synopsis: waking up in a prison cell wasn’t the interplanetary welcome you were expecting. this hero they’ve sent to question you is the most welcomed distraction though.
info: hey! this is heavily inspired by SUPERGIRL! if you haven’t seen it, it’s still easy to read. me and aali watched it and whilst the credits were rolling i told her this idea. different to what i usually write but i enjoyed :) this is probably going to be a one shot.
bakugou katsuki hates this part of his job. he finds it incredibly boring, uneventful and somewhat like those detective movies his mother watches in the evening. he’s not a detective or a police officer, he’s a pro hero built for the streets, fighting real villains. not in the foreign governmental holding cell with the purpose of asking questions, while the person in it has anti-quirk handcuffs on. so fucking boring. at least take the handcuffs off them, give him a real challenge.
bakugou barges into the cell, shoulder first into the iron heavy windowless door and the first thing he does is sigh. he crosses his arms across his chest and he flicks his eyes over the room. grey brick walls, square room, a metal toilet in the corner and a thin mattress on the floor. it’s the same as every other high risk room in this prison.
minus you, the woman he’s supposed to be talking to. bakugou frowns, a low unimpressed huh leaving his throat. he was told he’d be dealing with an alien here but from what he can see of you, hugging your arms to your chest on the floor, head resting on your knees… you look human. like him. two arms, two legs. he needs to check your face when you look up but otherwise, there’s nothing particularly alien-like about you and bakugou’s met many aliens before.
apparently you haven’t spoken to anyone in three days. police have tried, detectives and doctors. they decided he’d be the next step in case you end up being violent.
“fuck, how does it go?” he mutters to himself, shutting the squeaking door behind him. “hate this shit.”
you don’t move at the sound of his voice but your handcuffs glow green around your wrists. you’re in the same orange jumpsuits as everyone else in this building. bakugou’s a fan of the colour.
“my name is dynamight, i’m a hero here on earth. i’ve gotta ask you a couple questions ‘cause protocol and shit. we dunno who you are, why you’re here or what you can do. the quicker we get this done, the quicker we both can go home.”
it’s the mention of home that gets your attention. you lift your head up off your legs and you turn to face the man who’s taking up more space than necessary in your cell.
as bakugou gasps, you snigger.
what the hell is this guy wearing? those wings by his head? are the height of those boots to compensate for something else?
you’re definitely human looking. two sparkly eyes, a nose in the centre of your face. nobody told him the alien was beautiful. fucking stunning.
he wants to go home now, he’s not prepared to be speaking to a woman like you after a ten hour shift. fuck, he doesn’t think he ever would be.
bakugou clears his throat. he stands up straight and tightens his arms across his chest.
“you’re very… fuck, anyway,” he’s so goddamn embarrassing.
you start laughing, these light buttery giggles that feel like they’re breathing air into bakugou’s lungs. your eyes brighten, you even lean back on the wall like you’re taking a better look at him. he feels your eyes travel from his boots to the top of his head.
thank god this man has a pretty face, or at least he would if he stopped frowning because this outfit he’s wearing looks stupid. does anyone else on this planet dress like this?
you’re laughing… and it feels like it’s at him instead of with him. he knows he didn’t say anything funny.
“do you not know english? they always say i need to speak english for this shit.” he grunts, scratching his head.
damn, he’s finding it hard to even look at you directly. the orange compliments you, makes your skin glow, makes you— stay focused.
“i doubt you’re gonna know any japanese. d’you understand me now?” he tries and he sees the frown on your face. confusion.
“ah, so you understand english. you just don’t want to talk to me.” he punctuates by jabbing his thumb into his chest and then leaning on the wall behind him.
you roll your eyes, which only gets bakugou grinning, then he calms down. he doesn’t need to be reacting like he won the lottery over a reaction from you.
“what’s your name?”
nothing. you blankly stare at his face.
“why are you here?”
nothing.
“c’mon just say somethin’ so i have somethin’ to say to them outside. then you get to go back home.”
you swallow, resting your head in your palm.
“this is an odd planet. a traveller lands and you immediately arrest them, deprive them of sunlight and dignity,” you nod your head towards the toilet in the corner of the room, “treating me like a criminal.”
you’ve got an accent. one he can’t place from anywhere specific on earth. it sounds almost melodic, easy to understand and very clear.
“so the alien talks,” dynamight, you think he introduced himself as earlier, says amused, “you fell from the sky, at a speed none of us has seen before. it was so fast, not even our meteorologists caught it. then you came out of this metal-like sphere that isn’t quite metal, they’re still workin’ that out, in a coma. not to mention you set alight the fields you landed in, causing a wildfire through acres and acres of land.”
bakugou squints at you, “you can see why we’d have a fuck load of questions, right?”
you look away from him. fuck. you were told the earth on this planet would have been able to handle your ship, not that you’d start a wildfire.
“i didn’t… i didn’t hurt anyone, did i?”
bakugou’s quick to shake his head, “no, the farmer ushered out all the animals in time. though you did destroy a families hundred year old strawberry farm.”
“shit.” you mutter, in your language. then in english, “i’ll help them as soon as i’m out of here.”
there’s a hero complex to you somewhere. hm. “and to get out of here, answer my questions. yeah?”
you sigh, “what do you want dynamo?”
bakugou’s face scrunches like a ball of paper, “dynamight. my name is dynamight.”
“is it actually? earth names didn’t sound like that when i researched.”
“it’s my fuckin’ hero name, i said that in my introduction at the beginnin’— you know what, never mind. call me dynamight. nothin’ else.”
you blink at him.
“what’s your name?” he tries.
he really wants to know your name. not for the sake of government purposes, just for himself.
“that’s personal, isn’t it?” you laugh but dynamight raises his eyebrows.
“not at all actually,” he breathes, equally restless and intrigued, “quick or we’ll be here all goddamn day.”
“you swear a lot, don’t you? is that normal?”
that catches bakugou off guard, he leans off the wall. “hah? you’re not askin’ me questions, woman. i’m doin’ the askin’.”
you chuckle, loud and sweet. “okay, okay! my name is yn.”
“yn,” he likes the sound of it on his lips, though it’s even better from yours, “yn where are you from?”
“why are you dressed like that?”
bakugou looks down at himself. he’s always been voted highly for best dressed hero. his black body suit, black and orange chunky boots. he’s got his wings at his shoulders. he doesn’t have his gauntlets on though, he doesn’t need them for this.
“this is my hero suit. how many times do i have to tell you, i’m a professional hero—.”
“hero,” you try, “is that your version of a protector? looking after civilians? the strongest of the people?”
bakugou can’t help but let his grin slip. he likes the sound of that. it’s all true. “y-yeah i am. currently third on the charts but i jump between one and two, so technically i’m the best in the country.”
you do an upside down smile, somewhat impressed. so this man is one of the strongest and cocky about it. his grin is cute too. his lips stretch wider, only one corner rising. a gold tooth shining. okay, his smirk is sexy.
“family must be proud.”
“they expected it,” he shrugs. wow, is it easy to get off topic with you. “any quirks?”
“quirks?”
“abilities different to the average.”
you scrunch your nose, “not that i know of.”
bakugou doesn’t know if he can trust you. “so if i took those handcuffs off you, nothing about you would change?”
honestly no. your body feels fine. mentally, not so much.
you snap the handcuffs apart, the middle chain breaking with ease, now appearing as two ugly grey bracelets on your wrists as the green glow slowly dies down. bakugou jumps at the sound, jaw dropping on command.
“what the fuck?” bakugou can’t even get out of those. he’s tried before in hero training. what are you? “why the hell didn't you get out of them before?”
“i…”
you’ve never experienced grief before and to experience it on the scale you are now... your parents, your family, your people, your home. all gone. you don’t think you wanted to break out of it yet.
“had other things on my mind,” you offer, looking up at this dynamight man. “what’s your… quirk?”
something about him is comforting. with those boots on, he’s as big as the men back home. just as wide too.
so to get information out of you, he has to give a little back. that’s okay for now.
“i sweat nitroglycerin. can create explosions from my hands,” he gives you a little show, facing his palms up to the ceiling and creating little sparks.
that gets you facing him, now cross legged on the floor. you sound like a child, brimming with curiosity. you don’t recognise the word nitroglycerin but you can assume. “how big can you make them?”
bakugou chuckles to himself, slowly sinking to sit down too. “question for question then. so it’s my turn now.”
you huff, “fine.”
have you showered in these three days? you look as if you have. a beautiful glow like those women in skincare adverts he sees.
“how old are you?” not the most important question, but he’s got to know. they couldn’t have gotten a more selfish hero to question you.
“fifty moon shines,” you say without a beat. “how old are you? wait, let me see your explosions!”
“woah, woah, hold on. fifty?” you either look good for your age or—, “how are years measured where you’re from?”
“182 days. isn’t it my turn to ask a question?”
“how long are your days?”
“twenty three hours.”
bakugou relaxes. you’re the same age as him.
“so you’re twenty five.”
“i just said i’m fifty.”
“to me that’s like you’re sayin’ you're a hundred in your time. you’re twenty five in this world, darlin’.”
“darling? what’s that?”
bakugou shakes his head. shouldn’t have said that. “nothin’. i’m twenty six.”
that pleases you for some reason. you both stare at each other for a few seconds, sizing the other up. you could take him in a fight you think. in bed too, if it came down to it.
“how big can you make your sweat explosions?”
bakugou winces. what an ugly name. “they’re not sweat explosions.” “but you said—,” “the size of buildings. could blow this whole building up. can also fly, use them as grenades, blind opponents, shoot them like a gun.”
he’s sharing too much now. you shouldn’t be telling your enemies your main attacks. it’s going to be a beautiful woman to take him down. that tarot reader kaminari took him to was right.
“that’s really cool, dynamight. i can’t do that.”
you sound honest, real. bakugou bends his knees and rests his arms on top. “it’s whatever. what can you do?”
you shrug, looking at your bare hands. there’s some dirt under your nails and they’re all chipped from your lack of basic essentials. “where i’m from, everyone is the same so i don’t know how different i am to you guys.”
bakugou gets that, “what’s the most you can lift—,”
“my turn now, hero. why’re you so pissy?” you ask, tilting your head at him.
bakugou can’t help the loud, “hah?” he sits up at that comment, hands flat on the floor.
“you came in here moaning. you swear in every sentence. you act like the world has done you wrong. what happened with you?”
there’s a part of you that wants to find solidarity in this man. that perhaps he understands the pain you’re going through deep within your soul. after waking up from your coma three days ago, you feel sure the grief is going to eat you alive. you don’t want to hate the world, become evil and angry. you also don’t know how to not.
you get this blonde man blinking at you. a silence takes up the room quickly but you give him all the space in the world to speak.
“what d’you mean what happened to me? you think i have a sad tragic backstory like those american game show contestants?”
now you’re frowning back at him. you don’t understand that reference. “don’t you? or you’re just pissy for no reason?”
it feels like a weird competition now, that he should have something under his belt. something odd and sadistic to impress you with. bakugou bites.
“i died when i was sixteen. i fought a war and died.”
you’re not impressed. “how are you here now? i didn’t know this world has magic—,”
bakugou shakes his head, “nah not magic. another… another hero here fixed me up. brought me back.”
“oh,” you trail off, “and you’re fine now?”
he is. though it seems as if you’re looking for more. he deals with villain attacks often. fights them with his friends. he hasn’t been close to death since. he lives a wealthy luxury lifestyle now he’s professional and he’s got all his friends around him. all his greatest traumas he’s working through in therapy. yes, he goes therapy.
you keep talking, “you’ve got both your parents? all your friends?”
“y-yeah i do? i answered your question, didn’t i?” he spits.
you roll your lips in.
“are you… are you laughin’ at me again?”
at that your dam breaks, giggles spilling out. your shoulders shake and your hand covers your mouth in an attempt to be polite. though you lost that once you had to use the toilet beside your bed being recorded by security.
j“no, well yes! i don’t know, i thought you had a tragic backstory to explain your shitty attitude. guess it’s just you.”
bakugou’s walls go straight up. he doesn’t know who the hell you think you are to read him so easily. because yeah, maybe he is just a dick. but he owns it. he’s apologised for his mistakes in the past. he doesn’t hold all his worth to his quirk anymore and he doesn’t blame himself for anyone’s death. he’s actually quite well adjusted now.
“okay, so the fuck is your problem? why’re you on earth? where’s home? where’s your family? they just send you here and can’t be bothered to get you outta ‘earth jail’?” he snaps.
that slows your laughter down, your grin is the last thing to drop before pain shakes your heart. it’s a harsh squeeze that doesn’t let up.
“you’re not getting all of that out of me in one day. see you tomorrow, dynamight.” you’ve got nobody to come get you.
bakugou hates how he likes the sound of that. another day, a reason to see you again. he’s got a whole load of questions to ask you but he’s got to get back to his other tasks for the day.
“fine, if that’s what you want.” he begins to rise to his feet. he’s too petty to be somewhat nice. “y’know if you cooperate we can send you home.”
you look up at bakugou, hugging your knees to your chest on the hard concrete floor. “i don’t have a home anymore.”
bakugou stands still, mouth open to speak but nothing right is about to come out. until there’s a rough knock on the door, one of the jail guards.
“you okay, dynamight? times up unless you need more?”
bakugou doesn’t take his eyes off you, now back to your original position with your forehead on your knees. he won’t be surprised if you move to fetal position once he’s gone.
“i’ll be back tomorrow, yn.”
you don’t bother replying to him but you hear his thick boots walk out.
as soon as bakugou steps out the door, the guard pipes up.
“we saw she was speaking to you on cams! the alien’s gorgeous, isn’t she? doesn’t look like no damn alien either. what was she saying?”
the first thing bakugou does is shove the man away. “down my fuckin’ neck. i’m not sayin’ shit to you. who runs this place?”
in about an hour, you’re pulled out of your cell to a new room. one with a bedframe for your mattress, a pencil and a pad of paper. most especially, the toilet is in a separate room to your cell. you’re especially grateful when they remove your handcuff bracelets and don’t lock new ones on.
there’s no chance you’re going to thank dynamight for giving you your basic rights. you appreciate the changes to your new home though.
part two comments will be deleted. comments and reblogs are appreciated!
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note: chapter came earlier than expected! not proofread
✦ ✦ ✦
"so tell us minne pie, did [Name]...ya' know...have an actual boyfriend n' stuff?" kirishima whispered though there was no reason too.
he, bakugo and mina were all seated quietly in their room, mina stripped of her faux party clothes and stretched across kirishimas bed.
"look ei, i already said she didn't and that im not gonna tell you anything she hasn't told you herself. you can't tempt me to break girl code just because you miss her."
this made kirishima pout, beefy arms crossing over his chest in disappointment, "well than what am i supposed to do! she obviously doesn't trust us anymore, not after whatever happened to her...whatever it was."
bakugo pokes his side, annoyed. "and what makes you think it's our fault, or responsibility to fix it?"
mina interrupts them both, "first of all, yn is perfectly capable of answering all these questions you have herself. secondly if we're really speaking about trust here, isnt it better to be open and transparent instead of going behind someones back and trying to pry secrets out of them that way?"
kirishima cringed in shame, mina was completely right and yet his pride wouldn't let him back down.
"and bakugo stop acting like you don't care enough about the girl to show up for her and at least wonder." she continued, very annoyed that this is what the men had called her over for. it was a complete waste of time.
"im just saying its not our fault she lost trust in us, she told us herself none of this had anything to do with us. " bakugo snapped, matching eijrous arms.
mina sprang up from the bed, "ugh, you're missing the point! god, im done here, if you want real answers, try to be a real friend and ask her yourself." kirishima didn't stop the woman from leaving and sat in silence with the other man.
bakugos forehead was a slightly tinted red, he was mad, or at the very least annoyed at what just happened. "minas right, babe. i mean, we don't even know what boy troubles mean for her. what if was a crazy ex? or a metaphor for a shit friend or father who knows? there are thousands of possibilities that we don't necessarily have a right to know."
bakugo sighed deeply and looked at the redhead. "but...?"
"but..shes still our friend, and friends take care of each other, just like you and me!"
bakugo scowled, "oh because that's what we are huh? friends?"
kirishima frowned, "what? no kat, you know i didn't mean it like that..."
bakugos heart twinged, he knew he hadn't but hed said it on purpose to rile himself up. uncomfortable with the idea of kirishima caring for you that way, plausible or not.
"did i? because ever since [Name] came back you've been awful keen on trying to "help" and "fix" whatever the fuck happened to her. "
"katsuki.."kirishima trailed.
"no don't katsuki me, its true! you've been babying the girl and she isn't even here!"
"are you horny?" kirishima stares, half lidded eyes trailing up his chest.
"—and–I—what?" katsuki flinches, taken aback. "what the fuck kinda question is that?"
