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andvys · 4 months ago

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Eyes don't lie ⭐︎ S.H

⭐︎ Summary: Nancy got everything she wanted but at what cost? Her eyes won't leave you, her hands crave to touch you, she finds herself in daydreams with you, wondering what it would be like to kiss you, to feel your lips on hers instead of his -- the girl Steve left for her.

And Steve, he is still haunted by what he threw away for a girl he could never love the way he loved... loves you. And while they are longing for something, chasing for someone that they both broke, you are only out for one thing, revenge.

⭐︎ Pairing: Nancy Wheeler x fem!reader | Steve Harrington x fem!reader | mentions of Eddie Munson x fem!reader and Billy Hargrove x fem!reader

⭐︎ Warnings: cheating, mentions of unrequited feelings, mentions of breakups, previous steve x reader, stancy, angst, this is some unhinged au of I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss (iykyk). they're all in college (in Hawkins), mentions of affairs, no happy ending... yet? no smut yet, but it's coming I promise

⭐︎ Author's note: This was supposed to be a oneshot but after talking to @hellfire--cult (as always, my hero) we came up with more filth and this will definitely be getting a part two so buckle up hehe. Also thank you for choosing the title bby!!!

Also this took me way too long to post but I lost inspiration AND now I got it back and I can't wait to get started on part two!

Nancy could not focus on anything Professor Harris was saying, she couldn't care less about the numbers he was writing on the board, her mind was elsewhere and her eyes too, no longer focused on the green board or the young Professor that all the girls were lusting over as they sat there in their short skirts, twirling their hair and blinking at him cutely.

While everyone was focused on him, her attention was fully on someone it should not be on, but no matter how many times she tried to look away, her eyes would always find their way back to you, tracing every inch of you, from your hair to your face, from your nose down to your lips, from your neck to your chest and then down to your exposed legs, skirt riding up on your thighs, skin glowing softly.

Your eyelashes kiss the skin beneath your eyes every time you blink, your tongue traces your bottom lip before you bite down on it in concentration, your hair falls over your shoulder, locket nestled perfectly in your cleavage.

She can smell your perfume from here, every time you pass by her, she gets a whiff of it and it causes goosebumps to rise up on her skin.

Something in her belly stirs every time she sees you and it's nothing new, it happened the very first time she laid her eyes on you but back then you were always in the presence of the guy she now calls her boyfriend and back then, things were different, so very different. She thought that it was jealousy that she was feeling every time she saw you two together, she could not stop watching you both, but she placed her focus on the wrong person, she wanted the wrong person, she went after the wrong person.

Nancy was horrible for what she did, and she knew it from the moment she started chasing Steve Harrington when he was still yours and it got even worse when she stole him from you.

She killed the light in your eyes, she caused the sadness that found home in you, she took away your happiness and for what? Her eyes still follow you, her stomach still tingles and burns when she sees you talking to someone who stares at you a little too intensely, who looks at you the way he once did every time he pulled away from your lips and she can’t understand why, she refuses to let herself see why.

Regret resides in her, it’s gnawing at her, making her sick on the inside for what she did to you and the feeling only intensifies when he kisses her – she blames the guilt that settled into her body, for making her obsessed with you, for making her unable to look away from you or search for you in the crowd.

She isn’t the only one, she can see the way he still looks at you, she can see the longing gazes between you both, the way he stops listening to her every time his hazel eyes find you, the way his lips curl into a smile before it becomes a sad one when he stares for too long. She knows that he thinks about you, she knows that he imagines you when he is inside of her, she knows it when he buries his face in the crook of her neck, refusing to look at her, holding her tighter and moaning louder, though biting his lip just so he won’t say your name when he comes undone.

Steve Harrington may be her boyfriend now but he doesn’t belong to her and she knows it, he is still yours, he always will be.

And a part of her, doesn’t give a damn fuck – she just can’t see it yet, she refuses to.

It’s been weeks, months, since he had left you for her and not a single day goes by when she doesn’t wonder why he did it.

She compares herself to you and her mind can’t comprehend why someone would leave you, why someone like Steve would leave you for her.

Sometimes when she can’t sleep at night, she thinks about you, about you with Steve, about what you looked like underneath him, how your face contorted into pleasure when he unraveled you with his tongue, how his large palm would press down on your lower stomach to keep you from squirming away from him, how you tugged at his hair, desperate and needy, grinding your sopping pussy against his face before he pounded you into the mattress, kissing and biting your skin, covering you in love bites, making you moan and whimper in need as your boobs bounced while he pleasured you, balls deep inside of you, cock filling you up so perfectly that it made you cry and drool all over the pillow beneath you – by the end of each fantasy that haunted her, her stomach was burning and her thighs were clenched together. It was because of him, it was because of Steve, she told herself but it was a lie, he was there, but he wasn’t who her mind focused on, it never was.

“Cunningham might chew your head off if you keep staring at her girl,” Barb whispers into her best friend’s ear, making Nancy frown at her words. She turns around, catching the blonde cheerleader glaring at her but she isn’t the reason for her frown. “Her girl?” Nancy asks as she looks away from Chrissy with an eye roll.

Barb chuckles, shaking her head as she starts to gather her books, “come on, everybody knows that Chrissy has a crush on her, she follows her around like some lovesick puppy.”

The feeling in Nancy’s chest tightens, the pit in her belly growing as a snarl makes its way on her face.

“Right.”

Nancy never really paid attention to Chrissy or the way she looks at you but now that Barb mentions it, she sees it too, especially when the cheerleader grabs your hand and drags you out of the classroom once the lesson is over, a possessive look in her eyes that is directed at no one but Nancy.

“You never saw it?” Barb chuckles, rising up from her seat, she grabs her coffee that she’s been sipping on all afternoon, holding the paper cup against her chest.

Nancy shrugs, pretending not to care even though that thought is starting to take up every space in her mind.

“Well, pay attention tonight, wait – you’re still going to Tina’s party, right?”

“Yeah, it’s all Steve has been talking about,” Nancy grumbles, clearly not impressed by it or him.

There is only one reason she will go to the party and it isn’t him.

To… get drunk, yeah, just to get drunk, nothing more or less, only that.

Not to observe and obsess over a certain someone.

But it’s not what she ends up doing, not even in the slightest, she downs one drink and that’s all, she can’t even feel the alcohol in her system but she gets drunk on the way he looks at you as sick as it sounds, something within her burns deeply whenever she catches him, the fire only grows bigger when she sees the way you look at him, burning bright red whenever your eyes lock and Steve tenses up beside her – she knows all too well why he tenses up the way he does, why his knuckles are white as he holds his cup of beer tightly, why his brows are furrowed so strongly, why there is a scowl on his face.

You are on the dancefloor, hands in your hair, a lazy smile on your lips, cheeks burning from the heat of the room and from your dancing, a skimpy little dress being the only thing keeping certain parts of you hidden, the glittery material keeps riding up on your thighs, dangerously high but not enough to expose your ass. You are moving your hips so smoothly, so effortlessly, your skin looks so soft and kissable beneath the string of lights above the room, you know how to move your body, how to put on a show, how to steal the spotlight in the room, how to make everything and everyone around you disappear – everyone except for Billy Hargrove who is snug behind you, hands on your waist, chest pressed against your back as his lips are dangerously close to your neck, ready to kiss and bite, ready to mark you up.

Nancy swallows harshly as she watches you, cheeks burning, chest rising up and down heavily, she licks her bottom lip as her eyes catch Billy’s hands moving to your front, palm pressed against your lower stomach to press you tighter against himself. She squints her eyes, nose scrunching in displeasure when you press your own hand over the larger one on your body.

Steve scoffs under his breath, mumbling words that Nancy can’t make out in the loud room, she narrows her eyes at him, the red solo cup in his hand has dents in it, his eyes are dark, nearly black, his lips curled downwards as his focus is on nothing other than you and Billy.

He is pissed and he is jealous, it’s written all over his face.

Jealous over a girl he left, a girl he dumped – the girl he could never stop loving, the one he still craves and aches for. She knows it all, she always did.

And now she can’t help but wonder why she doesn’t care, why there isn’t a single part inside of her that is filled with rage over seeing her boyfriend pine after his ex-girlfriend. Shouldn’t she be angry? Shouldn’t she feel hurt and jealous? Shouldn’t she feel possessive or even sad?

She can’t feel any of those things when she looks at him – she doesn’t feel anything at all when she looks at him. Steve is a handsome guy, there is no doubt about that, he is one of the most good looking she has ever seen, from head to toe, he is gorgeous. His perfect hair, his soft hazel eyes, his lips – he is pretty, yeah, but his lips are rough and his hands are too, his skin not as soft as… the one of a girl.

And when he talks of his future, she finds herself cringing, looking away to avoid the dreamy look in his honey eyes. Waves of nausea crash over her when he mentions marriage and kids, when he talks of a white picket fence and the RV he wants to explore the country with before going back to his small town life, with wife and kids. She hates it, it makes her sick.

She looks up at him, arms crossed over her chest, bangs hanging in front of her eyes, her heart sinking into her stomach but not because of the way he is watching you, no, but because of the realization that dawned on her only now.

Steve Harrington is her own personal nightmare.

Steve Harrington is everything she never wanted.

And he is only with her because of the summer they shared, the drunken nights, the giggles after smoking a joint together, the comfort he found in her while you were gone ‘doing god knows what with god knows who’ as he had said back then as though you would have ever done anything to hurt him, you worshiped the ground he walked in, the way he should have done for you too.

You were in love with him and anyone could see it.

She heard the rumors, the ones that drove him crazy, the ones that led him away from you and pushed him into her arms – well, not exactly, nothing happened between them until he officially broke up with you. But those rumors were only… rumors and yet, Steve believed in them, he believed Carol Perkins when she told him that you were seeing someone else while you were visiting your cousins in Chicago, that you were spending your nights in a dingy bars, admiring skilled fingers working on a red electric guitar, that your lips touched different ones, that your hands were too busy taking off his leather jacket instead of picking up the phone and calling him.

He believed it with no evidence, he didn’t need it, his insecurities were enough to push him away from you – the sight before him only confirms the rumors of your sinful summer, though Billy isn’t the guy he was worried about during that time, he was always a problem, as well.

He poured his heart out to the only who listened and that was Nancy, she comforted him with words, with alcohol and weed, nothing more, there was never a moment that could have led to anything more but her mind back then was wired differently than it is now – now she can’t understand how she misread between the lines so badly, how she mistaked platonic feelings for deeper ones, why she was so angry when you came back to college and to him, why the sight of you kissing your boyfriend filled her with so much rage.

She was jealous.

She was so jealous.

But not because his lips touched yours but because yours touched his.

It wasn’t a sight she had to endure for long because before she knew it, Steve slipped through your fingers after a big fight caused by the rumors he confronted you about, he didn’t give you a chance to explain yourself, didn’t allow you to tell him what had really happened that summer, he just dumped you, like it didn’t tear his own heart out, like he didn’t regret it the same moment he did it. He dumped you and then he left. He showed up at Nancy’s apartment, not caring about her weird roommate who gave him an odd look when he opened the door and stared at him for a good while, just watching the tears streaming down his cheeks before he called for Nancy, who held him through the night and kissed him in the morning, hoping for a taste of something she would only continue to dream about.

Now they are here and they are together and they are more miserable than ever with each other.

They are better off as friends and they both know it… deep down, at least.

Your giggles break her out of her thoughts, she tears her eyes away from Steve and finds you walking into the room, completely ignoring her and his presence as you make your way over to the table filled with drinks and snacks, Billy close behind you, eyes heavy on your ass, bottom lip caught between his lips.

Nancy rolls her eyes at him and Steve scoffs at the jock, something that doesn’t go unnoticed by the blond.

“Harrington,” Billy smirks, nodding at him mockingly, “how’s it going?” He looks between him and Nancy, lifting his eyebrows at her but she only squints her eyes in response, glaring at him.

“Peachy,” Steve replies with an unimpressed look on his face.

You ignore the presence of the couple in the room, not paying attention to them or their interaction with Billy who won’t stop chasing you, especially after your dance with him – it was a mistake and you won’t make any bigger ones, not tonight.

“Trouble in paradise?” Billy smirks, puffing his chest out as he takes a step closer to Steve, “you don’t look like you’re enjoying yourself,” he chuckles, looking Nancy up and down before his eyes flicker back to Steve’s, “either of you.”

“Why don’t you mind your own business, Hargrove?” Steve grumbles, eyes falling behind the figure in the back, taking in the sight of you so close to him now, the way your dress hugs your body, the way the strap of it falls down your arm and you don’t even bother to fix it, too fixated on the drink in your hand.

“Why don’t you lighten up a bit, hmm? Shouldn’t you be the life of the party, now that you’re with your ‘dream girl’?”

Nancy nearly gags at the words of the blond. He always knows how to get under his skin and hers and she sees the way you tense up at Billy’s words, as much as you try to ignore the conversation in this room, you can’t unhear it.

Steve tears his eyes away from you, looking into the blue ones before him, he takes a deep breath and unclenches his jaw, he opens his mouth to speak.

“Hey guys, we’re playing truth or dare, wanna join?” Tina’s voice cuts him off, the brunette peeks her head inside the kitchen, looking between all of you with a curious spark in her eyes, a bit of mischief lingering in her eyes as well when she senses the tension.

Steve rolls his eyes, scoffing in annoyance, “what are we fifteen–”

“I’m in.”

All the attention is on you now, every pair of eyes in the room, staring straight at you as you stand there confidently, with a smirk on your lips, one that surely doesn’t match the look in your eyes as you are looking straight at your ex-boyfriend.

“I feel like finding out some dirty truths.” You tilt your head to the side, sparing Nancy only a short look but one that leaves her swallowing harshly and blushing furiously.

You hate her, she can see it in your eyes, you never fail to make it known either, not with words, but with all the glances and glares you direct at her whenever you catch her staring.

Steve holds your gaze, intensely so. An unamused chuckle falls from his lips, “yeah, why don’t we uncover some dirty truths, Dolly?” He mocks you with the nickname from your childhood. “Let’s go, I’ve been dying to find out more about your summer.”

If looks could kill then Steve Harrington would drop dead, right now.

He never gave you a chance to explain yourself, he never even tried to talk to you about the rumors he had heard. When you came back, he pretended like everything was fine, he kissed you and held you, spent time with you, he was distant but he was still there… and then, he wasn’t.

Nancy purses her lips, watching the way you slowly make your way towards Steve, ignoring Billy’s presence and hers as you halt before him, tilting your head to the side, you lick your lips as your eyes flicker between his eyes and his mouth.

You are close, close enough to make her feel like she is floating, getting lost in the scent of your perfume, in the color of your eyes. Nancy isn’t sure if she had ever been this close to you before but something in her chest stirs when her eyes follow the way your lips curl downwards, the way your chest rises up and down, necklace stuck between your boobs, the softness of your skin. She digs her nails into her palms, fighting the thoughts in her mind.

“Oh, now you want to talk?” You scoff and cross your arms over your chest, “we could’ve talked months ago but you were the one who just walked out on me after believing the shit Carol made up about me. I didn’t believe Tommy when he told me about your dirty little secret,” you mumble with nothing but hatred in your voice when you glance at Nancy. “But clearly I had every reason to believe him, unlike you, Harrington.”

“Yeah, right.” Steve looks down, avoiding your eyes as he finds himself drowning in regret but also in denial.

He had every reason to believe her, didn’t he?

He remembers him, he remembers the metalhead that you befriended before he left his hometown to pursue his rockstar career, the same metalhead that Steve used to buy from, it was his fault that you had crossed paths with him anyway, he invited him into his home, you were there when he showed up to drop off the weed, Steve had asked for. The smirk that crossed Eddie’s face when he saw you skipping down the stairs in nothing but Steve’s shirt, should have worried him then already but it didn’t, not even when you invited Eddie in and he started showing up more frequently, not even when Steve was out of town, visiting his grandparents in Colorado, leaving you to spend spring break with your new friend.

Only when he came back, did the sudden insecurity hit him, when he saw how close you and Eddie had gotten while he was away, when he saw the playful touches and heard the soft giggles, when he saw the sadness in your eyes when the metalhead left for Chicago after graduating high school. He got suspicious, he got insecure and it only worsened when you chose Chicago out of all places to spend your summer at — he knew you had family there but you never visited them before that, so why this summer?

You never gave him a reason not to trust you but he was deeply insecure and scared that his fears would come true, that had pushed him into Nancy’s arms, the overthinking and the rumors that Carol had started about you and Eddie, the ones that already got around while the metalhead still lived here – Steve ignored them then but he couldn’t ignore them any longer when you left.

Steve felt sick to his stomach at the mere thought of what or who you could be doing, the thought that you had fallen out of love because of someone else made him feel blue, though your voice through the phone had sweetened his day and made him forget about what had previously made him cry but even that didn’t save him or your relationship that started to crumble without your knowledge.

“What?” You scoff again, eyes glaring into his so intensely that it almost makes him shrink, “don’t act like you’re fucking innocent, we both know you aren’t.”

Nancy shifts on her feet, uncomfortably so, she glances at Tina who is still watching the interaction, amused and intrigued by it all, just like Billy. She rolls her eyes and looks back at you, a part of her wants to speak up, to defend Steve, tell you that nothing happened between them then but her words are caught in her throat.

“Oh and you are?” Steve replies, taking a step closer to you, he looks down at you in anger, like his heart isn’t aching and yearning for you, like it’s easy for him to look down at you like you don’t mean a thing to him, like you aren’t still the girl that he would do anything for. “Don’t act like you weren’t messing around with the freak–”

“Don’t call him that,” you spit back, frowning at him.

A dark chuckle falls from Steve’s lips, his eyes flicker with rage and jealousy.

“Freak? That’s the first thing you’re going to address, not the fact that I just said that you were messing around–”

“I never did that.”

At this moment, Nancy can’t tell whether you’re telling the truth or not, she was convinced that you weren’t messing around with Eddie Munson – she saw the way he looked at you, the way his eyes followed your every move, filled with softness and adoration, filled with lust. But she also saw the way you looked at Steve, you were devoted to him, only to him.

Though Steve’s insecurities made her question you as well, especially now.

“Yeah sure, you didn’t, Dolly,” Steve clenches his jaw. “You were just friends, hmm right.”

“Yeah, like you and Nancy,” you fight back, looking at him smugly, angrily. “You were just friends, right? When I came back to Hawkins, that’s all you were right? Just friends, huh? Funny how you dumped me shortly after you had befriended her.”

Her name fell from your lips and that’s all she could focus on, on the anger in your eyes that sparked something within her, that made her lick her lips.

“I didn’t cheat if that’s what you’re saying,” Steve frowns, eyes lingering with disgust.

“Of course you didn’t,” you chuckle in disbelief, “that’s why you had no problem getting into a new relationship only a day after breaking up with me, right?... I don’t know about you but I can’t imagine dating a friend, you do realize what it made you look like, right? A cheater, Steve, a goddamn cheater.”

Steve swallows harshly, shoulders relaxing from the tension that resided in his body for the past minutes when he sees how glossy your eyes get, how pain is the only thing left in them, no ounce of anger showing anymore, only sadness and heartbreak that you had refused to show in these past months since he left. Seeing this, seeing through you, feels like a blow to his chest, something he refused to look at to avoid the regret is now right in front of him, on full display.

You huff again, shaking your head as you take a step back and look between them, eyes meeting Nancy’s for a moment before you lower your head, glancing down at your drink, you bring it up to your lips and down the rest of it, you slam the empty cup on the counter and step back towards Steve, looking into the hazel eyes that you used to love so much, you pat his chest, “I wasn’t the one who left with no explanation, I wasn’t the one with the dirty secrets and I wasn’t the one who cheated and then accused you of doing it, asshole, so spare me your bullshit.” With one last glare, you step away from him and direct your gaze at the girl who can’t seem to tear her eyes away from you, you step towards her, unknowingly making her heart flutter, “I hope you can taste me when he’s kissing you.”

You think that anger is what she feels from hearing your words but it’s not that at all, not even in the slightest.

Her eyes follow you when you walk out of the room, brushing past Tina who looks like she is ready and excited to spread around what she just witnessed. The moment you are out in the hallway and making your way upstairs, she giggles loudly and runs off, making Steve roll his eyes.

Nancy feels like something is pushing her, pushing her to walk the way you just did, to follow you upstairs, to talk to you… alone, to explain what had really happened this summer or these past few months.

Billy’s laughter echoes through the room, a satisfied grin appearing on his face, one that Steve easily ignores, he slams his drink down next to your empty cup, not caring about spilling it.

“I’m gonna get some fresh air,” he announces, sparing a poor glance at Nancy before he walks out of the room and out of the house, slamming the front door shut so loudly that it’s even heard over the music.

“Sure,” Nancy mumbles when he is outside already, uninterested. Her mind is in a haze, body angling towards the stairs. Billy’s eyes are on her, intensely so, but she doesn’t bother to turn her head to look at him, her feet carry her out of the room before she can rethink the decision her mind had already made. She pushes past the people in the hallway, ignores the curious glances from Carol and Tommy.

Her heart is pounding in her chest as she walks up the stairs, fingernails digging into her palms, she bites down on her lip nervously, letting her body move on its own accord. She doesn’t know where to look first, where to go but it's like something is leading her to her wanted destination.

She finds you in one of the bedrooms, sitting at the end of bed with tears running down your cheeks, sniffles sounding through the quiet room, the lights from the hallway illuminating the dark room, you jump in surprise when you notice her in the doorway.

“What the hell do you want?”

Nancy sucks in a sharp breath, the guilt in her continuing to eat at her when she sees the pain in your glassy eyes before your expression hardens at the sight of her. You wipe your tears angrily and push yourself up, smoothing down your dress, you blink, trying to get rid of the tears.

“I’m sorry I-I just wanted to–”

“What did you want?” You snap back, frowning in rage as you stalk towards her like she is your prey. “Did you want this room to yourself? Am I in your way? Oh, I’m sorry, let me just make space for you.” Your voice is sarcastic, your face angry but it does nothing to scare her or push her away from here.

“No,” Nancy shakes her head, knowing all too well what you mean by those words. She sighs, “no, I just wanted to check up on you.”

Her words are clearly something you weren’t expecting, because for a good moment, you’re dead silent, staring at her with confused eyes and parted lips — ones that Nancy can’t look away from.

It would’ve been dead silent too if it wasn’t for the voices downstairs, for the loud music or the sound of laughter outside.

“Check up on me!?”

The anger on your face and in your voice should be enough of a reason for her to leave the room and avoid you, her brain is telling her that but her body… her body is telling her something entirely else. Somehow, you look even better with the fire behind your eyes, the burning gaze you look at her with, sets her lower stomach on fire, your skin looks even softer beneath this lightning, your lips look so… so kissable.

She can’t deny it any longer, not after months and months of observing and pining, even before she met Steve properly. It was never him that she looked at, it was never him that she wanted.

“What? So you can laugh in my face and mock me? How you stole my boyfriend!?”

Nancy shakes her head, “n-no, I’d never do that… I am… I’m sorry.”

You chuckle darkly but a hint of sadness is there too, she can’t even miss it. You roll your eyes at her and finally decide to step away, to leave this conversation that you never even wanted. But Nancy doesn’t even let you pass, in fact, she places herself in front of the door after slamming it shut, standing in your way with a stubborn look on her face.

“What the— get out of my way, Wheeler.”

“No.” Nancy shakes her head again, blue eyes burning into yours, cheeks glowing red. “I’m sorry, I really am, I-I know you hate me, I would too, what I did was… was messed up but I’m really, really sorry!”

You can only stare in disbelief, blinking, you can feel your heart pounding and your chest hurting from it.

You don’t need that, you don’t want that.

You don’t want no apology, not from her and not from him.

He betrayed you and he broke your heart, stomped on it like it was nothing, and then, he just moved on, right away, like you never meant anything to him, like he never loved you, like it was the easiest thing to just forget about you and date someone new.

And Nancy, she never owed you anything, no loyalty or sympathy, but what she did still hurt, a lot. And her apology angers you in ways you can’t even describe with words.

“Fuck you.” The way those words leave your lips followed by the venomous look in your eyes should make her feel intimidated, it should make her draw back and let you leave but instead, she feels any of what she should feel. Your anger makes her feel something she had never felt before, some sort of anticipation, a curiosity she never felt with any guy, not the cute guy from summer camp last year whose name she forgot, not Jerry Carlson who was the first ever to ask her out on a date, not Steve Harrington, no guy had ever made her feel the things that burn in her now, only you.

Fuck.

Only you.

She can’t tear her eyes away from your lips any longer, she can’t fight the desire in her that calls your name, she can’t fight the urge to move closer to you and the way your eyes flicker to her lips, even if only for a second, gives her the push to take a step closer.

You have to feel the tension too, right?

The fire between you – maybe it’s only anger on your part but maybe, hopefully, it isn’t only that.

Nancy’s heart starts pounding, she suddenly feels drunk, hazy. Her feet move on their own accord, her feelings act on their own, she no longer feels control over her own body.

“You and Steve are unbelievable, you know that right?” You snap at her, flipping your hair over your shoulder, arrogantly. “He fucked me over and you helped. You both got what you wanted, you got each other, so why can’t you just leave me the fuck alone!?”

She doesn’t answer you.

She doesn’t say anything.

She just looks at you.

Her eyes are almost unrecognizable, dark and barely blue, a wild look lingers in them as she stares at you like you’re her prey, like she’s about to eat you alive, maybe it should terrify you but it doesn’t, you are too angry to feel anything else.

Nancy watches the way you roll your eyes like some goddamn brat and she is beginning to lose her patience with your attitude – she deserves it, she knows she does but her feelings overwhelm her and your bitchiness doesn’t help much.

Enough of her silence, you move forward, about to push her aside so you can make your escape, you reach for the doorknob but freeze in your place when her hand wraps around your wrist and she gives you a stern look and it only angers you more, even when there is a small part of you that feels intrigued by the way she looks at you.

“I swear to god, Nancy,” you sigh.

There is guilt in her eyes, beneath the flames that linger and it irritates you so deeply.

If she is burdened by guilt at this moment, then she must’ve been back then too and it only makes you wonder.

“Why did you take him?” You ask, trying to hide the pain in your voice, trying to hide what you have been feeling for the past months.

“I never wanted him.”

Her own eyes widen after those words leave her lips, not out of shock but out of relief – the truth that’s been there all along, finally uncovered and revealed, not only to you but also to herself because a part of her didn’t want to see it, didn’t want to admit it, that it was you, that it was a girl whom she wanted.

A gasp tears from your mouth and your eyes widen, hand falling from the doorknob you were holding onto so tightly, your heart lurches to your throat and something stirs within you. It takes you a long moment to realize what is happening, to realize what she is doing, to realize what she just confessed.

You feel warmth, in your body, on your body, on your lips. You feel her hands cupping your cheeks, you taste her raspberry chapstick, the rum she must’ve had earlier, you feel the intensity radiating off her.

She is kissing you.

Nancy Wheeler is kissing you after confessing that it wasn’t him who she wanted.

