons and Dragons and I’m not sure if you knew what that was but it’s like this role playing-” Dustin. Another bouquet.

“He’s like my brother-” Jeff. Another bouquet.

“He’s like my son-” Wayne. Another bouquet. And a firm hand on a shoulder that never leaves.

“You’re someone he talks about whenever I need him to and that means a lot-” Max. Another set of flowers. A kiss against the top of Eddie’s head.

“He’s a good kid and you had to have been like an amazing mom for him to turn out the way he did because let me tell you-” Robin. Another bouquet.

“My dad says I’m allowed to choose my family and I chose Eddie, and from what he’s told me… you were a good mama.” Eleven sniffles softly as she presses her flowers into the ever-growing pile at the base of the gravestone. Eddie reaches out a touches the back of her leg- and it’s enough for the girl to launch herself into Eddie’s arms.

They stay like that. No one questions it.

“From his stories you sound really interesting and I think my mom and-” Mike. Another bouquet.

“Hello ma’am-” Lucas. Another bouquet.

“He’s kind of a nerd but-” Erica. Another bouquet.

“He’s a really good friend, Ms. Hart. Like there’s not a lot of them out in the world, and Eddie’s a good one.” Freak. Another bouquet.

“You and Wayne raised him right and I hope that wherever you are-” Nancy. Another bouquet.

“From what he’s-” Jonathan. Another bouquet.

“Ms. Dudette he’s so-” Argyle. Another bouquet.

“He’s one of my brothers. And that’s all there is to it, and I’m so sad we couldn’t meet and I couldn’t tell you this in person-” Will. Another bouquet.

In the end, Elizabeth Marie Munson née Hart has nineteen bouquets of pink tulips surrounding her grave. In the end, she and her son are completely and wholly surrounded by people that may not have known her— but they love her just the same.

Eddie Munson smiles, and clears his throat as he begins to speak, pulling the attention of his family to him.

“So the reasons why mama liked pink tulips is-”

The sun slowly begins to set as the ragtag group settles in to listen to Eddie’s story, all scrunched in as close as they can.

And for once in his life?

Eddie Munson hates the 2nd Sunday of May just a little bit less.

sacrifice to the readmore gods. mother’s day is really hard for me sometimes, so enjoy this word vomit of a ficlet i produced in about an hour. <3

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thefreakandthehair · 6 months

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@eddiemonth prompt, oct 16th: Library | Eyes on Fire - Blue Foundation | Curious a/n: little Eddie & Wayne, ADHD!Eddie, pre-canon Eddie & Jonathan friendship. un-betaed because I'm challenging myself to write these in under an hour. read on ao3 | ao3 masterpost here

All his life, all seven years of it so far, Eddie has been told to be quiet, to sit still, and to not touch things. He can’t help it most of the time– there are so many things to explore, and learn, and find, so many different textures to feel. Eddie learns best when he’s able to physically hold something in hands to help him focus and it’s gotten him into trouble on more than one occasion.

But living with Wayne, at least for the summer, he’s been given more opportunities than ever before to lean into his curious nature without being scolded. They’ve gone to museums, petting zoos, science centers, even the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Each new experience is a novelty and Eddie’s loved every single one of them. Today though, Eddie’s nervous.

“You almost ready, kid?” Wayne pokes his head into Eddie’s bedroom, warm smile and a cocked eyebrow. Eddie’s been taking his time, untying and retying his shoelaces over and over to stall.

“Uh, yeah! Yeah, I’m ready.” Eddie offers a tight smile, one that feels faux even to him.

“Do you not wanna go? We can try something else if the library isn’t your thing.”

Eddie shakes his head. “No, I wanna go! It’s just…”

Wayne enters the room fully, sitting down on the bed next to Eddie who fidgets with his fingers and looks down at the floor, his feet swaying back and forth over the edge of the bed.

“Just what?” He doesn’t touch him, but Wayne’s presence alone is comforting enough.

“What if I get in trouble? Aren’t you supposed to be super quiet and stuff in libraries?”

Eddie knows Wayne well enough by now to know that he’d never get in trouble that way that he has with his dad, but he doesn’t want to disappoint or embarrass Wayne, either.

“Well, yeah, on the grown up floor for the cranky old guys like me,” Wayne bumps his shoulder against Eddie’s, and Eddie can’t help but smile– real this time. “But there’s a whole children’s room that has games, lots of books, fun stuff. And if it feels like too much, you just give me our little signal and we’re outta there.”

When Eddie first started going places with Wayne, they’d developed their secret signal that probably wasn't too secret but worked just the same– Eddie would stand next to Wayne and step on his foot. Not hard, not enough to hurt, but enough that Wayne would notice, look down, and see Eddie’s overwhelm. And like promised, they’re outta there. No questions asked.

“Okay, I think I’m ready then.” Eddie stands up and heads toward the front of the trailer. “Let’s go.”

They’re at the library for all of a few minutes, Eddie hesitant to leave Wayne’s side as they scour the fantasy books, when he meets another kid around his age, maybe a little younger. Both boys go to reach for the same illustrated copy of a book about dragons.

“Oh, sorry, you can take it,” Eddie offers, moving his hand instinctually.

“No, no it’s okay, you were looking at it first. Go ahead.” The other boy responds, shrugging and looking back at the shelf.

There’s a woman behind him, smiling down fondly as she speaks. “Sweetie, why don’t you share with your new friend?”