"are you? it's a simple yes or no."
"genuinely what does that have to do with what were talking about." bakugo deadpans and fights the heat crawling up his chest and in between his legs.
"i know we haven't done anything in a while...you know how busy it's been with school and sports and now [Name] who we just got back finally!—"
"see and there you go again! im sure shes fuckin fine, you're worrying isn't going to make her get closer sooner-"
"so you admit you want her closer?" kirishima is full on grinning now. warm, ridiculously large palms engulfing bakugos thighs.
"thats not what i said—!"
kirishima cuts him off by kissing him, tongue slipping between his lips and on the roof of his mouth.
bakugo melts like putty, holding onto the man in a heated embrace.
they both pull away, a string of saliva connecting their lips, "you're right babe, i'm too worried about her, right now, i think we should focus on you hm?"
bakugo, beet red and bothered couldnt have agreeded more.
✦ ✦
thankfully you make it back home in one piece, surprisingly mina was home already. something about the party getting cancelled and men and their decision making.
you on the other hand felt wonderfully relieved, sero had immediately been happy you were back, denki too, kirishima was simply relieved to hear from you and bakugo wasn't nearly as mad as you'd thought he'd be. especially considering how adamant you were on avoiding him.
things were finally looking up.
your phone buzzed, pulling your attention out of your mind.
it was from the group chat.
han-ture 🥸 okay! since were all back to our regular scheduled program, how bout we meet up at the usual spot a week from tomorrow and finally hang out again! i have the supplements of course just show up 🙂↕️ 7-8pm maybe? 🤔
narination (DNI) ouuu yes pleaseeee, ive been dyinggg to get high again 😵
han-ture 🥸 dude we literally smoked today...
narination (DNI) babe, we all know thats not the same...
katsuki Sure I'm down.
ejiro pipskweaka 🥹 YOU'RE DOWN!????!!
katsuki yeah
katsuki dont make me change my fucking mind
narination (DNI) damn usually we have to beg him to even show up, and thats only if kiri even decides to go...
ejiro pipskweaka 🥹 well, this time were ALL going...
ejiro pipskweaka 🥹 right [Name]...?
you paused for a moment, taking a deep breath to think of a response. this wasnt even hard and yet your hands were shaking. when had you become so awkward with them?
you'd never changed their contact names. it really hadnt even been that long really and yet you still felt uncomfortable. like this was new, and it kinda of was. the last time you'd hung out with them you cried, you werent even sure if you wanted to brave the humiliation again.
if there was one thing clear you'd learned about last time was that bakugo was NOT interested in you, at least not in that way.
and clearly the boys had been busy whilst you were gone, you still followed their social media, kirishima had just won a tournament for the rugby team, sero was probably going to be the next elvis presley at the rate he was playing. katsuki scored perfectly on nearly all his exams and kaminari was quite literally 100 followers away from hitting 13k on his streaming channel.
there'd be so much to talk about, so much to catch up on, you didn't want to spoil the mood again especially with boring shit that had happened in your past few months which mostly consisted of you avoiding them and feeling sorry for yourself.
but this was your only chance, your only option in getting them back, you had to take it no matter what.
right, ill be there! :you
ejiro pipskweaka 🥹 YOOOO LETS GOOO
narination (DNI) FUCKING SCOREEEE
han-ture🥸 cool! well see you there.
you chuckled then smiled softly at the responses, youd be lying if you said the enthusiastism didn't make you feel better about the whole thing.
bakugo noticeably didnt respond. but you hoped the group setting would get him to feel comfortable around you, like before. or maybe not like before, considering all that had happened anyways.
either way you were ready, no matter what happened. or at least you hoped you were.
✦ ✦
you found midoriya bright and early the next morning, waiting for you at the door. you greeted each other breifly before moving into the classroom where your professor was standing.
"alright now, class, presentations start in 2 minutes, take some time to go over final touches, we'll begin at 8:15."
you and izuku did a quick one over of the slides and began quickly. fortunately the man could talk for days and fill in when needed so your part only took up about 40% of the presentation, which you expected.
you high-fived after you were done, that was one thing off your shoulders and one less thing to worry about.
the relief was short lived however. cali blonde hair permeated your eyesight as you walked towards the door, izuku in quick steps behind you.
"deku." bakugo nodded at him as he walked by.
"kacchan." izuku waved, glancing at you with the sort of expression that made you think this entire interaction was sure to go poorly.
"uhm–" you tried to start.
"im–" he paused, waiting for you to finish.
you cleared your throat. "no you go ahead."
bakugo sniffed, glancing at your figure. "oh no don't start that awkward shit. just ask what the fuck you want to ask."
"i uhm—what are you doing here? i thought we weren't meeting until friday?" you peeped, face warm.
bakugo had that sort of effect on you, the kind that made you sweaty under your arms and legs wobbly. you felt clumsy under his gaze.
"what, now you're only exclusive to a group chat?" bakugo sounded offended with every word he uttered. weather the offense was true or not you couldn't tell. though you never could with him.
"no I just-Im' surprised that's all."
bakugo hummed. "didn't know you and deku were friends."
"oh, yeah? we share a few classes together i guess. same major n all, education and stuff." you trailed off pathetically.
the both of you said nothing after that, the silence palpable. bakugo made no move to relieve you of the tension.
you shifted, avoiding eye contact with the man. seriously what the fuck was he doing here? his initiative to search for you couldn't have been for no reason, right? you weren't sure you wanted to find out.
"well, i have a class, so ill see you around." you couldn't even make it past his shoulders before he grasped your wrist.
"fuck-wait, I uhm. you should come with me and the guys, tomorrow. there's this party at some frat house—anyway, be there."
it was strange to see the man fumble with his words so uncomfortably. you ignored where the discomfort could have came from and instead his words.
it had you wondering...
"why didn't you just text me? was there some special reason you needed to see me?"
bakugo scowled at you, "christ [Name] does there need to be a special reason to talk to you or something, it's not that fuckin' deep."
ouch. ok. he was right, and there was truly nothing offensive about the words, but it still hurt for some reason. coming from him especially.
bakugo seemed to notice your expression and quickly tried to backtrack but you stopped him.
you didn't need to make it a thing, it was just a party, it was just bakugo.
"okay i'll be there, but i'll pass on the walk though, thanks." you couldn't even imagine what it would be like to actually walk the 10 minutes it took just to get to your next class with him.
plus you didn't trust yourself not to overthink and internally sob over the fact he'd said "it's not that deep." like he was saying everything you did was made more serious than it needed to be. which to be fair wasprobably true.
bakugo didn't fight yog to stay and you strided away to class.
god you seriously to find easier people to crush on.
suddenly a flash of red came to mind. fuck why did your brain do that all the time? everytime bakugo seemed to reject you, you liked to delude yourself with the idea of kirishima. kirishima and his soft sweet smile. kirishima and his arms of steel. kirishima and —fuck!
"[Name], will you please just shut the fuck up?" you growled to yourself, slapping two hands on your cheeks.
"what'd you just call me?" a voice sounded in your ear, causing a sharp turn of your head to find purple streaked eyes staring at you.
"huh? oh no I wasn't—I was talking to myself–that wasn't—"
the man in question grinned and cut you off. "m' teasing pretty. you're [Name] right?"
you blinked, choosing to ignore the petname in favor of your dignity and instead answer him cautiously.
"yes that's me, why?"
"i'm shinsou, we share english together."
you flushed at his words, embarrassed at your own defensiveness. "oh..sorry i guess i never caught your name..shinsou."
the man only grinned harder, a sly sort of smile etched on his face.
"thats ok, m' not very loud about myself anyway."
you nodded at that, clearing your throat. "got it..well..uhm shinsou, what can i help you with?"
shinsou paused for a moment before rembering why he'd gotten the courage to go up to you in the first place. "right well, i think you're pretty. and i promise i won't disappoint you if you let me take you out on a date sometime."
your heart jerked awake that was not what you were expecting in the slightest. though you weren't exactly opposed to it.
you would be lying if you said you didn't find shinsou attractive, he sort of reminded you of sero. they both had that same easy going sneaky sort of vibe that hypnotized you.
but even still this was a bit out of the blue considering you'd never even seen the man before today.
shinsou filled the silence for you both. "it's no pressure, theres this party tomorrow though, i'm sure you've heard—if you want I could catch your number and pick you up? leave early if its lame?"
maybe it's because you were still a little heartbroken still.
maybe it's because you were slightly excited at his insinuations
or maybe it's because this whole ordeal with your friends felt like one big joke, like the most effective solution to getting over a man, was simply getting under another one.
you took his phone into your hands.
✦ ✦
bakugo had fucked up, he knew he had the moment you declined his offer to walk with him and now he was facing the consequences for it.
" you WHAT!?" sero blanched, unable to believe what he was hearing.
"i mean—i didn't mean it exactly like that, i just meant she didn't need to act so fucking awkward around me, like we don't know each other or somethin'."
sero pinched the bridge of his nose on the other side of the phone, he knew his friend was bad at communicating, just not THIS bad.
"good fucking grief, remind me to never send you on a trip to soothe somebody again. hey kam! kami come here, let me tell you what this asshole katsuki did!" sero yelled, putting the phone down so it was facing the ceiling.
"what the fuck? how was i supposed to know it was a mission to soothe? all you told me was to ask her if she wanted to come, and she said yes anyways so what's the big fucking deal." bakugo sneered.
but kaminari was already in the room listening to the brunette moan about his supposed failures.
oh hell no, two could play that game.
"kirishima get your ass over here!" he yelled, prompting sero to pause his rather dramatic retelling of what happened and pick the phone back up.
"dude could you stop being a dick for like 2 fucking seconds please, of course you called mom, pussy!" sero glowered.
now it was a full blown disaster, as usual, both of them refusing to back down unltill kirishima and denki were pretty much threatening them into silence.
"jesus christ, you'd think you would have fucked each other by now the way you two argue." kaminari breathed.
bakugo spoke up again, "okay shit for brains please don't start with that shit again—"
"whaaaaaattt, i'm just sayingg–" kaminari smiled into the camera, a little too gleefully.
"alright well you've said enough, i'm done here. if you have an update text me." bakugo hung up the phone before the men could say anything more.
denki was always like that, flirty, sly, faux innocence that made his gut churn with guilt. he got it from his boyfriend he suspected, though katsuki wasnt entirely sure they were dating. eitherway his little comments and touches were infuriating.
despite the his best efforts to keep his—whatever it was—at bay, the man made it increasingly difficult to do so. the memory of denki at a different party, back in highschool, burned in his mind.
that's why they needed you back. you made it easier to be around him, it gave bakugo something to focus on. you, were very easy to focus on.
bakugo sighed, leaning back against the couch. kirishima slipped under his arms, "did you really say that to her? that it wasn't that serious?" his voice was gentle when he said it.
bakugo looked down at the mans red perfect eyes, and only felt worse.
"yeah. but it's not like i meant it like that." his voice was gruff when he said it, thumbs red frok being knawed on so much.
kirishima, eversweet took his palms into his hands. "i know, so why'd you say it?"
katuski couldnt look him in the eyes. "i just—i don't know how to talk to her anymore, i mean if were being honest, she clearly hates me or something. or hated, at least, i don't fucking know."
kirishima eyes shot wide,"what makes you say that?"
the blonde almost didn't answer. "it's just–it's stupid."
kirishima frowned, a scolding expression on his face. "katsuki."
"what." he mumbled, eyes cast away.
kirishima took that a que to scoop up his face into his palms and force him to look at him. "katsuki." he said again
they'd had conversations like this before. ones that involved only open and honest answers that bakugo constantly struggled to give.
but bakugo knew him. loved him. no weird hormonal feelings could change that.
"when she was, gone or whatever." he cleared his throat.
kirishima nodded, a satisfied look on his face.
"when i tried to look for her, it was like i killed her or something. she would avoid me in places i didnt even realize i saw her at."
kirishima cocked his head, and action that would have been cute if not for the situation. "yeah but...she did that to everyone."
bakugo huffed, "yeah but like, it was like different. like this one time, i found her in the library and she fucking flinched when she saw me. like i was about to hurt her or somethin'."
the words felt like needles on his tounge, periced with none of the safety equipment needed to ensure the least amount of pain.
kirishima said nothing for the moment, panic flaring in bakugos chest. "eijiro– i"
"you don't need to explain yourself. i know, you would never so something like that. it just...is shocking thats all. it makes me wonder.."
"wonder what?" he tried not to sound alarmed but he knew the red could hear it in the shakyness of his voice.
"if you, were the reason..." kirishima trailed off, seeming more and more sure of whatever idea was conjuring up in his mind.
"reason for what? that she ghosted us and decided she didn't care about her friends anymore? yeah i just said that–"
"no you idiot, a different reason. think about what [Name] said.."boy troubles"? i mean come on, what else could that be?" kirishimas looked relieved, a complete opposite to how bakugo felt.
"i don't fucking know, that she had a crush on someone and it didn't work out?" bakugo said it out of stupidity. the idea wasnt even feasible.
"exactly!" kirishima exclaimed brightly.
"so w-what are you getting at. that—that it was me? ejiro you must be joking.."
the redhead had never looked more serious.
"oh im serious alright. and i know it's true, ill prove it to you."
✦ ✦ ✦
main masterlist :: series masterlist :: prev / next
↬ synopsis :: your a freshman in college when you meet this amazing group of friends, you've only known them for a semester and you're sure you'd jump in front of a train for all of them. except, they'd never do the same for you. that's what you tell yourself anyway.
↬ tw: angstt, slowburn, reader has low self esteem & insecurities about her value/purpose as a person, bakugo is kinda a blunt asshole, polybakusquad x reader, (mina not romantically included for this one srry 😔) highly suggestive, implied sex—no smut, lowercase on purpose, incorrect portrayal of collage housing, courses, lifestyle etc. underage ingestine of weed/alcohol, happy ending, plot improv, slow updates
i :: ﴾ paranoia ﴿
➘ you smoke too much with your friends.
ii :: ﴾ avoid at all costs ﴿
➘ ignoring 4 people is alot harder than you expected.
iii: ﴾ getting over it ﴿
➘ apparently you find yourself immune to feelings. or not.
iv: ﴾ out of the loop ﴿
➘ the boys were busy while you were gone.
v: ﴾ hey party people ﴿
➘ social gatherings aren't your strong suit, clearly.
vi: ﴾ ﴿
➘ tbc
⌗ ... short series! have fun. ( crossposted on ao3 )
a few people asked, just to be clear, i don't do taglists of anyform, please stalk for updates! happy reading! 🫶🏾
you’d never cared for the concept of soulmates, their undisputed existence and fate’s capabilities in shifting one’s entire life around the presence and affections of another.
you thought it was ridiculous, even from a young age. growing up with the teaching that there is a person who is destined to be yours, born just to exist alongside you, meant for a future full of love and beautiful memories.
you stopped believing in the goodness of the world early on.
the cracked stone walls you were confined in, the chains that circled your limbs, the bland and unfulfilling meals that spilt on the floor because the guards were too cruel to hand it to you properly. you were a subject of testing, a means of scientific exploration and an inhumane method of advancement.
swirls of magic—pale, transparent, sparkly—that smoothed over your knuckles and caressed your fingers were the result.
now, you were here.
free, salvation in the form of bloodied independence as a shield, and the desire to see if life was more than four walls, restraints, and iron bars.
to your disappointment, very little in the world impressed you, the wonders of life doing little to pique your curiosity.
but the gall and stupidity of fate? that deeply impressed you.
the crowd was whispering, mostly. the tiny conversations, many of which you could hear with a tilt of your head. a woman contemplating divorce with her husband, a hushed explanation that she had met her soulmate while being unfaithful. a man smiling broadly as he recounted his experience with his soulmate, a kind man who respectfully asked for him number. the young girl who was gushing about being able to see the fantastic four in real life—
you frowned.
oh, right. that’s why you were here. here in a public space, dressed in your favorite black ensemble. the show was cram packed with fans, admirers, and haters alike, all assembled to witness the astronomical anomalies that are the fantastic four.
you were here for advice.
advice you were too stubborn to admit needing, but not foolish enough to go without. so, you elected to purchase a ticket and see if the trip has been worthwhile.
you sincerely doubt it.
but, if the esteemed reed richards commented on the bizarreness of suddenly being a human shaped by cosmic force and becoming a household name, it would be worth it.
the lights dimmed, and the whispers bled into silence. you sat in the very back corner, having purchased the seat next to you so that nobody could sit next to you. cheers erupted as the host invited the family in.
benjamin grimm, the thing. a cruel name, in your earnest opinion. it depicted him as some sort of monster, a name that was slapped on something nobody could be bothered to understand.
reed richards, mr. fantastic. it suited him, you’d long decided. his capabilities were remarkable, and as he was the leader of the team, it seemed appropriate.
susan richards, invisible woman. you, never one to admit it, adored her. the woman with nerves of steel and a degree of class that made you nervous to look at her. her name, a simple and unoriginal choice, but it meant something. invisible, the one thing susan could never quite be, regardless of her powers.
and then there was him.
johnny storm, human torch. creative, somewhat. you weren’t quite sure how to categorize him, and that deeply irritated you. interactions with the public indicated he was an arrogant womanizer, but you saw the insanely different way he moved with his family. he was encouraging, supportive, loyal.