Your ex-boyfriend’s girl is kissing you like her life depends on it – lost in the kiss, she looks completely in bliss, with her eyes closed and her lips moving against yours passionately, softly in a way only a girl's lips can feel.

She kisses you in a way no one else ever has before, with a kind of desperation and need that can only come from someone who has been longing for this moment for a long, long time and to your surprise it makes your stomach flutter but your confusion guides you, you raise your hands and press them against her shoulders, pushing her away from you with furrowed eyebrows and puffy lips.

Your heart is racing, your thoughts are too.

What the hell just happened?

Nancy slowly opens her eyes, cheeks flushed and eyes needy as they flicker back and forth between your eyes and your lips, like she’s hungry for you, like she yearns for you, like she needs and wants more.

You open your mouth to speak but not a single word falls from your lips because what is there to say? You are confused, more than that you are irritated by the fact that the kiss made your stomach burn and your legs shaky, that it left you craving for another taste of the girl that stole your happiness but she looks at you like you’re… something special and it makes your heart flutter and it makes you angry because she is still Nancy Wheeler. She is still the girl who is the reason for all your hurt, she is the girl your Steve left you for.

She blinks, lashes fluttering as her eyes soften, vulnerability crossing her face.

“I wanted you.”

Your breath hitches in your throat, your face flusters at her confession. You don’t know what to think of it, of her. But that little voice in your head, that angry one that has been trying to take control over you these past few months is telling you to use this given opportunity to get back at him.

She wants you.

Steve’s girlfriend wants you.

She looks at you like she is ready to drop everything and everyone for you.

She is.

Your eyes flicker to her lips, you can’t deny the fact that it felt good to feel them on yours and you can’t help but wonder what they would feel like in different places on your body.

But you don’t know whether it’s the thrill, the curiosity or this opportunity that fell right into your hands.

She wants you so very badly, you can see it in her blue eyes, the way she is practically begging for you to let her in, to let her have a taste, to let her have you, she is needy, not for Steve, no, not for him, for you, only for you.

And who are you to pass up on an opportunity to have a good time and get your sweet revenge all at once?

So after a lot of heavy breathing and contemplating, you break out of your trance and move forward, catching her by surprise this time, you grab her face and slam your lips against hers, earning a whimper from her the second you kiss her.

Satisfaction rushes through you, numbing the anger and filling you with pleasure to know that this will ruin her.

And him.

Both of them.

♡

tagging ppl who might be interested!!!

@thesickestqrmydcll @prettyboyeddiemunson @fanfic-fanatic-2024

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington angst #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things angst #nancy wheeler x reader #nancy wheeler x you

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bbymunsonx · 7 months ago

Text

birds of a feather

eddie munson x fem reader

summary: eddie munson was your best friend and you were hopelessly in love with him. it was starting to get embarrassing how much you were in love with him. the only problem was that you don't want your boyfriend, steve harrington, to find out.

warnings: MINORS DNI 18+, smut, angst, cheating, attempted SA, oral (f receiving), nipple play, piv (protected), masturbation, sex toys, wet dreams, aftercare, death, no happy ending

word count: 8.1k

notes: sorry!

Ever since you had moved to Hawkins, your life had been a nonstop nightmare. Life before Hawkins wasn’t all that great either, but at least California has sunlight, beaches, great weather… Hawkins was just, Hawkins. Your little sister, Max, and your stepbrother, Billy, were just as excited about this new beginning as you were.

You remember the first day of school like it was yesterday. Stumbling to your locker, you tried the combination five times and your locker wouldn’t open.

“Goddamn it,” you mutter to yourself under your breath. As you tried to open your locker one last time, all your books suddenly slipped out of your hands onto the dirty high school floor causing you to sigh.

“Are you alright?” A voice came up from behind you. Your head whipped around revealing a boy standing right behind you. He had shoulder length hair that was slightly frizzy, tattoos covering his arms and deep chocolate brown eyes. He started to crouch down to pick up the books that slipped from your hands.

“Yeah, yeah I’m okay. I just can’t get this fucking thing open.” You groaned, causing the boy to display a slight smile on his face.

“I think it might be because this is my locker. I’m 748. You’re 747.” The boy pointed to the locker directly next to the one that you were trying. You could feel heat rising up your neck onto your cheeks as you were completely embarrassed.

“Oh my god, I feel completely stupid. Thank you…” You waited for him to give you his name.

“Eddie,” He smiled and reached out his hand. You gave Eddie your name and shook his hand.

“It’s nice to meet you Eddie.” You smiled at him before shoving your books in your locker and walking away. Little did you know, since your last names were Mayfield and Munson, Eddie sat next to you in homeroom and the two of you shared a couple classes together. Throughout your first year at Hawkins High, and Eddie’s second year, the two of you became best friends.

***

As you got closer with Eddie, you started to feel something towards him. You started to feel a bit nervous when you saw him. Your palms would get sweaty when he would call you the pet names he usually calls you. Your stomach would flip flop whenever he took a hit of the joint that you two shared. You would feel your heart shatter into a million pieces whenever Eddie would tell you about his latest one night stand. Even though you became extremely close with Eddie during your freshman year, you also became close to the King of Hawkins High, Steve Harrington. You started hanging out with Nancy Wheeler and by association, became friends with Steve. Steve was the most popular guy in school but he wasn’t Eddie.

It wasn’t unusual for you to spend your free time at Eddie’s. Billy was usually having sex with a different girl in his room and there’s only so many sex sounds a person can take before they explode.

You and Eddie both lay on his bed in your pajamas with a scary movie on in the background. Again, nothing unusual. As you take a hit of your joint and pass it to Eddie, you say, “What do you think about Steve Harrington?”

That caused Eddie to start choking on the smoke he had just inhaled. “Jesus, Munson, breathe,” you laughed at him.

“Why do you wanna know how I feel about Harrington?” Eddie scoffed.

“Nancy told me he wants to ask me out,” You looked over at Eddie to try to catch his reaction. You looked down at his hands to see him clenched his fists. “You’re my best friend and I just wanted to see what you thought.”

Eddie took your hand in his. “I want you to be happy, sweetheart. If Harrington makes you happy, then I think you need to have a talk with him.” He smiled at me which made me smile back.

“I have an idea.” You sat up, trying to get Eddie to feel excited about your idea. “Steve’s having a party tomorrow night. Nancy’ll be there, Barb, Robin, Chrissy… a whole bunch of us. Why don’t you come?”

“Princess, I know for a fact that Steve isn’t gonna want me at his party.” Eddie sounded doubtful in your idea.

“He will if you bring this.” I shook Eddie’s bag filled with weed in his face. Eddie rolled his eyes at you.

“You’re lucky I love you.” He responded and placed a wet kiss right on the top of your forehead.

Your stomach sank again.

You and Eddie arrive at Steve’s house a little after the party started and the two of you stuck out like a sore thumb. As you looked around, it seemed like half of the high school was there.

“Hey!” Steve noticed you across the room and walked right over to you. “Thanks for coming! You look… wow!”

“Thanks, Steve,” you blushed. “You know Eddie, right?” You tried to introduce them to one another.

“Yeah, yeah. Hey, Munson.” Steve barely looked at Eddie as he said that.

“Harrington.” Eddie responded coldly. Suddenly, the room was filled with so much tension.

“Alright, I’m gonna go grab a drink.” You said as you were walking away, trying to break the tension.

“Come out back when you’re ready. We’re all hanging by the pool.” Steve yelled at you while walking over to the back door.

As you walk over to the kitchen, you run into your stepbrother, Billy, walking in the opposite direction.

“What are you doing here?” He questions rudely.

“Um, I was invited. What are you doing here? You still obsessed with showing Steve how much of a big boy you are?” You smirked at Billy and continued walking.

“Watch it!” He yelled at you, to which you replied by throwing up your middle finger behind your back.

Steve’s fridge was filled with beer so you took two, one for you and another for Eddie, and headed out to the backyard.

There were a bunch of chairs set up outside with a fire pit in the middle of them. Sitting there was Steve, Nancy, Robin, Barb, Chrissy, Tommy, Carol, and lastly, Eddie. “Hi, guys!” You greeted the group before handing Eddie his beer. You took the empty seat between Eddie and Steve and gazed into the fire.

One beer quickly became two and two beers quickly became three. The night was going pretty smoothly and it seemed as though even Eddie was having a great time. He spent a majority of the time making small talk with Chrissy Cunningham, who was seated next to him. After the conversation began to die down a bit, Robin exclaimed, “Let’s play a game!”

Steve initially groaned, “Games, Robin? How old are we? Ten?”

“Games could be fun,” you smirked over at Steve.

“What kind of games do you want to play?” Steve caved in, seeing your eyes light up.

“Let’s play truth or dare,” Robin smirked. You sighed internally. Truth or dare never ends well.

“Alright, let’s do it.” Steve agreed.

After a few rounds, it was Eddie’s turn. So far, Robin and Nancy kissed, Chrissy had to choose somebody to flash (luckily for her she chose Robin), and Steve told us all the last time he had sex… which was right before he had met me.

“Truth or dare, Munson?” Steve looked over at Eddie.

“Dare,” he responded coldly.

“I dare you to kiss Chrissy.” Steve laughed. “The freak kissing the prettiest girl at Hawkins High.” Your stomach dropped when you heard Steve call Chrissy the prettiest girl in school.

You looked over at Eddie with wide eyes, not anticipating him to actually do it.

“It’s okay, Eddie. It’s a game,” Chrissy consented as Eddie shifted over to get closer to her. He reached his hand out to grip her neck, ever so slightly. They both closed their eyes and leaned into one another. All you could hear was Chrissy gasp into the kiss, so you could only guess that Eddie had slipped his tongue into her mouth. A classic Munson move.

“Alright, Munson. I told you to kiss her, not eat her face.” Steve laughed. You could feel Steve look over at you as your eyes were glued to the fire sitting in front of you. You were trying not to let the tears that were glossing your eyes fall down your cheeks. Eddie was your best friend. That’s all.

“Mayfield, it's your turn, babe.” Steve started. Your stomach flipped as that was the first time Steve had called you babe. “Truth or dare?”

You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol or your emotions from watching Eddie and Chrissy make out, but suddenly, you had other plans. You whispered over to Steve, “Follow me. I have another idea.” You got up off the chair and took his hand in yours, slowly dragging him up.

“Sorry, folks! Gotta go!” Steve laughed to the group as you dragged him into the house. You had looked back at the group, who were already back to playing the game, but not Eddie. He was staring daggers into you and Steve. You loved every second of it.

You had dragged Steve through his filled house, up his stairs and into his bedroom. After the two of you were in the bedroom, you slammed the door shut and immediately connected his lips to yours.

“What do you have up your sleeves, Mayfield?” Steve whispered in between kisses.

“Nancy told me that you liked me. Is that true?” You suddenly gained the confidence to ask him.

“I do.” Steve said while batting his eyelashes at you. “I thought you liked Munson?”

You pulled away from Steve to look at him completely, “Why…why would you say that?”

“It’s just that everyone thought you guys were a couple. You are always together so I just figured you were screwing or something.”

“I’m all yours, Steve.” You had connected your lips back to his, deepening the kiss while nudging him towards the bed. You laid back on the bed as he laid on top of you, ravishing you. As he kissed his way down your neck, you involuntarily groaned.

“Steve,” you whimpered. Just as Steve lifted your shirt over your head, his bedroom door immediately swung open, ricocheting off the wall. Eddie was at the door eating Chrissy’s face with his hands cupping her breasts through her shirt.

“Fuck, Eddie! Get out!” You threw your shirt at him to get him to leave.

“Oh sorry! Thought this was the spare!” Eddie exclaimed as he and Chrissy left. Chrissy gently closed the door behind them.

“Where were we?” Steve cocked an eyebrow at you while kissing down your neck. Steve really took his time with you, but it was very obvious that Eddie was not taking his time with Chrissy. Her moans were already filling the entirety of Steve’s upstairs.

“Fuck, Eddie!” Just the way you had yelled at Eddie earlier. “You’re so good! Yeah…yeah right there!”

You hadn’t even noticed that Steve was pumping in and out of you, his cock splitting you open. All you could focus on was your best friend having sex in the next room, and your heart was split in two because he wasn’t having sex with you.

***

It’s been two months since you and Steve have been official, and you’ve never been happier. After a couple of dates, Eddie and Chrissy figured out that they just weren’t compatible. Not the way you and Steve were. Though you and Steve were together, you still spent a majority of your time with Eddie. You wanted to be anywhere that wasn’t home. Steve understood the dynamic of your friendship and he was completely fine with it. Or so you thought.

After a long night of smoking and watching horror movies, the two of you fell asleep in Eddie’s bed. Something woke you up out of your sleep. The sound of your name being spoken, or rather whimpered. As you started to regain consciousness, you felt Eddie behind you, deep asleep, rutting his clothed crotch into your clothed ass, while whimpering your name. You debated letting him finish, but the thought of Steve popped into your head, causing you to wake Eddie.

“Eds, get up!” you nudged him, causing him to jump awake.

“What! What is it?” He seemed genuinely confused. You pointed down to his very obvious boner. “Was I…”

“Just a little,” you cringed.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry, Mayfield.” Eddie covered his face with his hands, obviously very embarrassed.

“Eds, it’s fine. We can’t control our bodies and what they do.” Who were you to judge Eddie with the obvious wetness pooling at your center. “I think I’m just gonna go home.” You started to get up before Eddie quickly grabbed your hand.

“Please don’t go. I can just go to the bathroom real quick and take care of this and then we can start another movie. Just please. Stay.” Eddie pleaded with you. You sighed and shook your head.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Eds.” You rubbed his hand with your thumb before letting go. The feeling of his hand on yours felt more like cheating than waking up to him grinding into your ass.

The last thing you could hear before walking out of Eddie’s room was him softly cursing at himself under his breath. A part of you felt awful for leaving him, but another part of you would have taken things to another level if you’d stayed, and you couldn’t hurt Steve like that.

As you walked into your room, you plopped on your bed and let out a huge groan. Thankfully, it was the middle of the night meaning everyone was asleep. The silence of the house only caused the thoughts in your head to get louder and louder. The feeling of Eddie’s cock rutting against your ass. This has never happened before, but you would have chalked it up to Eddie having a wet dream about a cheerleader or something. But he was whimpering your name. Desperate whimpers as his grinding became more desperate. More needy.

The more you thought about it, the more you were aware of every single part of your body. Your heartbeat was too loud. You could feel the beads of sweat dripping between your breasts. You could feel your clit begin to pulsate as it was desperate to be touched. You bit your lip as you quietly reached over to your nightstand, pulling out your trusty vibrator. Because of how worked up you were, you knew it wasn’t going to take much to make you orgasm.

You teased yourself at first. Trailing your finger around your neck and down to your tits. Luckily, you weren’t wearing a bra, and your arousal caused your nipples to become rock hard. Your fingers slowly started to circle around your clothed nipple. You softly exhale at the contact. You were planning on teasing yourself for a lot longer but you couldn’t take it anymore.

In one swift movement, your shorts and panties were laying at the foot of your bed with your vibrator making contact with your clit. Fuck, you groaned at the contact. Your brain kept picturing Eddie and what he was doing earlier in the evening. You loved Steve. Steve treated you so well and made you so happy. But there was nothing you wanted more in the world than for Eddie to have kept going. For him to wake up to realize what he was doing and keep going. For him to climb on top of you and fuck you.

When you turned the vibrator up to the higher setting, you were already close. Eddie was in your head egging you on. Telling you how girl of a girl you are and how needy you are for him.

As your orgasm washed over you, your hand fell to your mouth to stop you from screaming his name. The name of the guy who wasn’t even your boyfriend.

The next day, you didn’t see Eddie at all in the morning. Since you’re always locker neighbors, he usually waits at your locker for you, but this morning he was a no show. You were at your locker gathering your books when all of a sudden, someone came up behind you and wrapped his hands around you, lifting you up. Automatically thinking it’s Eddie, you screamed, “Eds! What are you doing?!”

The arms put you down, causing you to turn around. Steve was standing behind you with a confused look painted on his face. “Eddie?”

“Shit, Steve! I’m sorry!” You pecked him on the lips. “I’m just used to meeting Eddie here. Creature of habit, I guess.”

Steve let out a fake sounding chuckle as he smiled down at you. “Hey, where were you last night? I called your house and got an earful of Hargrove.” Steve scoffed.

“Oh, Eddie and I were having one of our movie nights.” You smiled innocently. Steve doesn’t need to know specifics.

Steve reached out to your hands while whispering your name, “I think we need to talk.” The bell rang for classes to start but classes were the last thing you were interested in at the moment.

“What’s up, babe?” You questioned.

“Look at me in the eyes and tell me you're not in love with him.” Steve said sternly. Your throat began to feel dry as you found it difficult to look at Steve.

“I…Steve…” You began.

“I know how close you are with Munson. I know you two are best friends. But you are my girlfriend. Not his. I really hate to do this to you, but I need you to choose. Me or him.” Steve said sternly. He was actually serious.

Behind Steve, you noticed the entire reason why Eddie didn’t meet you at your locker this morning. All you could see was him leaning against a locker while talking to a girl in a cheerleader uniform. You could hear the way she chuckled all the way over here.

“I’m yours, Steve. Only yours.” You grabbed his face and planted a sloppy kiss on his lips before heading to class.

It’s been a couple days since you stopped talking to Eddie cold turkey. A part of you felt extremely guilty, watching him slowly pull away, but the other part of you didn’t feel bad at all. Eddie was a player, plain and simple. You and Steve had something special and you wouldn't jeopardize your relationship over something that wasn’t real.

Since you stopped talking to Eddie, you spent more and more time at Steve’s house. It was really great being able to spend time with him like this. On this particular night, you told Steve you wouldn't be able to spend the night because you had a drama club meeting.

When you arrived at the Drama Room, you noticed Eddie in the room, setting up the table for his Hellfire Club meeting. Unfortunately, you were way too loud opening the door so you couldn’t slowly back away. You and Eddie had just stared at each other for a few moments in silence before you let out, “I’m sorry. I thought I had drama practice tonight.”

“Oh, sorry. They’re in the cafeteria tonight.” Eddie replied sorrowfully.

“Thanks.” You quickly turned around to run out of the room. Eddie tried to call after you, but you had already made it halfway down the hallway.

Drama practice ran quite late tonight, as the parking lot was completely empty by the time you left the school. You sort of expected Eddie’s van to still be here but Hellfire Club must’ve let out early tonight.

Not feeling like walking all the way home, you decided to stop at Steve’s house since it was closer. After five minutes of walking, you arrived at the Harrington house. You reached down and took the spare key from underneath the welcome mat and let yourself in.

“Steve!” You yelled. Silence.

Music blasted from up the stairs so you decided to follow the noise. The music was coming from Steve’s room. That wasn’t the only noise coming from Steve’s room.

As you opened the door, you were greeted with Nancy on top of Steve, completely naked. She was rocking back and forth on his cock making him whimper, in a way you’ve never heard.

“Steve?” You choked. Steve and Nancy both stopped dead in their tracks and looked over at you.

“Shit!” They yelled at the same time. “I can explain!” Steve yelled after you. You burst into tears as you ran out of Steve’s room, down the stairs, and out of his house, into the pouring rain.

Your house was a ten minute walk and Eddie’s was a twenty minute walk, yet you chose to run to Eddie’s house. You just wanted to be in the arms of your best friend.

Extremely out of breath from running and sobbing, you finally made it to Eddie’s trailer. Your hands started banging on the door waiting for him to answer. You could barely see from the rain dripping down your forehead and the tears falling from your eyes.

After a minute, Eddie arrived at the door with wide eyes.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” He questioned.

“I went to Steve’s and he was fucking Nancy.” You whispered, but Eddie heard you loud and clear.

Eddie whispered your name under his breath before you grabbed his face in your hands and planted a sloppy kiss on his lips. The two of you melted into the kiss for a few seconds. The butterflies in your stomach were relentless as you always wanted to know what it would feel like to have his lips on yours. Though, you wished it would be under better circumstances. You let go as soon as you heard someone’s voice coming from inside the trailer.

“Eds! Who is it?” A girl’s voice called. The girl who he was flirting with this morning..

Eddie whispered your name before your hands covered your mouth.

“I don’t know what I’m doing here. I’m sorry, I have to go.” You ran away back into the rain, slowly making your way home.

***

It’s been six months since you and Steve inevitably broke up. Believe it or not, you two started to become good friends. You had hated him for a little bit in the beginning, but even though he was physically cheating on you, you had mentally been cheating on him for a lot longer.

After the night you and Eddie kissed, you two hadn’t kissed again. You haven't even talked about it. The only thing he asked was if you were okay after everything with Steve. He continued to date other girls and you continued to date other guys.

That was until one night you had gone out with Jason Carver. The two of you had a great time seeing a movie, but when you had gotten back into the car, he had tried to force himself on you. Tried to get you to do things you did not want to do. He grabbed your shirt so hard it tore. You’re favorite shirt. Funny enough, it was the shirt you were wearing the first time you met Eddie. You were finally able to push yourself off of him and run. Every time you need to run somewhere, you find yourself running right to Eddie Musnon.

This time, you didn’t care if there was another woman in there, you were going to burst right in. As soon as you burst in the door, you ran all the way down to Eddie’s room, where he was laying in his bed in his pajamas, strumming at his guitar with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. He instantly put his guitar on the ground and his cigarette on his ashtray before jumping out of bed.

He grabbed the fabric of your torn shirt and traced it in his fingers. His hands grabbed onto your shoulders before looking you right into the eyes. “Who did this to you?” His voice was almost so deep it sounded as though he was growling.

“Jason Carver.” You whispered.

“I’m gonna kill him.” Eddie grabbed the keys to his van before gently pushing you aside. You grabbed onto his arm, not wanting him to go anywhere.

“No. Don’t go. I need you.” You pleaded with him, almost sounding completely desperate.

“Okay, princess. I’ll stay.” He walked back towards you. Eddie reached into his drawer to grab you a pair of sweatpants, a t- shirt, and a towel. “How about you shower tonight off, yeah?”

“Thanks, Eds.” You whispered. You’ve showered at his house mutual times but this time felt more personal. As soon as you got into the shower, you immediately lost it and started sobbing into your hands.

After about twenty minutes in the shower, you put on Eddie’s clothes and gazed at yourself in the mirror. There was just something that looked so right about you wearing his baggy clothes. You slowly brought up the collar of the t-shirt and inhaled it. It smelled just like him, and that brought you a tiny amount of comfort. You exited the bathroom and went back into Eddie’s room to see him still laying on his bed watching a movie on the television. He looked over and saw you standing there, patting on the side of the bed next to him. Your side.

“I knew I shouldn’t have gone out with him.” You groaned as you plopped down on the bed.

“Did he…” Eddie began before you quickly cut him off.

“No. No. I got away before anything else could happen.” You sounded relieved, as did Eddie. “Eddie…” You whispered, turning your head to the side to look at him.

“Hm?” He whispered back, looking back at you.

“Remember when Steve and I broke up and I came here and kissed you?”

“I do.” Eddie nodded.

“I should’ve done that sooner.” You whispered, not even sure if Eddie could hear you. “I’ve gone out with all these bullshit guys, just to try to get over you.”

“Over me?” Eddie questioned, to which you nodded. “You like me?”

“Of course I do, Eddie,” You scoffed, feeling stupid. “I’ve literally been in love with you since the first time I saw you. I can’t pretend anymore. My heart beats for you and only you. Pretending that I’m not in love with you… it’s killing me.”

Eddie’s hand slowly slid over to your side of the bed, on top of your hand that was lying by your side. You turn your hand over to invite his fingers to interlock with yours, which he does. He gazes at you with loving eyes as his fingers begin to play with yours.

“Please say something.” You whispered.

“You’re my best friend, Mayfield. You are… everything. I was a pussy for not saying anything but I just loved you too much, I was scared. I was scared to lose you. I love you in every sense of the word. I don’t think I can love you any more than I already do. My beautiful girl” Eddie smiled down at you while caressing your cheek.

“You love me?” A tear escaped your eye.

“Don’t be so surprised.” Eddie chucked at you before leaning down and planting a gentle kiss on your lips. You didn’t hesitate to immediately kiss him back. You haven’t felt his kiss in so long but it immediately felt like home.

As things became more heated, you whimpered as he slipped his tongue in your mouth. A classic Munson move.

“You alright, baby?” Eddie questioned because of your reaction.

“I’m more than okay,” You smiled into the kiss. Eddie readjusted himself as he climbed on top of you, to get better leverage while kissing you. You whimpered to yourself as Eddie’s lips left yours. His lips were all over your face. All over your cheeks, your forehead, even your nose. He couldn’t get enough of your face.

When he was pleased with the work he did on your face, his lips began to travel south. He licked and sucked on your neck, obviously leaving hickeys. You were Eddie’s and everyone was going to know it.

“Fuck, Eds,” you groaned as he continued to mark his territory. You began to squirm under his touch, everything on your body becoming way too sensitive. He had barely touched you and you were already coming undone underneath him.

“What do you need, sweetheart?” Eddie taunted above you, knowing exactly what you needed. He lifted his shirt off your body and lucky enough, you weren’t wearing a bra.

“Need you to touch me.” You gasped as his warm mouth made contact with your nipple.

“Christ, Mayfield. You were hiding these from me this whole time?” Eddie continued to taunt. He was repeating the licking and sucking he had performed on your neck but on both of your nipples. While his mouth was attached to one nipple, he was rolling the other one with his thumb and forefinger. He wanted to make sure they were getting the same amount of attention. As he licked, sucked, and bit, you were trying your hardest to grind into him to relieve your throbbing clit. Everytime your hips bucked up, Eddie would back away slightly leaving him out of touch.

“Tsk tsk,” Eddie smirked. “You gotta be patient, baby. I’ll take care of you.” His hand returned to your face and cupped your cheeks as he gave you a filthy kiss filled with lust.

Eddie continued to kiss down your body until he reached the band of his sweatpants. He placed a wet kiss right above the band of his sweatpants and used his fingers to play with the band.

“Can I?” Eddie asked to which you nodded. “I need you to talk, princess.”

“Yes, please take them off.” You groaned in frustration. Eddie took the band of his sweatpants in his teeth and slowly dragged them down exposing the lacey pair of underwear you had worn for your date tonight. You didn’t even wear the underwear for Jason. You just wanted to wear them for yourself.

“Fuck,” you heard Eddie groan under his breath over your clothed cunt. Eddie lazily dragged his fingers down your clothed slit, smirking at the sight of you squirming. He lowered his face near your core when your breath hitched.

“I’ve never-” you began, watching Eddie slowly raise his head.

“You’re telling me that Steve never ate you out?” Eddie asked, almost angrily. You shook your head no. “That’s just not gonna do, princess. Do you trust me?”

“With my life, Eds.” You whispered. As soon as those words left your mouth, Eddie leaned down and planted a light kiss right over your clothed clit. If you weren’t so turned on, you may not have been able to feel it.