“Yeah, if you wanna share, we could. Only if you want to though.” Eddie bounces on his heels, hopeful. He doesn’t get to make a lot of friends when he’s home with his parents.

“Okay, yeah,” the little boy smiles carefully and pulls the book from the shelf.

Eddie follows him to a small table at the end of the aisle and they pour over the pages, full of colorful illustrations and short stories. Eddie loses track of time, but he and his new friend, who he learns is named Jonathan, are just kids who don’t need to watch the clock.

They finish the book and return for another, and then another. Eddie's disappointed when the day ends and they have to leave, but he sees Wayne trade contact information with Jonathan's mom, Joyce.

"We'll see you again next week, Eddie. It was so nice to meet you." Joyce smiles, sweet and comforting, and Eddie isn't so afraid of the library anymore.

#eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #jonathan byers #joyce byers #wayne munson #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #myblurbs #eddie month prompts #don't mind me just projecting a little onto eddie [fake surprise from the audience]

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artiststarme · 1 year

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Sneaky, Like a Ninja

Kind of a part 2 to this post based on a comment from @doubleb11. I hope you guys like it and please leave your thoughts in the comments!

Now with a third and final part!

~*~*~*~

Living with Hopper, Joyce, and the kids while he recovered was great. Steve woke up every morning to breakfast before work, even if it was usually a disgustingly sweet Triple-Decker Eggo Extravaganza. He and the kids were bonding and the stilted conversations with Jonathan had lost their awkwardness. Even Joyce was starting to come around to Steve and was involving him in conversations instead of speaking around him. Things were good.

What Steve didn’t appreciate was his midnight curfew or the rule that the door had to stay open three inches when all he wanted to do was make out with his boyfriend. He didn’t want Hopper glaring into his borrowed bedroom while he tried to “talk” with Eddie. I mean, anything more than a cautious peck was enough for Hopper to barge in with threats.

These rules were grating on Steve’s nerves. For most of his childhood and all of his teenage years, Steve has been on his own. He made his own rules and could do almost whatever he wanted without repercussions since his parents were always out of town. So, living with other people and being expected to follow arbitrary rules fitted to a ten year old girl was significantly impacting his sense of independence.

What choice did he have other than sneaking out? His head was fine, the mild concussion symptoms had long since dissipated but Hopper was unwilling to concede and if Steve didn’t have a fulfilling make out session with Eddie at least every other day, he was going to die. Luckily for Steve, he was somewhat of a ninja.

So on a night that Hopper and Joyce both went to sleep early and Jonathan was out of the house working late, Steve snuck out. Honestly, it was easier than he had anticipated. He wiggled through the bedroom window, flopped ungracefully onto the hard earth while making sure not to hit his head, and waited a moment. When none of the house lights turned on and everyone remained silent in sleep, Steve grabbed Will’s bike and took off towards the trailer park. The ride was smooth and there was no one out at that time of night, it made the ride peaceful in a way that Steve hadn’t before considered. When he got to the Munson trailer, Eddie pulled him to his bedroom for cuddles and kisses. It had been far too long for both of them despite it being only a little over a week. Steve bragged to Eddie about how he was ‘sneaky, like a ninja’ and he kissed him to his heart’s content. He could get used to this.

Early the next morning, Eddie drove him back to the Byers’ and dropped him off a few houses down. He did not want Hopper to see him dropping off his son so early, thank you very much.

Steve gave him a kiss goodbye and carefully snuck back into the house. He was quietly closing the window behind him when he heard a throat clear.

Steve jumped and turned around to face an unimpressed Jonathan. “Dude, what the hell! You should be asleep right now!”

Jonathan’s look only got blanker, “so should you. Where were you?”

“I was with Eddie, so what?” Steve did not want to talk about his sexual escapades to his pseudo step-brother/ex-girlfriend’s ex.

“Steve, what would’ve happened if Hop had noticed you missing?”

“He wouldn’t have, okay. I’m sneaky! It’s fine, he's not going to find out,” Steve assured him.

“Alright, if you’re sure, just be careful,” Jonathan warned before clapping his shoulder and walking away.

It was fine, Steve was practically a ninja with how sneaky he could be. No one else would find out.

His attempts to sneak out were successful the next several times. He would just use the bedroom window and off he went. However, on this particular night, when he crawled back into his room after spending a few hours with Eddie, Will and El were standing in front of the bed waiting for him like the twins from The Shining.

“Son of a bitch!” Steve exclaimed and jerked back into the wall in surprise. He hadn’t expected the kids to notice his absence considering both of them were supposed to be asleep. “What the hell are you doing in here?”

“We were looking for you. What are you doing?” Will asked him. Steve didn’t know how to break it to him that he was sneaking out to make out with his beloved dungeon master so he stayed quiet.

“Steve, are you okay? Should I get my dad?” El asked him, she seemed genuinely worried about him which made his heart hurt.

“No! Do not get Hopper! Look guys, I was just going out to get some air. Everything is fine.”

“Why did you not use the door? Why the window?” El asked.

“Were you sneaking out?” Will asked him.

“Okay, you need to tone down the accusations, kid. I was not sneaking out. Why would I even do that?” Steve asked him.

“To see Eddie?” Will’s eyebrows raised for emphasis and Steve just stared at him.

“Oh,” El nodded sagely. “You do not like the three inch rule. I did not either.”

“Wow! Hey,” Steve exclaimed, waving his hands. “You’re a kid, you shouldn’t be doing anything behind closed doors. Me though? I’m an adult. Also, it’s none of your business! Go to bed, weirdos!”