“how are you all tonight?” the host grinned at the family, expression full of mirth and genuine excitement to have this opportunity. “we are well,” reed answered calmly, “thank you for the invitation.”
the first few conversations were a little awkward, given reed’s inability to talk casually and his frequent redirection to facts and statistics, and the way johnny kept lighting the tips of his fingers aflame to entertain the small child in the front row.
“so, i’ve got to ask, mr. richards,” the host began carefully, “what’s it like? going from a normal life to being some of the most capable beings in the universe?”
you tuned in, eyes narrowing at their body language. they all seemed unsurprised, prepared to answer these kinds of questions.
“it’s…jarring,” susan gently crossed a leg over the other, and reed placed a hand on her knee, “to say the least. we’ve had to readjust everything we knew. it was, well, it still is,” she laughed a little, “hard to figure out our places in the world.”
“i wouldn’t say i’m content,” ben admitted with a solemn tone of reluctant acceptance, a beat of vulnerability in his voice, “but, if this is how i can best help my family and the world, i think i can live with it.”
you sat with that.
he hated what he’d become, what the world had labeled him as. a thing. not quite man, not quite monster, but he took his role with stride.
what would the world think of you?
the paralyzing effect of your powers, the ice cold sensation that penetrated nerves—what could you do to help the world with a curse that knows nothing but how to inflict pain?
“…questions from the audience. is that alright?” you blinked back into the real world, recognizing the shift in tone as a method of relieving the sad tension in the room. “johnny! johnny!” you heard a woman shout, her hand raised wildly. he nodded, blue eyes locked on her.
“have you met your soulmate?”
you noticed the expressions change in an instant.
susan looked worried, reed’s eyes fell to the ground, and ben simply observed.
“not yet,” he shortly said, and your brows knit at the fading hope that lied beneath his words. was someone as popular and esteemed as johnny storm saddened that he had not met his soulmate yet? a man like him, given the powers of a thousand suns, a figure that saved the city nearly every week—and he was concerned about soulmates?
“do you want to?” she pressed, ignoring the host’s gestures for her to sit.
“it’s a dream of mine, yeah,” he admitted, picking at the sleeves of his sweater, “isn’t it everyone’s? i mean, meeting the one made for you sounds pretty nice, right?”
“no,” you whispered under your breath, quiet as a mouse. the man two seats from you didn’t even turn his head, neither did the woman sitting in front of you. johnny’s head jerked over, and you tensed in an instant. his eyes scanned the crowd, and you froze when your gazes connected.
“johnny?” susan asked, her face the elegant picture of confusion, “what’s wrong?”
confused whispers scattered among the crowd as johnny stood, eyes still locked with yours. his lips quirked up into a tiny smile, “i’d like to change my answer, ma’am.”
you felt your racing heart in your throat.
“i think i just found her.”
johnny storm had always loved the idea of finding the person meant for him.
he remembered grinning so wide when his darling sister found hers, so smitten as people surrounding him found their matches. benjamin with alicia, susan with reed, pete with MJ…
now, it was his turn.
ever since he’d make eye contact with you in that crowd a few months, he’s been a man obsessed. he dissected the list of guests, he tracked leads through ticket sales, and he found nothing. all he has is your unimpressed face, the barely concealed terror in your eyes, and the way you practically vanished.
johnny was losing it.
and you were hiding.
you had never wanted a soulmate, never wanted to meet them. a soulmate would not magically revert your stoic and horrible views of the world, they would simply be another disappointment for you to catalogue. your powers were spiraling, the inability to release the conserved energy wearing you down—your self restraint barely able to remain normal.
this was the last thing you needed.
johnny storm didn’t know what he was getting into, but you did.
he was seeking a woman who hated herself as much as the world, a woman who preferred isolation and little connection to love and family, a woman who wore fear and caution as a shield. a woman who had a fragile soul, a heart that she feared putting into the wrong hands.
you’d gone without affection your entire life.
johnny had a loving family, a plethora of fans and friends that kept him going.
you weren’t compatible. you didn’t need him.
you paused, the small screen in front of you displaying a news report that you had already predicted:
WAS SHE A GHOST? HUMAN TORCH IN SEARCH FOR HIS SOULMATE!
you picked at your ripped tights, shooting a glance at your kitchen. its cabinets and fridge were growing bare, and you knew you would have to make an inevitable trip to the store.
your gaze shifted back to the screen, and you saw a candid photo of johnny storm himself. his eyes were slightly discouraged, but he still donned a smile that radiated pure hope and joy. he was walking through the city, an outfit so casual it made your heart ache.
you crossed your arms at the number displayed on the screen.
you bit your lip, should you get it over with? should you tell him you want nothing to do with him?
before you could let the fire of hope fester inside you, you yanked the landline up and dialed the wretched number. it rang briefly, and when it answered, your hands shook.
“this is johnny,” he greeted smoothly, “you a fan or are you the girl i’m looking for?”
you didn’t reply. the words you’d prepared suddenly flashed away, replaced by a feeling you couldn’t name, “why are you looking for her?”
you could tell he was confused, startled by your words. he laughed, “because…she’s my soulmate, and i’d love to get to know her? i’ve been waiting for this moment my whole life.”
“you have everything in the world you could ever want,” you muttered, “a loving family, a powerful gift, fame, success admiration—“
“there’s something missing,” johnny cut you off, “i don’t know if you’ve found yours yet, but i promise it’s like everything just fell into place.”
“i found mine.” the words tasted bitter in your mouth.
“how did it make you feel?”
“afraid.”
you heard him chuckle, as if the way the conversation was going was amusing to him. it was more therapy than it was a tip in locating his soulmate. “i’m sorry,” he murmured, “i hate it didn’t feel this way for you. i’m plagued with her, and all i got to go off of is her pretty face. i hope she sees my message and reaches out.”
“she will,” you whispered before you could stop yourself, “but do you think she’s worth all this?”
“yeah,” johnny breathed, voice all-knowing, “you’re worth every second.”
your heart began to race, your face warming as you were stunned into silence.
“cat got your tongue?” he mused, “i’m more than a pretty face, baby. knew it was you the first word you said.”
your breathing quickened as you went to hang up:
“wait.”
you shakily held the phone back to your ear.
“are you really afraid of me? of this?”
“there’s nothing,” you cruelly whispered, a soft crack in your voice the only emotion, “soulmates mean nothing to me. life means nothing to me.”
“i don’t believe that. what happened to you? nobody is scared and disgusted by love like this without reason,” his voice ached, sadness dripping off his tongue. “too much,” you admitted, vulnerable, “enough to make me believe i’m not worthy of anyone. especially not you.”
“you haven’t even given it a chance—“
“i gave fate enough chances,” you replied, feeling your eyes well with tears and your heart harden, “i won’t make that mistake again.”
johnny’s voice died as you dropped the phone back on the receiver. you shut off the television, knees kissing the carpet as you fell on the ground. you curled into a ball, the painful ringing of the severity of what you just did bouncing in your skull.
you told johnny storm you didn’t want him.
you were long used to depriving yourself of new things, things that you silently craved for that you buried beneath reality and false expectations.
but this was new.
this guilt for protecting yourself.
the phone rang incessantly. you tore the wires from the wall with a crook of your finger.
your tears soaked the carpet fibers. your eyes red and dry.
across the city, johnny storm sat against the wall with the phone in hand, the only sound a piercing beep of a call that had long been disconnected.
the person he’s been yearning for his whole life hated herself enough to shove him away, to shove away the person meant to show her that life is worth living and that love is a beautifully safe thing.
johnny, for the first time in his life, didn’t know what to do.
he didn’t even know your name.
didn’t know what to do about the woman who cried herself to sleep on her floor, wisps of magic embracing her so comfortingly.
he still wanted you, he decided then. he would teach you love, he would teach you care, he would teach you. he would help you.
i have enough love for the both of us.
riotrants: self indulgent as hell. i think soulmates are so beautiful, i think being paired with someone who just wants to love you no matter how hard to love you are is so special. everyone deserves love, love of any kind. i’m sad. this reader means so much to me. she is, in case you didn’t notice, like wanda in the sense of her magic (wattpad fanfiction canon event), but hers is very emotion oriented. it paralyzes, much how she feels paralyzed by human interaction and the expectations of normal life, and it’s cold, much how she presents herself…
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ⓘ katsuki bakugo x fem!reader x eijiro kirishima ⸝⸝ fluff, smut, angst, alternative universe (au: fantasy), polyamorous romance, action-adventure, mature themes
what if you were a princess from distant land sent to another nation to marry a barbarian they call a dragon king only to find yourself tangled in a dangerous court filled with brutal traditions, political unrest, betrayal, and two possessive men who slowly begin to claim every part of you for themselves.
꒰ TABLE OF CONTENTS ꒱ ✶⋆.˚ ⌕
ⓘ one ⸝⸝ your a dutiful princess sent to marry the barbarian dragon king of the scarlet region for the sake of an alliance, only to find yourself caught between your terrifying new husband and the fiercely loyal dragon hybrid who slowly becomes just as possessive of you as the king himself. ﹙18.8k﹚
ⓘ two ⸝⸝ as political tensions rise and opposition against you grows more dangerous, you survive three attempts on your life before disappearing without a trace, forcing katsuki and eijiro to tear through the kingdom in a desperate search while threats from anti- royal extreamist “the unseen” push the realm closer to chaos. ﹙22.9k﹚
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“My family would kill me if they found out about us. Not to mention what they might do to you.” You’re not avoiding his gaze anymore, which makes it perfectly easy to see the worry in your eyes. He fights the urge to touch you, tries to use his words to soothe you instead.
“Listen, they don’t have to find out. Hell, no one does. We’ll just go on one date. We’ll get to know each other, like you said, see if this works. And, hey, if it doesn’t? We just stop. No harm, no foul.”
The foul would be that Eddie would lose the girl of his dreams after just one date, but a man only has to drink from the Holy Grail once to be changed forever.
“And if it does work?”
“Then, I die happy.”
Pairing: Eddie Munson x F!Reader
Summary: The Princess of Hawkins High gets swept away in a secret romance with local freak Eddie Munson.
Genre: Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort
Content: no Y/N, dual POV, secret relationship, mutual pining, opposites attract, Golden Girl!Reader, 24814 words
Tags/warnings: overworked reader, injury to reader (cut hand)
Summary: you were the assistant to the fantastic four and to most that would be a dream, but you'd slowly stopped taking care of yourself over time, and you'd thought no-one had noticed, except for the team's fireball to see you desperately needed a break, even if you wouldn't admit it.
Word count: 3.5k
You had speed walked in, barely time to take your coat off. You were late for Sunday night dinner, the one rule of the household, never be late for dinner. You look at the clock, 7:20… 20 minutes late because you fell asleep in your car. You rush towards the table and see… only Johnny. “Where were you, you're late?” You look down at the table, most of the food Ben cooked, gone. “Ah sorry, got stuck in traffic”. You lie. In reality, you'd gone out to collect something and fell asleep in your car, what was supposed to be a small 20 minute nap, turned into an hour before you woke up and realised you were late. Johnny quickly looks you over, not completely buying it, but leaves it anyway. “Come on, saved you a plate”. You nod quickly, sitting down at your spot to eat.
You weren't like the rest of the team. You were simply a person, no powers, no superhero. Just an assistant to four. Around a year before Reed had been looking for an assistant to help with scheduling and such, emails, phonecalls, things to be checked and rechecked. Most people who applied were either very under-experienced or wouldn't be able to handle the workload. There were a few that purely wanted to work with them to be close to Johnny. But you, you were different. You had the experience he wanted, and you were immune to Johnny's charm, which was a plus. He gave you a small test run for a day to see how you handled things, and by the end, he was so impressed that he offered you the job on the spot. You couldn't believe it, you took the offer next thing you knew, you were moved into the Baxter building, having your own room and immediately started working.
Everything was fine at first, you always kept up with the workload, but as the four got more popular, and more battles happened and damage to places and with whatever the hell Reed did in his lab, it was slowly building up. The pressure, the stress, you didn't want to seem incompetent, that you couldn't work so you made a few sacrifices, maybe a couple extra hours of your downtime gone so you could catch up with emails, who minded if you only had dinner as a proper meal when you had meetings to sit through and organise notes for? You hid it well, you kept up the prime and proper outside look, that you weren't struggling so you could continue working, and everyone else was so caught up in their own things they didn't notice…. Everyone except Johnny.
It may have taken Johnny some time to realise, but he saw. Saw the bags under your eyes you hid with makeup, saw the glow of your computer screen as you worked hard into the night, saw the coffee mugs building around you as you worked. He didn't know how to bring it up. He had once tried with Reed, but he was so busy that he didn't even listen to him. He'd tried with Ben, but Ben just didn't see it. He thought you were fine, Sue wouldn't have noticed being busy with Franklin now. And now he watched you from across the table, eating whatever he could save on a plate for you to make sure you at least ate something decent and not just another snack you stole from the cupboard.
You soon finish the slightly cold food and thank Johnny for saving you a plate. He nods, watching you one last time before he starts picking up plates to take to the kitchen. You pick up what you can and follow. H.E.R.B.I.E, the trusted robot helper around the house, rolls in and also helps wash the dishes. Johnny soon leaves, having you and Herb clean and put away the dishes. As you do, Ben walks in seeing you pair. “Hey little one” He jokes, his rock hand lightly ruffling your hair. You smile softly, moving away to try and fix your mess of hair. Ben reaches over for some fruit before looking you over. “You alright?” He asks, you give him a simple nod, continuing to wash up. Herb continues to help, beeping as he looks between you and Ben. “Just tired” you say as an excuse. Ben nods, understanding. He knew your job couldn't be easy. Dealing with one hero was bad enough, dealing with four? You'd have to either be a Saint or insane… maybe you were both. You and Herb finish up the dishes, and you dry both your hands, Ben leans against the counter, looking at you. “So, you got plans tonight?” He is more curious than anything. You shake your head, “nah, an early night for me, I think” You tell yourself like you can make yourself do it, just one early night, and everything will be okay, right? Ben nods and soon leaves, taking a bite out of the apple he took. You sigh once he's gone and give Herb’s metal head some scratches before he rolls away to find another job to do. You decide you should probably have some down time to yourself before going to bed, and head to your bedroom.
Once there, you initially went to get changed into some pj's, maybe grab a book you've been meaning to read and head to sleep. Instead, you're too tempted by the computer on your desk and say to yourself, “just gonna check a few emails, that's all… it won't take long to do, just a few emails and that's it”. What started as a few became more, and more, and more. You hadn't realised how long you'd been staring at the screen before a knock on your door made you jump and finally look away.
In walked Johnny, in some sweat bottoms and a shirt, “What are you doing up”? He asked, arms crossed over his chest, like he'd just caught a child stealing cookies. “Uhh, I was just looking over a few things, Reed has a big meeting tomorrow, so I want it to go as-” “Tomorrow? Do you mean today? It's nearly 3 in the morning”. Johnny interrupted you. What? It wasn't th-... shit. So much for an early night. You sigh, putting your head in your hands… goddamn it, again?! Johnny sees this and walks over. “Come on, over to bed. Now.” He says the last bit sternly, putting his foot down, so to speak. He closes down your email and helps you up by putting you to bed. You let him know better than to fight him right now. “Wait, why are you up?” You ask, looking up at him. He shrugs. “Couldn't sleep”. You nod not thinking much, too tired as your exhaustion hits you like a car. Johnny sees this and slowly lies you back in bed, covering you in your blankets, taking one last look at your face before slowly moving back to the door, careful not to wake you.
The next morning, you wake up, your alarm having not gone off, sending you into a bit of a panic until you notice a small bit of paper taped to the alarm clock. You rip it off, seeing Johnny's hand writing saying ‘Don't stress about the emails and stuff, got it all sorted, enjoy your sleep in-JS’, you smile a little before getting up and checking the time, just half past ten. You stretch heading into the bathroom for a shower. You wash your hair, realising how long it had been since you last did wash it, getting rid of the greasy feeling for a fresh one. You wash your body before getting out in a fluffy warm towel, wrapping it around your body and heading to the bedroom to dry and change. Putting your hair up in a bunch, back in her work clothes, and leaving for the kitchen.