You bucked your hips as Eddie reached for the band of your underwear and slowly shimmed them down your body and he placed them right into the pocket of his pajama pants. “Jesus Christ,” he groaned to himself at the sight of your bare pussy. “You’re so wet. All this for me?” Eddie taunted.

“I’m always this wet for you, Munson.” You moaned. That’s all it took for Eddie to lay back down on the bed and start kissing up your thighs. The feeling of his rings wrapped around your upper thighs were enough to make you shiver. After he had kissed his way up your thighs, he flattened his tongue against your hole and licked from your hole to your throbbing clit. The initial contact between his tongue and your clit was enough to make you moan, the loudest you’ve ever moaned.

“God you taste so good, baby.” Eddie moaned into your cunt. “I could eat you for breakfast, lunch and dinner.” He continued to swirl his tongue around your clit as he slowly slid a finger inside of you, pumping it in and out. Your back immediately lifted off the bed as you began to grind on Eddie’s face.

“I’ve waited so long to hear you moan for me, baby.” Eddie groaned. The vibrations of him talking added to the pressure he was already applying to your clit.

“Just like that, fuck, you feel so good inside me, Eds.” You were able to gasp through your moans. If you listened closely enough, you were able to hear Eddie moaning too, desperately. The sounds of Eddie moaning mixed with the feeling of his tongue and his fingers were enough to push you over the edge. Eddie could feel you clench around his fingers, a sign that you were close. As his one hand was busy working you towards an orgasm, his other hand slowly reached up and interlaced his fingers with yours.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna-” you cried out before the cord in your lower belly snapped, causing you to orgasm all over Eddie’s face.

“Atta girl.” Eddie coached you as you continued to ride out your high on your face. When he lifted his face, his lips and nose were shiny, covered in you. “That was the fucking hottest thing I’ve ever done.” Eddie quickly moved back up the bed and showered you in kisses. The taste of cigarettes plus the faint taste of you on his tongue was enough to make you cum again.

You reached down and briefly touched Eddie’s throbbing cock through his sweatpants. “Your turn, my love.”

“I’m not one to turn down a blowjob, but if I don’t get to fuck you right now, I’m actually going to lose my mind.” Eddie laughed as he continued kissing you. You laid back in the bed as you watched him take off his sweatpants and his boxers. Your eyes almost fell out of your head because of how big he was.

“Fuck, Eddie.” You had to stop yourself from drooling at the sight of him. His throbbing cock was dripping with beads of precum, anxiously waiting to be inside of you. Eddie reached to his nightstand and brought out a condom before rolling it on his cock.

He leaned over you and placed a sloppy kiss on your lips. He took his cock in his hands and started lazily trailing it up your slit and resting the tip right on your clit, causing you to whimper.

“Eddie if you don’t fuck me right now I’m gonna hit you,” you groaned frustrated. You felt so empty and all you wanted was to feel him slam into you.

“Such a dirty girl. You just can’t wait for my cock, huh?” Eddie teased.

“I just want you so bad. I’ve always wanted you.” You grabbed his face and roughly kissed him, and he took that as the opportunity to slowly push himself into you. Your open mouth kiss quickly turned into a moan as you felt yourself trying to adjust to his length.

“You alright, princess?” Eddie whispered.

“Yes. God, you’re so big. Biggest cock in Hawkins.” You kissed him more as he continued to push into you. Eddie continued to push into you as you cried out.

“Alright, sweetheart. You’ve got all of me.” Eddie groaned as he started to slowly move in and out. As he started to move out, you wrapped your legs around his waist, not wanting him to go anywhere.

“Christ, Eddie. Can’t believe I’ve been missing out on this,” you groaned as you started to leave scratches up and down his back. Every time your nails would scrape his skin, he would filthily moan into your mouth. You whimpered every time his guitar necklace would dangle and tickle your neck. The two of you just kept making the dirtiest noises, and neither of you could get enough.

“This is so fucking embarassing, but I’m not gonna last much longer.” Eddie moaned into your mouth as his pace began to quicken.

“It’s okay, Eds. Me too.” You whimpered as Eddie continuously hit your g-spot. As he got closer, he reached down and started rubbing circles around your clit, causing you to tightly clench around his length.

“I’m gonna cum, baby.” Eddie groaned and at the same exact time, you came around his cock. As he was still inside you, his forehead gently laid on top of yours. His bangs stuck to the sweat that was dripping down your forehead.

“That was…” You started.

“Incredible.” He finished. He slowly pulled himself out of you, causing you to shiver because of how sensitive you were. Eddie rolled next to you to catch his breath for a moment. “I’ll be right back.” He kissed you on the forehead before rolling out of bed and grabbing you a change of clothes and a wet washcloth.

“Here… let me,” Eddie softly said while spreading your legs open and cleaning you off with the wash cloth. No man has ever done this for you before and it makes your heart feel so full. “I left your change of clothes in the bathroom. Go get changed and I’ll get us a snack.” He placed a kiss on your lips before leaving the room to go to the kitchen.

All you could do was lay in his bed and smile like a fucking idiot.

***

It’s been three years since you and Eddie professed your love for one another. You expected these years to go differently, but every year was another challenge. Hawkins had become cursed. Monsters roamed the town that you called home. Your friend, Barb, was killed. You watched as Billy was impaled by a gigantic monster in the middle of the mall. And now your sister was being targeted by a powerful wizard, whom we cannot see. Max was only being targeted after Vecna had killed Chrissy.

Chrissy was truly struggling, so you offered for her to come over Eddie’s house to smoke and help get her mind off of everything. Since you and Eddie became a couple, you were able to mend your relationships with Chrissy, Steve and even Nancy. All that mattered was that you and Eddie had each other. But now that Chrissy was killed in Eddie’s trailer, the entire town of Hawkins had labeled Eddie as a “Satanic Murderer”.

You had spent the entire week in hiding with Eddie. You’d rather the town label you as a Satanic Murderer than leave Eddie alone. It had been an exhausting week, but you had been hopeful that the group would find a solution.

The two of you spent the week reminiscing on your years together, even when you two were just friends. The nights you would spend over at his trailer, sprawled out on Eddie’s bed looking at him with nothing but pure love in your eyes as he strummed on his guitar. The time the two of you volunteered at the Snowball dance for the kids. The Christmases you would spend at the Munson trailer with Eddie and Wayne where it would end with Eddie mercilessly beating you in a snowball fight.

The only solution anyone could come up with was that you all had to go to the Upside Down yourselves to kill Vecna. There was no other way.

You kissed Max on the forehead as she made her way into the Creel House. “I love you, Max. I’ll see you soon, alright?” You had to stop the tears from escaping your eyes. “Lucas… take care of her.” You hugged Lucas as they left the RV that Eddie stole.

The plan was that Steve, Robin, and Nancy were to go to the Creel House in the Upside Down to kill Vecna. You stuck with Eddie and Dustin, as you were all tasked with creating a diversion for the demobats.

Eddie and Dustin set up an amp on the top of Eddie’s trailer so he could play his guitar to lure the bats right to us. As he played, you sat next to Dustin with tears in your eyes. A part of you was completely fucking terrified. In the distance, you saw the bats start to fly towards the trailer.

“Let’s go!” You yelled at Dustin and Eddie as you jumped off the top of the trailer. Dustin and Eddie followed right after you. As the three of you were safely in the trailer, the group of you jumped up and down, celebrating how badass that was.

You hugged Dustin and then latched your arms around Eddie’s neck, tightly. Never wanting to let him go.

“Alright, let’s get out of here.” Dustin said, grabbing on to the rope before stopping. There was a weird noise coming from the back of the trailer.

“What’s that?” You questioned, before bats started letting themselves into the trailer one by one. The three of you must’ve missed something while you were protecting the trailer.

“Shit! Dustin, go!” You screamed at Dustin as he climbed up the rope and flipped upside down on Eddie’s bed.

“Go, baby! I’m right behind you!” Eddie handed you the rope and rubbed the bottom of your back as he nudged you up the rope. Your muscles burned as you pulled yourself up but then you flipped over on Eddie’s bed, right next to Dustin. You pushed yourself up to see Eddie just standing there, his gaze moving from the gate to the bats.

“Eddie?” You whimpered, unsure what he was doing.

“EDDIE! COME ON!” Dustin yelled, his hands on his head in distress.

Eddie looked us through the gate before making direct eye contact with me, “I’m sorry.” He lifted his makeshift weapon and used it to cut the rope down, destroying the tether from our world to the Upside Down.

“Eddie, no.” Your voice was barely above a whisper. You didn’t know what he was doing.

“EDDIE! WHAT ARE YOU DOING? NO!” Dustin continued to yell.

“I’m buying more time.” Eddie said before moving the other mattress out of the way and running out of the trailer. Your blood had run cold, your eyes unable to focus on what was happening. Dustin was trying to find a ladder or something he could use to jump through the gate.

“Dustin, you need to hoist me up there. And then you need to go.” You grabbed Dustin by the shoulders, trying to get him to pay attention.

“No,” Dustin whimpered.

“DUSTIN! You need to get me up there!” You raised your voice, immediately feeling guilty. You had never raised your voice at Dustin. He was like your little brother.

“Okay, okay. On three.” Dustin sadly shook his head and began to count up to three.

One…Two…Three…

You jumped on Dustin’s hands as they pushed you up to the gate. Your hands had grabbed onto the gate, enough for you to push yourself through. After mustering up the strength, you were able to push yourself enough that you fell right through, right onto the hard floor of Eddie’s trailer.

“FUCK,” you screamed in pain. You had clearly landed on your ankle wrong, but that didn’t matter to you. You needed to find Eddie. Dustin was shouting your name from the other side but you paid no attention to him as you ran out of the trailer and into the Upside Down.

You burst through the doors and looked all around, about half a mile away, a herd of demobats surrounded Eddie. He was laying on the ground, trying to fight them off but obviously failing.

“HEY! OVER HERE! COME AND GET ME!” You screamed loud enough to get the bats attention. You started banging on every gate you could to get them to get off of Eddie. As the bats started to fly towards you, all you could see was that Eddie wasn’t moving.

Just as the bats were about to get to you, they suddenly stopped in their path just to turn around and fly in the completely opposite direction. Most likely towards the Creel House. Towards Steve, Nancy, and Robin, but you didn’t care right now.

It took you a minute to limp over to Eddie, who still wasn’t moving.

“Eddie?” You whimpered, as you knelt down to him. His chest was moving up and down very slightly.

“There’s my beautiful girl.” He coughed out. Spurts of blood dribbled on his chin as he coughed.

“We have to get you out of here, Eds.” You tried to stay calm and lift him up. He was completely limp and you weren’t strong enough to lift him on your own. “Can you move?” All he did was shake his head.

“I…I didn’t run away, right? I just wanted to help.” He asked with tears in his eyes causing you to almost lose it.

“No, sweetheart. You didn't run.” You caressed his cheeks in your hands and wiped his tears with your thumb.

“I love you so much. I’m gonna miss you,” Eddie whimpered before turning his head slightly to kiss your hand. This is when you just let your tears come out. There’s no point in trying to fight them anymore.

“I will love you for the rest of my life, Eddie Munson.” You closed your eyes and knelt down to plant a soft kiss on Eddie’s lips. When you lifted your head, you noticed he wasn’t moving. He wasn’t blinking. He wasn’t Eddie, not anymore.

“Eddie?” You whispered, as you started to shake him slightly. He still wasn’t moving. Sobs started to escape your mouth as you didn’t have the strength to hold them in anymore. You held his head in your hands, slightly closing his eyes to make it look like he was sleeping. Eddie was always so pretty when he slept.

Steve, Nancy, and Robin started running towards you screaming that you had to go. They stopped dead in their tracks as they realized what had happened.

Nancy and Robin stood there with their hands covering their mouths. Steve came running over to you and crouched next to you and whispered your name, “We have to go.”

“I can’t leave him here. I can’t leave him here!” You sobbed onto Eddie’s shirt. Steve didn’t have the choice but to pick you up and throw you over his shoulder as you screamed and cried.

“NO! STEVE! PUT ME DOWN! NO! EDDIE!” You screamed and sobbed and choked. As Steve walked back to the trailer, the vision of Eddie laying in the middle of the trailer park became more and more faint. You had just left him there. The love of your life. The bane of your existence.

***

The worst part about mourning Eddie is that you couldn’t mourn him. Though most of Hawkins was in ruins, everyone was celebrating the fact that Eddie Munson was presumed dead. The town was relieved to know that such a scary man had perished in the “earthquake” that shook the town. No one knew that Eddie had died for them. He died to give Hawkins a chance at a better future.

You sat outside on a park bench in silence with Wayne Munson. Dustin had told him what happened a few days prior, but this was the first time you saw Wayne since Eddie died. As soon as he laid eyes on you, the two of you completely fell apart. You melted in his arms as you started to sob.

After your sobs started to subside, the two of you just sat in each other's presence. You started to reminisce on times you and Eddie shared together. Times you’ll never get back.

“Don’t you think it’s weird that we’ve only been friends for like, six months? I feel like we’ve been friends longer than that.” Eddie laughed after taking a hit of his joint. The two of you were extremely high and at this point, you would just say stupid shit to one another.

“It’s because we’re birds of a feather, Munson.” You laughed while looking over at him, eyes full of love, but he didn’t notice. Not yet.

“What the fuck is that?” He said, dumbfounded.

“It means we’re kind of like the same person. Platonic soulmates, if you will.” You smiled up at him.

“That’s really profound. I like that. But birds are annoying,” Eddie smiled, getting higher by the second. “Wait, that’s even better. If you see a bird outside, that’ll just be…like… an extension of me. They can annoy you when I’m not around.”

You laughed, “What do you mean ‘when you’re not around’? You’re up my ass 24/7.”

“You never know, sweetheart. I gotta keep you on your toes.” Eddie took another hit of his joint.

You snapped back into reality with a sad smile on your face. You’ll miss those small conversations with Eddie more than anything. Just as you focused back on the present, a small bird, a baby finch, landed right next to you on the bench. All it did was look up at you for a moment before it flew away. Eddie.

#eddiemunson #Eddie Munson x reader #Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson fic #Joseph quinn #steve harrignton #Steve Harrington x reader #stranger things #stranger things 4 #Eddie Munson angst #Eddie Munson smut

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ashwhowrites · 1 year ago

Note

Can you please write Older! Eddie x reader who is the daughter of Jason or Billy, and he has a lot of power in Hawkins, Reader hates how his dad is and she starts dating Eddie but her dad doesn't approve that, but she's older and she can decide for herself who to date? (Can you please do it angst to fluff?)

On my knees for older! Eddie fics. I hope this is what you were looking for and you enjoy it <3

I added a little bonus angst at the end but still a happy ending. Little bits of smut talk because I have no self control.

I'm writing this as my boyfriend watches Spencer Reid instead of me who's on face time (naked)

Trailer trash hero

⚠️mentions/action of abuse

Y/N hated that everyone in town associated her with her dad, Jason Carver. He was the mayor of Hawkins and Y/N did not fit the look that her family had.

She resented her father, he criticized everything she did and always demanded more from her. She was sick and tired of it. After one huge argument, she went out to the bar, her fake ID never failed her and she prayed it didn't fail her today. Even if it did, she knew the owner and could easily get herself in. She was almost twenty-one anyway. A few months barely made a difference. She was sick of living under her father's roof. She needed a drink to take off the edge.

She sat on the small stool and ordered a drink. She took her time to slip on it slowly as her eyes looked around the bar. Her eyes caught a pair of brown that were staring right at her.