They each narrowed their eyes at him in tandem which kind of creeped him out but they filed out of the room regardless. Jesus Christ, Steve couldn’t wait to get back home to the empty house and parents that didn’t care what he was doing.

When he tried to sneak out again the next night, he ran into a snag. Apparently, Will and El did not appreciate his methods of escape via bedroom window and had glued it shut. No amount of gently frantic jimmying could force it open. Son of a bitch!

The next few days Steve tried increasingly creative ways of sneakily escaping the house. He jumped through Will’s window one day, he left the back door propped open slightly to avoid the creaking sound later, he even constructed a fake body out of pillows and stayed out all night!

When it was finally time to return home after Hopper kidnapped him, he could only breathe a sigh of relief. The Hopper-Byers were a caring bunch but the stress was starting to build up. Hopper gave him a ride back to his house and stopped him just as he was about to walk away from the cruiser.

“Hey kid?”

“Yeah,” Steve looked back at him in askance. He better not try to talk him into going back because he already had a movie night with Eddie and Robin planned at his place.

“Next time, go through the front door. It doesn’t creak like the one in the back or stick like that bedroom window. Alright?” Hopper’s voice was void of emotion but his eyes looked amused.

“You knew?!” Steve screamed.

“Of course I knew, I’m the chief of police. You think anything happens around here that I’m not aware of?” The teasing tone dropped from his voice but he continued. “Tell Munson that he better stop defiling my son or we’re going to have words. Capiche?”

“Jesus Christ, Hop,” he muttered. His voice was kind of strangled and he cleared his throat as he started walking away. “I got it! Go be the chief of police and stop embarrassing me. Bye dad!”

He shut the door behind him and leaned his head against it. So much for being sneaky like a ninja.

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#Hopper almost starts crying when he calls him dad #He still threatens Eddie the next time he sees him for letting Steve sneak out #Whenever Steve spends the night at the Hopper-Byers he has to abide by the three inch rule #stranger things #steddie #fanfic #steve harrington #eddie munson #chief hopper #eleven hopper #will byers #joyce byers #jonathan byers

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sweetblinginrose · 14 days

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𝒑𝒉𝒐𝒕𝒐𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒐𝒕,

(Jonathan Byers x PlayboyModel fem!reader)

summary: Jonathan's first job in California is not what his friend promised, being a little more... dirty.

word count: 3,3k

warning: +18 small age difference (Jonathan is of legal age), nudes, porn magazine, embarrassing erection, blowjob, cum on face.

a/n: well, like, what can i say about this? obv, i wasn't inspired by anyone. it just popped into my head while thinking about another fanfic. ig it's like a headcanon that Jonathan used to work as a nude photographer or something. idk, just enjoy, ig lol ;p

━━ ✧♡✧ ━━ ✧♡✧ ━━ ✧♡✧ ━━

He was holding the letter with a mixture of hope and nervousness. The rough texture of the paper contrasted with the smoothness of his fingers, which caressed it almost unconsciously while his mind wandered between the possibilities that letter represented. It was more than just a piece of paper; it was the key to a future he longed for, a job in California that could change his life and that of his mother, Joyce, forever.

Money had always been a delicate subject at home. Joyce, with her job, managed to make ends meet, but always just barely. Jonathan wanted more than just survival; he wanted to live. That's why when Argyle, his long-haired friend with a scent of cheerful herbs, suggested that he apply to that photography agency, he didn't think twice. Argyle, who knew more about plants than people, had seen something in Jonathan, a creative spark that deserved to be explored and shared with the world.

The letter was from 'California Play-graphy', an agency unknown to the boy, with an incredible eagerness to know the answer it contained. Jonathan remembered Argyle's words: "Brother, your photos tell stories that words cannot. You have to show that to the world." And so, with a resume full of dreams and a letter that weighed more than gold, Jonathan found himself on the threshold of his future.

With a deep sigh, he broke the seal and unfolded the letter. The first words danced before his eyes: "Dear Jonathan, we are pleased to inform you...". A shout of joy escaped his lips, resonating in the small room, where Willy and Jane were also making a school project, and surely in the heart of Joyce, who eagerly awaited a package in the kitchen. Jonathan had landed a job, and with it, the promise of a fresh start.

The days leading up to Jonathan's first photo shoot at the agency passed slowly, each second filled with a mixture of anticipation and anxiety. As the appointed day approached, Jonathan's nerves intensified, and he found solace in the company of Argyle, his friend and mentor in the art of calm. Together, they sat on Argyle's old leather sofa, which creaked under their weight, sharing stories and laughter. In their hands, a joint, which they lit with the solemnity of a ritual. Smoke wafted in spirals, carrying away some of the tension Jonathan felt. Argyle, always the philosopher, told him, "Relax, brother. Photography is like this plant, you have to let it flow."

And so, with the background sound of Peter Tosh singing about freedom and struggle, Jonathan allowed himself to let go. The lyrics of "Legalize It" or "Equal Rights" filled the room, and for a moment, everything seemed possible. Argyle, with his street wisdom and heart of gold, reminded Jonathan that life was more than just worries and that every photo he would take would be a reflection of his soul.

When the day finally arrived, Jonathan rose with the dawn. The first rays of sun filtered through the window, bathing the room in a golden light that promised a new beginning. With his camera hanging from his shoulder and the rest of his equipment under his arm, and a nervous smile, he bid farewell to his brother and Jane. He stepped out, and there was Argyle, the one responsible for bringing him to the studios and bringing him back. They drove while Argyle smoked until they reached the giant buildings, causing the long-haired guy to take off his sunglasses and lazily look up with his red eyes, seeing a giant Playboy logo, but since he was so high, he didn't pay much attention.