Sue had Franklin on her lap feeding him, Ben was cooking breakfast with Herbie helping as you walk in, “Morning everyone”, Sue looks up “Morning dear”, “Morning squirt” Ben says flipping over some eggs. You reach for the coffee machine, grabbing your favourite mug. “You're up later than normal, you sick?” Ben asks, seeing the time. “Johnny decided to turn off my alarm last night, idiot”. You comment thinking back to his note you woke up to this morning, as your coffee finishes brewing you make your coffee as the said idiot walks in. “Morning all, ohh”. Johnny walks in, stealing a bite of bacon from the table. You check what's on the schedule for today, seeing Reed has another delivery coming today of some new… whatever that man brought.
The rest of the morning continues, Sue eating breakfast while Johnny holds Franklin playing with him, Ben makes you breakfast as well while you look over notes seeing Reed is in a meeting so you'll have to watch for the delivery today. Once breakfast is done, everyone scatters, Sue leaves with Franklin getting him ready for the day, Ben leaves to clean up, and Johnny heads back to his room to do… whatever. A few hours go by, and you get the update that Reed’s delivery had turned up outside, and you head outside. The delivery truck has already left by the time you make it down there, a few boxes with one giant one outside the door. As soon as you touch and move the bigger box… there's a jangle, a glassy jangle… oh please no. You opened the box, and sure enough, whatever was inside is now shattered. You groan frustrated. You really didn't need this today. As you move the boxes, you hear more shattered glass and decide to open them to see the damage. Broken glass everywhere all in the boxes, you let out a frustrated sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose between your fingers before having to call Reed. You didn't want to as you were sure he was still in his meeting, but he still had to know. You call him expecting him not to pick up til the third ring, “Yes, hello? I'm in a meeting so th- ""Your deliveries are here and it's all smashed… all of it… broken”. There's a moment of silence on Reeds before he finally speaks up. “Alright, I'll come down and take a look for myself”. He hangs up afterwards, and you are stuck staring at the boxes.
You decide to try and move what you could and see if anything was possibly salvageable, carefully moving piece by piece, you mutter to yourself in anger, “Why was this so hard? Why did this have to happen today, is it that hard to just do your job and make sure everything gets here in one piece… how is it so hard to do, why can't they just do their jo-AHH!” You feel a sudden hot burning feeling in your hand, a red drop hitting the floor beneath it. When you go to look, you see a red line of blood down your palm. In your frustration, you hadn't watched what you'd been doing, and badly cut your hand. You grit your teeth as you try hard not to scream from anger, from pain…
You sigh, holding your hand up as you quickly walk back into the building heading for the kitchen, seeing Ben cooking up some lunch as you head to the sink to wash the blood now trailing down your arm. Ben glanced before turning his head against seeing the red mix with the clean water. “What the hell happened?” He asks just as Johnny walks in, looking for another snack. “Why hello princess, how are we… Who did that?” He asks, looking down at your bleeding hand. His gaze darkens, thinking someone hurt you. You quickly explain, “it's nothing, Reeds stuff just got here and broke. I tried moving it and sliced my hand open… wasn't watching what I was doing”. You hiss as your hand finally goes under the water cleaning the cut, you finally get to see it clearly. It's not deep but definitely still did damage. Ben turns to leave the kitchen to get a med kit while Johnny helps keep your hand under the water to keep it clean.
“You gotta be more careful, you know?” You roll your eyes. “Yes yes I know, don't really need a lecture right now” Johnny nods, knowing when to shut up. He takes the hand out from under the running water and carefully dries your hand as Ben turns up with bandages. You let them help you as Ben wraps the bandages around your hand just as Reed shows up seeing the bandages. “What happened?” He asks, you explain how you cut your hand on the broken glass of his deliveries, Ben finishes up taping the bandage down. “I'll be fine, Reed, just a small cut”. Johnny scoffs, “small cut? It went over your entire palm, that's not ‘small’”. You sigh, “I'll be fine” you say again, more like you're trying to convince them. Reed sighs. “You're done for today, no more meetings, emails, phone calls, anything for the rest of the day”. He tells you sternly, like he's telling you off. You go to argue, but know that once Reed’s made up his mind, that was it.
You sigh and nod, knowing you won't win this. “Good, I'll have someone clean up outside so we don't have any more injuries and get rid of the broken glass, and find out what the hell happened to it”. With that Reed leaves, you, Johnny, and Ben left. “Well, you heard the big man, you're out for the rest of the day” Johnny teases, knowing it was hard for you to shut off, remembering last night that you stayed up til 3am. You sigh, looking down at your now bandaged hand. You move your fingers up and down, the movement making your hand stretch, causing the cut to stretch as well, making you hiss. Johnny looks and sees your grimace. He knows you find it hard to turn off, but honestly, he thinks this was a secret blessing in disguise to make you actually take a break for a day. “Come on, let's go to the couch missy”. Johnny says, taking your non injured hand in his and dragging you to the couch.
Once sat down together, he gets your legs over his lap and pushes your heels off. “You are going to sit here all day, and I will tape you down if I have to,” he says, maybe half joking. He gets back up, moving to the kitchen, getting you food and some water, placing them in front of you. You sit there tapping your foot against the floor, you weren't used to doing nothing, you were always on the go, something coming up, something to do and now, you'd just stopped all because of a bit of glass. Johnny leaves the room at some point, so you get up to get on your computer. It was only a cut hand. It wouldn't be that difficult to work on a computer, right? Well… that was til after a while of typing your hand starts to hurt due to the cut stretching under the bandage, you groan a little continuing through the pain, it was just a cut, why was Johnny being so insistent on you having the day off over a cut?
A few minutes go by, and the door opens, followed by the sound of a throat clearing. You turn, and of course, it's Johnny, looking less than impressed with his arms folded over his chest. “I thought I told you to sit on the couch for the day to rest?” His voice was clear of any of the jokiness he had in it before.
“Johnny it'd just a hand cut I'll be fi-”
“IT'S NOT JUST THAT THOUGH!”
You jump at the sound of him screaming at you, something he doesn't do unless you're in danger. “For god's sake y/n this is more than just your cut, you think I don't see how tired you are, those bags under your eyes, the migraines you get, you think I don't notice how little you've been eating or sleeping over the past few months?” You look up at him and not just see he's annoyed but concerned for you. “I've been trying for months to get the others to see how you are but their all either too busy with other things or just can't see it, but after today with your hand, hopefully at least Reed has seen that you need a break, you can't keep running on empty, today it could be just a hand cut, what if its worst next time, you could fall down the stairs, you might get harmed by one of Reed's experiments, fuck… Why won't you just do this for me at least!?”
You look at him in shock. You hadn't realised someone was actually watching you, hadn't noticed how little you take care of yourself to do your work. You sigh, your hands finally moving away from the keypad, your cut still hurting from the movement. Johnny watches you carefully before he comes over and picks you up, one hand under your legs, the other wrapped around your back, holding your arm. You rest your head against his shoulder as he carries you away from your computer. You can feel the warmth coming from him due to his fire powers. It was nice, comforting. You expect Johnny to lead you back to your room but get confused when you go past your door, maybe the living ro- no past there too, he keeps going til you stop outside his door. With a bit of a struggle, he opens his door and walks over to his bed, slowly sitting you on the edge. Without saying a word, he goes to his dresser and pulls out an old shirt and sweatpants, passing it to you to change into before he leaves the room.
You carefully change out of your work clothes, your blouse, and skirt on the floor before you throw the shirt over yourself, along with the pants. After a few minutes, he comes back, a plate of snacks and a cup of hot chocolate. He knew you liked the drink when you were ill or cold. He places them on his bedside table next to you. “I told Reed and he says he'll make an appointment for a doctor to look at your hand, see if stitches are needed or not, and until then, you're off on sick leave til your hand heals.” It almost made you laugh, the irony of your boss for once making the appointments instead of you. You whisper a soft thank you before Johnny carefully pushes you down on the bed. You reach over for the hot chocolate, noticing the whipped cream and marshmallows he put on top for you. You sip the drink, the warmth spreading through you as the sweetness hits your tongue. You almost don't notice Johnny watching as you get a small bit of cream on your nose. He wipes it away before you can. “Just don't get any stains on my bed, just wash the sheets”. He playfully warns you, causing you to smile.
After you finish your drink and eat your food, you finally start to feel tired, Johnny walking in and out the room to check on you. At some point you fall asleep in his bed, the duvet was just that right level of puffy and soft, the pillow like a cloud against your head, or maybe it was just because of how little you had slept recently making you think that. Whatever it was, you fell asleep pretty quickly.
Johnny walks in to check on you again and quickly quietens down seeing you sleeping. He smiles, seeing you finally resting as he walks over carefully. The bags are still under your eyes, and the bandage is still wrapped over your hand. Your hair is a mess. He carefully moves a piece of hair out of your face and behind your ear. He slowly moves away from the bed and grabs a record, putting his record player on a lower volume before he places the record on top. He takes a deep breath before sitting in a chair by his window and relaxing.
He looks over at you, still sleeping. He smiles softly. If you weren't going to be there to look after yourself, he'd make sure you did. He rests his head on the chair, the outside now bathed in golden light as the sunsets in front of the window. Johnny slowly closes his own eyes, he'd be here when you woke up, he'd be there for your doctor's appointment, there for when you healed from possible stitches and there after you got back to work. He'd always be there to make sure you looked after yourself whether that be saying no to extra work, or making sure you've eaten and had something to drink during the day, he'd be there, because he cares about you, even if you don't see it that way, he will annoy you to take care of yourself if needed. With that last thought, his mind falls asleep too in his chair, facing you as if he wanted you to be the last thing he saw.
.☘︎ ݁˖ Synopsis: Mike has a crush on Eleven, but she can't date him until her blunt, hardheaded, spit fire sister gets a boyfriend. So, why doesn't he help her out?
A hate to love to hate to love again story where Mike gets Steve to pay Eddie "the freak" Munson to date
Hopper! reader. What could go wrong?
‧₊˚♪𝄞₊˚⊹
A/N: Woah 3,225 words?! That's crazy to me! Also I did try to sneak in the fact you still think about Hoppers first child aka your first sisters death. In the future I do want to explore more into that tbh, hope I improve enough to do that plot some justice when it comes to it. Also sorry for the slow updates I've just been getting so off track I'm really sorry I made yall wait this long🙁 Anyways, I hope you Like it!!!
Also follow me on @SantiTheGooner on Wattpad and Tiktok
(also @Santithegooner_ on insta!!)
Word Count: 3.2k
Series Master List
Mike felt his whole heart shatter.
When Jane broke the news to him he felt like she locked him out of heaven and threw away the keys. And all because of what? A stupid rule her crazy father made up to keep her from growing up and exploring adolescence? I mean, who would date that psychopath Jane calls her sister?
The group ate lunch outside this time. Dustin and Lucas tried to cheer him up while they sat on a bench by the soccer field, but he wasn’t listening.
“Come on man, I’m sure there are lots of guys who would be willing to date your girlfriend's sister!" Lucas smiles resting his hand on Mike’s shoulder. “I mean, if people jump from airplanes or eat bugs then I’m sure someone would date your girlfriend’s sister.”
Dustin nods, “Yeah! Think of it as, uh, extreme dating!” Mike straightened his slouched back, the two boys noticed a little spark of hope in his eyes.
“You think so?” Mike mutters, looking at both his friends.
“Yeah man, I’m sure if we ask around we’ll find someone who at least would date her for her looks, come on!” Dustin says, standing up, “I have a plan”.
The trio first asked the hippie kids, they said she’s too aggressive. Then they asked the choir kids, they said her voice was too annoying. Then they asked the nerd boys, they said she’s not nerdy enough. As a last resort, they asked the jocks. But, before the boys could finish saying your name they laughed straight to their.
Defeated, Dustin goes to his third period class, science.
𝄞⨾💿✮˚.⋆
“So, you’re telling me you’re trying to convince someone to go out with Jane’s sister? And it's because their dad won’t allow Jane to date Mike until her sister gets a date?” Will questions as the duo sit down in their assigned lab chairs, “but no one will date them because they’re ‘crazy’?” Will adds making imaginary quotes with his fingers.
“Yes!” Dustin nods, putting on his lab coat and goggles
“Well, what about Munson?” Will asked. Eddie Munson, known as the ‘freak’ of Hawkins was the opposite of a regular student. His wild hair, love for D&D, and the fact he's a not so secret drug dealer does not help him fit in. Especially in the standards of an average student that attends Hawkins high.
Dustin raises a brow, “Eddie? No way! look man, he’s my friend in all but I heard he bit a live bat’s head clean off, like Ozzy Osbourne style. I don’t think girls would be into that,” Will scoffs. “I'm being serious! He may be my friend, but even I can’t tell if the rumors are fake or not, when I asked, he sat there and smiled! He smiled!” Will sighs, standing up Will starts to make his way towards Eddie. Who was trying to light up a cigarette using the fire from a Bunsen burner the science teacher let them use.
“Hey, Eddie-" Will greets, fidgeting with his fingers out of nervousness. Eddie raises a brow, his brown eyes boring into Will’s hazel one’s. “Never mind” more embarrassed than scared, Will sat back down head hung low.
“So, you’re telling me you’re going to try to set up Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson with the most stuck-up girl in school?” Mike says in disbelief as he grabs his things out of his locker, “How would we even get them to be in the same room as each other? Let alone date.”
“We could always pay him,” Dustin shrugs
Will sighs, “Yeah? With what money?”
Lucas snaps his eyebrows raised in excitement, “What we need is a backer.” The trio of boys looks at Lucas with a raised brow, the dark-skinned boy rolls his eyes, “someone with money. It means someone dumb with lots of money.”
Dustin smirks, “I know the perfect guy.” The group glances at a familiar Farrah Fawcett hairspray-wearing boy. Who was talking to his good friend Robin a few feet away.
“Hey Steve! Can you do us a big favor? I mean, like a huge favor!” Dustin grins, walking up to Steve. The boy rolls his eyes as Robin giggles.
“Steve, I didn’t know you had kids!” she teases. Steve rolls his eyes at the girl’s comment, “What do you want, Henderson?”
Dustin chuckles as he leans against Steve’s locker. Dustin was hoping to seem less nervous and more 'cool', “Well, what if I told you that I need you to pay my friend Eddie around..." Dustin trails off trying to think of a reasonable price. "Let’s say around, $25 so he can date Jane’s sister so Jane can date Mike would you be willing to do it?”
A moment of silence passes.
“No,” Steve shrugs.
“No?! Come on Steve, this is for a good cause! I mean, aren’t you rich!” Dustin throws his hands in the air in disbelief.
“Hey, come on, don’t you love playing matchmaker! We have nothing else to do anyways!” Robin butts in, nudging Steve’s shoulder.
Steve crosses his arms, “First, I never said I loved- or even liked playing matchmaker. Second, I have better things to do with my time. And third, good cause my ass!” Robin scoffs, rolling her eyes. “I mean, this ‘cause’ only benefits Mike! And if he wants to date someone so bad, then why doesn’t he date some other desperate chick!”
Mike crosses his arms. He knew this plan was bullshit. “She’s not some desperate chick!” Before he could protest more his eyes light up, almost like a light bulb that had turned on.
Mike had an idea.
“You know her dad is Chief Jim Hopper, right?” Steve raises a brow and nods, telling the boy to continue, “well that man is a huge drinker, and a smoker too! I will ask Jane to smuggle her daddy’s little supply, and boom!” Mike exclaims making dramatic gestures with his hands.
“Free smokes and alcohol for life! Jane wanted her dad to quit, anyway. So it's a win win situation!" Robin looks at Steve a smirk threatening to show on her face.
Rolling his eyes, “ok fine, do I have to pay him now?” All four boys nod in unison.
𝄞⨾💿✮˚.⋆
Steve and Eddie weren’t friends. If you asked Steve, he’d say he disliked the boy. But beer is beer, and he could go for a free cigarette.
Steve spots Eddie sitting on the hood of his car in the school’s parking lot, smoking what Steve can assume is a blunt.
“Hey, Eddie,” Steve says, placing himself right next to Eddie. Eddie glances at Steve, eyes full of confusion.
“Well! Didn’t think I’d see the day the great King Steve would be buying from a druggie like me! What do you want, princess?” The wild-haired boy exclaims, throwing his arms around Steve. Usually, Steve would call him a idiot and push his arms off him, but today he was craving some free cigs.
“Yeah, and you will never- and don’t call me that. I’m here because I have a proposition for you.” Eddie’s eyebrow raises.
“proposition?” Eddie repeats, “What is it?”
“Y’know Jane’s sister, the crazy one, daughter of Chief Jim Hopper, right?” Eddie nods, taking a puff of his blunt. “Well, I need you to go out with her,” Eddie scoffs, “In your dreams, Harrington.”