That was the night she met Eddie Munson.

~~~

After that night, she couldn't stop thinking about the handsome older man who talked to her all night long. His strong jaw, aged eyes, and deep voice. She kept going back to that bar, praying he'd be there. And he always was.

It didn't take long for them to start flirting and going on dates. Texting through all hours of the night. He was older, and mature. She couldn't lie, it turned her on. She was tired of boys, but Eddie? He was a man. And he fucked her way better than she's ever had.

After a few months, it became more serious. She admitted she was only twenty and still lived at home, but he didn't care. They spent night after night at his house, rolling her eyes through the lecture of her parents when she came home the next morning. But nothing stopped her from doing it again and again.

"We've been going out for almost a year, don't you think I should meet your parents?" Eddie asked, his face nuzzled in her neck, his slight facial hair tickling her as he laid on her. Her hands played with his long hair and scratched his neck slightly.

"Eddie, I love you and I love everything about you. But they are going to hate you." She laughed, Eddie rolled his eyes and removed himself from her neck. Looking up at her with a small smile.

"Even if they do, at least I know I made the effort." He said, even though he was in his forties, he knew how to use his puppy eyes.

"I'm scared." She admitted quietly. Eddie turned his head confused, wrapping his arm around her.

"It's just, my dad...he has a lot of power in this shitty town and he could easily tear us apart. I love you and I don't want him to ruin this for us." She explained, Eddie watched as the tears welled in her eyes. He quickly sat up and took her head in his hands, pecking her lips softly.

"No one would ever keep me away from you. I love you and I'm not going to let anyone stop us, okay? Let's just try. And if it goes south, we don't worry about it. We'll do us."

Somehow Eddie convinced her and as she held his hand as they walked up to her front door, she regretted it.

"Hey, look at me. We'll do this together." He smiled, squeezing her hand as he knocked on the door.

"Just be polite." She warned.

As the door swung open, Eddie found himself looking in the past.

"Mom!" Y/N cheered, letting go of Eddie's hand as she wrapped her arms around her.

"Eddie!" Chrissy panicked, seeing the tall and older man over her daughter's shoulder.

"Chrissy, what a surprise," Eddie said, awkwardly scratching his head as he took her in. He was dating Chrissy's daughter, how the fuck did he get himself in this position.

"You know each other?" Y/N asked, looking between the two as they stared at each other.

"Yeah, he was a high school friend. What is he doing here?" Chrissy asked, praying he wasn't the guest Y/N asked to bring.

"He's my boyfriend, and he wanted to meet you guys," Y/N said, now feeling even more nervous about the situation. Her parents went to the same high school if Chrissy knew Eddie....her father did.

"I had no idea she was your daughter." Eddie clarified, holding his hands up in surrender as he cringed under Chrissy's familiar glare.

"He's going to murder you, Munson," Chrissy warned but welcomed him in. She always liked Eddie, but Jason was never a fan.

"Is he home yet?" Y/N asked, she knew this was a bad idea. Maybe they had time to run and hide.

"He's on his way. And he already is unhappy knowing you have a boyfriend that you spend the night with...and once he knows it's Eddie Munson that you are sleeping over with, he's going to flip. But I will try my best to keep him collected." Chrissy said. But she tried to treat him like he was just her daughter's boyfriend.

"Well I'll set up the table while you show Eddie around," Chrissy said, walking towards the kitchen. Smiling Eddie immediately reached for Y/N's hand as they began their tour of the house.

Y/N showed Eddie around, trying to cover the portraits of her on the wall.

"I am not surprised Chrissy put you in a beauty pageant, and I'm not surprised you won." Eddie laughed, looking at the small girl in the frame.

"Careful Eddie, that little girl is definitely underage." Y/N joked

"Yeah, but luckily this one isn't." He smirked, giving her ass a small smack when she turned. As they looked at more pictures and ended up in her bedroom, she was dying to ask.

"Did you get along with either of my parents?"

"Your mom was cool with me. But your dad hated me, and I'm sure that hasn't changed. He made my life hell." Eddie explained, and Y/N felt bad. She knew her father was a pain in the ass and it sucked to know he treated Eddie so poorly.

"Well, I hate him too. And honestly, I'm glad he's going to hate you. Because he'll forever have to live with the fact that his precious daughter is fucking the bad boy from his high school." Y/N smirked, crawling on his lap, her soft bed underneath them as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Mhhm I agree," Eddie moaned as she sucked on his neck, "he's going to throw a little bitch fit. He thought I'd do nothing with my life. But seeing you with me, definitely proving him wrong."

"He's going to be rude and an ass. But don't let him get in your head. You're amazing, handsome, successful, and can achieve anything. Don't listen to him." She explained, moving away from his neck to kiss his lips.

"Definitely gonna listen to the one who will be sucking me off tonight." He smirked, his hand around her throat as he held her close to him. Kissing her hard as she moaned against him.

"Y/N!" Chrissy yelled from downstairs, Y/N pulled away from Eddie, kissing him softly, then moving off of his lap. She grabbed his hand and took a deep breath.

"Ready?" Eddie asked, kissing her forehead as she nodded.

"Mhhm, so is the hickey." She said smirking.

Y/N walked down the stairs, Eddie behind her as he followed close. The front door was empty so she walked into the kitchen. Her parents sat at the dining table as she walked up.

"Dad, this is Eddie. My boyfriend." She watched as her dad looked up, anger filling his eyes as he stood up.

"Jason, be nice," Chrissy warned but it was too late, Jason was already storming towards them. He harshly yanked Y/N away, her hand removed from Eddie's as she yelped. Eddie looked at her, but she nodded that she was fine. Her father's grip was tight on her wrist.

"Get the fuck out of my house, you freak," Jason growled, but Eddie stood his ground.

"Now Jason, is that any way to talk to a guest? Especially one that is your daughter's boyfriend?" Eddie teased, but his teasing only made Jason's grip become more bruising.

"You are not dating my daughter. I don't know what kind of sick game you are playing. But she isn't going to be your little game piece."

"I didn't even know she was your kid until I got here. This isn't some sick game of revenge. Y/N isn't a game piece. We are in a relationship, a committed and loving relationship. You aren't ruining this for us." Eddie explained, his eyes on Jason but flickering to his grip on Y/N.

"There isn't a relationship. She is never seeing you again. Y/N get upstairs, you are grounded." Jason barked, his eyes turning to her.

"Jason, calm down." Chrissy tried

"NO! I'm an adult and you can't ground me. I'm not breaking up with him!" Y/N argued, trying to yank her wrist away but his grip was too tight.

"YES YOU ARE! Get upstairs, NOW!" He screamed in her face. Eddie didn't like the way Y/N was shaking.

"Let go of her." Eddie barked, Jason's head snapped to him.

"You don't tell me what to do."

"You're hurting her, let her go," Eddie growled, moving closer slowly.

"DON'T COME NEAR US!" Jason's grip was somehow tightening.

"Dad, please. You're hurting me." Y/N pleaded, tears in her eyes as her wrist burned.

"SHUT UP!" he screamed, his attention on her as he gripped her tighter. "I GAVE YOU EVERYTHING! AND YOU NEVER RESPECT ME. YOU GO OUT TO BARS, SLEEPING WITH GOD KNOWS WHO. I DIDN'T RAISE YOU TO BE A SLUT!"

"I'M NOT! EDDIE IS THE ONLY GUY I'VE BEEN WITH SINCE HIGH SCHOOL!" she yelled back. Chrissy cried as she tried to scream for them to stop. She worriedly looked at Eddie, he was slowly moving closer.

"AND ONLY LOW-LIFE SLUTS HAVE EVER GONE OUT WITH TRAILER TRASH EDDIE MUNSON!"

"YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW HIM! HE ISN'T TRASH. HE'S A DAMN GOOD GUY, HE HAS HIS OWN COMPANY, AND HE HAS A BEAUTIFUL HOUSE. A HOUSE WHERE WE FUCK EVERYWHERE. HELL, WE EVEN FUCK IN PUB-"

The room fell silent when Jason's hand raised and went across Y/N's face. The loud smack echoed as Eddie raced to yank Jason away.

"NO DAUGHTER OF MINE WILL BE A DISRESPECTFUL SLUT! YOU DON'T TALK TO ME LIKE THAT. AND YOU ARE BANNED FROM SEEING HIM! GET OFF OF ME!"

Y/N sobbed as she felt the heat on her cheek, embarrassed of the way her father reacted in front of her boyfriend. Chrissy raced to Eddie and Jason, trying to get them apart.

But Eddie wasn't calm, and he wasn't ever going to be calm around Jason. Eddie tackled Jason to the floor, his fist connecting with Jason's nose. Jason yelled in pain and punched Eddie back. The two were rolling around and landing punches on each other.

"JASON! STOP!" Chrissy begged, screaming as she tried to yank Jason's arm while he was on top of Eddie.

"Y/N HELP!" her mom screamed, Y/N quickly raced to them, and Jason tackled Eddie into the table, both crashing through the glass. Both groaned in pain, Y/N raced to Eddie's side, not caring about the glass as she kneeled right next to him.

His face was bloody, and bruising. She cupped his face as she ran her thumb over his skin. "I'm so sorry. I'm sorry." She sobbed, and Eddie groaned as he grabbed her hand.

"Baby, the glass. Careful." He moaned as he tried to shift. But his body ached everywhere.

Jason didn't take much of the fall since he landed on Eddie. Quickly rising to his feet he grabbed Y/N by her arm to drag her away. Her legs scraped against the class as she cried out in pain.

"I SAID DON'T FUCKING TOUCH HER!" Eddie screamed, all his adrenaline helping him race to his feet. Wrapping his arm around Jason's waist he threw them both to the ground. Eddie's hand wrapped around Jason's throat, squeezing as the anger rushed over his body.

"EDDIE! STOP!" Chrissy screamed, terrified as she shook but raced to Y/N. She carefully picked her up, but Y/N pushed her off. She used all her strength to race to Eddie.

"BABY! STOP! YOU'LL KILL HIM" she panicked. Eddie snapped his eyes to her, taking in her red cheek, with Jason's handprint, and her bloody legs as the cuts bled. It only angered him more.

"He hurt you" Eddie growled, squeezing Jason's neck harder as Jason clawed at his grip.

"I KNOW! I KNOW. BUT THINK! YOU'LL GET LOCKED UP IN PRISON!" Y/N tried to reason with him, slowly moving closer as she begged Eddie to let Jason go.

"Just like your dad" Jason choked out from under Eddie's grip. Eddie glared down at him but removed his hand. Jason gasped for air as he tried to shove Eddie off of him.

Eddie grabbed Jason by his shirt collar, nose to nose as he growled down at him. "I will never be like him. You are so lucky I love your daughter enough to not kill you right here, right now. If you ever touch her again, you won't be so lucky." Dropping Jason his head smacked against the floor, passing out.

Eddie stood up and Y/N raced into his arms. "I got you, baby" Eddie cooed as she sobbed into his chest. Her breathing was uneven as she panicked.

"I'm so sorry" Chrissy apologized, sobbing as she watched Eddie hold her daughter.

Eddie didn't say a word, carefully grabbing Y/N in his arms as he carried her to the door.

"EDDIE!" Chrissy yelled after them, but he kept going, opening the door as he carried her out. But Chrissy raced after them.

"PLEASE!" She screamed again. But Eddie ignored her, placing Y/N softly in his passenger seat. He buckled her and softly kissed her lips.

"Stay right here. I'm going to pack you a bag, we'll go to the hospital, and then we'll go to my house. Okay?" He said softly, she nodded as she rested her head against the seat.

Eddie shut the door and walked right into Chrissy. "Please, I just want to say goodbye." She begged.

"Did you let him do it before?" Eddie asked, his eyes dark as he looked down at her. Chrissy shook her head confused as she tried to look over his shoulder to see Y/N.

"Have you let him touch her before?" Eddie asked again, this time more demanding.

"No! He's never done that." Chrissy confirmed, Eddie sighed and let her go, racing into the house to pack Y/N's belongings. He grabbed everything he could, making sure he grabbed the things he heard her talk about the most and her favorite clothes.

By the time he made it out to his van, Chrissy was saying goodbye. Tears down her face as she kissed Y/N's head.

"I have to get her to the hospital," Eddie said as he threw the bags in the back. Chrissy nodded and stepped back, her hand grabbing Eddie's arm before he could leave.

"Take care of her, please."

"Always have and always will," Eddie promised, slamming the door shut. He started the van and took off towards the hospital.

"How are you feeling, baby?" He asked, looking over at her as she smiled at him.

"Told you it was a bad idea." She said, a teasing smile on her bruised face.

"...yeah. I should just always listen to you." He teased back, his soft hand landing on her thigh as he rubbed it softly.

"Listen to the one who's gonna suck you off." She repeated his words from earlier with a giggle.

"I love you." He said, smiling at her as he turned to get on the highway.

"I love you too, my hero." She leaned over and kissed his cheek.

Eddie pulled up to the hospital, carrying her in as he explained the situation. The nurses and doctors worked on her as Eddie got checked out for his cuts and bruises. He waited impatiently until he was able to see her.

"You can see her now." Eddie raced into her room at the news, sitting beside her as he held her hand.

"I'm all good! A few stitches from the glass but otherwise we are good to go!" Eddie nodded and helped her stand up, making their way out to his van.

"Ready to go to my place?" He asked, opening the door as she slid in.

"Let's go home, Munson."

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergentreblogs @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson request #eddie munson angst #eddie munson angst x reader #eddie munson fluff x reader #eddie munson angst to fluff #Eddie Munson fluff #eddie munson angst x female reader #ashwhowrites #older eddie munson x reader

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its-vannah · 2 years ago

Text

Another Love | Graham Dunne x Reader

Request from anonymous: more graham and reader with probs the inspo being the weezer song (I just threw out the love of my dreams)/ an unrequited love

A/N: This was so hard to write. It drained me, but I'm happy with the end product. There's no happy ending in this one, really onlt angst. Hope you guys enjoy and please feel free to request more. I write for Graham, Eddie, and Warren.

Warnings: Mentions of drugs (mescaline), unrequited love, implied sex, blood, profanities

Daisy Jones and The Six Masterlist

Part One | Part Two| Part Three

Unrequited love. The leading cause of heartbreak not only in America, but in the rest of the world, too. It's that feeling in the pit of your stomach that sits there and never really goes away, no matter how many times you try to stop thinking about it. It plagues you, haunting every memory you have. You're left to wonder what could have been if, how things could have been different if. It's always an "if", always ending in a question mark and not a period.

You're love for Graham Dunne had never wavered in the twenty two years you had been in love with him. Not when he took your hand and guided you around the neighborhood because he was your fiercest, if not smallest, protector. It only grew when the two of you kissed each other under the bleachers at a high school football game, getting it out of the way with "no strings attached" before you opened yourselves up for dating. It didn't stop when he got his first girlfriend and you were left thirdwheeling. It didn't even begin to fade when he moved out to LA to pursue music while you stayed behind in Pittsburgh, destined for a typical 9-5 job.

Graham had his fair share of girlfriends, especially after The Dunne Brothers was formed. His role in the band, while not as popular as Billy, was prominent. He was cute, naive. But apparently so were you.

When you had heard the news that the band was on tour, set to stop in Pittsburgh, you reached out to Camila to confirm if it was really them. Of course, you had every album they had released, including 7,8,9—their newest.

"Camila," You had said into your phone, twisting the cord around your fingers, "Have they changed any since I last saw them? It's been, what, a couple years now, hasn't it?"

She sighed into the phone, "Other than Billy and I being parents? No, I don't think so. Warren is the same as ever, Eddie's a little more irritiable though. You'll meet Karen, she's got a no bullshit attitude. You'll love her. Your Graham still looks like a deer in headlights anytime he sees a pretty girl."

"Got it. And you? Are you coming?" You asked, hopeful you'd be able to see her again after so long.

"I'm going to try. I'll have to take Julia with me, though. It won't be easy, I'm a few months pregnant, Y/N."

Eyes widening, you smiled, "Oh, Cami, congratulations."

"Thank you, really, it's been hard being away from family. But I've got Billy and the boys, Karen, too, so it's not all bad. They're excited to see you, Y/N. Especially Graham. He hadn't stopped telling everyone about you since they scheduled Pittsburgh on the tour."

"He's been talking about me?"

She laughed on the other end of the phone, "Everyone already knows you, except for Daisy. But he can't help himself. He's like a kid on Christmas, dying to see you."

Trying to steady your breathing, you took a deeo breath, "Well, I'll see you guys in a few weeks, then. Keep me posted on how you're doing, though. Being pregnant on the road can't be easy."

"I will, Y/N," She said, "We'll see you soon. Julia, can you say bye to Y/N?"

"Bye bye!" A smile voice said on the other end of the phone.

Your heart melted a bit, "Bye Cami, bye Julia. See you soon."

With that, you hung up, your heart beating out of your chest.

You only had to wait a few more weeks before you saw him. It shouldn't be that hard.

-----------------

You met with the band at the concert venue, holding a bouquet of flowers in one hand and a bix of Graham's favorite chocolates in the other.

As soon as the van doors opened, Eddie opened the passenger door, sliding out onto the pavement. The two of you had known each other since middle school, but it was hard to believe it was him. He had changed. He had grown into his body, looking more confident than he had in the eighth grade.

He gave you a warm smile, pulling you into a side hug, "How are you, Y/N?"

"I'm doing good, just glad to see you guys. And you, you're doing good?"

"Couldn't be happier," He said, his smile faltering slightly as he spoke. Something had happened, you just weren't sure what it was.

Billy was the next out, helping a pregnant Camilla out of the van with one hand, his other supporting Julia.

Camilla waddled towards you, arms out before you could even say hello. Taking her daughter from her husband, she introduced her to you with a big smile.

Kneeling down, you handed Julia the small bouquet of flowers, "These are for you and your mama, Julia."

The girl gasped, hugging them to her chest as she looked up at her mother, jumping excitedly.

Camila mouthed a "thank you" and then looked back at Graham, who stood still, his eyes locked on yours.

Giving you a wink, she picked Julia up and followed Billy to scout out the venue.

As soon as she stepped to the side, you were being scooped up by Graham. He twirled you around, squeezing you so tight you found it hard to breathe.

When he finally set you down, you grabbed his arms for support, laughing at his straight-forwardness.

"It's good to see you, too, Graham," You said, pulling him in for another hug, "It's been too long. Pittsburgh isn't the same without it's favorite Dunne."

"I don't think I'm the favorite Dunne," He said, sheepishly scratching the back of his neck.

You shrugged, "Maybe not, but you're my favorite."

"Then that's all that matters."

From the side of the van, a woman cleared her throat, looking expectantly at Graham to introduce her.

"Oh! Y/N, this is Karen, our keyboardist. She's British."

Karen stepped forward, nodding to you with a smile before looking at the younger Dunne, "Are those the only words you could think of to describe me?"

"I was put on the spot."

"And how would you describe her?"

Graham smiled, "Karen, this is my best friend in the whole world. We've known each other since we were in diapers."

Coming from the driver's side of the van, Warren walked towards you with outstretched arms, "Pears!"

"Pears?" Karen asked, looking at the drummer.

"Peaches and pears," Warren explained, nodding towards you and Graham, "Had to find some way to embarrass them, Karen Karen."

"Alright," She laughed, "How much mescaline have you had today, Rojas?"

He shrugged, "Enough to make the drive fun."

----------------

At dinner that night, you were seated next to Graham, and across from Eddie and Camila.

"So, Y/N/N, what have you been up to? Still in school?"

"No, I graduated in May, actually. I start my new job next week."

He clapped your back, "No way! Congrats, Y/N/N. I wish I could've been there to see your graduation."

"It's all good. I've been busy, anyway. What about you guys? Anything planned for after the tour?"

Graham nodded, taking a bite of his food, "Something big that Billy would kill me for talking about. Let's just say you'll have to buy our next record."

You released a breathy laugh, shaking your head, "I've still got your first two in my apartment."

"So, you seeing anyone?" He asked.

Was this some sort of code? Was this his way of preparing to ask you out? You had already waited twenty two years for this.

"No, I'm not. How about you?"

Before he could answer, Julia's cries filled the room. Camila looked around, apologizing as she began rocking her slowly, trying to calm the toddler down. Another tantrum, you guessed. Every bit as fiery as her father.

The conversation continued for another hour without you ever getting an answer to whether he was seeing anyone. You felt wrong bringing it back up since he had already moved on to telling you about the concerts they had been playing the past few weeks.

By the time the check came, you weren't ready to end the night. But they had an early morning tomorrow, with rehearsals and the concert. You understood and bid your goodbyes.

As they drove off, you walked to your car. But you didn't have your purse on you.

Walking back in the restaurant, you went back to your table, finding your purse hanging on the back of a wooden chair, along with Graham's wallet on the table.

Deciding to drop it off at their hotel, you got in your car and started driving.

-------

When you got out of your car, the first person you saw was Eddie, leaning against a pillar while taking a drag of his cigarette.

He straightened when he saw you, a smile on his face, "Y/N, I didn't know you were coming over."

"Me neither," You laughed, "But Graham forgot his wallet."

"I'll walk you in. They won't let you go in without one of us," Eddie said, putting out the flame of his cigarette in an ashtray.

You thanked him, following him inside the hotel and to the elevator.

Making small talk on the way up, you were reminded of how kind Eddie was. He was the most sensible of the group. Not blunt like Karen, not naive like Graham. He wasn't as tough as Billy or as laid-back as Warren. Camila had always been the voice of reason, but Eddie was outspoken.

He led you to Graham's door, knocking on it a few times.

When the door swung open, Graham was standing on the other side, less than half dressed.

Eddie stepped to the side, revealing you behind him.

A surprised expression settled over the youngest Dunne brother, "Y/N, what're you doing here?"

You dug his wallet out of your pocket, "You left this at the restaurant. Can't really go anywhere without it."

He smiled, taking it from you, "Thanks, I appreciate it. You have—"

From inside the room, a woman's voice rang out, "Graham, get the fuck back inside and finish what you started."

It wasn't just any woman, though. It was Karen.

You saw her shoes in the middle of the room from where you were standing, clothes strewn on the floor and dresser.

"I'll leave you to it," You said, swallowing the bile that rose in your throat.

Did he know your heart was breaking? You wouldn't wish that feeling on anyone. It was the worst feeling in the world.

Turning on your heel, Graham didn't bother calling out behind you. He just closed his door, going back to what he hadn't finished.

God, you hated saying that.

Eddie walked beside you, taking notes of your expression. But he waited to say anything until he got in the elevator, "I'm sorry, Y/N. I didn't... I didn't know they were together. Not just in there, but at all."

You stayed silent, unable to look at him. It wasn't his fault, but you were about to crumble.

"Y/N? Are you okay?"

That's what broke you. Falling into his side, Graham leaned forward to catch you, his arms wrapping around your waist to support you as tears came rolling down your cheeks.

The elevator was filled with your sobs. You weren't the only one who's heart was breaking. Eddie had always hated seeing you like this.

When the doors opened, Warren appeared on the other side.

Eddie mouthed, "Go get him. Car."

He led you out to the car, a hand pressed on your back as he led you outside.

You slipped in the backseat with him, head resting on his shoulder.

"I thought... I thought he'd..." Your chest heaved, your hands frantically wiping your tears away, "I didn't... Eddie..."

"Shhh," He soothed, "You're going to be alright. I'm here, okay? I'm not going to leave you."

You nodded, clinging to his shirt as you tried to calm yourself.

That's when you heard a knock at your window.

Eddie reached over to open the door, Warren smiling down sympathetically at you.

"Pears, I've got somebody here to see you," He said softly, turning to his friend beside him, hissing, "Jesus Christ, zip it up, asshole."

That stung.

Graham poked his head through, "Y/N/N, what's wrong?"

Eddie glared at him. Another Dunne brother to add to his growing list of people he couldn't give two fucks about.

"Warren, are we interrupting something? I feel like we are."

"Get your head out of your ass, Dunne." Eddie snapped, gesturing towards you.

You pulled away from Eddie, "Can you give us a minute. Please?"

"I'll be right outside if you need me, okay?"

Nodding, you watched as he slid out of the car while Graham slid in, the doors shutting. You had never felt so alone.

"Y/N/N? What's wrong?"

"You, Graham. You're what's fucking wrong."

"I don't, I don't understand..."

You shook your head, "How long have we known each other?"

"Twenty two years."

"Do you love me?"

He nodded, "Of course I do."

"No, Graham, are you in love with me."

"Like—love love?" He asked, quite literally twiddling his thumbs.

"Y/N..." He trailed off.

Your head fell into your hands, inhaling sharply, "You may not be in love with me, Graham."

Sitting back up, you looked him in the eyes, "But I've been in love with you since we were in diapers. That hasn't changed. And it hurts, Graham, it hurts so much to see you with someone else. Because I love you. I always have."

He was silent, unsure of what to say.

"Um, Y/N... I... I'm sorry, I just... I don't think..."

"You didn't think anything of us being each other's first kiss? Nothing of us going to prom together two years straight? Me coming to all of your concerts? You coming to my recitals? Nothing? Absolutely nothing? I was so excited to see you, so excited. I was finally going to tell you how I felt. But I found you with another woman. You told me you had a long day and an early morning and that you couldn't hang out tonight. But you were just fucking your keyboardist."

"Y/N, she's not just my keyboardist."

Your nails dug into your hands, "Get out."

"What?"

"Get out, Graham. Out of my car."

"I'm sorry, I really am."

You pushed him away from you, screaming, "Get out!"

He didn't budge, trying to talk you down.

"I'll always love you, Y/N/N. But you're like my sister."

"I never want to see you again. Ever. I never want to have to look you in the eyes. I'm done, Graham. I'm done always being in second place.

He put a hand on your shoulder.

"So help me Graham, if you don't get out of my fucking car."

He got the message that time, his head bowed as he grasped the door handle.

Before he could leave, you muttered one final sentence, "I'm happy you found someone you love, Graham."

He didn't say anything, slamming the door and walking back inside the hotel.

You slammed your fists against the leather seats of your car, the thread hitting your knuckles just right so that they split open, oozing blood.

It burned, the blood on your hands as you tried to apply pressure.

The car door opened a few minutes later, Eddie sliding back in beside you. Taking note of your bloody hands, he slipped out of his shirt, leaving himself in a white undershirt.

He wrapped the sleeve around your bloody knuckles, pressing down on the wound.

Tears began spilling down your cheeks again and you leaned into him, your head in his chest as he stroked your hair, promising that you'd be okay.

Like you, Eddie had his handful of unrequited love. First Camila, then you. But like Graham, you were to blind to see that.

#fanfiction #daisy jones and the six fanfic #daisy jones #daisy jones fanfic #daisy jones & the six #daisy jones and the six #dj&ts #djats #graham dunne x y/n #graham dunne x reader #grahamdunne #graham dunne #graham dunne x you #taylor reid #taylor jenkins reid

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hippiegoth97 · 3 months ago

Text

Hangman's Joke: An Eddie Munson x Reader Halloween Special (The Crow AU) Part Four

Collage by me :)

Master List

Special Thanks to @keikoraven for beta reading for me <3

Part One / Part Two / Part Three

Tag List: @ar-jupiter @alcielo1438 @cairro-xx @stolen-in-moonlight

@micheledawn1975 @janiejenn @rafeyscurtainbangs @melodymunson @spacedoutdaydreamer

@veemoon @sariahs-stuff @feral-pumpkin-energy @comeonatmebruh @munsoneightysixx

@morgthemagpie @josephquinnsfreckles @jenniquinn @userchai @cometzombie

@spookybabey @daggerdaggerkitten @nina6708 @sanctumdemunson @yourdailymemedelivery

@person-005 @slowandsteddie @gri959 @elegantkoalapaper @letitgoandletlive

@loserboysandlithium @costellation-hunter @leelei1980 @h-ness1944 @pretendthisnameisclever

@ohmeg @stalactitekilla @hellfirenacht @birdysaturne @oneforthemunny

@prettyboyeddiemunson @eddievanmunson @msgexymunson @rattkween86 @violetpixiedust

@bimbobaggins69 @angel-munson @eldermayfield @munsonsbtch @bimbogorewhore

@mediocredreams @xxbimbobunnyxx @taintedcigs @ali-r3n @emxxblog

@cxrrodedcoffin @queenimmadolla @kellsck @keeksandgigz @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes

If anyone wants added/removed from tags please let me know <3

Content Warning 18+ Only, Minors DNI: swearing, smoking, fighting, abuse, blood, murder, violence, weapons, guns, gun violence, gore, death, animal death, character death, murder, angst, crying, happy ending

Word Count: 11.5k

divider by @strangergraphics

Part Four

October 31st, 1992

Max is woken up early in the morning to a pillow thrown at her face, followed by the covers being yanked off of her body. She lets out a small annoyed sound as she stirs, rolling over and reaching for the end of the blanket.

“Where the hell were you last night?” Billy’s voice hits her sleepy head like a brick, knocking her wide awake. Her eyes snap open, and she sits up in bed.

“I was over at Lucas’s house. Why is it any of your business?” Max sasses, getting out of bed, still wearing the clothes Y/N dressed her in last night. She goes over to her dresser, picking up a brush to sort out her hair. It’s always a tangled mess in the morning when she doesn’t put it up.

“It’s my business because Mom and Dad didn’t know where you were, and they chewed me out for it! Do the Sinclairs not have a phone?” Billy snarls, stepping closer to Max.

“It wouldn’t have to be your business if you moved out and stopped mooching off our parents.” Max mutters, running the firm bristles through her ginger locks.

“What was that?” Billy barks, just waiting for her to give him a reason to beat her sorry ass.

“I forgot to call. Sorry.” Max answers sheepishly, setting the brush down. She looks at Billy in the mirror’s reflection, finding his icy stare waiting for her.

“I know what people have been saying around town, Max. That somehow that satanic bitch is back, and killing my friends.” Billy says, his tone equal parts furious and sly. “You wouldn’t know anything about that, now, would you?” He asks, every word telling her she’s on dangerous ground.

“No.” Max scoffs, rolling her eyes. “She’s dead. Everybody knows that.” She adds nervously.

“Yeah, well, it seems somebody is out looking for revenge. But I can’t think of anyone who would give a rat’s ass enough to come after us in their name. Can you?” Billy stands right behind her now, having slowly approached during his unnerving questions.

“N-No.” She stutters, feeling his breath over her shoulder.

“That’s right. Because other than you, and that pig Hopper, no one cared about those fucking freaks.” He seethes, holding Max’s stare in the mirror with unfiltered malice. “Now, I’m givin’ you one last chance to tell the truth. Where were you last night? And where is that crazy bitch hiding out?” Billy commands, raising a hand to grip his little sister’s shoulder. He squeezes it hard, not intending to let go until she gives him what he wants.

“You’re crazy. Even if Y/N was alive, I’d never tell you where she is.” Max scoffs, playing up her skepticism. It’ll take a lot more than Billy’s typical threats to get her to spill the beans.

“Don’t fuckin’ lie to me, Max!” Billy yells, forcing her to turn around in his grip. “You tell me where she is, right now, goddamnit!” He frantically shakes her, hoping the answers will come spilling out.