When they finally arrived, Argyle got out and started looking around, completely taken by the desserts of half-naked women, giving Jon a friendly pat on the back and telling him, "Go and capture the magic, brother."

Jonathan entered the gigantic building, having to go through two checks by giant security guards, reaching his destination. The room Jonathan had found was the epitome of minimalist elegance. The walls, painted in immaculate white, reflected the artificial light emanating from the wide spotlights, creating a serene and almost ethereal atmosphere. There were no paintings or decorations; the beauty lay in the simplicity of the space.

In the center, an asymmetrical velvet sofa stood as the centerpiece of the room. Its modern and daring design invited contemplation as much as rest. The light gray velvet seemed to change with the light, adding depth and texture to the environment. Despite its luxurious appearance, the sofa promised comfort, with soft cushions that seemed to embrace the body. Next to it, on a low glass table, rested a transparent cube. Inside, a pile of bright red cherries, each one a little balloon of sweetness, awaited to be enjoyed. The simplicity of the cube contrasted with the richness of the cherries, creating an intriguing and tempting focal point.

To the right, a producer stood, his gaze fixed on you, the woman who would be Jonathan's model, quite beautiful. His posture was that of someone accustomed to making quick and precise decisions, and his presence commanded respect. By your side, you shone like a golden vision. Your long, flowing robe cascaded from your shoulders to the floor, the golden fabric capturing the light and making you sparkle with every movement. The elegance of your attire contrasted with the informality of the producer, but together, they formed a dynamic and complementary duo.

Jonathan knew that this room, with its atmosphere of calm and careful aesthetics, was the perfect place for his first photo shoot. Here, his art would come to life. Or so he thought.

The producer, with his refined air and delicate gestures, glided through the room with the grace of a dancer. His eyes lit up at the sight of Jonathan, and with a warm smile, he approached him. "Bonjour, mon cher Jonathan," he said with a French accent that enveloped each word like a hug. Their cheeks met in a traditional greeting, two gentle kisses, one on each cheek, that resonated with a resounding muah.

As he spoke, his hands floated in the air, drawing shapes that accompanied his words. "Your talent is magnifique, and we are très excited to work with you," he continued, mixing French with English in a way that seemed almost poetic. Jonathan, although surprised by the effusiveness of the greeting, couldn't help but feel a little uncomfortable.

The producer, with his silk shirt and matching pocket square, was the embodiment of Parisian elegance, even thousands of kilometers away from France. "We are going to create art today, do you understand?" he declared confidently, guiding Jonathan to the set while continuing to give instructions, his voice a melodic murmur that promised an unforgettable session. "This work should be a dream come true for a jeune homme hétéro like you, no?" he laughed as he pointed at what Jonathan had to do. With his watch marking the rhythm of a busy day, he apologized with hurried elegance. "My apologies, I have an urgent matter to attend to," he said in his charming mix of French and English. With a gesture of his hand and one last approving glance at Jonathan, he slid out of the set, leaving behind a trace of his distinctive perfume and the promise of returning soon.

Jonathan and you, a few years older than him, with your golden robe, were left alone, surrounded by the pristine whiteness of the room. The absence of the producer filled the space with expectant silence. You turned to Jonathan, your eyes shining with a mixture of surprise and complicity in the unexpected situation. "I guess it's just you and me now," you said, with a smile that exuded confidence and grace. Jonathan nodded, feeling the weight of responsibility settle on his shoulders. However, your calmness and imposing presence gave him strength.

"We are going to make this session memorable," declared Jonathan, adjusting his camera with steady hands. You nodded and took your position on the set, your golden robe reflecting the light as if woven with threads from the same sun.

Jonathan began the session, with a sense of normality, although he sensed that something was not right. Suddenly, you raised a hand, requesting a pause. "The session is without the robe," you said in a soft but firm voice, quite seductive. Jonathan stopped, a little surprised, but nodded in understanding, thinking that you would be wearing an outfit underneath. You gracefully slid out of the golden robe, revealing your fully exposed chest, as well as your entire torso, wearing only a transparent thread-like fabric that 'covered' your intimate area, if that can be called covering.

In the warmth of the light emanating from the spotlights, your bronzed skin and your generous breasts merged into an illuminated tone, with no trace of bikini lines to disrupt the harmony of your smooth and sinuous skin. Every curve of your body was carefully sculpted, leaving no room for imperfections. The absence of hair left your skin impeccable, highlighting its smoothness. Your generously sized breasts stood proudly, crowned by pink nipples that contrasted perfectly with the tone of your lips. Jonathan, captivated by the vision of this goddess in front of him, could barely tear his gaze away from your abdomen, slowly descending until it met the tiny thread-like thong that barely covered the essentials. Without showing any hint of discomfort, you approached Jonathan with overwhelming confidence, asking him if he was truly prepared for the photo shoot.

Without waiting for a response, you reclined on the sofa, unleashing a wave of anticipation in the photographer. Every movement you made was calculated, every pose was a game of seduction meant to ignite the viewer's imagination. Your breasts, as they moved gracefully, seemed to whisper secrets to the wind, tempting the camera to capture your provocative essence.