Steve sighs, rubbing his forehead. “Look man, this kid I babysit. Mike- he- he loves this girl, and she can’t date unless her sister does. I guess it’s some stupid rule their whacked out dad made up-, kinda like a Romeo and Juliet kind of situation. But, I don’t wanna deal with him moping and-“
Eddie puts out his blunt, a stupid smirk plastered on his face. “Such a touching story, Harrington!” the wild-haired boy leans in, “But, how is that my problem?”
Steve pauses for a moment before he smirks, “What if I make it your problem?” the fluffy haired boy pulls out a crisp $20 bill. Eddie looks up at him, unimpressed.
“Only $20?” Eddie says, standing up and placing himself right in front of Harrington. “Let’s think about this, we go to the movies, that’s about what- 15 bucks? Then She asks for popcorn, that’s 53, and she’d want a drink, right?” Eddie looks at Steve, “So, 75 bucks and we have a deal, sound good to you, princess?”
Steve stares at Eddie in sheer disbelief, god he hates this guy “hell no! 25 or no deal” he states now chest to chest with Eddie.
“75.”
“20.”
“80.”
"25."
"85."
“30!”
“50 or no deal.”
Steve’s patients were running thin, he sighs in defeat “fine deal, take your stupid 50 dollars bill!” he exclaims showing the money into Eddies chest.
Eddie smirks, happy he got a 50 dollar bill from Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington. “Thank you sweetheart! I won’t let you down!” he says placing a dramatic kiss on the 50 and hopping into his old rundown van. The dark brown haired boy leans out the window, “I'll start my mission first thing tomorrow! Don't worry that pretty little head off!”
It wasn’t until after Eddie’s van disappeared down the street did Steve noticed his jaw clenched. He lets out a slow and steady breath as his shoulders relaxed “god, Mike owes me so many cigarettes.”
𝄞⨾💿✮˚.⋆
Laying on his back Eddie stares at his ceiling, the $50 Steve gave him sitting heavy in his pocket.
As much as he tried he couldn't get Steve's 'proposal' out of his mind, I mean, how is he supposed to swoon you? Has he ever talked to you? Has he ever seen you smile before? Hell, he didn't even know your favorite color! Eddie groans resting his forearm over his eyes.
"I need a distraction" Eddie mutters to no one in particular, "I need some weed".
chuckling at how ridiculous he's acting the boy continues to spiral. "why do I care so much anyways, It's not like I'd actually date her".
The wild haired boy glances at the guitar hanging in his bedroom wall. It looked almost sad, over the years the strings and paint had changed in color. A once bright, beautiful, lively guitar had now turned into a dust collector. The poor thing seemed to be rotting away on his bedroom wall. All he needs to get supplies to fix his dear 'Miss Metallica' is some money. Thanks to Harrington he's now $50 short of, what he assumes, is a $100 repair.
All he needs to do is hold up his end of the deal, it cant be that hard. right?
𝄞⨾💿✮˚.⋆
Eddie never knew you share two classes together. Thanks to Steve who had gotten this information from Dustin. he was now hyper aware of the fact you even go to the same school as him.
One class you shared was math, which was actually his first period of the day. Eddie had never been on time when coming to class. Usually he'd skip and smoke in the football field, but today he had an adjective.
"Oh, Eddie, look who finally decided to be present!" Mrs. Kate said, her voice a little too sweet. She'd never liked him and he knew it.
"Felt like learning" Eddie nods taking a seat next to you.
"Well I hope you feel like having a test!" Mrs. Kate smiles.
A chorus of groans fill the class, but Eddie wasn't paying attention he was too busy looking at you. You didn't seem nervous or annoyed at all. Yes, you did look mad, but when didn't you?
After Mrs. Kate passed out the packets the whole class went quiet. Eddie was pretty sure if he dropped a pin the whole class would be able to hear it. God, he hated quiet. Quiet left room for thought, and right now the boy had a lot going on in his head.
The curly haired boy glances at you for what had felt like the tenth time this period. You were laser focused on your test, he knew you'd most likely get an A even if you didn't try. You've always been smart.
Eddie didn't believe in a higher power.
If anyone asked him before he'd say the only thing he believed in is heavy metal. But as he sneaks glances at you he finds himself praying whatever dumb plan his brain came up with would work. Taking a deep breath Eddie made his 'move'.
"Psst."
You ignored him.
"Psst."
Your eyebrows furrow.
"Psst!"
You sigh in annoyance, stopping all movements to turn and glare at him.
"What? What do you want!" You whisper trying to stop yourself from yelling.
"Woah! no need to be hostile, I'm wondering if you're interested in going out with me?" the boy smirks trying to hide his nervousness.
You roll your eyes at Eddie's sad attempt at 'flirting', "and go where? The 7/11 near your rat infested trailer park? No thank you, shouldn't you be paying attention to the test? Do you even know my name druggie?"
"I could get to know you."
You stare at Eddie. Fist clenched so tight around your pencil he thought you were going to jump out your seat and stab him.
But, for a moment Eddie thought he saw a smirk forming on your lips. Instead of stabbing the boy you shoot your hand up catching the attention of Mrs. Kate. The older lady glances up from her computer to look at you, "Yes?" You place your hangs in your lap, "Eddie keeps trying to cheat off me" you say glancing at the boy next to you.
Mrs. Kate looks at Eddie with furrowed eyebrows, "I know, I know" Eddie sighs throwing his hands up in defeat. He already knows Mrs. Kate wouldn't believe any attempt at defending himself. So, he gets up and walks out of the class without a sound. Before he leaves he steals one last glance at you.
You were grinning at him, you almost seemed like you were holding back a laugh.
After he left Eddie realized that was the first time you ever smiled at him.
𝄞⨾💿✮˚.⋆
"we're screwed." Mike says in a defeatist tone.
The young boy decided to meet Eddie in the cafeteria so he could ask how 'Beauty and the Bitch' was going. His friends decided to stay in the outdoor soccer field. Something about not 'wanting to deal with his relationship issues on their time off'. The laughs of friends filled the lunch room, Mike felt almost envious of how happy everyone seemed to be. Eddie slings his arm around Mike pulling him out of thought, "Hey! I don't wanna hear that depressing attitude I wanna hear you upbeat!"
Mike turns to the older boy forcing an exaggerated fake smile, "we are screwed!" Mike exclaims with false cheer.
"There we go!" Eddie smiles patting Mike's back harder than needed. "That was my first attempt anyways, I have plenty of time! She'll come around, no woman can resist my charm" Eddie attempts to comfort. But as always his words of encouragement went through one ear and out the other.
In reality Eddie was nervous, more nervous than he needed to be. He had never flirted with any girl ever since he was in the 8th grade, and to be honest you did intrigue him a little. But, he knew your 'don't care' attitude was a wall you built to hide something. He knew if he pushed and poked hard enough you'd let him in.
𝄞⨾💿✮˚.⋆
You sigh splashing your face with sink water. Even though your bathroom is small you still have to share it with your dad and sister. You don't mind as long as Jane doesn't hog it. Usually when you bang on the door and tell her to hurry up you hear a muffled excuse of 'needing to look pretty for school'. You never cared about how others think you look, as long as you think you look good that's all that matters. You couldn't blame her though, because you were that age once. And unfortunately you were the exact same.
God, you couldn't get that stupid curly haired boy out your head. Seeing the image of his stupid smirk that was for some reason burned into your brain makes your blood boil. You were getting ready to 'retreat to your brain fortress' as Jane called it. Jane named it that because anytime you zone out she said it 'looked like you're trapped in your own head'. Jane reminds you so much of her it sometimes makes you sick.
The old bathroom door creaks open.
Jane walks in looking at herself in the mirror, fixing her hair before bed. It wasn't long before she decided she wanted to talk you ear off.
"Maybe you need a new look" she says in thought. You glance at Jane raising a brow in confusion, "I see potential under all your meanness." the younger girl adds earning your signature eye roll. You turn the sink water off, "I'm not mean, it's not my fault people act like idiots all the time." Jane giggles moving behind you to play with your hair, "why don't you try being nice, people like nice people." You shrug, "I don't care if people like me or not, I especially don't care what people think of me." For a moment you feel her hand stop fidgeting with your hair.
"Yes you do."
A beat of silence passes, "No I don't. Y'know you don't have to be what everyone wants you to be."
Jane peaks over your shoulders, because of the height difference she has to stand on her toes. "Well, I like who I am. Do you like who you are?"
The room goes silent. It's so quiet all you could hear is your heart beating. Because if you were being honest, you didn't know how to answer that question. Did you like being 'mean'? Did you like having no friends? Did you actually not care about your reputation around the school?
You stare at yourself in the mirror. The heat of embarrassment makes your whole body tingle. All you wanna do is sleep and never see the light of day again.
With a huff in response you stomp out the bathroom. You don't care what people think, you never will. You never did then so why do you now? Why did your chest feel so tight? Why are you so mad?
You weren't actually angry at Jane for asking the question but more at yourself for not being able to answer it. For acting the way you do. For being so quick to respond with anger. For being a bad sister both back then and now. For not knowing how to be nice. The thing that angered you the most wasn't the actual question. Or how your brain kept spewing a stream of thoughts and questions you wanted to avoid.
No, what angered you the most was even though you try so hard to distract yourself. Your brain still has Eddie's stupid smirk engraved into your head.
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Pairings: Eddie Munson x Fem!
Summary: Asking out Eddie Munson was scary, But Valentine's Day is never as perfect as it seems, but he's sure as hell try to fix it.
Warnings: a little angst, mention of kissing, i think that's it
WC: 6.3 I'm feeling you guys for this event.
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Valentines masterlist
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Of all the stupid ideas you could’ve had, this one ranked somewhere near the top.
You’d been thinking that for most of the day, actually, sitting in class with your notebook open and blank, tapping your pen against the paper while your mind replayed the same thought over and over:
Don’t do it. You’re going to embarrass yourself.
And yet, the card was folded carefully in your jacket pocket, edges already soft from how many times you’d taken it out just to check that it was still there. As if it might disappear. As if the words might rearrange themselves into something less humiliating if you looked at them enough.
You had bought it on the weekend, reading it with a laugh.
But maybe he wouldn’t think it was funny.
But it was cute, if that meant anything.
But something told you that Eddie Munson didn’t do cute.
We’re a perfect match. It read. Two matchsticks holding hands inside of a heart.
It was cheesy. Soft. Painfully sincere.
You thought of every situation, from him smiling in amuseemtn, to him getting offended, maybe thinking you were calling him a hot-head.
The hallway outside the last-period classrooms buzzed with the usual end-of-day noise, lockers slamming, shoes squeaking against linoleum, voices overlapping in a way that felt too loud, too bright.
Pink paper hearts were taped crookedly to the walls, already peeling at the corners. Someone laughed nearby, and you flinched like it was directed at you.
This is dumb, you thought for the hundredth time.
You’re dumb for even thinking this might go well.
But then Eddie Munson laughed.
It cut through the noise like it always did- loud, a little unrestrained, full of something warm and reckless that made your chest do that annoying, traitorous thing. You looked up without meaning to.
There he was, leaning against the lockers like he owned the place. Guitar case at his feet. Denim jacket. Rings glinting under the fluorescent lights.
His hair was pulled back loosely today, a few strands already slipping free, and he was talking with his hands the way he always did, animated and dramatic as Jeff and Gareth laughed along.
You’d had a crush on him for so long… too long.
Long enough that it had stopped feeling like a silly little thing and started feeling like something heavier.
Something that lived in the background of your days, every time you passed him in the hall, or watched him from afar.
Going for the freak of the town was so…you.
You were a curious being, and the big mystery of Eddie Munson fascinated you. His wild persona and unruly looks- he was handsome, no doubt to you.
But there had to be a reason why people thought he was scary, cause he doesn’t look terrifying at all.
More like a sweetheart, actually.
Besides, this could be your only chance, and Valentine’s day is the perfect way to establish a fondness for another.
If you don’t do it now, you told yourself, you never will.
Your heart started pounding as you walked toward him. Each step felt deliberate, loud in your ears. By the time you got there, Jeff and Gareth were drifting away, still mid-conversation, leaving Eddie alone with his guitar case and that easy grin.
“Uh…hi?,” he said when he noticed you, like seeing you there was the most unnatural thing in the world.
And maybe it was.
But it wasn’t like you didn’t send shy smiles his way, or mumble a hello to him when he walked by.
Your brain went blank.
You stood there for half a second too long, heat rushing to your face.
Say something. Literally anything.
“Um, hi,” you managed. Great start. “I just… I wanted to ask you something.”
He tilted his head slightly, curious, not impatient. “Yeah? What is it?”
Your fingers closed around the folded card in your pocket, your heart beating so hard it felt like it might crawl out of your throat.
You pulled it out and held it toward him, not quite meeting his eyes.
“I know this is kind of stupid,” you said quickly, words tumbling over each other before you could stop them, “and you don’t have to read it right now or anything, I just-”
He took the note anyway, eyebrows lifting in surprise, and a hint of skepticism “-Okay?”
You watched him unfold it.
Watched his eyes scan the page.
Watched his expression shift, confusion first, then something unreadable, his mouth flattening slightly as he read the last line.
You felt exposed in a way you never had before, like he could suddenly see straight through you. Like you’d handed him something fragile without any way to take it back.
For a brief, terrifying moment, he didn’t say anything.
Then he let out a small laugh.
It wasn’t cruel. Not at first. More like caught-off-guard discomfort, like he didn’t know what to do with something this sincere.
“You, uh…” he said, glancing back down at the note, then up at you. “This is just- wow.”
Your chest tightened.
You swallowed, forcing yourself to say the part you’d been building toward all day, the part that made your hands shake.
“I was just wondering,” you said softly, “if you’d want to be my Valentine?”
There it was. Out in the open. No hiding.
He blinked.
“Valentine?” he repeated, like the word itself surprised him. “As in- like, Valentine’s Day?”
You nodded, already bracing yourself.
He leaned back against the locker with a sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Oh man.”
Your stomach sank.
“Look,” he said, holding up a hand, “I don’t really do that stuff.”
Your heart dropped to your stomach, and you felt your hands clam up as you fiddled with your fingers.
You had just embarrassed yourself, it wasn’t even in front of him, it was because of him, and that was way worse.
Heat rising to your cheeks, you nodded.
“Oh,” you said quietly. “Okay.”
“It’s all just…” He gestured vaguely between the note and the hallway decorations. “You know. Capitalist propaganda. The whole thing’s a scam to sell people chocolates and cards and make ‘em feel bad if they don’t buy in.”
You forced a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Yeah. I guess.”
“And honestly,” he added, shrugging like it was nothing, “believing that love needs a specific day? Kind of dumb, don’t you think?”
The word landed heavy.
Dumb.
It echoed in your head, loud and sharp, drowning out everything else.
You felt your eyes sting immediately, panic rising as you fought it back.
Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Not here.
“Oh,” you said again, voice thinner now. “Right. Sorry. I didn’t mean-”
“It’s just not my thing,” he said, already reaching down for his guitar case, distracted. “No offense or anything.”
You nodded, because nodding was easier than speaking, then you turned before he could see your face properly, before the tears you could feel gathering had a chance to spill.
You walked fast down the hall. Faster than you meant to. The lockers blurred past as your chest tightened, breath coming a little uneven.
Behind you, Eddie watched for a second longer than he meant to, the folded note still in his hand, a strange, unsettled feeling tugging at his chest, something he didn’t have words for yet.
But you didn’t look back.
And the bell rang.
✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦
The hallways of Hawkins High felt smaller somehow, crowded, too bright, suffocating. You moved through them like a ghost, letting the strap of your backpack dig into your shoulder as if it could shield you from everything else. Your eyes stayed fixed on the scuff marks in the linoleum, anything but his face.
At first, avoiding him had been instinct. A reflex, like an animal freezing at the edge of danger. But a few days in, it became deliberate.
You passed the lockers where he usually leaned, where Jeff and Gareth traded their loud, obnoxious jokes, and you didn’t look up. Didn’t smile.
Didn’t even murmur a half-hearted ‘hi.’ like you usually did.
Every time you caught a glimpse of him across the hall, a knot tightened in your stomach. He wasn’t doing anything, really. Just standing there, leaning against the metal like it belonged to him, laughing with his friends, talking loud and easy, like the whole world was his stage.
And yet, every movement felt like a reminder. The card. Your words.
The way he’d said dumb.
Dumb.
You were dumb.
It had lodged itself behind your ribs and refused to leave, a constant, unwelcome presence. You replayed the scene over and over, like a scratched record.
It wasn’t the first time anyone had ever called you that, but coming from him, Eddie Munson, the untouchable, reckless, larger-than-life Eddie Munson, the freak of Hawkins, it cut differently.
You hated yourself for feeling hurt. For thinking about him at all this week.
You hated yourself for being curious.