“I don’t know! Stop acting crazy! Let me go!” Max squirms and flails, trying to break free from his grasp. But he’s bigger and stronger than her, so it's no use. She continues to scream, pounding her fists on his chest.

“Stop lying to me! I know she’s back! And I’m gonna kill her again! I swear to god, Max! Answer me!” Billy shouts back, his eyes growling wilder by the minute, murderous rage filling him from the inside out.

“I’ll never tell you!” Max cries, tears streaming down her cheeks in fear. Billy’s gone crazy on her before, many, many times. But never like this, so unhinged and monstrous. “Your friends got what they deserved! And soon enough, you’ll get yours, too!” She pounds harder on his chest, kicking up her leg to knee him in the crotch. She sticks the landing, sending Billy falling to the floor.

“Shit.” Billy gasps as the wind is knocked out of his chest, nearly collapsing onto the floor while clutching between his legs. Max runs from the room, rushing to find her jacket and shoes and make an escape. Her parents are out for the day, her mother doing the weekly shopping, while her father is bowling with his buddies from work. There’s no one to help her, and she needs to get out now. “Come back here, you little bitch!” He yells from her room, still waiting for the pain to pass before he can get up and go after her.

Max doesn’t respond, too preoccupied with struggling to pull her sneakers on. The left one is on, but the right is giving her trouble. Her foot just won’t go in at the correct angle, and her heart pounds in her ears as she tries to hurry. She can see Billy slowly climbing to his knees from her spot near the front door. She finally gets the other shoe on, slinging her jacket on next and grabbing her skateboard. Max goes for the door, stealing a look behind her to find Billy speeding her way. She lets out a scream, yanking the door open and running outside.

“Fuckin’ bitch! Get back here!” Billy growls as he misses her by an inch, the door slamming shut in his face. He turns the knob, throwing it back open in his pursuit. It slams against the inside of the house, and he finds Max attempting to drop her board and skate away. He hurries down the front steps, eager to catch up to her. She’s got one hell of an ass-kicking coming her way.

“Shit.” Max mutters as her wheels get stuck in a pile of rain-matted leaves sticking out past the gutter, kicking her foot to try and squeak through them. The wheels screech at her in protest, becoming more jammed up in the peat mess of foliage with every stroke of her leg. “C’mon, dammit!” She grunts in frustration. She’s about to abandon the board and run, when it finally pushes through and she nearly rockets forward just before Billy has the chance to snatch her up altogether. “Yes!” She cries in victory, adrenaline coursing through her as she speeds off.

“Get back here, Max! Right now!” Billy tries to keep up, running as fast as he can to match Max’s speed. But his athleticism is no match for a set of wheels. Once Max turns down the block, she's got too much ground on him to catch up. “Fuck!” He growls, balling his fists at his sides. He punches a nearby mailbox, leaving a large dent in the thin metal, as well as a bit of blood from his knuckles. He storms back inside, already forming a plan to stop this shit once and for all. He won’t let this bitch win, not a chance in hell. If he has to see to it that she’s cremated this time, so be it. He will not rest until Witch Bitch Munson is shuffled off this mortal coil once again. And he knows just who to call to help him out.

It’s an uncharacteristically clear day on Halloween morning, the sun poking through sparse clouds. The only traces of the intense storming throughout the previous night are soaked piles of dead leaves, and slow-drying puddles on the pavement outside. It’s a fresh new day, setting the perfect stage for your final act. You received just short of Hopper’s outright blessing, and Max is in a better place mentally after your short reunion. Talking to them both has helped you feel much better about the whole thing. They know it isn’t your fault that you’re back, and they hold no affection for the men who took you and Eddie away in the first place. Divine justice, Hop called it last night. Oddly spiritual, coming from him.

You’re itching to get this shitshow on the road already, but the crow warns you that danger is afoot. It appears Billy, the ringleader in your murder, doesn’t plan on going down easy. And in turn, neither will Jason. You can sense it all through the mind’s eye of the dark bird, hear their plotting and see the numbers they intend to amass this evening. A good ten other men will be gearing up with weapons of all sorts, and locking themselves down at Carver’s house. You can hear them making remarks about how good they’re gonna get you this time, how they’ll make the devil regret sending you back here. If they only knew the half of it. You recognize a couple of the guys from last night, surely they’ll regale the others with their tales of ‘satanic mind control’ to fan the vitriolic flames that burn inside of them all. You’re certainly in for a challenge, for once. And you’re looking forward to it, leaving all regret and shame at the door.

There’s something else, though, concealed from your view. You don’t know what it is, but it doesn’t feel good. The crow won’t allow you to see, for it will throw your mission off course. It’s like black feathers are flapping in your vision, dizzying your head when you try to focus on it. You’re annoyed that you aren’t allowed this small piece of knowledge, given how much the crow has consistently shown you throughout this experience. You only hope it doesn’t involve your friends getting hurt, you couldn’t rest peacefully if anything happened to them. You light up another cigarette, second to last in the pack, waiting for your cue to take a final bow once the sun goes down.

Hopper’s startled out of his beer-steeped slumber by a pounding on his door, making him roll over with a loud groan. He squints his eyes open, peeking at the clock on his bedside table. 9am, he should already be at the station by now. He spent far longer than he thought he would talking to Y/N last night, and as much as his head hurts from the beers they shared, he doesn’t regret a second of it. Although, it’s probably Powell and Callahan currently banging down his door. The knocking still hasn’t stopped in his moment of contemplation, it would be best to answer it sooner than later.

“Coming!” Jim calls to whoever is on the other side of the door, wiping his hands over his face as he sits up in bed. He picks his robe up off the floor, standing to put it on. It wouldn’t exactly be polite to answer the door in his boxer shorts, after all. “Keep your pants on.” He says as he slowly walks down the hall to meet his visitor. He grabs hold of the doorknob, twisting it to pull it open and reveal who’s outside. He finds Max standing on his doorstep, tears staining her red, puffy cheeks, her body trembling in utter terror. “Max, what’s wrong?” He asks, surprised to see her in this state. She doesn’t answer his question, too busy choking on her sobs. Something must have happened, and given how distraught she looks, it’s really, really bad. "Come inside, kid.” He sighs, looking behind her to see if anyone else is around. Y/N, or the crow that was with her, or someone far less friendly.

“I didn’t want to lead him right to her.” Max hiccups once she’s inside, following Hopper as he brings her to the couch.

“What do you mean? What’s going on, Max?” Jim asks, confused.

“Billy. He knows that Y/N’s alive. He was grilling me all about it, and he wouldn’t let me go. I thought he was gonna hurt me.” Max starts crying again as she speaks, her words making a flare of anger rise in Jim’s chest. “I wouldn’t tell him, and I managed to get away. I wanted to go to Y/N, and warn her. But I was worried Billy might follow me.” She shoves herself into Hopper's chest, her fear getting the best of her. His arms close over her instantly, holding her close to keep her safe.

“It’s alright, kid. I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.” Jim says softly, though his insides boil with rage.

“It’s not me I’m worried about, Hop.” She whimpers, muffled by his robe.

“I know.” He replies simply, becoming rather worried himself now that Hargrove is no doubt gathering his posse and gearing up for a fight. Y/N’s grown rather formidable in her newly-undead state, but those young men pack a hell of a punch regardless. “Look, I’m meant to be at the station, you can come with me. There’ll be other officers around, and you’ll be safe. Okay?” Jim offers.

“Isn’t there anything we can do to help her?” Max asks, raising her head to look in Jim’s eyes. She finds no answer within them, and helplessness spreads through her veins like ice water.

“I don’t know, kid.” Hopper sighs, unsure what else to say. He wishes he could drop everything and drive over to Crystal Ridge, and back Y/N up when the fight comes to her. But there’s too many responsibilities waiting for him. Parents to identify bodies, reporters with questions, his fellow officers needing a plan of action from their commanding officer. Unfortunately, that leaves Y/N on her own for the time being. And it kills him to do so once again, he can’t be there in her time of need. He only hopes she can fight back this time, and earn her victory.

“Promise me you’ll at least try?” Max asks, picking at her cuticles as she’s aware of how big of a request she’s making. She doesn’t want Hop to get hurt, then she’d have no one. But Y/N has thus far taken the brunt of the risk, and Max finds it unfair to let her suffer it all herself. Again.

“Of course I will, Max. I’ll do everything I can.” Hopper promises, nodding his head even though the words feel like a cruel lie. No matter how much or how little effort he does end up putting in this time around, it will never feel like enough. His best wasn’t enough to save Sarah, or the Munsons, not even Pete fucking Howell. “I gotta get dressed, kid. Did you eat yet?” He asks as he stands up.

“No, didn’t have a chance to.” Max answers, her stomach rumbling.

“I’ve got Eggos in the freezer, pop a couple in the toaster before we leave.” Jim instructs as he walks down the hall to his bedroom.

“You got it, Chief!” Max perks up, heading for the kitchen.

Jim chuckles, closing the door. He hurries to get ready, fishing out a clean set of his tan uniform from the closet. He’s got to look his best for the news cameras when he gives a public statement about these brutal killings. Brutal, but deserved, he thinks briefly, making note to leave that last part out.

“Are you sure about this?” Jason asks, pacing the floor of his living room. Billy’s just filled him in on his little theory about who the killer is, and the plan he has in mind to take care of her.

“Yeah, man. The bitch is back, and we gotta put her down. For good this time.” Billy says with cruel confidence, crossing his arms from his spot on Jason’s couch.

“I mean, you realize how crazy this sounds, right? Y/N Munson is dead, we sure saw to that a year ago.” Jason retorts, wondering if Hargrove has truly lost it this time.

“Believe me, Carver, I know how it sounds. But it’s the only thing that makes sense. Besides, Max told me all I needed to know.” Billy responds, unfazed.

“Which was what, exactly?” Jason questions, growing rather irritated with all these ghost stories. There’s been more than enough gossip around town in the short amount of time Tommy and Steve turned up dead. And he would love nothing more than to forget all about that night. He did what was right for the town, and that’s all. He’d prefer not to have any part in a recreation of the justice the four of them served.

“Enough to know that Y/N Munson is back, and she’s gunning right for us!” Billy snaps, making the other man flinch. He sighs, putting his rage away, saving it for the satanic whore who deserves it. “Look, I don’t like it any more than you do. But I, for one, am not gonna sit by and wait for that devil-worshiping cunt to come along and slit my throat.” He explains.

“And how do you suppose we do that?” Carver asks, more full of questions than he’s ever been.

“We’re gonna round up the boys, and gear up.” Billy says, as if the answer is obvious. “We’re also gonna go get my sister and bring her here. She’s gonna be the bait.” An evil grin spreads across his lips, and he cracks his knuckles. He’s going to enjoy killing Munson again, and he’ll enjoy making Max watch this time even more.

While Hopper has been busy handling the frantic press and public all afternoon, Max has been sitting in a chair in the bullpen at the station. Officers hustle and bustle all around her, answering calls from the tip line Jim put out for the citizens to report anything ‘suspicious’. She doubts anything these officers are writing down will be relevant, probably just more silly rumors and bored housewives looking for attention. Flo, a kind old woman who sits at reception, brings Max homemade cookies and hot chocolate with a warm smile on her face. No one else really pays the girl any mind, but it’s not their fault. This town hasn’t seen anything this big since the events of last year, which has everyone in a frenzy to get to the bottom of it. It all feels rather pointless to Max, and surely Hopper as well, given that they know exactly what’s going on and have no intention of stopping it.

Max doodles on a pad of paper Flo supplied to her, sketching crows with wispy black feathers and close-ups of motorcycles. She would draw Y/N, too, but she’s never been very good at faces. Plus, she’d hate for one of the cops to come by and question her about it. It’s odd enough that she’s drawing birds that represent death and mechanical parts, as opposed to the landscapes and flowers one would expect from her creative hand. She hopes Jim will be finished with the press conference soon, an uneasy feeling has been twisting around in her stomach ever since he left her in here. Like danger lurks just around the corner. Just a little longer, she tells herself. Hop will be back soon, and everything will be fine.

Max munches on her cookies, sipping the cocoa to wash it down. The sounds of phones ringing, voices mingling together, and the scratching of pens on paper lulls her into a false sense of security. She continues to sketch, filling the page with the things that have stuck with her since her visit to see Y/N. “Damn.” She lets out a small sigh when she messes up on getting the curve of the crow’s beak just right, turning her pencil over to erase the mistake. She fixes it right up, smiling happily at her handiwork. With the page full to the brim now, she gives her eyes a break from staring down at the paper. Just as she looks up, the last person she wants to see right now comes storming into the station.

“There you are, you little shit!” Billy yells as he stomps over to her. His words draw the attention of everyone in the bullpen, all other sounds falling silent. He reaches her in no time at all, grabbing her roughly by the arm.

“Ow, let me go!” Max shouts, looking to the officers around her for help. A couple of them have their hands trained on their holsters, ready to pull out their weapons if necessary.

“Nobody try anything!” Billy announces as he takes notice of their guarded actions, pulling a large pistol from his jeans. He holds it up, waving it at various officers to get his point across. “Don’t try to stop me, or I’ll shoot her!” He warns, yanking Max to her feet. His eyes dart around the room, checking to see how many officers there are. Eight of them spread through the room, all standing at their desks. Except for one, who attempts to slowly make his way over to Billy. His hands are outstretched defensively, a cautious expression on his face. “Hey! Don’t come any closer!” Billy snarls, pointing the gun at the officer. The man stops in his tracks, eyes widening as Hargrove cocks the weapon. “Stay back! All of you!” He shouts, his features taken over by mania.

“Billy, let me go!” Max protests, squirming in his hold. His hand is wrapped tightly around her arm, enough to leave her with a bruise later. She wonders where Hopper is, why he hasn’t come back yet. He could easily put an end to all this.

“Shut up, you little bitch!” Billy growls in her face, going so far as to smack the loaded gun across her face. She screams as cold metal meets her forehead, immediately sending a throbbing pain into her skull, and a trickle of blood runs down her face from a small gash the weapon leaves behind. The onlookers gasp in horror at the abuse, but they all stay where they are with their hands held up.

“Why are you doing this?” Max whimpers as she rubs her head, tears streaming down her cheeks as she realizes no help is coming to her now.

“You’re comin’ with me. I’m setting a little trap for your friend.” Billy says, just low enough for only her to hear. “And then you’re gonna watch me kill her again.” He chuckles darkly, tugging her along with him now. “Where’s the back door outta here?” He addresses the room again, expecting a quick answer. A couple apprehensive fingers point behind him, but it may be a trick to catch him off guard. He goes for the officer that meant to approach him before, pointing his weapon at him once again. “You! Show me the way out!” Billy commands. When the cop doesn’t move right away, he turns the gun on his sister. He holds the barrel to her temple, causing her to shriek. “I’ll fucking shoot her, I swear to god!”

“No, don’t! I-I’ll show you. Follow me.” The officer says nervously, gesturing towards the back of the station.

“Lead the way.” Billy replies, nudging the gun in his grip. Max lets out a sigh of relief when it’s not held at her head anymore, though her sobs don’t stop. Her eyes plead with every officer she passes, and Flo, to do something, anything to stop her brother. They outnumber him, most of them have weapons. And yet here they stand, useless as always.

The officer, who’s tag Max didn’t have a chance to read, shows them to a back door down a short hallway next to the bullpen. The man opens the door for them, and stands back to let Billy lead Max outside. “I’m sorry.” He apologizes weakly to Max, before closing the door behind him.

Billy leads Max around to the front of the building, bypassing the crowd out front with the gun pressed against her back. Max sees Hopper at a podium, issuing his statement and answering questions from the press. She wills him to notice her, to tell him telepathically that she’s in danger. “If you scream, I’ll make sure to aim for the pig Chief first.” Billy whispers threateningly, still dragging her along. No one notices anything is amiss, too focused on the big show. “Get in the car.” Billy instructs as he shoves Max forward towards his Camarro. He rushes to pull his keys from his pocket, it won’t take long for those scared little piggies to alert Hopper of the situation.

Max thinks it over for a moment, stalling as she opens her door once it’s unlocked. It’s risky to draw attention to herself. Billy could hurt someone, even from the far end of the parking lot. Or he could hurt her worse than he already has. But she takes her chance when Billy’s preoccupied with getting the engine started. “Help!” She cries, as loud as she can, hoping it’s enough to be heard over the mass of reporters outside. “Please! Help! Help me! Somebody!” She continues.

“Shut the fuck up, and get in the car! I told you, I’ll shoot Hopper if you don’t quit it!” Billy barks, reaching over the seat to grab her arm that’s barely inside the car.

“Someone please! Help! Hopper!” Max screams, and a few heads in the crowd turn her way.

Hopper finally sees her from his vantage point, eyes blowing wide. Billy’s come to take her, and there’s blood running down her face. He hurt her. “Stop that car!” Jim shouts, pointing in the direction of the Camarro. He leaves the podium, trying to get past the crowd and reach Max.

“Get in the fucking car! Or I’ll shoot you right now!” Billy yells, his final warning. Without thinking, Max stops screaming, and gets into the car. She pulls her door closed, and Billy speeds off like he’s drag racing the Devil. Max doubles over, sobbing uncontrollably as she hates herself for giving in. But she doesn’t want to die, or for Hop to get hurt. So, for now, she’ll have to play damsel in distress. Her only hope for savior now will be when Y/N comes to take the last two lives she’s owed.

“Dammit!” Hopper exclaims as Billy speeds off. A couple officers come up to him, reporting what happened inside the station while he was busy. “Why didn’t you stop him? All of you are trained and armed, for fuck’s sake!” He shouts, before forcing himself to take a deep breath. The cameras are still rolling, and there’s a lot riding on his handling of the situation in a calm, respectable manner. This conversation can continue behind closed doors, as loud and as angry as he wants to be. Within reason. “Just…find them. Now.” He says as calmly as he can, dismissing the officers to get on it. This certainly complicates things.

Without a second thought, or the effort to alert anyone as to where he’s going, Hopper gets into his truck and goes straight to the place where he knows Y/N is hiding out. He peels out of the lot, ignoring the news crews that chase after him. The vultures can wait for whatever statement he’ll no doubt have to make after this is all sorted. If he makes it out alive, that is. His hands squeeze hard on the steering wheel, the rubber material twisting under his strangling grasp. This entire ordeal is getting out of hand, and he’s damn near clueless on what to do about it. He’s just the Chief of police in a small town made up of nothing. Hostage situations and task forces aren’t exactly in the realm of normal operations. Maybe back at his old precinct in the city, but there’s barely enough officers here to deal with a standard robbery, let alone this clusterfuck.

Hopper’s front tires roll over the curb outside of Crystal Ridge, no time can be spared for perfect parking as the sun goes down. He jumps out of the truck, nearly falling on his face in the rush. He catches himself with the side of the vehicle, breathing hard as thoughts of what harm may come to Max play wildly in his head. He hopes that Y/N’s here, she has to be. He needs her help, now more than ever. And Max even more so. Hopper heads inside, jogging up the steps and down the pitch dark hallway. He approaches the open door to the Munson residence, a place he hasn’t returned to in almost a year. He walks through the threshold, looking around at the trashed interior.

“Y/N?” Hopper calls for you, startling you out of your train of thought about how exactly to pay Billy back for ruining everything you ever cared about. “Are you here? Max is in trouble. We don’t have a lot of time.” He calls out to you breathlessly, still awaiting a response.

“Yeah, I’m here.” You step out of the bedroom to reveal yourself. “What’s going on?” You ask with worry.

“Billy’s got her. Max came to me this morning, she was really upset. They had a fight. I brought her with me today, and Billy held the station at gunpoint to take her. He knows you’re back, and he’s using her as bait to lure you out.” Hopper explains, struggling to keep a hold on his breath.

“I already know where he is. The crow showed me. Well, not everything.” You reply, turning to fix the bird in question with a glare. I knew you were hiding something from me, you little shit. It gives a small caw in response, bowing its head as if to offer an apology. You turn to look at Jim again, putting aside the omission of truths. “But, I know what I’m walking into.” You say confidently, and he gives you an odd look.

“Mind filling me in? Jim asks, thinking he may be able to provide some backup this time around.

“This’ll teach you to run from me.” Billy snarls as he tightens Max’s restraints. He’s got her tied up to one of Jason’s kitchen chairs, with a thick strip of duct tape placed over her mouth. Can’t have the neighbors in the rich part of town hearing a little girl’s cries for help, now, can he?

“Is this really necessary, man? She’s just a kid.” Jason asks, his teeth worrying his lip as he looks at the girl. Endless tears stain her cheeks, blood from the pistol-whip Billy gave her dripping down to her chin, dark and crusted over her pale complexion. His stomach rolls, wondering if perhaps his friend is going too far to bring Y/N down. If she’s even the one who’s been doing all this. He wants to believe so, but he hasn’t exactly seen any proof.

“Believe me, she’s more than earned it.” Billy replies, standing up as the rope is tied tightly across the back of the chair. “Besides, we can’t have her screaming her head off, or running to the neighbors for help. Then we’ll really be fucked.” He explains, rather annoyed with the look of uncertainty on Carver’s face. “What’s up your ass?” Billy asks, stepping closer to his nervous friend.

“Nothing. I just hope you’re right. And that you know what you’re doing.” Jason says, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Have I ever steered you wrong before?” Billy poses the question curiously, gauging Jason’s reaction. He’d hate to have to add another hostage to this situation. Or another body.

“N-No.” Jason stutters, recognizing the coy, shark-like look in Billy’s eyes. The look that carries the threatening idea of ‘you’re either with me, or against me, and lord help you if you become my enemy’. “You’re right. Let’s do this.” Jason adds, nodding his head in confidence. He’s shaking in his boots on the inside, but he's in too deep to pussy out now.

“That’s what I like to hear.” Billy chuckles menacingly, proud that his partner in crime has made the wise decision to see things his way. He turns toward the men he’s rounded up in Jason’s house, and addresses them as a group. “Is everybody ready!?” He asks them, expecting a quick response.

“Yeah!” The men say in unison, brandishing their various weapons. Axes, ball bats, switchblades, brass knuckles for a couple of them, and Billy of course with his lethal new toy he swiped from his father’s safe.

“Are we ready to send this bitch back to hell where she belongs!?” Billy asks, louder this time to rile them up.

“Yeah!” They respond as one once again, Jason included.

“Then let’s fucking do it!” Billy cries, causing the men to break out into hoots and hollers. He looks over at Jason again, a slick smirk on his lips. “Now, all we gotta do is wait.” He says casually, the intent of cold-blooded murder settling deep within his veins.

As the moon rises on Halloween night, the time has finally come. The stage is set, the actors have taken their places, and the final act is ready to play out. All that’s left is for you to make your grand entrance. Billy, Jason, and their goons are hunkered down and armed to the teeth, with Max held captive under their close watch. You ride through town towards the house on Karma’s back, the crow perched on your shoulder, with Hopper following close behind in his truck.

The plan you’ve quickly concocted together goes as follows: You and Hopper will go to the Carver house, where you’ll make your way inside while Hopper waits outside and calls for backup. Cops will surround the place, and maybe even attempt to negotiate with Billy and Jason. Little will they know that you’re slicing and dicing your way through the men inside, rescuing Max in the process. You hope to slip out once the work is done, but that’s where things get complicated. Since every available officer will be forming an impenetrable wall around the house, Hopper will have to be the first one inside after the bloodbath. He’ll have to rely on timing, and maintain total control of the situation. Neither of which have been Jim’s strong suits, try as he might to exert complete authority. Tonight will be make or break. One wrong step, a single bad call, and it all goes to hell.

You pull up to the house, the moon shining down upon you through pitchy clouds as the sky threatens the entire town with rain. You kill Karma’s engine, Hop following suit with the truck. He gets out for a moment, walking over to you. “You sure you can handle this, kid? There’s a lot of angry, dangerous men in there, especially Billy.” He says with worry, wishing you’d let him come inside and help you take the fuckers out.

“I’m gonna be fine, Jim. They’re the ones that should be afraid.” You reply, glancing bitterly at the green-painted front door of the Carver residence. Just two more (or twelve, if it comes to that), and then this will all be over. You’ll be able to rest again, peacefully this time, and return to your love.

“He has a gun, Y/N. I don’t want Max getting caught in the crossfire.” He presses, needing you to understand what you’re about to do, who you’re putting at risk.

“I know, Hop. I’m not gonna let them hurt her. She’ll get out in one piece, even if I don’t.” You say seriously, under no pretense that this third and final battle will leave you unscathed. Billy is calculating, and spry. Jason isn’t any less intimidating. And they’ve rounded up a small army, all of whom have the sole focus of putting you in the ground for the second time.

“Okay.” He nods, though his gut still has all sorts of uneasy feelings about this.

“It’ll be fine. Just stick to the plan, and everything will work out fine.” You reassure him “I love you, Hop. Thanks, for everything.” You pull him in for a hug, which feels much more like a goodbye than either of you appreciate.

“Love you, too, kiddo. Go save our girl, and give those two shitheads my regards.” Jim smiles as he joins the embrace, though it would be nice if he didn’t ever have to let you go. It hurt enough the first time. But this is the way things are, and time is running out. It’s now or never, and he has no intention of denying you your bittersweet revenge.

“I will.” You say simply as you pull away. You think about verbalizing an actual farewell, but it would feel like a waste of words. You’ve said all you can, and the time for talking has long since passed. Now is the time for action. You exchange a small nod with the man, and turn away to head inside. You light up the last cigarette in the pack, tossing the empty box on the ground. You draw your twin knives, saving the switchblade for the final blow you intend to serve to Hargrove. It’s only polite to return the knife to its rightful owner, after all. You allow the rage to well up inside you as it has two times before, gearing up for a bloody fight as your feet clomp up the front steps. You take a deep breath as you meet the doormat, closing your eyes for a moment to gather yourself. “Let’s fucking finish this.” You say to yourself with purpose, a small encouraging caw leaving the crow.

Without another second to lose, you lift up your right leg, and proceed to kick the front door right off its hinges. The wood splits off in a shatter of splinters, large chunks sliding across the floor into the foyer. You step through the threshold, finding the gang of men staring at you in disbelief in the living room to your left. “Sorry I’m late.” You say sarcastically, stalking into the room. The bird flies from your shoulder to perch on a nearby lamp, making the men duck as it swoops close to their heads. You take a large puff from your smoke, flicking the ash with the cig still planted between your lips. A neat trick Eddie showed you once, using one’s tongue to discard the ash when one’s hands are…preoccupied.

You take a good look around, finding Max first. She’s tied up similarly to the way you and Eddie were, but with tape pasted to her mouth. She’s got a wound on her head, from Billy, no doubt. It doesn’t look too serious, she’ll be alright once you get her out of here. You give her an assuring nod, letting her know you’ve got this under control. You leave her be once she nods back, gazing at each of the men who stand before you with weapons held in their sweaty hands. Most of them clearly don’t have the stomach for this, mob mentality or not. They’ll be easy enough to knock out. You’re not here to cause any unnecessary death. “Looks like quite the party.” You observe, perking up when you lay eyes on Jason and Billy standing at the far end of the room. “Hello, boys.” You greet them, a sickening smile spread across your lipstick-smudged mouth.

“I fucking knew you were back.” Billy growls, nudging Jason’s ribs. “What did I tell you?” He says to the other man.

“I can’t believe it.” Jason murmurs, ignoring the bruising jab of Billy’s elbow prodding at him. “This can't really be happening. It’s impossible!”

“Jesus Christ, not this song and dance again!” You groan, rolling your eyes. “Your eyes aren’t foolin’ ya, Carver! I’m back, and with a goddamn vengeance!” You explain as you laugh at his confusion. “Now that we’ve cleared that up, who’s first?” You ask, holding the knives up in your grasp. The light of the room glints off their steel blades, twinkling in the most threatening way. Without a word, about half the men Billy and Jason rounded up find themselves running out of the house, screaming in terror as they scramble to be the first to make it out the broken doorway and into the night to escape. “Well, that’s a shame. I was looking forward to a fair fight.” You play up a sigh as you watch the last one stumble through the exit. You turn back to find Billy storming over to you, nostrils flaring and gun poised in your direction.

“Enough of this shit!” He roars, pulling back the hammer of the pistol and firing a shot at you. It rings through the air, but you act quickly enough to raise your arm up so the bullet goes clean through your wrist.

“Fuck.” You grunt as it makes contact, searing hot and ripping through flesh and bone like it's nothing. Dark viscera oozes messily down your sleeve as you hold up the wound, waiting for the magic to happen and further frighten your adversaries. “Wanna see somethin’ cool?” You ask darkly, your smile returning as your stare into Billy’s angry eyes. He doesn’t say a thing, too enamored by the black sludge leaking from you to speak. Something isn’t right here, you’re not right. His fury morphs into fear as your wound closes itself up, bones regrowing and skin sealing the seams without leaving a trace. “Neat, huh?” You ask, taking a swipe at him with your left hand. Your blade makes clean contact with his bicep, slicing all the way down through the muscle.