Jonathan's tent, unable to contain his growing excitement, began to rise, oblivious to his will. Desperately seeking a way to hide his agitation, he crouched slightly, justifying the gesture as an attempt to improve the angle of the shot. In that moment, amidst the visual ecstasy, he was lost, unsure of what to do to conceal his growing desire.

His choice, palpable against his thighs, was a blazing reminder of his desperate need. The absence of female companionship for so long had heightened his desire, leaving him in a state of almost uncontrollable excitement. Jonathan's labored breathing did not go unnoticed by you, your attentive gaze, who, concerned about his sudden distress, placed a soft and elegantly manicured hand on his shoulder. The slight brush of your hand against his skin sent waves of electric sensations through Jon, moistening his underwear slightly with the pre-cum escaping from the tip of his sensitive bulge. The slight friction against his underwear only intensified his ecstasy, plunging him into a state of overwhelming pleasure.

From your point of view, Jonathan seemed on the verge of fainting, a concern that soon became a reality as the boy lost consciousness due to overexcitement. Skillfully, you held him as best you could and placed him on the sofa, watching him with concern as you considered your options. The idea of seeking medical help crossed your mind, but before you could act, something caught your attention. As you stooped to pick up a fallen object, you inadvertently exposed your buttocks and inner thighs close to the photographer's face. A nervous cough escaped from the boy's lips as he pretended to be asleep, trying to hide his growing excitement. However, once again, his tent gave him away before your eyes, who now faced an uncomfortable and tense situation.

After the awkward moment, you chose to act as if nothing had happened, aware that these situations were quite common in your profession. You decided to give Jonathan a few minutes to calm down, although you noticed that this boy was different: shy, charming, and respectful, as he made no comments about your body, which you quite liked.

After some time, you returned to face the camera, but this time the session took an unexpected turn. You incorporated cherries into your poses, strategically placing them on your nipples, causing the pink juice to seductively slide down your skin. With sensual movements, you bit the cherries and slid them over your abdomen, even above your intimate area. For Jonathan, this was completely different from what he had imagined photographing, but at the same time, it was exciting and fascinating. You, without averting your gaze from the camera, began to lightly touch yourself with the cherries, asking Jonathan if the image looked good. Unable to articulate a coherent response, Jonathan simply nodded with a "uhu" between his slightly parted lips, completely absorbed in the tempting vision before him.

Jonathan's excitement drove him to want to explore further, so he proposed to you to strike more provocative poses he had seen in old magazines. You readily accepted, but it soon became clear that you did not understand Jonathan's instructions, leading you to ask for help. With some hesitation, Jonathan approached you and asked permission to touch you, eliciting a playful giggle from you. No one had been so considerate with you before. With delicate, long hands, Jonathan positioned himself between your thighs, gently parting them to leave you fully exposed. With his other arm, he tilted your torso slightly towards the sofa, causing your buttocks to inadvertently brush against his erection, which was now vigorous again. You made no comment, as you were not at all displeased with the size, on the contrary, you began to find it attractive, especially now that it was positioned this way for the photos.

Jonathan lamented with great embarrassment, moving away from you.

He was preparing to take the photo when you removed the scant fabric covering your intimacy, leaving it completely exposed in front of Jon, who felt all the tension in his body melt away. The intimacy shared in that moment created a special bond between you, a connection that went beyond the photo shoot.

Confused but intrigued by your proposal, Byers asked you what you were doing. With a mischievous look and a suggestive smile, you responded that you wanted to experiment even more and find out if Jonathan was really the best. This statement ignited a spark in Jonathan, who let the camera rest on his neck and approached you, his palpable excitement filling the air. "What do you mean?" he murmured.

Your response unleashed a wave of desire in Jonathan, whose breathing became faster and shallower at your passionate touch on his tight and erect jeans. His hips instinctively moved closer to you, eager for the intimate contact you offered.

Far from rejecting him, you responded to Jonathan's desire with equal passion, touching and kissing every inch of the fabric covering his manhood. However, a question lingered in your mind: Was Jonathan just another virgin?

Without wasting time, you began to caress Jonathan's thighs, ascending from his knees to underneath them, causing an overwhelming sensation in Jonathan, who was on the verge of exploding.

With deliberate slowness, you proceeded to unfasten Jonathan's worn-out belt, while licking your lips with anticipation and watching him from below, enjoying the expression of desperation on his face, craving more of your expertise.

Finally, Jonathan's pants fell to the ground, revealing boxers stained by the pre-cum escaping from his overflowing excitement. The feeling of constriction around his member was evident, so you didn't hesitate to lower them, freeing Jonathan's thick cock.

Jonathan couldn't believe it. He was going to be sucked by a girl with a scandalous body.

His cock was firm and throbbing, generously sized, and adorned with prominent veins that marked its vigor. The head was swollen and glossy, dripping with the essence of his uncontrollable desire. With each beat, it seemed to throb with a life of its own, eager to be caressed and adored by the goddess before it. Some spasms caused the cock to rise slightly.

With a lustful gaze, you leaned forward, bringing your face closer to Jonathan's thick cock. Your breath became irregular, anticipating the taste and texture of the throbbing member that was about to be explored. With deliberate movements, you wrapped your lips around the swollen tip of Jonathan's cock, savoring the prelude to his excitement. The sensation of warmth and moisture enveloped every inch of his member, sending waves of pleasure throughout his body.