You tried to tell yourself it wasn’t real, that Valentine’s Day was meaningless, a capitalist construct, and he was just proving his point.
But no amount of rationalizing could erase the sting, the way your chest had constricted when you saw his face, the confusion, maybe amusement, and then that brief, horrifying flash of pity as he realized you were about to cry.
Eddie Munson was mean. That wasn’t your fault, you just happened to pull his string at the wrong time.
But now you know better for next time.
If people don’t like somebody, there is always going to be a reason.
Somewhere across town, Eddie was having a crisis of his own.
He wasn’t used to this, this inability to just shake something off. He replayed the hallway in his head over and over, his hands twitching as if reaching for something that wasn’t there.
I didn’t mean to, he thought to himself, laying in his room. Guitar leaning against the wall, homework scattered across his desk. I didn’t mean to call her dumb. She was… gonna cry. She was really gonna cry. Shit. God, I’m an idiot.
He pulled the card from the jacket he’d tossed on his mattress, staring at it as if the words themselves could explain why his chest felt tight and weird. He turned it over in his hands, tracing the corners, the little matchsticks holding hands inside the heart.
It was cute, cheesy, sure. But Eddie couldn’t help but frown at the thought of you picking it out, maybe laughing.
The thought weighed on him. He had taken something pure, something simple and cheerful, and squashed it with words he thought were clever, words that sounded right in his head but had landed wrong.
He hadn’t meant it. He just… panicked.
Eddie wasn’t mean. He was just…consious of social norms.
He believed his words, though, valentine’s day was stupid, it was a corporal tactic to scam money off couples and deserate singles.
But it worked, despite Eddie’s lack of awareness of the appeal.
Eddie was Single, with a capital S. He’s never been interested, and no one has shown him interest.
ANd he was good with that.
Until now.
It was flattering, knowing someone wanted to be his Valentine, well, not someone.
He wouldn’t be flattered if say, Ronda from third period science wanted to be his Valentine, he’d probably be creeped out, but you?
That didn’t feel too bad, maybe even put a skip in his step.
But still.
Eddie Munson didn’t do romance.
Not relationships.
Not flings.
And not Valentine’s day.
But now she wasn’t looking at him. Not really. Didn’t smile when she passed. Didn’t wave. Didn’t even glance up.
It gnawed at him in a way he wasn’t used to. Usually, Eddie didn’t care what people thought. He thrived in chaos, in loudness, in being untouchable. But this… this was different. This wasn’t something he could charm or fight his way out of.
Meanwhile, you navigated the rest of the week like it was a maze of traps, stepping lightly, avoiding his gaze, pretending that every beat of your heart wasn’t screaming that you’d been embarrassed, that you’d been seen as something small and silly and… disposable.
Neither of you spoke. Neither of you moved toward reconciliation. But that wasn’t unusual, you guys weren’t friends at all, you never really spoke to each other.
It’s just that you were one of the few people that didn’t avoid him, who jumped in fear when you saw him.
That didn’t make you special.
You reminded yourself of that as you slid into your seat at lunch, dropping your bag at your feet and unwrapping the sandwich your mom had shoved into your hands that morning.
The cafeteria buzzed with noise, plastic trays scraping, laughter rising and falling, the low hum of a hundred conversations happening at once.
Normally, you liked sitting with your friends. It grounded you. Today, it just felt like another thing you had to get through.
“So,” Katie said, leaning across the table, eyes bright in that way that only ever showed up when she was excited about something. “What are you doing for Valentine’s Day?”
The question landed heavier than it should’ve.
You didn’t react right away, just took a bite of your sandwich and chewed slowly, buying yourself a second. Around the table, a few heads turned toward you, not suspiciously, just curious.
“Uh,” you said finally. “Nothing, I think.”
Katie frowned a little. “Nothing?”
“Well,” you added, shrugging, “my parents are going out, so I’ll probably just stay home and watch my sister. Make sure she doesn’t destroy the house.”
Across from you, Martha smiled sympathetically. “Honestly? That sounds kind of nice.”
You huffed softly. “Yeah. Real romantic.”
Katie laughed. “Hey, not everyone needs some big date or whatever.”
“Speak for yourself,” Jenna cut in, grinning as she tucked her hair behind her ear. “Marcus is taking me to the drive-in. He already told me he’s sneaking in snacks.”
“That’s cute,” you said immediately, and you meant it. You really did. You felt genuinely happy for her, even as something tight tugged at your chest.
Martha leaned back in her chair. “Peter is coming over to watch movies. Not even romantic ones. Just whatever’s on.”
Katie groaned. “Must be nice. I don’t even have a date-date. I’m just hanging out with my Danny like usual.”
They all laughed, easy and familiar, and you smiled along, nodding, asking questions, letting the conversation flow around you. You listened to details about flowers and plans and outfits, and you didn’t interrupt, didn’t withdraw, didn’t make it weird.
You were good at that. At not making things weird.
Still, every mention of Valentine’s Day felt like a tiny pinch. Not sharp. Just enough to remind you it was there.
At one point, Katie glanced at you again, head tilting slightly. “You sure you don’t wanna do something? We could all hang out or something.”
You shook your head gently. “It’s just a day. I’m okay. Really.”
And you were. Mostly. You weren’t angry anymore, just… bruised. Like the feeling hadn’t faded yet, but it wasn’t actively bleeding either.
Later, as you walked through the halls toward your next class, you caught sight of Eddie again without meaning to.
He was at the other end of the hallway, laughing loudly about something Jeff had said, head thrown back, hair falling loose around his shoulders.
You didn’t stop. Didn’t slow. Didn’t look away sharply either.
You just… didn’t react.
And that hurt more than the avoidance had.
Because Eddie noticed.
He noticed the way you passed him like he wasn’t there, not stiff, not angry, just neutral. Like you’d already decided he wasn’t worth the energy it took to feel anything.
And you had missed the way his eyes followed you to your classroom, a frown etched on his face.
✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦
Valentine’s Day didn’t announce itself the way movies said it should.
There was no dramatic shift in the air, no cinematic moment where the world suddenly felt softer or brighter.
It was just another winter afternoon in Hawkins, the sky low and gray, snow piled in dirty heaps along the edges of the sidewalks.
The kind of day where everything felt muted, like the color had been turned down.
Your parents had left not long ago, coats shrugged on in a rush, your mom calling reminders over her shoulder as your dad jingled his keys.
Dinner reservations.
“Don’t forget to lock up.” A kiss on your cheek. The door closing behind them.
And then you were alone with a four-year-old who wanted chicken nuggets for dinner and cartoons on too loud.
You were fine with it. You told yourself that more than once.
Your sister sat cross-legged on the living room rug, completely absorbed in whatever animated chaos was flickering across the TV. She clutched a stuffed rabbit by one ear, occasionally humming to herself.
You moved around the kitchen in socks, opening and closing cabinets out of habit more than need, settling into the quiet rhythm of being responsible.
It helped. Having something to do.
You tried not to think about what day it was.
Tried not to imagine lockers covered in construction-paper hearts, couples exchanging cheap candy and affections.
You were pouring apple juice for your sister into a plastic cup when the knock came.
Three knocks. Firm. Careful. Not rushed.
Your first thought was that maybe your parents had forgotten something. Your second was that maybe it was a neighbor. Your third, unwelcome and immediate, made your stomach drop.
You dried your hands on a dish towel and moved toward the door slowly, peering through the narrow glass pane.
Eddie Munson stood on your porch.
For a moment, you genuinely wondered if you were imagining him.
He looked… put together. More than you’d ever seen him at school.
His hair was still unmistakably Eddie, thick and wild, but brushed back deliberately, not just tied away.
He wore a dark button-up shirt beneath a fitted jacket, clean black jeans, boots polished enough to catch the light of the porch light.
No ripped denim. No battle vest. The rings were still there, glinting faintly, but the overall effect was… careful.
In his hands was a bouquet of flowers. Not extravagant. Thoughtful. Like he’d stood in a grocery store aisle longer than he’d care to admit.
Your heart stuttered.
You opened the door before doubt could catch up to you.
“Hey,” Eddie said, a tight, wavering smile on his lips.
No grin. No dramatic flair. Just a quiet greeting, eyes flicking over your face like he was checking for damage.
“Hi,” you replied. Your voice sounded steadier than you felt. “What are you doing here?”
He swallowed, shifting his weight. “-I was hoping I could talk to you. If that’s okay.”
You hesitated, looking back to the livingroom, where your sister remained seated on the floor.
You nodded finally, stepping aside for him and you widened the door for him
He entered carefully, like he didn’t want to disturb the space.
The house smelled like laundry detergent and microwave popcorn. Familiar. Domestic. Not somewhere Eddie Munson usually existed, not something he was often familiar with.
“These are for you,” he said, holding out the flowers.
You took them without thinking, fingers brushing his for half a second. The contact sent a strange, warm jolt up your arm.
“Thank you?” you said softly, skeptiacally.
You inspected them, bringing them up to your nose for a smell, then smiled.
They were pretty. Perfectly bloomed.
Kind gesture, though, not expected.
He nodded once, like that mattered more than he’d expected.
“I’m sorry,” he said then, straight out, no preamble. “I should’ve said it sooner. I should’ve said it better. I just didn't want to let today pass without owning it.”
You leaned against the wall, hands to your chest as you held the small bouquet, listening.
“I didn’t mean what I said,” he continued. “Not the way it came out. I talk a lot. Sometimes I don’t stop to think about who’s standing in front of me. And that day… I should’ve.”
Your chest tightened, but not painfully. Just… tenderly.
“I saw your face,” he added quietly. “And I knew I fucked up.”
You didn’t argue. You didn’t soften it for him. You just nodded.
“I don’t like Valentine’s Day,” Eddie said. “I still don’t. I think it’s forced and commercial and kind of bullshit. But that’s not an excuse to be cruel. And I was. Mean.”
He met your eyes, really met them, his eyes wide, pleading.
You didn’t have time to
“You didn’t deserve that.”
You exhaled slowly.
“I didn’t expect you to say yes,” you admitted. “I just didn’t expect to feel stupid for asking.”
His jaw tightened. “Yeah. I know.”
Silence settled between you, not awkward, just heavy with things that had finally been said.
“I still have the card,” he said after a moment.
You blinked. “You do?”
That was a surprise to you. You spent a long time imagining in the trash, maybe ripped up, maybe crushed.
But he kept it.
And you still don’t know the reason for his visit.
Going all the way out here just to apologise? You didn’t buy it.
“Yeah,” he replied. “I kept rereading it. And the more I did, the more I realized it wasn’t dumb at all. It was… nice. And I don’t get a lot of nice things without a joke attached.”
That made you frown. Enough that your grip tightened on the flowers.
“I don’t think you’re dumb,” Eddie said. “I think you were brave. And I think I panicked because I didn’t know what to do with that.”
You searched his face, looking for irony, for sarcasm. There was none.
Before you could respond, small footsteps padded into the hallway.
Your sister appeared, thumb in her mouth, a habit she can’t seem to shake, hair sticking up in places where she’d rubbed it against the couch cushion. She looked at Eddie with mild curiosity, then looked at you.
“Can I have nuggets?” she asked.
You smiled despite yourself. “Yeah. Give me a minute, ok?”
Eddie froze, then relaxed, giving the small a polite smile.
She looked a lot like you, just smaller, it was cute.
She stared at him, unimpressed, then wandered back toward the living room, the bunny dragging on the floor as she walked.
Eddie straightened slowly, realization dawning. “So I take it you’re busy.”
You shrugged. “Kind of. Yeah”
He nodded, absorbing it. Then, after a beat, he said, “I was actually hoping to ask you something.”
You raised an eyebrow.
“I now know tonight might not work,” he said quickly, glancing toward the living room. “But maybe… another night? I’d like to take you out. Properly. A post-Valentine’s day, maybe?”
Your heart warmed, slow and spreading.
But then it faded. He hated Valentine’s day, or so he said. Now he wants to go on a Valentine’s date just because you asked?
“Why? Pity?” You spat.
His eyebrows shot up, disapearing behind his bangs, then he shook his head.
“No, no, not at all- I want- I want to…Just call it a uh- a date…”
You contemplated it, weighing your options.
You’d spent the week almost hating him because he rejected you.
Now he’s asking you out, that’s all you ever wanted.
One date wouldn’t hurt, right?
I mean he went out of his way, even made himself look presentable- as much as he can be while being himself.
“ok…I’d like that,” you said fianlly.
Relief crossed his face so clearly it made you smile.
He looked so cute like that, he looked almost peaceful.
“Great, uh- oh-”
Eddie felt a tug on his leg and looked down, finding your sister craning her neck to look up at him with a shy smile.
It warmed his heart.
“Hello” He cooed, looking over at you before looking back down at her.
“Hi” she beamed “stay, watch movies”
He cocked his eyebrow, his mouth making an o shape as he tried to find an answer.
The boy blinked, his eyes flickering back to you.
You sense his hesitation, and lean down to her level, reaching for her arm.
“He can’t stay, he’s gotta go home, ok? Maybe next time” Your eyes found his “Right, Eddie?”
He nodded, looking back down at the small girl.
She looked saddened, her eyes wide and a pout set on her lips.
“Of course, yeah, sure” He assured her, hearing her sniffles.
“Ok”
She waddled off, looking back at him before waving “bye”
“Bye-bye” Eddie grinned, giving her a scrunched hand before she disappeared behind the wall.
“Sorry, she likes meeting new people”
“It’s fine, she’s cute”
You hummed, a proud smile on your face before you sighed
“Well, um…”
“Yeah, well- I should go then.. Uh- are you- is tomorrow ok?” He stammered, fixing his jacket.
“Tomorrow?” You wondered, your eyebrows furrowed
“Sorry, can I- If you’re free tomorrow, uh- take you…out?” He replied nervously.
“Oh” you gaped “yeah, I’m free!”
“Ok, great…so I’ll see you then, maybe six? Six thirty?”
✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦
By the time you reached the fifth hole, the initial awkwardness had softened into something almost comfortable.
Not gone, never fully gone, but loosened.
Like a jacket you’d finally unbuttoned after wearing it too tight all day.
The mini golf course was lit with flickering string lights strung between wooden posts, the bulbs casting a warm, slightly uneven glow over the fake grass and painted obstacles.
Somewhere nearby, a speaker crackled out a tinny rock song you vaguely recognized, the sound mixing with the dull thwack! of golf balls and the laughter of other couples scattered around the course.
Eddie stood a few feet away from you, club resting against his shoulder like it belonged there, leather jacket pushed back just enough to show the dark shirt underneath. He looked… relaxed.
More relaxed than you’d ever seen him at school.
And you were acutely aware of how close he was standing.
“Alright,” he said, peering down at the hole with exaggerated seriousness. “This one’s tricky. Don’t let it fool you. That little windmill is a menace.”
You snorted before you could stop yourself. “It’s a wooden windmill, Eddie.”
“Yeah, and?” He shot you a look. “So was the Trojan Horse.”
You shook your head, smiling despite yourself as you stepped up to take your turn, biting back a laugh.
The club felt awkward in your hands, your grip a little too tight.
You lined up the shot, eyes flicking between the ball and the hole.
You could feel him watching- not in a way that made you self-conscious exactly, but aware.
Present.
“Okay,” Eddie said, lowering his voice like he was letting you in on a secret. “Little tip. The grass here curves slightly to the left. So aim just right of the windmill.”
You glanced at him. “You’re just saying that to mess with me.”
He placed a hand over his chest, affronted. “I would never sabotage you. I’m a gentleman.”
“Since when?”
“Since tonight,” he said easily, grinning.
He’d been at this the whole night, trying to be tricky as he advised you how to putt.
And you believed him the first time after telling you he’d be here before, only to end up in the small decorative river beside the green, him cackling behind you.
You didn’t listen to him after that.
You rolled your eyes and took the shot.
The ball rolled forward, bumped the base of the windmill, veered left, and dropped cleanly into the hole.
You blinked. Once. Twice.
Then you straightened, turning toward him with a triumphant smile you didn’t bother hiding. “Did you see that?”
Eddie stared at the hole, then at you, his mouth falling open. “No way.”
“Yes way.”
“You’re kidding.”
You lifted your shoulders in a small shrug, trying to play it cool and failing miserably. “Beginner’s luck.”
He let out a laugh, loud and genuine, the sound doing something warm and fluttery in your chest. “Okay. Alright. I respect it.”
He stepped aside, gesturing grandly. “Lead the way, champ.”
You walked past him toward the next hole, feeling lighter than you had in days. Maybe weeks.
Behind you, Eddie watched you go, expression soft in a way he wasn’t aware of.
He felt… good. Not wired, not defensive, not putting on a show. Just good. Like this was exactly where he was supposed to be, under cheap lights on a tacky course, watching you smile like you’d just won something.
He shook his head slightly and followed.