“Shit!” Billy yelps, jumping back away from you as you attempt to land another blow. His hand tries to cover the deep wound, quickly becoming washed over in warm blood. “Get her!” He orders.

“Aw, did someone lose their nerve?” You pout playfully at him, not paying mind to the men who intend to rush you. You could take them out with your eyes closed and hand tied behind your back at this point. It’s almost boring. Almost. “Fine, fine. I’ll take care of your little lap dogs first. Save the best for last!” You shout as your blade stabs into the stomach of one of the men, ripping your arm across to make his innards spill out. He cries aloud in agony, failing to hold onto his slippery intestines as he falls to the floor with a thump. Your eyes stay glued to Jason and Billy as you work your way through their friends, lambs lead to slaughter by their former teammates. The second man tries to land a punch across your cheek, but you end up slashing his wrist wide open instead. You kick him swiftly in the chest, crushing his ribs and sending him flying across the room. He takes a glass coffee table with him on the way down, glass shattering and embedding inside of him in jagged shards. Weak wheezing can be heard from where he lands as he bleeds out, but the other men keep on coming.

The last three try to tag-team you, armed with sharpened axes and knives. Without breaking a sweat, or the stare you’ve been maintaining this entire time, you block their blows one after another. You defend against heavy swings, the ching of blades zooming past your ears as they repeatedly miss. Kicks and punches are leisurely thwarted, the routine becoming quite predictable in a matter of seconds. Growing bored of playing with your proverbial food, you snatch one of the men into your grasp by shoving a knife into his arm, embedding deep into his flesh. He screams for mercy as you tug him closer, using your leverage to pull his arm back and snap it in two. His agony grows louder, like a wild animal caught in a trap. One of the others tries to get a swing in, but you use their captured friend as a shield to catch the blow. An ax blade lands deep within his chest, causing him to gurgle up blood and struggle for air. The other man pulls back, removing the ax and sending a spray of red all over the four of you. You remove your own knife from your prey with a clean spin, sending his body behind you into the foyer.

“Jesus Christ, she’s gonna kill us all.” Jason murmurs in realization, wishing he’d never agreed to this stupid plan.

“Not if we don’t let her. Go get that damn bird, there’s something weird about it.” Billy says to him, pointing in the corvid’s direction. It’s been watching this scene play out, with far more intelligence than he’s seen most birds have. Perhaps there’s something about it that’s tied to Y/N’s seemingly immortal constitution, though he thinks this over in much less complex terms.

“Why me? That thing gives me the creeps!” Jason retorts, shaking his head as the bird tilts its head at him. He doesn’t like the look in its onyx eyes, how it seems to be peering into his very soul.

“That’s the point! Now, go! I’ll take care of this crazy bitch.” Billy orders, shoving Jason toward the crow.

“Fine, fine. But if I get pecked, it’s your fault.” Jason says begrudgingly.

While Jason attempts to catch your feathered friend, you’re busy slicing the throat of the second-to-last goon wide open. It’s not nearly as satisfying as Harrington’s was to cut, but it still fuels you to keep going nonetheless. These fuckers had a chance to run, to play no part in this. But they chose to stay, so their fates are sealed. You toss his body to the floor once his blood has left you soaking wet, left with one more to take down. “Let’s make this quick. I’ve got much more important things to take care of.” You toss a glance at the man you’re speaking to, recognizing him from last night. Patrick, you think his name is. “Guess the things I showed you weren’t enough to change anything, huh?” You ask, reminding him of the mind-melting torment you put him through.

“Hell no. You got what was coming to you.” Patrick seethes, holding up his ax once again. He’s coated head to toe in the blood of his friends, the wood handle of his weapon slick in his trembling hands. “You, and that pervert husband of yours.” He adds, rubbing salt in the wound.

“Don’t you dare talk about him!” You scream with rage, a switch flipping inside of you at his words. You stop fucking around, and ram both of your knives as deep into Patrick’s pathetic chest as you possibly can. The air is stolen from his lungs, quickly being replaced with blood to drown him. “Fuck you, you piece of shit!” You continue to yell as you drive him towards the wall. He slams into the floral wallpaper smearing ruby red all over the place. “Don’t you ever talk about him! Ever! Ever! Ever!” Your screams grow louder, more feral as you pull your blades out and shove them back into Patrick’s flesh over and over. Expletives fly from your lips, joined by jab after jab as you rip and tear him to shreds from the inside out. His torso nearly looks like raw hamburger by the time you’re through. You pull the knives out one final time, and his lifeless body slides down the wall, leaving a trail of viscera behind.

“Gotcha!” Jason says as he lunges for the crow, just barely catching it in his hands. It squawks and caws, flapping its wings wildly at being captured. “I got it! I got it!” He cheers, bringing it over to Billy.

“Well, at least you're good for something, Carver.” Billy chuckles, patting his friend on the shoulder condescendingly.

“Whatever, just take the damn thing.” Jason shoves the crow his way, not wanting to hold it any longer.

“No, hold it still. I’ll take care of the little fucker.” Billy barks, holding his gun up to aim it at the bird’s head.

“What are you, crazy? What if you shoot me?” Jason protests, struggling to keep a hold of the crow, its talons scratching relentlessly at his hands.

“I’m not gonna shoot you, dammit! Just keep it still!” Billy yells, pulling the hammer back on the weapon.

“Let the bird go!” You shout in their direction, stomping over with the bloody knives still in your hands.

“No way! It’s got somethin’ to do with why you’re…like that. And I’m not fighting an undead, satanic bitch if I have anything to say about it!” Hargrove shakes his head, training the barrel of the pistol at the crow’s head. It gives you a sullen look, accepting its fate.

“No, don’t!” You scream as Billy pulls the trigger, hitting the corvid point-blank in its tiny skull. You fall to your knees, sensing your being becoming less impervious and more…mortal. You feel the connection between you and the bird become lost, leaving you to fend for yourself. It falls lifeless in Jason’s grip, and he yelps as he drops its body on the floor.

“Jesus! I told you not to do that! The bullet could’ve gone straight through and hit me!” Jason smacks Billy in the chest, his ears ringing from the shot.

“Stop bein’ such a baby! You’re fine, and the damn bird is dead! Mission accomplished!” Billy shoves him back, his words coming out frantic and gleeful. “Now we can kill the fucking whore!” He laughs, turning to look at you now. “Bring it on, Witch Bitch. I’m lookin’ forward to round two.” He jeers at you, grabbing at his crotch with his free hand.

“Careful what you wish for, Hargrove. You just might get it.” You pant, slowly returning to your feet.

Suddenly, you hear the wail of sirens outside. Backup has officially arrived. Right on schedule. “This is Hawkins Police. We have you surrounded. Let the girl go, and come out with your hands up!” You hear Hopper’s voice boom through his megaphone. The signal to finish this shit and get the hell out of here. Easier said than done when the one thing keeping you safe had its brains splattered on the living room floor.

“Looks like our time is almost up, boys. Let’s get this over with.” You say, refreshing your grip on your twin blades.

“Gladly.” Billy growls, and he and Jason run towards you, a determined battle cry leaving their heaving chests.

Though your immunity to injury has been stripped from you, it appears your strength and reflexes are here to stay, for the time being. You drop to your knees, and stick one leg out to trip the men as they charge you. They go tumbling over your extended limb, landing hard on the wood floor. You decide to go after Jason first, he’s got less fight in him than Billy by a mile. You swing yourself around on your knees, straddling him just as he manages to turn over onto his back. “Sorry, Carver. You’re up first.” You say as your thighs pin him to the ground, though he tries to squirm beneath you.

“Billy! Help me, goddammit!” Jason shrieks, turning his head to look at Billy, who’s currently rubbing his bleeding, bruising head that smacked right into the thick leg of his father’s antique writing desk. “Shit.” He mutters, watching his friend groan in pain as a concussion takes hold.

“Hargrove can’t help you now.” You say to the sniveling man below you, drawing his terror-filled eyes your way. “I’d say something clever before I kill you, but I’m fresh out of one-liners at the moment.” You shrug, taking your time in deciding where to bury your knives inside Jason’s trembling body. You’d hate to repeat your previous work, that would just be sloppy.

“What are you doing? Just get it over with already!” Jason whimpers, his lip quivering. He’s accepted his fate, wondering if perhaps he deserves this. After all he’s done, satanic panic or not, he has blood on his hands.

“What’s the rush? It’ll be a minute before Billy boy gets up, and I wanna make this count. It’s only fair, don’t you think?” You lean down towards his face as you speak, another sickly grin sprouting from your lips. “Is someone regretting their sins, Jason? Are you worried that you’ll burn in hell for what you’ve done?” You ask mockingly, running the edge of the blade along his chest.

“Y-Yes.” Jason stutters, tears rolling down his face as he nods.

“Well, you’re about to find out.” You say, lowering yourself further to plant a kiss on his cheek. Just like the others. He gasps at the touch of your cold lips of his flesh, a shiver running down his spine. The kiss of death. The thought passes fleetingly as you plunge the knives straight through Jason’s eyes, which burst like grapes once the blades pierce into his skull. His body falls still instantly, his head lolling to the side. The handle of one of the knives taps against the floor, the final sound he’ll ever make. You climb off of his body, wiping away a piece of eye goo that was flung onto your cheek from the impact. You look over at Billy, who’s managed to sit up against the wall now. A gash on his forehead bleeds and throbs, and it appears he’s gotten sick on himself from the injury. You go over to him slowly, crinkling your nose at the sight and stench of vomit on his chest and lap. “Get up.” You kick his thigh with your foot, ready to get this last bit over with. You pull his old switchblade from your pocket, clicking it open for the first time. “I’ve got something that belongs to you. Figured you'd want it back.” Your words draw his dizzy gaze your way, and you display the knife for him to get a good look. “I’m sure you recognize this little beauty, I know I do.” You say gleefully. “I ought to, since you stabbed me with it so many damn times.”

“And I’ll stab you with it plenty more.” Billy says with a groan, his words slurring. He’s in much worse shape than you were hoping for. It’s a bit sad now, battling an already wounded animal like himself. But concussion or not, he’ll get what’s coming to him. He stumbles as he stands, bending over to throw up a second time. It lands wetly on the floor, mixing with the many pools of blood you’ve made. He wipes his mouth once he’s finished, lurching closer to you as you back away.

“Come on then, Hargrove. Show me what you got.” You beckon him closer, curling your fingers in a challenging gesture.

“I’m gonna kick your ass, Munson. I’ll make you wish you never came back here.” He replies, his steps evening out as he regains what composure he has left. He completely forgets about the gun he has in his hand, running straight for you. His speed takes you by surprise, his free hand quickly grabbing your throat. He leads you back into a wall, which cracks behind you at the force. You grab at his hand, trying to break yourself free from his grasp. But your strength is fading, time is running out. “You’re gonna be beggin’ me to kill you by the time I’m done.” He says through clenched teeth, squeezing harder on your throat. He doesn’t plan to kill you, not yet. He’ll bring you right up to the edge of death, a good few times if he feels like it. He wants to draw it out, just like last time.

You gasp for air, punching at his thick fingers to make him let go. But he doesn’t. He won’t. You can hear Max screaming through the tape on her mouth, pleading at Billy to stop. You look at her from across the room, just in case you won’t be able to see her again, in case you end up losing after all. A tear rolls down your cheek, and you’re nearly ready to give up. You’ve fought so hard, to get justice for yourself, for Eddie. It was a valiant effort, even if this is the end of the line. At least you’ll know you tried, that someone fought for the two of you. Max and Hopper will know that, too, and they’ll rest much easier for it.

“Ow! What the fuck!?” Billy yells as something is suddenly attacking him from behind. You can see flapping black feathers behind his back, your eyes widening in surprise to see the crow alive and kicking once again. Billy’s grip loosens on your neck, the crow attaching itself to his back with its claws, its beak pecking away at his neck and head. “Get off me, you stupid bird! I thought I killed you!” He tries to reach back and swat at the bird, but it only earns him more pecks on the arms.

You don’t waste a second as the crow helps keep him distracted, following him as he goes backwards in frantic steps. You hold up the switchblade, watching Billy struggle with the corvid as it makes more small wounds on his flesh. You remind yourself of all the harm he caused you, how he took your love from you, violated your body with his disgusting friends. You’re not going to hold back, this one if for fucking keeps. “Hey, Billy!” You shout, wanting him to look at you when you land the blow.

“Fuck.” He murmurs when he sees you, aimed and ready to deliver his knife back to him as promised. The crow pulls off of him, leaving no time for Billy to react.

“Happy Halloween, motherfucker!” You cry out, ramming the blade right between his ribs and into his heart.

“Shit.” Billy gasps, trying to cover the rapidly bleeding wound with his hand. You keep your grip on the handle of the switchblade, watching the river of blood flow from his chest. You hear the tell-tale gurgles of fluid filling his lungs, smirking as ruby red trickles from Billy’s mouth. He struggles to speak, choking on his own blood. “F-Fuck you, Witch Bitch.” He manages to get the words out, a small smile rising on his own lips.

“Not in your wildest dreams.” You slowly shake your head, and twist the knife within his chest. A pained gasp leaves him, before he goes completely still. You give him a kiss as you’ve done with the others, marking the end of your blood-soaked journey. Your gaze follows him as he falls to the floor, making seven bodies you’re leaving in your wake. With the job done, you can do the one thing you’ve wanted to do since you arrived, untie Max. You rush over to her, kneeling behind her chair to undo the ropes. “I’ve got you, sweetie. Just hold on.” You reassure her as she squirms in her bindings. You manage to get to ropes undone quickly, coming around to the other side to take the tape off her mouth. You peel it off as carefully as you can, leaving only slightly-irritated skin behind on Max’s face. “You okay?” You ask her, realizing she just had to watch you kill seven men right in front of her.

“Yeah. I’m fine.” Max nods, seemingly unfazed by the carnage. Blame it on MTV.

“I’m sorry you had to see all that.” You say in remorse, stroking her arms with your bloodied hands. The last thing you wanted was for her to witness all of this, to see what you had to do. It’s not right.

“It’s fine, Y/N, really.” Max insists, throwing herself into your arms, hugging you tightly. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

“Me too. C’mon, let’s get out of here.” You give her a gentle squeeze back, and pull away to stand up. She follows suit, taking your hand as you lead her out of the house. Cops have swarmed around the house entirely, their guns all pointed at you as you step outside. A couple officers approach you, taking Max from you and throwing a blanket over her shoulders. She looks at you in fear, but you give her a nod that it’s okay. The medic needs to check out the nasty gash Billy gave her anyway. You walk further into the group of officers, ignoring their questions and bewildered looks. A rather large crowd has gathered behind the marked police line, almost everyone in town has shown up to see what the hell is going on. Some are kids in costumes, their trick-or-treating interrupted by the situation that’s unfolded. Others are concerned parents in work clothes and bathrobes, pointing fingers in your direction. Nothing you haven’t gotten used to. News crews sit off to the side, reporting what little details Hopper has given them about the situation.

“It’s the killer!” A woman screams in the crowd. Her words stop you in your tracks, your eyes finding Hopper’s immediately. His own are blown wide, and both of you know what’s about to happen. All hell is breaking loose. More voices join the first, accusations thrown your way, putting the officers on alert.

Time slows down as you turn to try and run away, ignoring the cops telling you to stop. They keep calling after you, chasing behind as your feet carry you back across the front yard. “No, let her go! Stop! Stand down!” Hopper tries to order the officers to let you go, but he’s drowned out by the mob calling for your head. One of the officers pulls the trigger on his weapon that’s aimed right at you, the shot ringing clear through the air, silencing the crowd as the bullet makes contact with the back of your ribs. “No!” Hopper yells, pushing his way through to try and help you.

You stumble forward onto your knees, your breath stolen away as you can feel blood pooling both inside and out of your body. You can hear more cops approaching you, their shoes trampling on dead leaves. You struggle for breath, scrambling onto your feet. You have to get out of here, to the cemetery. The crow has to lead you back there, or this was all for nothing. You start to run again, lurching forward, forcing your body to keep moving despite the horrid pain you feel. It’s nothing compared to what you endured at the start of all this, and you’ll be damned if you’re gonna let one lousy bullet be your undoing. You keep a good pace to the back of the house, ignoring any other calls for you to freeze, paying no mind to the weapons held and pointed your way.

“Stand down, dammit! Stand down! Let her go!” Hopper bellows over the megaphone, running to the backyard as he repeats his orders. He sees you slip past the open fence, letting out a sigh of relief that his underlings listened for once. “Good job, kid.” He says softly to himself, before turning back to direct the cavalry to go inside the house and assess the scene. Hopper, on the other hand, intends to meet you at the cemetery with Max to say goodbye. He only hopes you don’t bleed out before then.

The journey back to the cemetery is almost as grueling as the trip out of it was, a trail of blood being left behind as you stumble down the sidewalk. The crow flies overhead, doing what little it can to encourage you to keep going. You still have no idea how it came back to life in the first place, you saw its head get blown off and everything. You do wish its resurrection would have returned certain healing properties to you, but it seems you’re on your own in this respect. You will yourself to soldier on, to make your final stop before you can rest once more. Almost there, you tell yourself as the first row of headstones begins to appear in the distance, like crooked teeth in a gaping mouth waiting to swallow you up once again. Storm clouds rumble overhead, and you could stand to have them rain their cold showers upon you right now. To wash away all this blood, to numb the pain searing through your chest every time you take a step or dare to breathe too deeply.

Your wish is granted once you reach the graveyard, a streak of lightning piercing the sky as icy water begins to fall on Hawkins, though far gentler this time around. You sigh in relief, grunting in pain afterwards as your lungs attempt to fold and expand with much difficulty. You keep walking, trailing through rows of stained stones until you find the crack in the earth you crawled out of last night. The crow perches on your gravestone as it did when it awoke you, bowing its head one last time. It’s job is done, and so is yours. You allow yourself to collapse onto the grass, no longer needing the use of your legs, or much else. Your eyes drift closed, waiting for the sweet release of death to wash over you. It shouldn’t be much longer, and then you’ll be free.

“Y/N!” You hear Hopper call to you from a few rows over, causing your eyes to snap open. You sit up, crying out in agony as you do so. “Y/N.” Hooper repeats, softer this time as he approaches. “I’m sorry, I tried to stop them.” He apologizes, peering down at the damage. The bullet went clean through, leaving a round hole in your flesh.

“It’s fine, Hop. You did more than enough.” You say through a groan. You notice Max is with him, your eyes softening at her presence. Of course she needs a proper goodbye, how silly of you to forget. “Hey, kid.” You smile at her, and she comes closer to kneel beside you.

“Hey.” She says, reciprocating your cheery expression, though she feels far from happy. She doesn’t want to lose you again. “Does it hurt?” She asks, looking at your wound nervously. The skin around it is red and angry, blood washing away faster than it can bleed out of you with all this rain.

“Oh, yeah. Like a bitch.” You chuckle, which turns into a rough cough. “I don’t think I have much longer.” You add.

“They got you pretty good.” Hopper says gravely.

“I don’t want you to die! You did that already! It’s not fair!” Max protests, tears streaming down her cheeks.

“I know, Max. I don’t wanna leave you guys, either. But I have to. It’s the way things are.” You speak as clearly as you can, ignoring the urge to cough until blood comes up your throat. “Hey.” You raise a hand to cup her cheek, stroking it with your thumb. “It’ll be alright. You and Hop have each other. And you have all the memories of me and Eddie to remember us by. Okay?” You say softly.

“Okay.” Max nods, taking hold of Jim’s hand. You lower yours to hold her other one, closing the circle by taking Hopper’s other hand in your own. The three of you sit here a moment, getting soaked to the bone by the rain, quiet tears leaving all of your eyes as life slowly drains from you.

“Think I can take it from here, you two.” A familiar voice says from behind your friends. Your vision is hazy from the blood loss, but you can make out that mess of curls and infectious smile anywhere.

“Eddie?” You ask in disbelief, the others turning around to find your husband standing behind them, his gentle hands resting on their shoulders. A faint light glows behind him, forming a halo of white around his body. He’s untouched by the rain, his hair and clothes dry as can be.

“It’s time to go home, sweetheart.” Eddie says, his words sweet and loving. A sound you’ve longed to hear for what feels like centuries. He steps between Hopper and Max, extending his hand to you. You reach out for it, and he lifts you onto your feet with no effort at all. He leans in close, planting a kiss to your lips. You reciprocate it, more tears rolling down your face at feeling him again. It’s like no kiss you’ve ever had before, healing you from the inside out, taking away the heartache and suffering, leaving only love and happiness in their place. The pain is gone as you pull away, as well as the mess you’ve made of yourself. You’re back to how you once were, beautiful and clean. “Ready, babydoll?” He asks, gesturing at the bright light he appeared from.

“Yes, my love.” You share a loving smile, giving a little wave to Max and Hopper as you return to the land of the dead with Eddie. You walk together into the light, disappearing from view shortly after. You’ll spend eternity in bliss, no longer plagued by the bitter torment life thrust upon you. You know what they say, it can’t rain all the time.

The End.

A/N: I just want to pop in and thank everyone for reading this story. I put a lot of blood, sweat, and tears into it! Happy Spooky Season, everyone. I'll see you round on the next project! - Hippie <3

#hippiegoth97 #fanfiction #eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson x reader #hawkins #hangman's joke #the crow 1994 #90s #the crow au #spooky season #halloween #eddie munson x goth!reader #satanic panic #eddie munson x fem!reader

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abibliophobiaa · 2 years ago

Text

Evermore - e.m x f!reader/ s.h x f!reader

summary: Eddie loved you, he still loves you, but he’s not the man he was before.

tags/warnings: Kas!Eddie/Vampire Eddie, angst, fluff, implied sexual content, character death, bittersweet ending, allusion to pregnancy (very brief, if you squint).

relationships: Eddie Munson x Afab!Reader, Steve Harrington x Afab!Reader.

song suggestions (in order): lovely by billie eilish; evermore by josh groban; beautiful boy (darling boy) by john lennon

Eddie…well, he remembers.

He remembers those before moments clearly.

Those times of togetherness. Of you and him side by side in his bedroom, hands tied together, whispering confessions of love. Of your words, spinning in his mind, as you whisper stories to him in the night, your fingers in his hair and his around your waist.

He can still see your face.

The way you smile at him, the faces you make when you’re hurt, happy, when you’re overwhelmed with pleasure. He can see them all. They’re clear as day still, as if they’re happening at present, an endless repeat in the back of his mind as he hunts—as he kills.

Because he’s no longer Eddie Munson.

No.

There's this otherness now. The mind he shares with this thing that resides in him. The monster. The creature that lurks in the shadows, that whispers of a deeper need, tells him to feed. The part of him that is enhanced, vision stronger, scent more refined, his hearing powerfully adept.

It’s the parts of him he’s most afraid of.

And yet he finds you that April evening, sitting before a little makeshift headstone in an open forest. You speak into the open air like you believe someone hears you, like someone’s listening.

He is, he supposes. He always is.

You’re sitting beside his Uncle Wayne, your head hung low, tears falling into decaying earth.

The world is full of rot now.

Hawkins is in four, and your heart is in two, and Eddie hides in the shadows because it’s best for the one.

He should be happy, he reminds himself, that the spirit of Henry, of Vecna, allows him these moments.

These moments of reprieve where his mind is his and he remembers all the things of his before—of a life that seems far away now.

A mere distant memory.

“I miss him.” Your words carry in the wind and curl around him, beckon him forth, but he never ventures further.

He’s not the man you knew.

Not anymore—never again.

His fingers long to touch you.

To reach out and grasp your hand as he watches from a distance when May burns bright.

You’re at the movies today with Dustin, Steve and Robin. You tip your head back in a laugh as they speak to you, but he knows it’s fake.

There’s a forced nature to the way you hold yourself. Your smile never quite reaches your eyes, the way you shift awkwardly on the spot, how you glance off into the distance.

You try and play it off as sincere, but Eddie knows.

You tell them you had fun, that you can’t wait for next time, that you’re happy you got to spend this time with them.

But when they’re gone, when you’ve returned to your home and creep up the stairs to your bedroom, Eddie sees through it all.

The way your forehead presses against your window, how you search into the distance in the way you used to when you were together. Longing, searching, begging for more.

You cry.

You cry so much lately and he wishes he could take that from you—this endless pain that sucks the life from you.

He misses you.

Gosh, he misses you so much.

But the shadows call, and he answers.

It’s safer this way.

You fell in love quickly, like many often do.

The first date was at the local diner, thighs slicked from nervousness and the summer heat against red vinyl, hearts all fluttery from excitement, his words a fumbled mess from his mouth because you were so pretty and he’d been wanting to ask you out for ages.

And with you there sitting across from him, all he could think was that, and he blurted out how pretty you are and his cheeks stained red because you bit your lip and averted your gaze and he assumed the whole thing was over.

But later that night it was all strawberry flavored kisses at your front doorstep, him nervous at first and you with this dangerous glint in your eye. He’d fall for it every time, and he told you as much, his forehead dropping down against yours to pull away and press a kiss to the tip of your nose.

He asked you, a little breathless, bitten with nervousness, “You wanna do this again sometime?”

And his heart felt like it had been punched in the best way when you’d crinkled your nose affectionately against his and whispered back, “Make out…or another date?”

“Both?” His stomach did that thing where it dropped out beneath him, but he’d thrown all caution to the wind at this point, because he liked you and you liked him and what a beautiful thing to know.

It was a summer love, Wayne had teased, as the weeks slipped on by in the lazy July heat. You spent nearly every day together, whether it was walking around town with ice cream cones in hand, hands stained vanilla and chocolate and rainbow colored sprinkles because you always talked for too long they started to melt, or in the back of his van at Lover’s Lake with a rolled joint shared between the two of you and nothing but time, hours spent in his bedroom where you talked until the moon grew high above the sky and a new day crept and you revealed all your thoughts and deepest secrets, a drive in movie with his friends from the band, where he’d introduced you as his girlfriend for the first time.

He immediately panicked, face hot and red, but you never corrected him. Instead, as the colors from the screen danced in the other boy’s eyes and they were distracted for a bit, you leaned over and kissed his cheek, and told him you accepted.

After that it was the kick start of his heart that first time he’d snuck through your bedroom window. Climbed up your trellis and nearly woke the neighbors as he careened into the room, leaves and other brush sticking out every which way from his hair. You’d giggled, all lyrical and bright, warning him he needed to be quiet. ‘Cause your parents were down the hall and you didn’t want to wake them, but you also really wanted to do this.

He wasn’t sure what to do, mentioned as much, just as you slipped your tank top from your shoulders and bared yourself to him. And he’d whispered a silent prayer, a curse under his breath, as he leaned forward and kissed you slowly, soundly, sweetly, walking you backward until you clambered across the bed and flopped down onto your back, staring up at him with a look in your eyes he’d never seen before.

But it was all for him, and relished in it as you whispered you loved him for the first time.

And what a beautiful thing, because no one had ever told him they loved him before. Not like that, not in the way one gives you a part of themselves, not as you handed your heart to him and he gave his right back.

Soon it was all pretty sighs and gasped moans against his mouth. It was hot flesh revealed as you helped rid himself of his clothes before he worked your shorts and underwear down your thighs, a hand curling around your kneecap as his hips settled against yours. It was a whimper and a plea of, “Need you, Eddie,” and a muffled cry as he pressed your head into his shoulder to stay quiet and slid inside inch by blessed inch for the first time.

And as he loved you in the night, closer than the two of you had ever been before, he promised himself it was forever.

Felt the first flicker of it deep within his chest as you shattered around him, babbling his name and telling him you loved him over and over and over again like a mantra.

Resigned himself to the fact you had all of him after he rolled off of you and opened his arms so you could crawl into them and fell asleep to the sound of his heartbeat.

Whispered it to you against the crown of your head, even though you slept soundly against him, and reminded you in the morning when you leaned up and kissed him and told him how happy you were to be with him, and watched your face as it lit up, because you felt the same.

You still wear the ring he gave you, back at the boathouse, back when you slept under a tarp and prayed someone would take away the burden of Chrissy’s death and the public scrutiny—the allegations that the man you loved was, in fact, a murderer, the threat of Vecna looming closer and closer every day.

He sees it one night as he stands in the trees outside your bedroom, the glint of silver on your ring finger.

He’d given it to you the night before Patrick’s death, said he wanted to marry you after all was said in done, said you were two kids who were probably too young to be thinking about marriage, but he knew it didn’t matter if it was now or years from now because the person he wanted at the end of it all would always be you.

You cried and nodded your head, and he laughed through his own tears and pushed the ring up onto your finger, one of his that had been small enough to fit. He pulled your hand up to his mouth to press a kiss there.

Forever then, you were going to be together forever.