With expert skill, you began to slide your tongue along Jonathan's long shaft, tracing tempting circles as you slowly descended towards the base. Each suction was a promise of ecstasy, each movement of your lips an invitation to deeper pleasure. Jonathan clung to the sofa, overwhelmed by the intensity of the sensations that engulfed him.

When Jonathan's cock disappeared completely into the warm cavern of your mouth, a guttural groan escaped from his lips, lost in the ecstasy of the moment. Your movements were expert and coordinated, alternating between gentle sucking and quick thrusts that made Jonathan quiver with pleasure.

Time seemed to stand still as you continued your work, bringing Jonathan to the edge of the abyss of pleasure. Each stroke of your tongue, each passionate suction, brought him closer and closer to the precipice of orgasm.

And then, just as Jonathan felt he could no longer hold back, you intensified your movements, bringing him to the most glorious climax. With a muffled cry, Jonathan surrendered to the wave of pleasure that overwhelmed him, releasing his load of ecstasy into your mouth, gripping your head tightly, restricting your movement. In that moment, he didn't think about Nancy or any other model, only about you.

With skill, you received every drop of his cum with devotion, allowing Jonathan's essence to slide over your tongue and fill your mouth with its intoxicating flavor. But when it seemed to be all done, Jonathan shot another stream onto your face, causing a mischievous smile from you, thinking that it would be the perfect moment to take a photo, finding yourself damn sexy.

And when Jonathan finally finished, you moved away slowly, allowing your gaze to meet his, your faces bathed in the And when Jonathan finally finished, you moved away slowly, allowing your gaze to meet his, your faces bathed in the shared ecstasy of a moment of unbridled passion.

"You've got a good cock, photographer," you whispered, giving him a spank, winking at him, and wiping your face with your golden robe, leaving it covered in traces of that hot liquid.

—> Plus.

"Brother, look at the cover of the new PlayBoy!" exclaimed Argyle, entering his van and throwing a magazine at Jonathan, surprising him. "I just stole it from the gas station attendant while he was peeing, so we should go now..."

On the cover, your lustful eyes stared directly at the camera, while the liquid rested on your face, causing a familiar sensation in Jonathan's pants.

"I should have asked for her number before I got kicked out for fucking the model," Jonathan thought, sighing and throwing the magazine back. The page opened to a photo taken by him, where he played with the cherries and they dripped on your nipples.

#jonathan #stranger things 3 #stranger things 4 #fanfic #byers #jonathan byers #joyce byers #smut #photoshoot #california #st #st4 #jonathan byers x you #jonathan byers x reader

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strangermarvelss · 1 year

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professor munson’s guide to passing the class- e.m (pt 3)

Pairing: Professor!Eddie Munson x Student!AFAB!Female!Reader

Summary: you learn more about your professor after an intense intimate session together

Warnings: SMUT 18+ MINORS DNI AT ALL (mentions of oral [f], p in v sex, dirty talk, some praise, choking, professor kink), some sappiness, eddie opening up, hint of romance in the air

Word Count: 3k

A/N: part 3 of my professor eddie series is here! i have a lot planned for this series so i hope you like it :) enjoy! -sava

The sound of skin slapping together fills the four walls of the tiny bedroom, with any witnesses passing by thinking they're walking past a porn set. You moan into the mattress you’re currently pressed into, jolts of pleasure cascading throughout your body as your professor pounds into you from behind at a feverish pace. His grunts fill your ear as he presses his chest to your back, increasing the speed of his thrusts that makes the bedsprings squeak more than they previously were.

You grip at the bedsheets beneath you, moans pouring out of your mouth at the feeling of his cock sliding in and out of your sensitive gummy walls, his hot breath against your neck and making you shiver. You nearly forgot how good it felt the night you brought him back to your apartment, thankful that you get to experience this euphoria once more.

“Fuck,” he moans, pulling your body up and fucking up into you. Your back as resting against his chest as you both sit up on your knees, gripping onto him for leverage. He brings one hand up and wraps it around your throat, applying minimal pressure, but enough for your senses to be heightened to a new and unknown level. You whine at the feeling, his thick cock pistoning in and out of your swollen cunt and making your whole body shake. “You feel like heaven sweetheart. Doing so fucking good for me, holy shit. Taking my cock so well.”

You throw your head back at his words, a sloppy smile creeping onto your face as you feel yourself becoming so cock drunk. What he said about becoming pure putty in his hands back at the bar was embarrassingly true. The minute he ripped your top from your body you were a goner, completely overtaken by lust and full blown desire. Those thick calloused hands had you undone in seconds.

Keeping one hand on your throat, his other hand travels down to grope at one of your breasts, massaging the lump and taking your sensitive nipple between two fingers and rolling the hardened nub. His hips buck into you as fucks his cock up into your dripping hole, lips planted to your ear as he switches between giving you little kisses and bites, and whispering filthy words or pleasure filled groans.

His hand on your breast travels further south, toying with your lips before circling around your engorged clit, making you yelp at the delicious friction. You shift a little and move your grip to his forearm for support, wanting nothing more than to double over and take it like you were nearly a minute ago as you start to become limp. “You fill me so good, holy shit. Your cock feels so good,” you moan out. You can already feel the coil inside you building up, the tingling feeling spreading throughout you further.

He smirks behind you, increasing his pace yet again and hitting you deeper, grazing the spongey spot inside you that quickly turns you into a screaming mess. You dig your nails into the forearm, biting your lip as soft grunts manage to escape, trying to be somewhat respectful towards his neighbors that have to endure their night being disturbed.