By the seventh hole, the teasing had escalated.
“This course is rigged,” Eddie declared after his ball bounced dramatically off a plastic castle turret and landed nowhere near the hole. “Absolutely rigged.”
You bit your lip to keep from laughing. “Uh-huh. Or maybe you’re just not as good as you think you are.”
He gasped. “Wow. Betrayal already?”
“You started it,” you said, nudging his arm lightly with your elbow.
The contact was brief, barely there, but it lingered anyway. He glanced down at you, eyebrows lifting, and you suddenly became very aware of how close your arm was to his.
“Well,” he said, recovering quickly, “if we’re keeping score- and I am, by the way- you’re only ahead by two.”
“Still ahead,” you replied.
“For now.”
Giggling, you stepped up to the next hole, this one looping uphill with a narrow ramp.
You squinted at it, doubtful. “There’s no way.”
“That’s what they want you to think,” Eddie said. “Psychological warfare.”
You glanced at him. “You take mini golf very seriously.”
“I take everything very seriously,” he said solemnly, then immediately ruined it with a crooked grin. “Except the things I probably should.”
You smiled, then focused on the shot.
The ball rolled up the ramp, slowed… slowed…
And stopped just short of the hole.
You groaned softly. “No.” dragging out the syllables, you huffed
Eddie leaned in slightly. “Tragic. Absolutely tragic.”
“You’re enjoying this.”
“Immensely.”
You stepped back, crossing your arms. “Your turn, oh great golf master.”
He stepped forward, planting his feet with exaggerated care. “Observe.”
He took the shot.
The ball shot forward, overshot the hole entirely, and bounced off the side rail with a dull clack.
You burst out laughing.
Eddie stared at it, then looked back at you. “Okay. So maybe the course is cursed.”
“Sure,” you said, still smiling. “That must be it.”
You moved to the bench nearby to jot down the scores, the clipboard balanced awkwardly on your knee.
Eddie leaned over your shoulder, close enough that you could smell his cologne, something warm and slightly smoky.
“You’re writing that a little too confidently,” he said.
“I earned it.”
He hummed thoughtfully. “You know, if this keeps up, I might have to challenge you to a rematch.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. Winner gets…” He trailed off, pretending to think. “Bragging rights.”
“Wow,” you said dryly. “High stakes.”
He laughed, straightening. “Hey, you gotta start somewhere.”
As you moved on, the space between you seemed to shrink without either of you meaning it to.
Your shoulders brushed once. Then again. At one point, Eddie reached past you to grab a spare golf ball on a stall, his arm briefly caging you in, and you had to remind yourself how to breathe.
You wondered, distantly, if he noticed the same things you did. The way your heart sped up when he smiled at you like that. The way his voice softened when he said your name.
At the tenth hole, shaped like a ridiculous pink dinosaur, Eddie stopped short, staring at it.
“Okay,” he said slowly. “This is the dumbest thing I’ve ever seen.”
“You love it,” you said.
“I do not.”
“You absolutely do.”
He snorted. “Fine. Maybe a little.”
You went first this time, your shot curving neatly around the dinosaur’s tail and into the hole. You lifted your hands in a small, victorious gesture.
“Yes!”
Eddie clapped exaggeratedly. “Unbelievable. Truly. I’m being hustled.”
“Maybe you’re just distracted.”
“By what?”
You met his eyes, holding them for half a second longer than necessary.
“I don’t know,” you said lightly. “Could be anything.”
Something flickered in his expression, surprise, maybe, followed by something warmer. He smiled slowly, his dimples making a cute appearance.
“Yeah,” he said. “Maybe.”
He took his turn, sinking the shot with ease this time. “See? Still got it.”
“Barely.”
As the game went on, the nerves that had twisted in your stomach earlier faded into something else entirely. Comfort. Excitement. The quiet thrill of realizing this wasn’t just going okay, it was good.
You laughed more than you had in a long time. He teased you, but gently, like he was careful not to cross some invisible line. When he complimented you, it was offhand, unforced.
“You’ve got a killer aim,” he said at one point.
You raised an eyebrow. “At mini golf?”
“Hey, skill is skill.”
By the final hole, the air felt charged in a way you couldn’t quite name.
The lights buzzed softly overhead. The course had thinned out, other couples drifting toward the exit.
Eddie stood beside you, closer than before, his arm brushing yours every so often like neither of you noticed, but you both did.
You lined up your last shot, heart thudding. You missed, just barely, the ball rolling past the hole.
You sighed. “Guess that’s it.”
Eddie stepped up, glancing at the scorecard. “If I make this, it’s a tie.”
“No pressure.”
He smirked. “Watch and learn.”
The ball rolled forward, tapped the edge…and dropped in.
He froze for a second, then let out a triumphant laugh, throwing his hands up. “Yes!”
You groaned. “Of course. That’s just perfect!”
He turned to you, eyes bright. “Tie game.”
You smiled back, something soft settling in your chest. “Guess that means a rematch.”
He tilted his head, studying you. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “I’d like that.”
The words lingered between you, warm and promising.
And for the first time in a while, you didn’t feel dumb for hoping.
“Yeah, I bet you would” You bumped your shoulder against his, shaking your head making him laugh.
He wrapped his arm around your shoulder before you could lean away, rubbing your arm gently “anything to settle the score”
Your breath hitched at the contact, his musky smell overwhelming your nose.
Cigarettes, wood, leather and something you can’t quite place.
It smells toxic, the good kind, making you feel dizzy.
He smelled so good, you couldn’t help but lean in closer under his arm, tucking yourself into his armpit.
He led you to the exit, taking your club and hanging it back up, then pointed to the food stalls “snow cone?”
You looked over, shrugging “sure”
Eddie hummed, pulling away from you “A’right, I’ll be right back”
He left you by the gate as he went over, only coming back a few moments after, two cups of icy slurry.
“They only had cups, weirdly” He frowned, holding out a blue and red cup for you to choose.
You took the blue, smiling at him “s’alright, thanks”
You took the spoon and dug into the cup, bringing it to your lips as he began walking back to his van in the parking lot.
You fell in stride with him, barely noticing the way his hand ghosted over your lower back.
“Well, I had fun,” He said after a moment of silence.
You beamed to yourself, nodding “Yeah, I had a good time”
Taking another spoonful, you winced, the cold slurry finding space in your head.
“You alright?”
You hummed, blinking as you reached the van. “Brainfreeze”
“Sucks, maybe don’t eat it so fast next time” He chuckled, placing his cup on the hood of his vehicle.
“So there is a next time?”
He frowned at you, stepping closer as you leaned against the side, right by the door reerview mirror “Thought that was established?”
“Oh, well I mean-” your words died on your tongue as his fingers found your jacket zipper, pinching the fabric together.
Your eyes searched his, but his were focused on your puffer jacket, now slowly dragging up your torso, zipping it up all the way to the top.
“You mean what?”
You shook your head, mumbling to yourself
Focus.
“Nothing…I’m just glad”
“Yeah?”
You nodded sheepishly as he took another step forward “yep”
He looked down at your cup, teaching his hand for yours, noticing the cold temperature of your hands.
“How’s blue raspberry taste?” he questioned, his breath now fanning your face.
“Good” you mumbled.
“Can I have a taste? I’ll use my spoon” He asked.
You looked back down at your cup, feeling yourself flush hot.
He did pay for it.
You nodded “yeah, sure”
He took the cup from your hands, leaning behind you until you heard a soft tap on paper on the metal.
You gulped as his face came close to yours, his nose bumping yours.
“I’m going to kiss you now, if that wasn’t clear” He murmured softly, his hand finding a place between your waist and hip, making you feel weak in the knees.
“Ok” You squeaked, your eyes fluttering closed as he leaned closer.
His lips were warm, enough to ease the freeze of your brain nicely.
And just as he leaned in, he backed away “is that ok?”
You nodded frantically, reaching up to hold onto his leather jacket and bringing him back in “yes, please”
He smiled against your lips, tugging your body closer to his.
You kissed him softly, letting him take the lead as he tilted his face, deepening the action until you hummed.
Your lips moved against his in a perfect synchronization, his nose bumping yours, making you giggle.
Summary: robin gets dragged to a party by steve and after meeting a girl, she somehow gets dragged into a game of spin the bottle with her.
Warnings: she/her pronouns used on reader, use of 'Y/N', mentions of drinking & other party stuff !!
Notes: trust, i know how overdone this prompt is but i had to give it a try myself!!
Word count: 1.5k
Part two out this sunday!
⸻⊱༺
Robin found herself drinking fruit punch out of her very own red solo cup, leaning against a wall in the kitchen of a house she’d never been in, surrounded by loud music and drunk teens. She rolled her eyes at the thought of Steve, who had dragged her in there, yet wasn’t even in her sight anymore.
She was bored… too bored – so bored she was so lost in her own daydreaming & didn’t immediately notice the girl that had approached her side.
“Dude, I love your rings,” She spoke, snapping Robin out of her thoughts. Robin’s eyes widened as her eyebrows shot up in surprise, her mouth falling agape before she even had the courage to look at the person who had just spoken.
“Oh, uh, sorry, thanks,” Robin breathed out, meeting the girl’s gaze, clearing her throat before continuing, “I found them all at this really cool flea market a while ago."
“Nice,” The girl nodded, “Did you come here alone? Or–”
“No,” Robin shook her head, “I came here with a friend. He found his own crowd, I kind of stepped away and disappeared into this whole party mess alone, I guess.”
“Cool, cool…”
Robin felt like smacking herself for being so bad at small talk. It didn’t make it easier that the girl was… pretty. Really pretty. She wore dark eyeliner and had rings herself, she carried her own red solo cup which, Robin noticed, too held fruit punch over crappy beer.
“Did you come here with anyone?” Robin continued, something in her really didn’t want to let the conversation end.
“Yeah,” She softly laughed, “She’s off with her own crowd too, I guess. She dragged me here, this is… not my first choice on how to spend a Friday night.”
Robin laughed, “I’m not much of a party person either… There is so much happening. Too many people making out, and too many crappy drink choices. The only good thing is this fruit punch… which I still do not trust entirely.”
“Tell me about it,” The girl chuckled as she looked down at her own fruit punch in disgust, but proceeded to take a sip out of it anyway.
The loud music and chatter continued as they stood in silence, looking around the kitchen. Robin still had her back against the wall, the girl leaned her right arm against that same wall, facing Robin.
“So uh,” The girl said, “I didn’t quite catch your name…”
“I’m Robin.” She said, as she felt her face grow red as she spoke, "Nice to meet you,"
“You’ve got a pretty name, Robin,” She spoke, a flirty grin tugging at her lips, “I’m Y/N. Nice to meet you too.”
“Thanks.” Robin smiled shyly, absolutely sure her face was as red as a tomato now. Before their conversation could go on further, a girl barged into the kitchen.
“Oh my gosh,” She laughed, clearly a little drunk, as she hugged Y/N from behind, “Where have you been? I have missed you, I’ve been having so much fun!”
“Maybe too much fun,” She breathed out, apologetically smiling at Robin and patting her friend’s hands sweetly as they wrapped around her shoulders, “Are you ready to go home or what?”
“No, you idiot,” Her friend said as she broke away from the hug and grabbed Y/N’s hand, “I was looking for you, we’re about to play spin the bottle and you have to come with me.”
“Jeez, what are you, twelve? I’m not doing that. You can go, if you need me I’ll be here.”
“Come on! You can bring your friend here too,” She laughed, quickly grabbing Robin’s hand, leading both reluctant girls to God-knows-where in the house.
They followed behind, no longer being dragged, but both clearly not in the mood to play spin the bottle. “I am so sorry,” Y/N apologized to Robin as they followed, “I think the bathroom is near here, if you want, I can slip you in there and you’ll get away.”
“I mean, it can't be that bad? Right?” Robin laughed nervously, “If anything I can just sit on the sidelines and cheer you on?”
They were quickly swept into the mess of the game, thanks to some guy who had taken it upon himself to organize everyone. Without asking, he’d split them up and shoved them into a circle—Y/N & Robin now sitting almost directly across from the other.
Both girls narrowly survived a couple of rounds, avoiding being forced into a kiss with some random guy, each round their nerves growing… If only Steve knew what she was up to, he’d be laughing uncontrollably. The game went on for a while, and once one of the guys felt it was getting boring, he proposed a ‘crazy’ round: 7 minutes in heaven. The guy pointed at a tiny closet at the end of the hall, which he claimed was ‘perfect to kick things off’.
Robin officially wanted out, there was no way in hell she was about to spend a single minute in a tiny closet with a guy. She felt her chest tighten as they spun the glass bottle, she watched it slow down… and point at her. Her eyes widened as she looked up to meet the eyes of who the other end of the bottle had pointed at: Y/N.
Her chest tightened as she realized she was about to spend 7 minutes in a closet with a girl she barely knew. The idea of being alone with her both thrilled and terrified her…
Everyone in the room went crazy, some clearly disgusted, and some morbidly interested. Before they could verbally agree to do it, they were both getting dragged by the people in the room and shoved in the closet together.
Robin shifted awkwardly, hands shoved into her pockets, as the silence pressed down on them. Y/N’s eyes flickered toward her, and she let out a soft laugh, clearly just as uncomfortable.
“So… this is fun, huh?” The girl said, trying to make light of the situation, but her voice faltered just a little. Robin’s lips twitched into something that could’ve been a smile—or just a nervous reflex, “Sorry I dragged you into this mess.”
Robin laughed nervously, “Maybe I should’ve just hidden in the bathroom like you suggested.”
The silence between them stretched longer than either of them expected. Robin fidgeted with the hem of her shirt, glancing anywhere but at Y/N, who was mirroring her own awkward energy. She wanted to say something, but for a second, she couldn’t think of what to say. The air was thick—too thick for small talk, too thick for anything else.
"I, uh... really like your eyeliner," she blurted out softly, then quickly added, "I mean, it’s really good. It's very… pretty."
Y/N laughed softly, her cheeks flushing slightly at the compliment. "Thanks,” She breathed out, “Probably the only good thing to come out of tonight.”
"Yeah… this closet is definitely smaller than I expected," Robin said, giving a small, dry laugh. "I thought I’d have room to breathe in here, but it’s like... two steps away from a sauna."
They continued their quiet talk for some time, apologizing each time they’d accidentally bump into each other and laughing it off.
Suddenly, it went quiet again… a different kind of quiet though. They locked eyes for a little, both feeling their faces growing hot without breaking eye contact. Out of the blue, Y/N glanced at Robin’s lips. It was fast – almost imperceptible. Robin caught it though. And her heart almost leapt out of her chest.
“You know,” Y/N laughed awkwardly, “We could probably sneak out of here. They’ve probably forgotten about us anyway.” Quickly changing the subject as she opened the door slightly and stared out.
“I mean, I wouldn’t mind getting out of here,” Robin laughed nervously.
Before she could say anything else, Y/N took her hand in hers, pulling her along, threading through the crowd finding their way out. They both rushed down the stairs without a word. They ended outside on the porch, still hand in hand.
Both girls glanced down and realized they were still holding onto each other, making eye contact, their faces flushing as their hands lingered for a moment before they both pulled away at the same time.
They stood there, the quiet of the porch settling around them. Robin could feel the tension between them, the lingering closeness. She was just about to say something when—
The door swung open, and Steve appeared, looking around. “Robin! I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”
Robin jumped slightly, her heart racing for a different reason now. She quickly turned to him, straightening up, trying to mask how flustered she felt. “Well,” she started awkwardly, rubbing the back of her neck, “I guess that’s my cue. I should probably... uh, go."
Y/N smiled, her eyes twinkling. “I’m good, don’t worry about me.” She gave Robin a wink, and Robin froze for a moment, heart skipping a beat. Before she could get lost in it, Steve was already beside her, giving her a playful nudge.
“Alright, let's get going,” Steve said, starting to lead her away, Robin settling for waving at the girl goodbye. But as they walked a few steps, his tone softened. “So, how was your night? Everything going okay?”
Robin let out a relieved sigh, thankful for the change in topic. “Uh, yeah, fine.” Slightly smiling at herself, basking in the memory of what had just happened.
💬 0 🔁 1 ❤️ 20 · Roll for Patience🎲 · Eddie Munson x Reader (Part 1)
Summary - Slow-burn romance in 1986 Hawkins. A new girl transfers to
Part 1 here🤍
Summary - Slow-burn romance in 1986 Hawkins. A new girl transfers to Hawkins High, catching the attention of Eddie Munson and the patient game of hearts begins.
Fluff, slow-burn, no Vecna. Just Hawkins, Hellfire, and a new girl. Definitely ooc but I’m trying🤍
Word Count - Around 820
Song Inspiration - Come Said The Boy by Mondo Rock released in 1984
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Hawkins didn’t feel real yet.