In the end though, you only get a few days.

He breaks your heart and it breaks his because he promises you till he’s old and gray but only days later he watches you from below as you scream his name and sob for him to come back.

It breaks his heart as he cuts that rope dangling through your two worlds and your cries bleed into Dustin’s as he rushes from the trailer and gets on that damn bike.

It breaks his heart because you and Dustin somehow find him anyway at the end of it all, sobbing into his broken body as he pushes your hair from your face and tries to make you smile, even though he knows you’re splitting down the center.

It breaks his heart to watch your hands as they hover over the parts of him that are no longer whole and only bleed, because you want to keep him alive, want to keep your love alive. But there’s so much blood, there’s too much, and even he understands that he’s running out of time.

You’re telling him you love him over and over and over again and he asks you to tell him about your future. And you whisper against his bloody lips through salty tears that, “We’ll…we’ll have a little house with a l-little porch swing so we can sit and you can read to me every night. We’ll adopt a dog—our little O-Ozzy. And you’ll call me w-wife and I’ll call you husband, and maybe someday we’ll do something crazy like have a kid. One with…your hair and your eyes and your heart, because the world needs more of you. And when they’re all grown up, and they m-move out and have families of their own, you’ll still sit with me every night on that swing. You’ll tell me you l-love me and I’ll tell you I love you because…because there’s no reality I want without a forever with you in it.”

He smiles even though you whimper against him because he feels so happy and of all the things he’s done in life, all the adventures he’s gone on, all the choices that have led him here, you’re his favorite.

It makes it less scary, as his vision grows darker and darker and his life bleeds into the ground beneath him, knowing you’re the light to guide his path.

It does little to change the fact he’ll miss you forever when it finally grows dark.

You twist the ring now as you sit in your bedroom window, your knees pulled up to your chest. He sees the way your face crumples as you hold your hand close to your frame, just over your heart, and submit to your tears.

He hates himself, because in this new body he is cursed with a forever, and he’s cursed with a reality with no you in it.

And in the night, with nothing but your image just feet away from him and the moon to keep you both company, he cries, too.

Your first close call comes when the summer bleeds into fall.

Vecna finds a new vessel, his powers grow once more, and the Upside Down bleeds into Hawkins.

But there are those brave enough to fight back, and it comes as no surprise that you’re one of those people.

He watches from a distance, a shadow in the night, a guardian to keep you safe, because it’s the only way he can have you, even if it’s not in the way he wants.

You and the group you grew close with that last week of his life are in the streets of a now broken Hawkins, fighting off a monster that walks on all fours and has a mouth like a venus flytrap—a gaping maw of rows full of gore-slick teeth.

He knows its name. Demogorgon. He feeds off them, walks the same lands they do.

He is not part of the hive.

He’s special, that voice whispers to him sometimes, he’s a most remarkable creation. He’s a monster.

He feels the pull of that other world.

The voice calling his name as the demogorgon grows a little too close to you growls and leaps.

He screams in his mind and the monster’s head turns, turns toward him and in its momentary distraction you slide a knife into its head just before Steve whirls around with a nail studded bat and watches it bleed and die against the ground.

“What’s wrong?” He hears Steve ask you, catching your eyes staring directly in Eddie’s direction. “Are you hurt?”

Steve’s eyes scour your body for any injury, his hands coming to rest on your arms, but you’re fine.

Eddie made sure of it.

Robin turns as well to see what’s going on, Nancy using her shoulder for support, hand cupping a wound on her side.

But he’s hidden in the shroud of night.

That voice whispers his name again, and he knows he has to go back to the place where the sky is always red, but he lingers just a moment longer to hear you start to walk closer, your head tilting to the side, eyes straining to see.

“I just thought…” Your voice trails off in the wind. It’s been so long since he’s heard it, he’s almost forgotten what it sounds like. “Nevermind.”

You're hurt, and there are no beds in the hospital.

You’re hurt, attacked by a demogorgon, so it’s not like they can bring you there anyway. Too many questions, too many risks involved.

You’re hurt, and he watches from a distance as Steve and Nancy bind the wounds on your side with whatever scraps of fabric they have in their backpacks, snow beneath you blooming red like flower petals around you.

You’re hurt and he watches as Steve lifts your weak body from the ground, your eyes closed and limbs slack. He tries to not think about the way you already look gone from this side of earth, tries to picture your smiling face in his mind, because you’ll be okay.

You have to be.

You’re hurt and he follows from a distance as they take you back to Steve’s house, because his parents are gone and you’ll be able to rest up there. Eddie watches through the trees as Steve lays you down in his bed and murmurs with Robin and Nancy, his face furrowing in worry at the sight of you unconscious in his bed.

Eddie ignores the call of the Upside Down beckoning him back home.

Because all his mind can focus on is that you’re hurt, you’re hurt, you’re hurt.

He ignores the voice of Vecna and shoves him into the catacombs of his mind as he climbs into the tree outside Steve’s window and watches for days as you slip in and out of consciousness, towels on your forehead, as you fight off fevers. Steve, Robin and Nancy watch you in shifts, sitting at your side in vigil.

Sometimes the kids do, too, with their hand around your own and mouths moving as they talk to you, as they remind you of all the reasons why it’s too soon for you to go.

One afternoon, he hears Steve and Robin sitting outside on the lounge chairs set up around the patio, Steve’s head in his hands and Robin’s hand on his shoulder as she says, “There was nothing you could do. She knew what she was getting into.”

“But if she dies—if she dies…that’s two in less than a year. I can’t—I can’t lose them both.” If Eddie had a heart, he knows it would ache, because though their tentative friendship had been short, it had been meaningful.

He wishes he had more time to see what could have been.

“Eddie knew what he was doing, just like she did, too,” Robin reminds him. Her voice is low and she sounds broken. They both do. “You can’t carry around this guilt. It’s eating you alive. When did the doctor say they could get here?”

Steve’s breath is shaky as he says, “Tomorrow. They’re coming tomorrow. I just hope she makes it.”

It’s stupid.

Eddie knows it’s stupid, but under the cover of night, he slips out from the tree he’s hiding in and climbs up to Steve’s window. He climbs to where Steve has left it unlocked, always does to make it easy to slip out when his parents are home and the Party comes calling, and pushes in through the parted curtains.

His senses overwhelm him.

The smell of your sickness, the shallowness of your breath in and out of your weak lungs, the slow beat of your heart holding on beneath your ribcage.

There had been a time he’d fallen asleep to it, but now it only fills the cavity where his own organ used to beat with dread.

He reaches out to touch you, but you don’t feel like he remembers.

Your skin is slick and clammy, sweat clinging to the surface, body warm from your fever.

Your lips tremble in your fitful sleep, like you’re speaking, only no words come.

His fingers trail along your forehead, across the hair along your scalp, the curve of your ear.

His ears focus on your breath, the sound of your heart, and he tries to clear his mind of everything else.

Slips into that space he’s gone to only a few times before since becoming this thing he is now.

It’s dark there.

An endless sea of inky night that stretches endlessly on and he finds you there.

Feels the ground ripple near his feet as he walks over to where you sit on Steve’s bed.

In here, your body isn’t broken.

In here, there’s no sickness, no fever, no wounds staining through white bandages with your beautiful life.

Your head tilts up and his breath catches because you’re beautiful and it’s the closest he’s been to you in months.

And your face crumples as you look at him and jump off the bed, rushing over, hands pausing before touching him like you’re afraid you might hurt him—like you’re not sure he’s really there at all.

“Are you real right now? Am…”

“You’re not dead, sweetheart. I won’t let you go yet,” he tells you, bringing his arms around you to hold you close. His legs nearly buckle under the weight of the moment. You fold back into him as you always have, as if you’ve missed no time at all. He nearly chokes on a sob, feels you heave and crumble against him, noisy cries ripping from your throat. “I know, baby. I know.”

“You’re here.”

“I am,” he promises, cupping the back of your head.

“Am I dreaming?”

His chest cleaves in two as you look up at him, your eyes bloodshot, tears falling like glittering stars down your cheeks. His hands slide up to rest on either side of your face, thumbs brushing against your skin, mouth dropping kiss after kiss to your forehead.

“Something like it.”

“So you’re…”

“Yeah, still gone,” he tries to smile, but it makes your eyes water more, your hands shaking against his forearms as you reach up to touch him. “Unfortunately.”

“I love you,” you whisper the words and they sail in the wind in the world that lives in the in between.

“I love you, too,” he tells you. It hasn’t changed, and never will change. Time, space, and death will never erase that. “But I don’t have a lot of time. I need you to fight, okay? I need you to rest and heal. Think you can do that for me?”

“It hurts,” you say, and he knows you mean your mortal, wounded body.

“I know, I know it hurts. But there’s a doctor that’s going to come tomorrow and they’ll give you the medicine you need to kick that infection and patch you right up. I just need you to hold on till then. Think you can do that for me?”

His fingers trail down the side of your face, and somewhere in the vestiges of his mind he can feel your waking body relax, can feel your breathing deepen, your heartbeat strengthen.

“I want to go with you,” you tell him.

He shakes his head. “No. It’s not your time yet.”

Your head drops, and his stomach does along with it. “Will you come back?” Your words are a watery plea.

It's a sad sound that has his anguish exposed, raw anew.

“I’ll try, okay?” It’s the most he can offer you, and you nod slowly, sniffling on an inhale. “You’re going to live a long, long life, okay? I want you to do that for me.”

“I will, Eddie, I will,” you promise. You slide back into his arms, pressing your head against his chest, keeping him close.

“I can feel this place slipping from my mind,” he says, palm sliding up and down your back. “I love you. I’ll always love you.”

You dissolve like that, held safe and sound within his arms, there one moment and gone the next.

In waking, in the real world, when his eyes open and he’s back in Steve’s bedroom, he sees you there.

It’s then, blessedly and finally then, that you rest.

Before long, it’s Spring again.

The weather warms, but Eddie’s body never does. Dead things don’t have hearts that beat, they don’t have blood to circulate through their bodies. His chest rises and falls, sure, but that almost seems like an involuntary reflex of a life that feels more and more like a memory with every passing day.

You’re on Steve’s patio with the Harrington boy himself and Robin. You look more rested than he’s seen in a long while. He thinks to the night before, visiting you in your dreams, laughter in the air as he brought a vision back to your mind, one of the two of you sitting in a field back before the world grew dark, him with his head in your lap and your fingers in his hair, reading to him in an open field.

He hates leaving you at the end of it, hates it every time he has to go, and finds it grows harder and harder to do so every time.

But it’s not reality; he knows that.

He supposes eventually things will crash and burn, just as they always do; he just doesn’t expect it to happen so quickly.

One moment you’re sitting, laughing at something Robin has said, and the next he’s wincing as a twig snaps under his foot. The swear he lets out drives him to move, cursing his body for giving him supernatural hearing and smell, but not the speed he needs right now to outrun you.

Your feet pound in his ears, a thump that beats in tandem with your heart as you tear through Steve’s backyard and rush after him into the open street.

His insides tear in two the first time you call his name into the open air. It’s a cry, your voice shaking, tremulous like you can’t believe your sight.

He pushes faster, feet pumping beneath him, the echo of them a drumbeat. He needs to go. He needs to get far away. Run like hell, because you can’t see him.

Steve’s voice joins into the mix. A call of your name that sounds frantic in his ears. Steve cares for you. Eddie’s not blind to it; he’s grateful for it. Just like he’s grateful for it now, because your footsteps start to slow as Steve’s cries of your name grow louder.

“It’s Eddie,” you shout back, and Eddie rushes around a car and crouches down in your momentary distraction.

Catches sight of himself in a side door mirror, his reflection illuminated by the moon.

His eyes are dark and rimmed with shadow. Lines like little swirls beneath his bottom lashes, a telltale sign he needs to feed. And if he lifts his lip, like he does now, he sees those elongated canines.

He’s no longer human.

Hasn’t been for a while now.

You start to cry in your frustration. He hears your breath coming in rasping heaves, the way your voice breaks as Steve’s body collides with yours, how it wobbles as you tell him over and over again, “It’s Eddie, Steve.”

His eyes drift up to his face once more. The image looking back at him so unlike the boy you once knew.

Even if he would…even if he could, your Eddie is gone.

He’s gone, and he can never be again.

He can’t be what you need. He knows that for certain now.

Eddie crawls around the side of the car and catches the sight of Steve moving to curl his arms around your shoulders, forms illuminated in the street lamp, the way your face crumples against his chest as your cries grow hoarse. The pitiful way you whisper, “I saw him, Steve.”

But Steve’s honest.

He’s always been honest, and it shatters both you and Eddie when he says, “Eddie is gone. I’m so sorry, but he’s gone and I wish I could bring him back but I ca—”

His words break off at the end because you shove at him. Hands coming up to push Steve backward. He doesn’t flinch. Not as you shove him again and again and again as tears leak down your face.

Eddie wishes he could collect them all. Could ease the ache growing in your chest.

“Why would you say that?” Your voice is high and tight.

You shove at him again, body growing lax with your efforts. Feet wobbling, knees growing uneasy.

Steve remains firm, a strong tower, a shoulder to lean on in your time of need.

“I’m sorry, swee—”

“Don’t call me that. He called me that.”

“I’m sorry,” he says, and holds his hands up in surrender.

“I hate you.” You shout it at him, and this time Steve does flinch.

You don’t mean it. Eddie knows you don’t. In a heart full of love such as yours, there’s never been room for it.

It breaks him even more.

Something on your face changes then. A flash of recognition flickers across your features. A slow, painful understanding sliding into place behind your eyes. Eddie wants to rush out, to hold you, to protect you from the utter despair that crashes over your form so suddenly. The way you practically fall into Steve and he’s there to catch you as you come crashing to the ground, howling with the anguish of what you start to sob into the man’s chest.

Of the reality you now understand. Maybe for the first time in the twelve months he’s been dead.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.”

“I know,” he whispers. “I know.”

“He’s gone.”

Steve cups the back of your head.

Eddie’s hand curls into a fist.

“He’s gone.”

Steve pulls you into his lap, rocks you as your cries grow louder.

Eddie closes his eyes.

“He’s gone. He’s never coming back, Steve.”

Eddie watches your heart break all over again.

And he makes his decision.

He knows what he has to do.

You’re there, sitting in the center of your bed as always, when Eddie comes to you in the world that lives in the in between again.

After your close encounter with death, he’s come to visit you multiple times. Always in your dreams, in that land that’s always so dark, and yet it’s peaceful there. He can make it anything he wants to be, a horrifying ‘positive’ to being linked to Vecna.

Some nights you simply talk, your warm hand in his cold one, laying on your bed.

Others, you play cards, put together a puzzle, sing along to music because he misses it so much—if only to pretend like anything about this is normal.

Eddie doesn’t have a heart, not anymore, but if he did…he knows it would be racing because of what he knows he has to do.

This night is different; this night changes everything.

Your head lifts and your smile blooms as he fills your vision, his skin pale and unmarked from the bites that killed him, and it should have been your first realization that he’s not what he once was from when he first began visiting you in your sleep.

The man who died, the man who had closed his eyes and who slipped away your arms is not the same one standing before you now.

It’s why what once was can never be again.

It pains him to admit it.

In another world, another life, he would be selfish.

But he can’t.

He can’t fathom the idea of you aging when he stays forever twenty-one, can’t imagine losing you to time at the end of your life. He can’t think about it because doing so would break him.

And he can’t look at the pain in your eyes any longer. The way you always look to the woods, always searching for him, seeking out the boy who no longer is.

You need to move on, to flourish, to grow beyond this.

Your body crashes into his, your voice muffled by the front of his shirt. He’s always wearing the same thing, somehow never dirty, rid of his blood. “I missed you,” you breathe into him, into the chilliness of his body.

You never comment on it. He sometimes thinks you pretend it’s not real to preserve yourself from the pain of the ‘what if.’

He pulls his head back just enough to look down at you, and your mouth dips south. “I need to talk to you.”

“Okay…” You trail off as he settles down on your bed, his legs straight as you fold yours beneath your body where you sit beside him.

His fingers reach into the spaces between yours and lace within them. His next words, he thinks if he wasn’t already dead, might kill him. “I can’t feel you, baby.”

You brush your thumb along the back of his hand, mouth a wobbly pout as you say, “What do you mean? I can feel you right now. You’re…you’re right here.” You hold your interlocked fingers together in front of his face, trying to smile.

He leans forward and brushes his mouth near the corner of your lips. “I can feel you…but it’s like I’m hollow. Like I'm empty. You notice how I’m always cold now?”

You sniffle noisily, nodding. “It’s cold here, though.”

He brings your head closer to his chest. He presses your ear where proof of his life used to lay inside. Now it’s only silent.

Empty.

So fucking empty.

“Do you understand what I’m trying to say? Don’t make me say it, sweetheart, please.” He chokes on a cry as your hand slides up beside where your cheek rests, your head pulling back enough to look up at him. “Do you get it now? Do you get why it can only be like this here…in your dreams, in our dreams?”

“Eddie…”

“So here’s what you’re going to do, okay? You’re going to live. You’re going to do it to the fullest. Do all the stupid shit we didn’t get to do together. Travel the world. Try all the food. You’re going to move on, okay? I need to know you’re gonna be fine—”

“Eddie, no” you say, swallowing the sob threatening to spill from your mouth. “Just stay here.”

“This—this isn’t real.” The chair imagined the night before disappears from sight. Dissolves into nothing. The books sitting on the floor near your bed, the ones you’ve been reading to him, follow suit. One by one, the image he conjured up slips away. Little particles of light sifting and shifting into nothingness. “I can’t be what I was to you before. That future we dreamed up? I can’t do that. I can’t give you that. Not in this body, not like this. And I can’t…I can’t watch you grow up, can’t watch you and all our friends...please, shit, please d—”

Your hand comes up to rest on his cheek, and he finds you crying silently before him.

“I want you to live for me,” he says, brushing his lips against yours. One of the last kisses you’ll share. “I need you to promise me that. I need you to do all the things I can’t. Take pictures, go on adventures, read all the books, find new hobbies. I need you to experience the world, fall in love with it, fall in love again.”

You’re kissing him and he’s holding you close. His hands fist in your shirt and cling to you, like you’ll drift into the wind, like if he lets go you’ll flutter away. And in a way, you will.

It’s goodbye.

It’s the end of who you both were, who you wanted to be, and no longer can.

You whisper over and over again into his lips that you love him, that you’ll never forget him, that you’ll live for him.

He smiles into your skin and nods his head, his hand coming to rest against your chest.

You’re alive and you're real, you’re his and you’re also not.

Part of you always will be.

“I’ll miss you. I’ll always miss you,” Eddie tells you, his face moving to press into the side of your neck. He feels the shudder of your breath as you take in his words, as you understand the seriousness of them. His finger taps your chest and he laughs, but it’s a broken sound. “I’ll be right here.”

You don’t talk for a while. You rest in the unspoken understanding that this is the last time you'll be together.

It’s the last time you’ll feel his arms around you, the last time he’ll hold you like he planned on doing for the rest of his life.

He presses a kiss to your brow and feels you hug him tighter still as you lay beside him on your bed, legs tangling with his own, your fingers in his hair.

You kiss endlessly. Constant presses of skin against skin.

A thousand, for all the days you’ll be without. You kiss until you’re breathless and in the waking world the sun starts to creep up the waiting sky.

“Live, sweetheart, live,” he says against your skin, feeling you warm, feeling your body start to fade in the circle of his embrace.

“I love you,” you whisper, eyes lingering on his face as particles of light burst and dance around you. Just a few moments now. “I’ll always love you. And I’ll do what you asked. I’ll live, Eddie. I’ll do it for you.”

“I love you, too.”

He smiles, and light bursts behind his eyes.

When he wakes, the sky is red, but all he sees is your face.

He finds peace in that.

Vecna’s gone now. Has been for a while.

The world heals and rests, and the Upside Down chooses Eddie. The world that once was, full of dark skies and death, is now teeming with life.

He’s tied to it now, just as he was before, but more so now.

There’s a small gap in worlds, left open, that he ventures out of every so often to remind him of the place that seems almost foreign now.

He’s on a path he’s traveled many times now.

Not in some years, but he’s familiar all the same. The winding roads that lead to your family home bring him to your front lawn. There are two cars out front, one a familiar BMW, and beside it sits a newer, bigger SUV.

The place looks different than when you were two kids in love. There are more flowers now, brighter blooms, and the smell of something sweet spills from the curtains blowing in the wind.

He hears the heartbeats within the home before the voices. Four all together. Two slower—he knows those are adults. There’s the rapid flutter of what he assumes to be a child, and the last is muffled and swift, unfamiliar to him even after all these years in his new body.

His head tilts up and he sees Steve Harrington’s familiar head of hair moving about a little boy’s room illuminated by a lamp. There are endless blocks strewn in a corner, little postcards from places all over the world plastered on the sky blue walls.

He’s nearly thirty two if Eddie remembers correctly, and wears a pair of thin wired glasses. He’s still disgustingly pretty in that way only Steve Harrington could be.

Steve’s voice is soft as he runs his fingers through the little one's hair. Brushes a kiss on his forehead from where he kneels beside a kiddy bed. “I told you, the Tooth Fairy is nice. Plus you’re four, little man, you don’t have to worry about it for a long time. And if you really don’t want the Tooth Fairy to come, I’ll tell them our house is off limits.”

“Are you sure?”

Steve nods, his chuckle carrying through the gently parted window. “Plus, Uncle Dustin and Aunt Suzie don’t know what they’re talking about anyway.”

“They don’t?” Those little eyes perk up, soft and round like his father’s.

“No, Jamie. Also, didn’t I tell you I’ll always keep you safe?” The little boy nods, and Steve’s finger slides down the gentle slope of his nose until it wrinkles and a boyish giggle reaches Eddie’s ears. “So you never have to worry, because I’ll always protect you. Always.”

“Daddy, can you sing me the song?” It’s then, as Steve nods and shifts to sit in the bed beside his son, Eddie sees the boy fully.

He’s got Steve’s eyes and his dark hair, but Eddie immediately knows the rest is all you.

He doesn’t even need to see you appear in the doorway to notice the clear resemblance. But his breath catches all the same. You’re just as he remembers you. Smiling and beautiful as ever, one hand on the doorway, the other on your hip.

He catches the rings on your left hand, and then higher up, around your neck against your heart where he remains forever now, the ring he gave you all those years ago.

You're thirty-one now, just like Steve, though you could never tell ten years has gone by from looking at you.

You’re that girl from the diner, the same girl he fell in love with so many years ago it feels like another lifetime.

“Jamie Edward, it’s past your bedtime, sweet boy,” you admonish, and Eddie’s throat swells with emotion, chest aching with fondness.

He glows inwardly, because what a gift you’ve unknowingly given him.

Jamie Edward.

“Uncle Dusty scared me,” the little boy whines as you join them and sit on the end of the bed.

Eddie watches your fingers reach across and twine with Steve’s, and he feels that ache in his chest for you start to subside. The part of him that always feared you’d live in the past forever, stuck in the memory of the boy you’d loved and lost.

Steve whispers, “Tooth Fairy.”

You only nod.

Jamie climbs further into his father’s arms, resting his head over his chest, looping an arm around his waist.

Steve rocks the boy slightly and sings. The sound that comes out is beautiful. Uniquely Steve. Quiet, a little raspy in tone, but Eddie feels a weightlessness creep into his soul as the words fall from his mouth and out that open window.

“Close your eyes, have no fear. The monster’s gone, he’s on the run, and your daddy’s here…”

Jamie’s head nuzzles against his father’s chest, and your ringed hand comes up to brush along your little one’s hair as your husband sings into open air.

“Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful…beautiful boy…”

Eddie turns on the heel and starts in the other direction, Steve’s voice following him along the way like a gentle caress.

A healing balm.

He walks down the path from whence he came, a new lightness to his steps.

There’s no bitterness, no sadness.

No, there’s only joy, because you’re happy and you’re alive and so full of it and that’s all he’s ever hoped for.

He kicks a rock down the road and hums to himself, glancing over his shoulder one last time to watch Steve kiss you on the forehead, his palm coming to rest lovingly against your slightly rounded midsection.

Steve moves away from you a second later to close the blinds and pauses. For a moment Eddie wonders if he can see him, hidden in the veil of his shadows. Steve squints and lingers, then shakes his head softly as though he thinks he’s seeing things, and shuts the light before he follows you out of Jamie’s bedroom.

Eddie smiles to himself.

He’s finally at rest.

#Eddie munson fluff #Eddie munson angst #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x afab!reader #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson one shot #Eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #vampire!eddie munson #steve stranger things #steve harrington fic #Steve Harrington x reader #steve harrington x afab!reader #steve harrington x you #newlipsmilestoneoflove

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cooliestghouliest · 1 year ago

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LOVE ME TWO TIMES, ch. two

(chapter one) (chapter two)

PAIRING: eventual Mungrove x Reader

SUMMARY: Struggling to come to terms with the abrupt abandonment of your father, you’re left with two options – attend an “all girls’ therapeutic boarding academy” that’s really more Bedlam Insane Asylum than trusty reformative school, or move half-way across the country to a small town in Indiana to live with your older brother, Rick. The upheaval of your life in Fresno might just end up being a little star-crossed and a whole lot serendipitous.

WORD COUNT: 8.7k+

SERIES TAGS: angst. some pretty heavy topics in later chapters. just enough fluff to hopefully balance it all out. eventual smut (18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI). not a slow burn; it’s pretty hot and heavy right off the bat. eventual love triangle. neurodiversity. dom/sub undertones (dom!Billy, switch!Eddie, switch!Reader), also bi!Eddie and bi!Reader but confused!Billy. drugs and drug addiction. no use of Y/N (but much use of nicknames and pet names). Reefer Rick is Matthew Lillard circa Senseless. more TBA as the story progresses.

CHAPTER TAGS: unexpected tears. some woeful reminiscing. wisecracking siblings. how Rick and Eddie met. flirting in front of a moody bartender. Eddie has a penchant for being self-deprecating but he tries to be funny about it. oversharing. dehydrated!Eddie 😉 (there’s a tease of f!rec oral here). even more cockblocking. a tinge of tension at the end.

TAG LIST: @babybatlover

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chapter title: Nobody, That’s My Name

Packing up had actually taken three hours, mostly because you were so undecided on what to bring.

Your stomach was in knots with the realization that you’d have to leave some things behind. You wished you could just transport your entire room as it was to Hawkins.

This had been your sacred space since childhood. You were only two when your family made the move from Chicago to Fresno, so this house was really all you’d ever had memories of.

Your room had grown up and changed alongside you, a non-sentient appendage and an outward expression of every new trend and month-long hobby you’d picked up along the way.

“Bean, you good?” Rick’s voice called out from the other side of your closed door.

You’d been seated on your bed — it could have been for a few minutes or half an hour, you weren’t sure. You hadn’t noticed the wet line that rimmed your bottom lashes until you turned to look at your brother as he stepped inside your room. When you blinked, a tear broke free and rolled down your cheek.

“My face that ugly? You gotta cry when you look at me?”

You choked out a laugh, bringing a hand up to wipe your eyes dry. Leave it to Rick to try and lighten the mood. It’s what he’d been doing his whole life – never taking anything too seriously, refusing to get hung up on any emotion other than those aligned with happy hedonism.

You’d always wondered if there was a secret storm that raged somewhere deep inside of him.

“All my stuff isn't gonna fit inside your stupid van,” you said, not bothering to explain further.

You didn’t need to. Rick could read between the lines.

This was going to be the first time you’d left the only home you’d ever known for longer than a sleepover at a friend’s house.

The residence itself would never win any awards for being the greatest of places, but your bedroom, on the other hand — that had a surefire shot.

It was here where your dad had first read you the The Hobbit, the precursor to your love of fantastical tales.

It was here on the floor where you made your first prank call with Cynthia Toomey, your childhood best friend. It was to a teacher whose number had been written on a stall in the girl’s bathroom. It didn’t strike you as odd then why a twelve-year-old would know a much older male teacher’s phone number, but after the man had gotten arrested a few years back for soliciting a minor at a park, it all started to make sense.

It was here where you’d heard Janis Joplin for the first time, a record Rick had mailed you for your fourteenth birthday. Her deep crooning voice scratched at parts of your soul you didn’t even know were itchy.

It was here where you’d first taught yourself how to sew a patch onto your backpack; where you’d first tried on the lipstick and eyeshadow you’d stolen from the vanity in your parent's bedroom, something that resulted in a week's worth of extra chores (according to your mother, it was to teach you "the consequences of petty theft" or whatever); where you’d first experimented with a girl while watching Happy Days, soft tongues and even softer fingers exploring every inch of uncovered skin as Fonzie’s signature “Ayyyy’s” mixed with her breathy moans and your rapid heartbeat.