“You close sweetheart? You want to come all over my fat fucking cock?” He questions, his voice low and right on the shell of your ear.

You frantically nod, eyebrows twisted together as you try to look back at him, showing him how desperate you are to get off. He sees your big eyes pleading for the release you’re chasing, making him chuckle ever so slightly. He continues his motions, rubbing your clit at a constant pace as his balls continue to hit the curve of your ass. The coil inside you becomes tighter, your moans falling faster as you feel your release quickly coming.

“Say it for me then. Need to hear you say it sweetheart.”

“Please let me come professor. I’ll be so good just please let me come,” you beg, slightly embarrassed by how desperate you truly can become during intimate moments.

“Good girl. Go on and come for me baby. Soak my cock.”

You barely let him finish speaking when you feel the orgasm rush over you, white hot bliss taking over your body as you scream out in pure pleasure. Body shaking as your pussy pulsates around his thick dick, juices flowing as you find yourself tumbling forward and pressing your body into the sheets once again. Fucking you through your orgasm, you can feel his pace falter a bit, sensing his own release arriving shortly.

“M’ not gonna last much longer sweetheart. Where do you want me?” He groans out, pulling you up a bit by the hair as he waits for a response.

“Mouth,” is all you manage to let out. You flip over as fast as you can when he pulls himself from you, watching as he strokes his cock mere inches from your face. You take a moment to look at his blissed out face, his features scrunched together and mouth hanging open as he chases his release. It was a pretty sight, watch the pleasure sink further into his face as his bangs stick to his forehead, the sweat making his pale white skin glisten in the warm lamplight and his toned ring-clad hand working up and down his length.

Before you know it, white spurts begin shooting out of the tip, landing on your tongue as you taste the salty mixture on your tastebuds. A few drops miss your mouth completely, making you quickly shut your eyes to make sure they don’t make contact, all while moaning at the taste and feeling of his load on you. His moans are beautiful, deep and drawn out as he breathes heavily from the intense orgasm.

You hear the wet squelching sounds of his fist against his dick stop and footsteps retreating from your position on his bed, only to come back just a few moments later. You feel a wet rough cloth make contact with your face, wiping away at the cum sliding down your cheeks and the slope of your nose that began dribbling off your chin.

Opening your eyes, you’re greeted to see his face inches from yours, a sweet smile plastered on his face as he tosses the rag behind his figure. Flipping his hair back, he places his index finger under your chin while his thumb rubs centimeters from your bottom lip. He pulls you closer to him, pressing his lips to yours.

You reluctantly pull away after a while, feeling breathless and weak from the strenuous activities that have taken place. He notices, standing from the bed and helping you lay back against one of the plush pillows.

“Thank you Professor Munson,” you let out, a dopey smile resting on your face. He chuckles, shaking his head as he comes around the other side of the bed. The mattress dips as he lays next to you, resting his head against the arm he’s propped against his own pillow.

“You don’t have to call me that when we aren’t in class, you know.”

“Well, you seemed to like it just a few minutes ago,” you tease slightly, making him laugh more. “Plus, I don’t know your first name, so I can’t really help it.”

“It’s Eddie,” he reveals.

You take a moment to soak in the new information. His first name suited him perfectly, especially with the long hair and love of metal music. It reminded you of Eddie Van Halen, with the messy curls and the leather jacket he wore during your first encounter. Plus with his love of music, it all just made sense.

He motions for you to come closer, tapping his bare chest slightly. You scooch closer, laying you head on the open area. You bring a finger to rake over his stomach, trailing it up and down as your bare breasts press against his side and creating a sticky friction.

“So…Eddie…,” you start, taking a moment to look at the bedroom around you. “This is a nice place you have here.”

“Thanks. It’s definitely the nicest place I’ve lived in,” he replies.

“Have you always lived here in Indiana?” You ask, tilting your head up to look in his eyes.

“Yeah actually. I’m not sure if you’re familiar with the area, but there’s this town called Hawkins, and-“

“Wait wait wait, I know Hawkins! I have an aunt who lives there! I wonder if you know her,” you interrupt, leaning up a bit and scooting up closer to his face. He shoots you a questionable look, waiting for you to elaborate. You smirk, turning away from him as you continue your previous motions on tracing his stomach. “Her name is Joyce Byers.”

He pauses for a moment, leaning up on both elbows as he shoots you a wild expression. You smile at him as your eyes go wide as well, a puzzled expression resting on your face.

“There is no way Joyce Byers is your aunt,” he finally says. You laugh, throwing your head back as you sit up, crossing your legs and bringing the top sheet over your body.

“I am! She was married to my uncle before she was married to Lonnie and had Jonathan and Will. We know it sounds a bit weird, but she has always been so good to us, so we continue to go see her. My uncle is happy with his new wife anyway, so he doesn’t mind all that much. I love going to visit her during the holidays though. I was there about a month or so ago,” you explain.

“What a small world. Byer and I hang out some when I’m in town. A whole group of us try to get together when we visit for the holidays. Ya know, we were probably in Hawkins at the same time and didn’t even realize it,” he tells you.

“Well I actually had no idea you existed until the day before the semester started, so even if I did see you, I wouldn’t have known the difference,” you tease, sticking your tongue out. He grunts, flipping over onto his stomach and grabbing at you, making you yelp and giggle loudly.

He holds onto you, nearly pinning you down on the bed. The ends of his curls tickle you as he towers over you, swatting it away playfully before he dips his head down to take your lips in his again. You return the gesture, moving your lips against his and beginning to create a simple rhythm. You manage to slip a hand up his body and rest it against his cheek as you continue to make out, the tangy taste of your arousal lingering on his lips from when he went down on you moments after entering the apartment.