It felt borrowed, like a place you were staying temporarily, waiting for someone to tap you on the shoulder and say there’d been a mistake. But the house said otherwise.
It sat just two streets over from Dustin Henderson’s, a modest little place with peeling white paint, a beaten up porch step, and a backyard that desperately needed mowing. It wasn’t big. It wasn’t fancy. But it was yours. Bought outright with your grandparents’ inheritance. Money that still felt strange in your hands, heavy with memory.
You stood in the empty living room the first night, boxes stacked unevenly around you, the hum of the fridge echoing through the space.
Alone.
Not lonely. Just… alone.
There was something freeing about it.
The next morning, your doorbell rang at exactly 9:03 a.m.
You opened it to find Dustin Henderson on your porch, beaming like he’d just won the lottery.
“You live here,” he said, staring past you like the house might disappear. “Like—actually live here.”
“Yes, Dustin,” you said dryly. “That’s what buying a house means.”
“This is so cool,” he breathed. “You’re basically my neighbor. We can walk to school together. And—oh! Oh!” He snapped his fingers. “You have to meet Steve.”
That was how you ended up at Family Video two days later.
Steve Harrington leaned against the counter like it was a personality trait, arms crossed, sunglasses perched on his head even though it was indoors. Robin Buckley was mid-rant behind the register, gesturing wildly with a VHS tape.
“So then he says-” Robin stopped when she saw you. “Oh. New human.”
“This is my friend,” Dustin announced proudly. “She just moved here. She’s graduating this year. She’s cool.”
Steve squinted at you. “Dustin thinks everyone’s cool.”
Robin leaned over the counter. “You seem normal enough. That’s rare.”
You laughed despite yourself.
By the end of the week, you had a job.
Minimum wage, sticky floors, rewinding tapes—but it was yours. Steve showed you how not to jam the rewinder, Robin taught you how to spot bad customers, and Dustin visited so often Steve threatened to charge him rent.
School settled into something almost comfortable.
Your classes weren’t bad. You made friends quicker than you expected—girls who shared notes with you, a guy in English who lent you a pen and never asked for it back, people who didn’t treat you like a ghost or a spectacle.
You sat with them sometimes.
But most days, you still ended up at the Hellfire table.
Eddie Munson didn’t say much to you. Not really. He watched. Leaned back. Listened when you spoke, even when you weren’t speaking to him. Sometimes your eyes would meet across the table his dark, curious, unreadable and he’d look away first.
Dustin noticed everything.
“You know,” he said one afternoon as you walked home together, backpacks slung over your shoulders, “Eddie doesn’t usually like new people.”
“I hadn’t noticed,” you replied.
Dustin grinned. “That’s because he does.”
You rolled your eyes, but your stomach did something annoying anyway.
At night, your house felt quieter. You cooked simple meals, listened to the radio, unpacked box by box. Sometimes you sat on the porch steps and watched the streetlights flicker on, the neighborhood settling around you like it was deciding whether to accept you.
So far, it seemed to be leaning yes.
And somewhere between late shifts at Family Video, lunch table dice rolls, and Dustin knocking on your door like it was his own, you realized something important.
You weren’t just passing through Hawkins.
You were building a life here.
Sometimes you missed your old friends, your old life. Yet a part of you was happy to move on.
And Eddie Munson, whether he meant to or not, was already part of it.
—————————————————————————
Authors note: This was actually really fun to write. Some of the chapters are already lined up in my notes app so they just need to be edited.🤍🤍
I’m trying to make Eddie x Reader a slowburn and actually pace it out. So let me know what you guys think!
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Summary - Slow-burn romance in 1986 Hawkins. A new girl transfers to Hawkins High, catching the attention of Eddie Munson and the patient game of hearts begins.
Fluff, slow-burn, no Vecna. Just Hawkins, Hellfire, and a new girl. Definitely ooc but I’m trying🤍
Word count: around 900
Song inspiration - (I Just) Died in Your Arms by Cutting Crew released in 1986🤍🤍
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Hawkins High smells like floor cleaner and old paper.
It’s the first thing you notice when you step through the front doors, schedule folded tight in your hand. The building feels settled, comfortable in the way only a place that never changes can be. Everyone moves like they already know where they’re going.
You don’t.
Mid-semester transfers stick out. You can feel it in the way a few people glance up from their lockers, eyes lingering just long enough to register you as new.
You keep walking.
Your first class is Advanced English. Senior-level, according to your schedule, though when you step inside, it’s immediately clear that “senior-level” is more of a suggestion than a rule. A few younger students sit scattered between older ones, books already open, notebooks half-filled.
The bell rings just as you reach the door.
“Ah yes?” the teacher says, looking up. “You must be the transfer.”
You give him your name. He nods, scans the room, then gestures toward an empty desk.
“Take the open seat. Next to Henderson.”
The boy beside the desk turns around immediately, curls bouncing as he grins at you.
“Hi,” he whispers, like he’s been waiting all day. “I’m Dustin. You’re new.”
You set your bag down and slide into the chair. “That obvious? I’m (Your Name) by the way.”
“A little,” he admits. “But that’s okay. New is good. Where’d you come from?”
He asks it like he genuinely wants to know.
You answer quietly. He listens—actually listens—nodding along, asking follow-up questions, reacting like your answers matter. When the teacher starts talking, Dustin keeps leaning over to whisper commentary about the book, the class, and the unfairness of pop quizzes.
You don’t mind.
By the end of the period, he’s already filled you in on:
which teachers are strict
which ones don’t care
and which bathrooms to avoid
When the bell rings, Dustin packs up fast.
“So,” he says, slinging his backpack over one shoulder, “what’re you doing for lunch?”
You hesitate. You hadn’t really thought about it.
“I don’t know yet.”
“Well,” he says brightly, “you don’t have to sit alone. You can if you want, but you don’t have to. We sit in the corner.”
“We?”
“My friends,” he says. Then, after a pause: “They’re… different. But they’re cool. Promise.”
The cafeteria is loud in a way that makes your head buzz. Trays clatter, chairs scrape, and the room hums with conversation layered on conversation. You follow Dustin past the centre tables, past the popular kids and the athletes, all the way to the far corner.
That’s where you see him.
Eddie Munson looks older than everyone else in the room and not just because he is. He’s leaned back in his chair, boots stretched out, dark hair falling into his eyes as he laughs at something one of the others says. He looks comfortable here, like the corner belongs to him.
Around him were his friends: Mike, Dustin, Lucas, Gareth, Jeff… and Randy, a quiet kid with a crooked grin and a notebook full of dice rolls.
“This is Hellfire,” Dustin said, gesturing to the group. “That’s Eddie, Mike, Lucas, Gareth, Jeff… and Randy.”
You offered a tentative smile. Mike nodded at you with a friendly grin. Lucas gave a small, evaluating raise of his eyebrow. Gareth and Jeff glanced over, shrugging slightly. Grant peeked up from his notebook, curiosity written across his face. Eddie’s eyes lingered on you, sharp and unreadable.
Sharp. Curious. Immediately guarded.
“What’s this?” he asks, nodding toward you.
Dustin doesn’t hesitate. “This is (Your Name). She transferred.”
Eddie’s gaze lingers. He takes you in slowly, like he’s checking for a trick.
“And why,” Eddie says carefully, “is she sitting with us?”
You answer before Dustin can. “If that’s an issue, I can move. I don’t want to disturb you guys.”
Your voice stays even. You’re not offended, just practical.
That seems to catch Eddie off guard.
He studies you again, brows knitting slightly, like he can’t quite figure you out. Dustin looks between the two of you, clearly concerned.
“No! She can stay,” Dustin insists.
Eddie exhales through his nose. “Relax. I’m not kicking her out.” He gestures lazily at the empty chair. “Sit if you want. Your funeral.”
It’s not welcoming.
But it’s not rejection either.
You sit.
Conversation resumes in pieces. Dice appear. Someone complains about a campaign. Eddie leans forward despite himself, voice animated as he launches into an argument about rules and strategy.
You don’t understand everything they’re talking about.
But you understand passion.
You understand the way Eddie’s voice changes when he talks about something he loves. You laugh when he makes a ridiculous sound effect—quietly, genuinely.
Eddie notices.
Later, someone at a nearby table mutters something under their breath. Eddie stiffens instantly, shoulders tightening.
You don’t react.
You keep listening to Dustin talk about radios and science camp and something that went wrong with a soldering iron.
That’s what finally shifts something.
When the bell rings, Eddie stands first. He grabs his jacket, slinging it over his shoulder, then pauses.
“You graduating this year?” he asks, almost casually.
“Yes.”
“Huh.” He nods. “Hawkins doesn’t usually let people leave without a fight.”
You shrug. “Guess I’ll see.”
Eddie watches you for a second longer than necessary.
“Yeah,” he says quietly. “Guess you will.”
As you walk out with Dustin, you feel it—that subtle change.
You’re still new.
Still an outsider.
But now, you’ve been noticed.
And in Hawkins, that means everything.
—————————————————————————
Authors Note - yes I knows it’s very short but this is my first x reader chapter ever so bare with me😮💨
As I said before definitely ooc.
A few notes - Grant is the name I’ve given to “Freak 1” who is the guy that Eddie is talking to in this scene. (It’s the actors name so why not.)
There is also no vecna, upside down, or even Henry creel in this story, just a 1980s love story.
I would love some Eddie headcanons and any ideas you guys may have🤍
Synopsis: Mike has a crush on Eleven, but she can’t date him until her blunt, hardheaded, spit fire sister gets a boyfriend. So, why doesn’t he help her out?
A hate to love to hate to love again story where Mike gets Steve to pay Eddie “the freak” Munson to date Hopper! reader. What could go wrong?
A/N: I did. it spesify whether or not readers is adopted or not! This chapter is also mostly about Mike and Jane’s relationship sorry guys😬 This story fallows the plot of 10 things a hate about you semi loosely bc i hate fics based off book/movies that are straight copy and paste of the whole script😭😭 This is also cannon divergent also sorry to all the byler fans💔 No usage of y/n
Word count: 1.3k
Series Master list
Everyone knows that James Hopper Jr is insane, especially when it comes to his daughters. Unfortunately, Mike Wheeler is also crazy for James Hopper's daughter, Jane Hopper.
It was like love at first sight.
The hallway to Hawkins High was always crowded, friends talking usually about what they're going to do when they get home, the ‘cool kids’ shoving ‘nerds’ into the locker, and couples making out right in front of places you need to go. Hawkins High was hell. At least it was lunch, where you get the bonus of walking around the campus.
“So, have you met anyone new in your class?” Dustin asks, sitting down next to Mike at their designated lunch table, near the back of the cafeteria.
“No, I can’t believe you share classes with Will and Lucas! That is so not fair! " Plus, everyone in my class is so boring,” Mike sighs as he begins to play with his food.
Lucas sits in the seat across from the two boys.
“Well, at least you don’t share a class with Angela, I mean, yeah, she’s pretty, but she’s a bitch” Lucas butts in
“Well, at least we have Jane, 2nd period, she’s pretty nice,” Dustin says
“Who’s Jane?” Mike asks, glancing up from his food
As if the world had heard his question, the green and white cafeteria doors swung open. Mike's heart stops as the beautiful brown haired, brown-haired girl walks- no, glides into the cafeteria, sitting at a table away from the boys.
It’s like she was glowing. The rest of the boys in the school think she’s a freak that lives in a cabin with her crazy dad and bitchy sister.
To Mike, she was the most stunning, radiant, breathtaking, angelic girl he had ever laid his eyes upon.
It was like he was in a trance, that was until he was snapped- quite literally, snapped out of it by Dustin (who has been trying to get his attention for about 5 minutes)
“Dude, earth to Mike! wakey wakey!”
He blinks, “Who is that?”
“Jane Hopper, like we were saying before, she’s really nice and totally unavailable to any men alive,” Lucas says
“Her dad's Chief Jim Hopper”
“So?” Mike questions, rolling his eyes.
“So, that means he’ll kill any man who even thinks about getting with her! Not only that, but her sister is crazy! Hot, yeah, but absolutely crazy!” Dustin exclaims slamming his hands on the table for dramatic effect, but Mike was not listening.
“How-“ But before he could finish, the lunch bell rang
During his final class, the only thing Mike could think about was Jane. It was driving him crazy! I mean, yeah, his dad’s strict, but would he really kill him for dating her? Would her sister kill him? How is her sister crazy? Who is her sister? If she came from a family of ‘freaks,’ then how is Jane such a saint? I mean, she’s gorgeous! How could men not be in love with her!
After the final bell, Mike meets up with Dustin and Lucas at Lucas’ locker because it is the closet.
Dustin was talking to Mike's ear off as they walked to his locker, something about a new D&D club called ‘Hellfire’. But Mike didn’t care that much, because all he cared about right now was Jane. That was until he heard a girlish yelp and a thud. Finally out of his trance, Mike sees his books on the floor and some beat-up black Mary Janes.
“Oh shit! Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention,” Mike apologizes, looking up to see Jane Hopper herself.
“It’s ok, I wasn’t paying attention either,” Jane says, crouching down, “let me help you pick up your books.”
Mike's heart was racing as he watched her pick up his things.
“Hey, I uh- I see you around school a lot, your name's Jane, right? Your- your Hopper's daughter!” Mike stutters
“Yes, you're Mike, right?”
“Yeah! Hey, I was- uhm, wondering if you- don’t wanna study- or help me with my homework! This weekend? At the uh library” Mike spits out, fumbling over his words
Jane giggles, handing Mike his books. “Are you asking me for a study date, Mike?”
“Yeah! No! Do you- Uh, do you want it to be?” Mike felt like he could cry, and he didn’t even know if it was out of embarrassment or pure nervousness. Most likely both.
“Sure, I’ll ask my dad.”
“Ok! Cool! I’ll see you then!” Mike cheerfully says.
Just as they both begin to say their goodbyes, they hear someone yell Jane’s name.
“Jane! Stop flirting with your little boyfriend! Get your stuff and hop in the car! I’ve been waiting for like, 5 minutes!” The older-looking girl complains.
“Coming!” Jane says, “Bye, Mike, see you later.” She says in an octave above a whisper, as she quickly spins on her heel and leaves with the mysterious older girl
Mike was standing there like a statue, stunned in confusion, disbelief, excitement, and nervousness; his palms felt like they were submerged in water.
“Dude, who was that?” Were the only thing Mike was able to spit out, still looking at where Jane once was.
“That is your little girlfriend's sister,” Lucas says, resting his arm on Mike’s shoulder.
Dustin says your name like it leaves a bad taste in his mouth
“She’s evil, dude, evil! Like one time, I was with the hellfire club at lunch, and Jeff tried to flirt with her, and she just opened a carton of milk and poured it all over his lap!” Dustin exclaims, throwing his hands in the air, “She even looked him dead in the eyes while doing it!”
Lucas nods, “Yeah, she cussed out Carter once because he made a dumb joke about her outfit, told him that’s why he’s going to grow up to be nothing but ‘a fat unemployed junky trying desperately to chase his high school fame’ that girl is crazy.”
Finally arriving at their little cabin in the woods, Jane was the first one to get out of her sister's car, rushing excitedly to the door.
“Hey, honey, how was your day?” Hopper asks as Jane gives him a big hug
“Good”
You sit on the couch, pulling volume one of Wonder Woman by George Pèrez out of your purse.
Hopper turns to you, “Did you make anyone cry?” he asks
“No, it’s only 3:00,” you reply as Hopper smirks and ruffles your hair
“Hop, can I go study with a friend this weekend?” Jane asks
“Friend?” you question, raising a brow, “You mean that little boy you were talking to?”
“Little boy?!” Hopper yells, "You want to go on a date with some boy?!”
Jane's eyes go wide as she blushes, “No! Hop! He’s- he’s just a-“
Hopper sighs, “Friend or not, the answer is no, you know the house rules!” He sticks up his pinky
“Rule number one: no dating.” He sticks up his ring finger
“Rule number two: no dating.” He sticks up his middle finger
“And rule number three: no dating!”
Jane whines as she slumps down on the couch, “But Hop! That’s not fair! How come everyone gets to date except for me!”
“Not everyone dates; your sister doesn’t.” Hopper shrugs
“That’s because she’s a bitch! Or at least that’s what everyone in the school calls her.”
You gasp, “Well, at least I’m not trying to sell myself to some boy I just met!”
“Ladies! Ladies!” Hopper shouts, and the cabin goes quiet, both the girls glaring at their father.
“How about this, Jane can date-“
The two girls gasp, Jane in happiness, and you in shock
“-when your sister does.”
Jane stands up in pure shock and anger, “but hop!-“
“If your sister doesn’t get a date, then you can kiss your weekend plans goodbye."
A/N: Sorry my writing ass I tried😓
This is my very first taylor k- kinda nervous >\\\\<