After several minutes, Eddie pulls away breathlessly, moving his bangs out of his face to get a better look at you. He places another kiss to your cheek before slinking over back to his side of the bed, letting out a huff as his head makes contact with the soft pillow. You prop an arm up against your pillow, resting your head in your hand as you look at him before turning to sit up on the bed, feet dangling off the side.

“You want to stay the night? I make some a mean waffle after a night of good sex. Of the Eggo variety, of course,” he tells you, making you giggle.

“I think my roommate might think I’m dead in a ditch somewhere if I’m not home when she gets there,” you answer, sliding your bra straps up your shoulders and clasping the back.

“Yeah, I guess you have a point there. But for the record,” he begins, leaning across the bed to tap your arm, making you turn back to look at him. “If we continue to do this, you can always stay over.”

You smile at his words, heat rushing to your cheeks briefly. “You want to continue to fuck me?”

“Uh…yeah? Look, I know it can be a bit risky, but it’s like you said at the bar. Nobody has to know. We come here, make sure no one is following us and make sure we’re not being suspicious in the public eye. And I really don't think I'm gonna be able to resist that sweet pussy of yours, so I think we can make it work until graduation comes around in May,” he suggests.

You laugh some more at the corniness of the last part of his suggesstion before taking a moment to process. You can’t help but become excited for the proposition. Eddie was amazing in bed, there was no denying that. The orgasms he has pulled from you have been some of the best you’ve ever had when it comes to sex with another person. Hell, even better than some of the orgasms you’ve had during masturbation. The grief he’s given you over the past couple weeks might’ve upset you, but that could be a thing of the past.

“Sure, why not? But you have to stop picking on me in class,” you tell him, narrowing your eyes a bit. He holds his hands up in surrender before nearly face planting into the mattress, making you stifle a laugh. “But, that also means that you can’t give me any special treatment. Like you said, no acting suspicious in public.”

“But picking on my students is how I treat everyone. If I don’t give you that energy, your peers might notice something,” he teases. You shake your head, rising from your position on the bed as you rummage around the room for the rest of your clothes. Piece by piece, you find the items and get dressed, until you see the shirt laying on the ground, torn down the seam. Holding it up, you make Eddie look at the damage.

“Guess I’ll be zipping my coat up all the way and trying not to freeze my tits off,” you say disapprovingly. Eddie hops up from the bed and walks over to you.

“Borrow one of my shirts. It’s the least I can do since I ruined this one,” he says, running towards his dresser. He pulls open the drawer, fishing around inside until he lands on an older Metallica shirt from their Master of Puppets tour, throwing the fabric your way. You examine the shirt for a moment before shooting him a look.

“Do I look like I’d be interested in Metallica?”

“The rest of my T-shirts are definitely not your style, if I’m going off of that ‘essay’ you wrote. Plus, you can just say my class is expanding your musical horizons,” he suggests. You shrug, throwing the shirt on and opening the bedroom door in search for your jacket. Eddie follows behind, picking up his own clothes and throwing them on as you venture towards the front door. “C’mon, let me drive you back to your apartment. S’ not like I haven’t been there before.”

—————————————————————————————————————

Closing the front door of your apartment, you sigh a breathe of relief when you’re met to the living room lights off and Nadia’s bedroom door wide open, the lights inside also shut off to show she is no where in sight. You creep over towards your bedroom and close the door, pressing your back against it as you relish in the rollercoaster of a night you’ve endured.

Being with Eddie tonight was just the steam you needed to blow off from the shit storm you’ve encountered. Sure, he may have been a big part of the stress, but being able to also be the stress reliever was a big plus on your part. Your new arrangement with Eddie excited you, giddiness overtaking you as you peel your jacket off and jump into bed.

Taking the fabric of his shirt between your fingers, you smile as you rid yourself of the rest of your clothes, curling up underneath your comforter and switching on your lamp resting on your nightstand and illuminating your bedroom. A sweet sigh passes through your parted lips, sinking further into the comfort of your plush pillows and silk sheets, feeling the heaviness of sleepy time slowly taking over your consciousness.

Your mind can’t help but think back to your time with Eddie tonight as you begin to drift to sleep. His hands in your hair as he fucked into you fast and hard, his grunts and filthy phrases replaying in your head, taking you back to the moment. The multiple orgasms he managed to pull from you, giving you the relief and high you’ve been needing all week.

But you also can’t help but think about the sweet side that he showed you today. Telling you to curl up next to him, feeling the warm of his sweaty body radiate onto yours, offering you his shirt and a ride. This sort of treatment wasn't something you were used to getting from guys. Just the way he would give you soft kisses with his velvety pink lips he would place against your cheek made your heart skip a beat. It may be the simplest gesture, but it swooned you none the less

Despite being completely annoyed by the cold attitude he’s been giving you over the past couple weeks, you were grateful to see that the cold demeanor was just a front. His genuine actions and soft words and expressions showed you that he wasn’t as mean and scary as he tried to let on, wanting to give off that perception for reasons that were unknown to you. Getting to know him would be an interesting journey, but you had to keep your mind sharp enough to remember the reason why you’re even in this town: to complete your degree and graduate.

As fun as this arrangement and getting to know Eddie would be, you needed to keep one promise to yourself: you will not fall in love with your professor.

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