“I didn’t think I’d care that much about leaving,” you admitted, voice shakier than you’d hoped it would be.

Rick watched you from the doorframe, giving a knowing smile in an attempt to mollify you. “Y’know, you might not believe it, but I couldn’t sleep the first three nights after I left. Kept thinkin’ about how much I missed my bed and the noise the air conditioner made that I used to think I hated.” He quieted momentarily, observing his surroundings. Overflowing plastic bags and opened suitcases stuffed full of clothes, books, vinyls, and random knickknacks were scattered across the floor. “It’s still home, even if we never really wanted it to be.”

Rick walked over to one of the cases. He bent down to zip it up, having to put a foot on the grip to shut it enough so it closed completely. “But you’re gonna make a fuck ton more memories in Hawkins, Bean,” he pledged, grabbing the handle and pulling it towards the door. “We are. Okay?”

You chewed your lower lip and allowed yourself a few more moments of wallowing before heaving a sigh, slapping your thighs with the palms of your hands as you stood.

“Okay. You sap.” You snatched as many full plastic bags off the ground as you could. “The first memory’s gonna be about how much weaker you are compared to me.” You looked down at the single heavy suitcase he was carrying, scoffing lightheartedly. “Only one, Richard? Really? You have another hand. Use it.”

And he did, by bringing his free one up to flip you the bird.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

Although your brother had a spacious purple-painted 1970 Ford Econoline the pair of you could have comfortably slept in, the back of the vehicle was currently filled to the brim with all of your luggage.

Any time the side door had to be slid open for whatever reason, an ample amount of contents came pouring out.

One of your "haunted-as-shit dolls," affectionately dubbed by Rick, had fallen victim to the concrete ground outside of a gas station in Colorado. Its glass eye had popped out and shattered, its arms detaching from its tiny body. You’d gasped in horror at the doll’s demise, smacking Rick on his chest for being so careless.

It was safe to say neither one of you were going to be getting anything from the back of the van until you’d made it to Hawkins to unpack, or else Rick would be forced to face your wrath.

Your possessions were prized, goddammit.

So, one motel stay and thirty-two hours after leaving the WELCOME TO FRESNO sign behind, Rick finally pulled into the driveway of his boathouse.

The orange neon lighting of the van’s dashboard clock read 10:13AM.

You’d been soundlessly sleeping for the last hour of the car ride, having dozed off shortly after Rick had put in a Talking Heads cassette, the G Major melody of This Must Be the Place lulling you into a dreamless nap.

Rick suddenly had the brilliant big brother idea to grant himself the honor of becoming your own personal wake-up alarm.

Putting the car in park, he switched the Talking Heads cassette out for Bad Religion’s How Could Hell Be Any Worse? He skipped to a track titled In the Night, cranked the volume to the max, and started to head-bang and sing along wildly off-key.

You startled awake immediately, arms flailing at nothing as you tried to rapidly blink your eyes open.

When you found Rick performing his solo concert, way too committed to the bit, you refused to laugh at the sight, even if it was your gut reaction. The last thing you wanted to do was encourage him. “Noooo, is this what you’re gonna be like the whole time?” you instead asked with faux abrasiveness, speaking loud enough to be heard over the music.

Rick grinned wide, never faltering in his seated moshing, not until the song came to an abrupt end a few seconds later, when you’d finally had enough and reached a hand over to eject the tape.

“I didn’t want you to have an aneurysm,” you told him plainly with a shrug, in response to his offended look. “I could hear your little brain rattling around up there in that thick skull. I got worried.”

Rick shot a hand up to cover his heart, as if he’d been stabbed. “You wound me, little sister. Deeply and completely.”

He pulled the keys from the ignition and stepped outside, hurrying to the passenger side of the van to slide open the back door. He tried with both hands to stop the cascade of your belongings from spilling out, but failed miserably, clothes and books landing in messy heaps on the driveway.

“Hey, what the fuck!” you called out, hopping down from your seat to start picking up what you could from the pavement, pulling your items to your chest. “Don’t you have any grace?”

Rick pretended to ponder this before saying, “Grace, huh. Think I dated that girl in high school. Don’t have her anymore, nope.” That earned a snort and an eye roll from you.

Rick remembered a time when your brattiness would have annoyed him to no end. He knew it would again, and probably soon, but he was surprised by how fond of it he was right now, how much he missed having you around.

“Once we get all this shit inside,” he started, grabbing two suitcases, filling both hands so he didn’t have to hear you comment about his carrying capabilities (or lack thereof) again, “you can unpack, and we can shower and relax. But then I’ve got plans for tonight.”

He’d begun walking to the front door, you trailing off behind him. “So you’re ditching me the first night I’m here?” you scolded, albeit playfully. You honestly wouldn’t have minded some alone time, being able to start decorating and acquainting yourself with your new abode. Still, you wanted to keep playing the part of bitchy baby sister, a role you hadn’t been able to play in so long but a role you fell right back into, as easy as riding a bike. “That’s very rude, Rick. What a horrible host you are.”

“Not a chance, Bean. Plans for us tonight. You’re comin’ with. There’s someone I want you to meet.”

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He’d told you that he was taking you to some bar called The Hideout. It sounded sleazy, and you’d told him as much. He didn’t argue that, just said there’d be food and drinks and live music. And some guy there he knew that was in the same grade as you.

You didn’t know this, but Rick had a plan for Eddie Munson. He was going to barter with his young metalhead friend: be the lookout for his little sister when Rick wasn’t around, and he’d heavily discount the bulk weed and other goodies Eddie bought from him for the foreseeable future.

“What’s this guy’s name again?” you asked, moving to kick your feet up on the dashboard before Rick swatted your legs down. Again.

He’d told you several times already that sitting like that was one of the most dangerous positions to be in if he got into an accident. Said that your legs would snap and your bones would jam through your body. You thanked him for the visual, then kept doing it.

“Eddie," he answered.

“And what exactly does this Eddie look like…?”

You tried to breach the question with as much nonchalance as you could muster, but the intent behind your inquiry was still obvious: was Eddie attractive?

“Off-limits.”

“Hmm. That’s a weird physical description of someone.”

“I’m serious, Bean. Don’t.”

It wasn’t that Rick didn’t like Eddie.

It was quite the contrary, actually.

Rick had met Eddie the summer of ‘84, outside one of Al Munson’s many, many court hearings, after the elder Munson had mistakenly asked both of them for a ride home.

As an apology, Al invited both Eddie and Rick over to where he was currently freeloading at some guy’s apartment, to smoke a few bowls (that ended up coming from Rick’s personal supply) and order Chinese (that Eddie ended up paying for).

At some point that night, Al had mentioned to Eddie that Rick was the go-to guy for weed and weed-alike.

“Oh, shit, man – you’re Reefer Rick?” Eddie had asked after a particularly rough coughing excursion, having hit the piece a little too harshly.

“Reefer Rick? That’s what the kids are calling me?”

Eddie nodded, handing the bowl off to his dad. “Yeah, you’re kind of like a celebrity. Or a unicorn?” Rick’s brows furrowed deeply at this. Eddie laughed before explaining, “Meaning I very confidently thought you didn’t exist. Figured you were just who the posers from school said they got their shit from as a red herring, so they didn’t get in too much trouble when Hop took their stash.”

“Hop, like, Hopper? Beer-bellied fucking pig asshole Jim Hopper? That motherfucker knows I sell?”

Hopper had been a thorn in Rick’s side since just about the day he’d moved in.

Jim had been pulling Rick over for minor traffic violations almost weekly by that point, and if Eddie was telling the truth, the hard-on Hopper seemed to have for him now made a hell of a lot more sense. The cop was probably trying to catch him with something on him.

Eddie grinned like he was letting his company in on a joke. “Well, he knows Reefer Rick sells. You're just Rick Lipton, my friend."

From that night on, Eddie would stop by Rick’s house twice a month to re-up on his stock. The pair would sometimes get stoned around the fire pit in Rick’s backyard after they made the deal, and Rick soon found out that Eddie was not at all like the hardcore persona he projected to the world. And he definitely wasn’t a magnet for mayhem like his old man.

At heart, Eddie Munson was a total fucking nerd.

He liked mythology and board games and doodling and passionately debating which conspiracy theories he thought would stand the test of time. He often marveled at Rick’s comic book collection, standing at the shelves for an hour or so at times, just browsing the titles that stood out to him. Eddie’s favorites to flip through were Rick’s copies of Twisted Tales and Creepshow.

Rick had briefly thought a handful of times that you and Eddie would probably get along great if the two of you ever met.

But then the thought of just how great you’d possibly get along would get Rick irritated with Eddie for the non-existent relationship the boy didn’t have with a sister he didn’t even know Rick had.

On their last meet-up, Eddie had told him that he and his bandmates would dress up as pirates and paladins and go to the Ren Faire twice a year.

The band. That was another reason Rick was wary of introducing the two of you.

Being in the scene for as long as he had been now, Rick knew many musicians, and he wouldn’t trust nearly any of them around his baby sister.

They weren’t all like Eddie, though. Rick had to admit that.

Sure, the boy was a little rough around the edges, rowdy and flamboyant, but Rick remembered being kind of the same way as a teenager – and he hadn’t ruined the lives of any girls, had he? Not that he knew of at least, or at least not intentionally.

He’d been a bit of a relationship hopper, just desperate for attention when you got to the bottom of it, but Rick had never been disrespectful of women. He’d never forced himself on anyone, never pleaded to turn a “no” into a “yes,” never verbally or physically accosted any of them. Rick couldn’t bring himself to even imagine doing anything like that. He couldn’t imagine Eddie doing any of that either.

Despite cringing at the idea of you and Eddie maybe catching something more than just friendly feelings for one another, Rick still couldn’t think of another person he’d trust more to keep tabs on you when he himself wasn’t around.

But Rick could still at least try to persuade you to see Eddie in just a platonic light.

“He’s a dork, Bean. His favorite talking point is why Gollum is just a misunderstood victim. Doesn’t shut up about how they do the special effects in those gory B-horror movies, ruins the whole fuckin’ movie yapping. Plays lame board games with his little weirdo degenerate friends.”

“First of all, Rick, did you ever even read Lord of the Rings?” you started, throwing your hands up in disbelief, and Rick was sorry he even opened his mouth. “Sméagol is totally just a misunderstood victim. I mean, sure, whatever, he bit off Frodo’s finger, but he was basically the reason Sauron was defeated! It’s all the Ring’s fault. It was evil. It possessed everyone.” You huffed, settling back against the seat as you watched Rick pull into a parking space at what you assumed was The Hideout. “Also, are these things supposed to make me want to talk to this guy less? 'Cause if that’s the case, you’re really good at doing the exact opposite of what you intend.”

Rick gave a classic you move, rolling his eyes.

“Just don’t flirt with him, Bean, damn. Please. It’s, like, my only rule. He’s my… friend. He’s my friend. So just don’t.”

You pushed your lips to the side, stepping out of the car before Rick turned off the ignition.

Did your brother know nothing about you? Being told you weren’t allowed to flirt with this stranger, to even go as far as saying he was ‘off-limits’? You now knew exactly what your plan was for the rest of the night: try to break Rick’s only rule.

Isn’t that what little sisters were for?

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

You knew Rick had said there would be live music, but you definitely weren’t expecting four young men about your age on stage singing nearly spot-on covers of Slayer and Iron Maiden songs.

Rick had gotten the two of you a table towards the back of the bar. He’d bought you a vodka pineapple – which he wasn’t initially intending on doing, at first telling you a Coke was all you were getting, something you were not willing to accept; after a hefty amount of prodding, he moped off to buy you the fruity alcoholic beverage just to get you to stop being so fucking annoying about it.

You were nursing the last few sips, sucking the liquid noisily through the small black straw, when the cute lead singer with the mess of black curls brought his mouth to the microphone.

“You guys have been great, really, all five of you, couldn’t ask for better fans,” he spoke to the sparse crowd. No one clapped or cheered or anything, which made you laugh out loud at the one-sided interaction. “This’ll be our last song for the night – ”

“Freebird!” someone in the audience called out.

“Vince, I tell you every time, we’re not fucking playing Freebird, man — it’s never gonna happen,” tall, dark-haired, and handsome sniped from the stage.

Familiar chords started to echo out from the bassist, the moppy haired drummer hit his wooden drumsticks together in a steady rhythm, and the small-town rockstar began singing Enter Sandman.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

Rick had been chatting with a handful of other bar patrons throughout the duration of the band’s setlist. A few of them — older, biker-looking men — occupied your table as the band on stage started to descend, done for the night.

You heard the jukebox start up, playing some Dolly Parton song, a hilarious juxtaposition from the heavy metal music that had just filled the bar.

Your eyes searched for the lead singer, spotting him heading over to the bar alone, the other boys in the band disappearing off backstage with their instruments in tow.

“Hey, I’m gonna go to the bathroom. I’ll be right back,” you announced, but Rick just nodded and waved you off, in a deep conversation with one of the bearded men about something to do with Special K. The cereal? You didn’t know, and you didn’t care to stay long enough to find out.

What you wanted to do was to talk to this Kirk Hammett lookalike that poured his heart out on the stage of a hodunk bar like he was performing in front of hundreds of thousands of people at Madison Square Garden.

His back was to you when you approached, black ringlets of hair falling down past his shoulders, frizzy from the indoor humidity.

You put your now empty drink down on the bar-top, the clinking sound pulling his attention over to you.

Oh, wow.

He was nice to look at from afar, but even nicer to look at up this closely. His face was flushed, likely from the hour-long show he’d just put on, a small smattering of light chestnut freckles peeking out over alabaster skin. His big brown eyes widened as they took you in, as if he couldn’t believe you were staring at him.

“You were great up there,” you started, not able to contain your smile. “Made me forget I was in Hawkins. Thought I was at Whisky a Go Go or something.”

He looked surprised. Whether that was from your compliment or just from you talking to him in general, you weren’t sure. “Yeah?” he prodded, voice deep and raspy, obviously a bit blown out from the seven or eight songs he’d just belted.

You nodded eagerly. He grinned wide, chest puffing out a bit now. Boys plus ego stroking equaled checkmate, one of your favorite mottos.

“Can I, uh, buy you a drink? Whatever you want… whatever that was,” he pointed to your empty glass, “I can buy you another one of those.”

“Nice try, Munson,” came the voice of the bartender. Your new friend — Munson, supposedly — shot him an annoyed look. “I know you’re only twenty. You can have water or a soda. That’s it, kid.”

The raven-haired metalhead turned his attention back to you, face a bit chagrined. “Foiled by the barkeep. Sorry. You want a soda? Best in the Midwest. You’ll never drink another Coca-Cola like this ever again.”

You laughed. “Sure, I’ll take a Best in the Midwest soda. Coke with grenadine, light ice.”

“You heard the lovely lady,” Munson said to the bartender, obviously enjoying that he now got to order the man around a bit. “Coke with grenadine, light ice. Hop to it.”

“Lucky the boss likes you, you little shit,” the bartender was grumbling, but Munson didn’t seem distressed. Amused, if anything.

You watched as his eyes drifted up to the top of your head. “Now those are cool,” he acknowledged, pointing with a ringed finger.

Your brows furrowed in confusion before realization struck. Oh, yeah! You’d forgotten you’d put on a tiny little headband before leaving for the bar. It was black, but had two small red devil horns poking out on either side.

“Why, thank you,” you said, bringing a hand up to touch one of the points. “Although I wasn’t really going for cool. More along the lines of wicked or evil, maybe. Sinful. Be the reason everybody in here’s thinkin’ all those shameful thoughts.”

Had Eddie been anywhere else, or at least not high from the adrenaline he ran on after performing, he knew he wouldn’t have been able to fight off the blush from your comment. That, mixed with the heavy-lidded stare you were currently fixing on him, he’d have been a goner.

Thankfully for him, he was able to continue to false bravado his way through this conversation, as he’d just spent two-ish hours channeling his inner Eric Adams from Manowar. He could act like a big shot for a little longer. “With a face like yours, I don’t think I can call you anything but an angel.” He surprised himself with his flirtatious evenness, but he tried not to let it show on his face.

He watched as your eyes softened a smidge, but the moment was ruined when the bartender shot forward your glass.

“Coke with grenadine, light ice, for the lovely lady,” he mocked, his hard stare never leaving Munson’s face.

When the bartender turned away, Munson glanced at you, then shot a look over his shoulder at the moody man as if to say, What’s this guy’s problem?

You couldn’t help but laugh at his colorful expression before you brought your straw to your lips, taking a sip.

“Oh, fuck!” came the expletive from Munson. “Sorry. Here I am, buying you drinks and calling you an angel, and you don’t even know my name.” He fixed himself into a relaxed pose, leaning his side against the edge of the bar-top. “Hi, there. I’m Eddie.” He offered what he hoped was a beseeching smile.

Eddie… Eddie… where had you heard that name tonight? You knew you’d heard it from somewhere…

Oh! Eddie! As in, Rick’s off-limits, total dork of a friend, Eddie. This had to be him, right?

How lucky you were. You didn’t even have to go searching for your fun for the night. He just strolled off the stage, practically falling right into your lap. He’d even bought you a drink!

Achieving your goal of breaking Rick’s only rule might be a lot easier than you’d intended.

“Ooooh, so you’re Eddie,” you bemused, taking another small drink. “Of course you’re Eddie.”

A worried look overtook his previously collected features. “You’ve heard about me?” he asked. His voice now wasn’t as confident as it had been before. It was tinged with uncertainty, maybe a bit of anticipatory disappointment. “What d'you mean, 'Of course I’m Eddie’?”

“No, no, it’s nothing bad,” you cooed, bringing a hand to rest on his forearm. You could feel the solidity of his muscles beneath your fingers. You fought the urge to squeeze. “All good stuff, actually. Meeting you’s just adding to the intrigue. I promise.”

That seemed to put him more at ease. He nodded slowly, eyes briefly darting down to your hand which was still grazing his arm. You took it away, wondering if he wasn’t appreciative of it.

You’d read it wrong. He was.

“What’s your name?” he asked, finding your stare again.

Should you have told him?

It probably wouldn’t have hurt.

But you were afraid maybe Rick had already gotten to him, told him to steer clear of his little sister. Name dropping yourself might make Eddie back off, and you did not want that.

“You said you can’t call me anything but an angel,” you replied with puckish modesty. “So, let’s stick with that.” You put your free hand out, the one that had previously taken space on his arm. “Hi, Eddie. I’m Angel.”

You were a little bewildering, kind of cryptic, and super fucking hot. Eddie was a big fan of all three. He didn’t want to pressure you into giving an actual name if you didn’t want to. He could live with Angel. It wasn’t like the moniker was inaccurate.

“Okay, angel,” he granted, taking your hand in his. “It’s an honor.” He brought his lips down to press lightly against the skin of your fingers, eyes never leaving yours. He relished in the tiny bite you gave the corner of your lower lip at his action.

The bartender cleared his throat loudly. Both you and Eddie rolled your eyes simultaneously, turning your attention to him again as you pulled your hand back.

“You two mind? No one wants to come up here and drink with the both of you making Fuck Me eyes at each other. Scram.”

“You’re mean,” you admonished.

Eddie laughed at your accusation, bringing a hand up to the back of his neck, rubbing at it under the heavy weight of his hair.

“You smoke?” he asked.

“Smoke what?” you countered.

Eddie grinned. “I was gonna suggest a cigarette, but maybe you’d be interested in something a little… greener?”

Your brows shot up in intrigue and you nodded, sucking the rest of your soda down in three long sips before slamming the glass back down on the wooden surface of the bar.

“Show me the way, rockstar.”

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

“So, I’m pretty sure I’ve never seen you around here before,” Eddie started, leading you out the door of The Hideout, heading into the parking lot.

You’d quickly scanned the crowd for Rick before exiting, wanting to make sure he was still otherwise occupied and wouldn’t catch you sneaking out with the one person he most definitely didn’t want you sneaking out with.

No longer was he talking to the biker bros that had basically accosted him at the table. Now he was sitting so close to a pretty purple haired girl that you were sure their foreheads were touching. His hand was on her cheek, and he was smiling goofily at her.

Good. He should be busy for a while now. Thank you, lavender loc’d lovergirl.

“'Cause you’d remember my pretty face if you’d seen it before, is that the rest of your sentence?” you teased.

Eddie grinned a bit bashfully, hand moving to rub at his neck again. You acknowledged it was probably a tell for when he was nervous or bordering on embarrassed. Good to know, perhaps an essential quirk to tuck away for safekeeping.

“Yeah, something like that,” he admitted with a laugh. “But really. You’re not from Hawkins, are you?”

“I am not from Hawkins, no. I actually just moved here today, if you can believe it.”

“Wow,” Eddie said, voice taking on a bantering tone. “Less than 24 hours here and you’re already walking alone at night with some stranger who many have dubbed a sinister cult leader. I may just be Indiana’s very own Satan incarnate. What ever will your parents think?”

“Well, lucky for you, I happen to be the offspring of a high-level Duke of Hell,” you countered, fully thinking of your mother when you spoke. “Guess it’s a match made in… Inferno?”

“My favorite kind of match,” Eddie confessed with a grin as you approached the brown and cream Chevy Beauville you figured belonged to him.

You paused for a beat as Eddie pulled open the side door before asking, “Do people really think that? That you’re a cult leader?”

“Oh, yeah,” he responded, as if it was the most obvious answer in the world. When he spoke next, he took on a theatrical guise, words laced with performative shock. “When I walk down the street, men can’t help but to scoff and glare; women clutch their purses to their chests; mothers cover their children’s eyes before their children can shriek in horror; dogs bark and wolves howl and the whole Earth opens up beneath my feet.”

You found yourself watching in utter amusement at his sermonizing, your focus unwavering on his expressive hand motions and his demonstrative body language, your ears attuned to every shift in infliction of his voice.

Rick was right.

Eddie was a dork.

But such an endearing dork. A stellar storyteller. A winsome wordsmith. And it was like he wasn’t even trying. Like this ingenuity came to him as easy as taking a breath.

He reminded you a little of your father -- the eagerness to put on a show, the effortless spellbinding nature. The similarities filled your chest with a warmth you hadn’t felt in a long time.

“Too much?” Eddie asked, cringing a little at your silence.

You shook your head slowly, smiling. “Not at all.”

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

Eddie had a multicolor Afghan spread out on the floor in the back of his van, one he informed you was made for him by a past girlfriend of his Uncle’s.

He apologized profusely that the interior wasn’t more appealing, mumbled something about how he should maybe think about getting actual seats installed, but when you sprawled out wordlessly on the blanket, back plush against its scratchy softness, and positively beamed at him, he shut up.

He sat down next to you after finding a half-smoked joint in his middle console, offering it to you for the first hit.

“Where'd you move here from?” he asked after a few moments of peaceful silence, nothing heard but the sizzle from the lit Rizla and the steady stream of cars from the busy street outside.

“Fresno,” you replied, passing the joint to him as you held in your hit until the smoke burned your lungs.

“A California city girl in little ole Hawkins?” he bemused, taking a deep drag. “You must feel pretty out of place here, angel.”

With a shrug, you said, “Dunno yet. It’s only been less than a day, remember?” You took the joint as he extended it out to you, taking a smaller hit this time. “Ask me again after school on Monday.”

“You goin’ to the community college or something?”

“No, I’m still in high school. Senior. I think it’s just called…”

“Hawkins High. Yeah, I uh, I go there too.” That hand rubbing at the back of his neck again. “Um – Paul, y'know, that mean bartender, he… said something about me being twenty? I dunno if you heard. But, yeah. I got held back a few years, so…”

Turns out the hand thing was a sign of embarrassment.

“Eddie, you don’t have to explain yourself to me,” you told him, moving to position your weight onto one side, leaning against your elbow. “Everybody’s on a different path. Besides, high school is such bullshit. It’s basically hardwired for you to fuck up or fail. Believe me, I know.”

You took another hit, this one bigger, wanting to feel the lightheadedness of the high sooner rather than later, especially breaching this subject. It always warranted a lament from you.

“I’ve had specialized learning plans since forever,” you continued, passing the joint off to him. His brows furrowed in concentration as he listened. “I was diagnosed with ADHD when I was little. Like, five or six. I could never sit still in class, and I always needed way more time to take tests than everybody else, and I'd forget whole chunks of paragraphs that I’d just read the second I finished reading them.” You sighed, slightly frustrated at the memories, but the weed was beginning to work its magic. Your muscles felt like they were relaxing, tension drifting away, and your head felt a very good kind of heavy. “But then I got on medicine, and it helped. Still helps.” As an afterthought, you added, “When I remember to take it.”

Eddie considered this for a few moments before sticking the joint in his mouth, inhaling. “Shit. Maybe I have ADHD,” he surmised, exhaling a thick cloud into the air.

“Maybe,” you suggested. “I’d say you could talk to my mom, 'cause she’s a psychiatrist, but she’s actually a huge fucking bitch, so nevermind.”

Eddie laughed, not expecting you to say that, and he'd been in the middle of another inhale so he ended up choking and coughing hard on the smoke.

“Oh, no!” You hurried into a sitting position. “Are you – are you okay?” you asked, and you felt bad, but you couldn’t help the little laughs that were escaping your lips at his now bright red tomato face. You were stoned. “D'you – do you have water in here, somewhere?”

Eddie nodded, having a brief break in his hacking fit, pointing to the front of his van. “Y-yeah, shit,” cough, cough, cough, “o-over there. Fucking fuck, man.” Cough, cough. That last one sounded like it hurt.

You scurried on your hands and knees to the front of the van, scanning the dashboard for some kind of drink. The high made it seem like your eyes could only move in slow motion. Finally spotting a half-drank bottle of blue Gatorade, you snatched it, crawling hurriedly back over to where Eddie sat hunched over, trying to control his breathing.

He took the drink, spun the cap off, and quickly downed most of the contents in an attempt to soothe his raw throat.

“Goddamn,” he rasped out. He realized he was still holding the joint in his hand. He definitely didn’t want anymore now. He looked to you, offering it silently, but you shook your head, rejecting it. He stubbed it out in an ashtray that was laying at his side. Bringing the Gatorade back to his lips, he dipped his head back, finishing it off.

Without really thinking, and weed always loosening your already pretty loose inhibitions, you brought your hand to rest on his cheek, your thumb stroking a small path back and forth on the smooth skin under his eye. “You good?” you asked, the ghost of a laugh twisting at your words.

Eddie’s breath caught in his throat at your touch. He was happy he’d swallowed the Gatorade or else he probably would have started choking on that, too.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt a careful caress like the one you were currently giving him. It was simple, but it felt so good. So soft. And – fuck – you were straddling one of his thighs with your legs, and he didn’t even think you noticed. But he definitely did.

Even though his skin was covered by denim, he could still feel the heat from your center warming him. His cock gave an appreciative jerk in the confines of his tight jeans.

Your eyes finally drifted down to the sitting arrangement you found yourselves in. Slowly lifting your gaze to meet his glassy, doe-eyed stare once more, you tilted your head to the side in quandary, hand not dropping from the curve of his face.

“Should I move?” you asked, voice a pitch louder than a whisper.

“Please don't,” Eddie answered, unblinking.

You let your weight rest fully down on his thigh, shifting your hips once, watching as his eyes rolled back at the contact. He was so receptive that it made your cunt clench around nothing, and you took that moment to pull his face closer to yours, pressing your lips to his almost hard enough to bruise.

Eddie groaned at the feel of your mouth, his tongue eagerly and immediately trying to pry open your lips. You grinned into the kiss, giving him what he wanted by allowing his hot tongue access to slide slippery against your own.

He thought you were sweet and citrusy, like sugared oranges, and a little tart, like ripe pomegranate. He thought fleetingly that if he could, he’d bottle you up and drink you with every meal.

You thought he was fresh and sharp, like spearmint gum, and heady, like expensive sativa. Your tongue fought with his for dominance, each moan from either one of you spurring on the other, greedy mouths working hard to stake their claim.

When you finally pulled away, you were a little out of breath. “God, Eddie, you kiss like you’re thirsty.” Your hand moved from its resting place on his face to tangle in the curls at the back of his head.

He groaned when he felt you tug at the roots of his scalp, bringing a hand up to cradle just under your chin, fingers stretching out over the expanse of your neck. A lazy grin curved at his lips.

“You wanna see thirsty?"

With that, he flipped the both of you over so you were on your back, Eddie positioning himself between your spread legs. You were happy for the padding of the Afghan, knowing the cool steel flooring of the van would have pinched your skin unpleasantly.

He wasted no time in pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, sucking quick but harsh at your supple skin.

You moaned wantonly, lolling your head to the side to give him better access. Your legs moved to wrap around his slim waist, your hips moving up to feel as much of him against your center as you could. Eddie couldn’t help but give a thrust down against you, his persistently hardening cock straining taut against his jeans.

“Can I taste you?” he asked against your skin, pressing softer kisses to the tiny marks he’d left just moments ago with his lips and teeth.

A strained whimper escaped your lips at his request. You nodded, feeling more drunk than high, arching your hips up again to try and garner more friction from him.

“Say it,” he demanded, bringing a hand up to grip at your jaw, forcing you to look at him. “‘I want you to taste me, Eddie.’ Tell me.”

“I want you to taste me, Eddie,” you repeated lewdly, ad-libbing after with, “please, Eddie, want you to make me feel good.”

His pupils blew dark and wide, and he slid the remainder of the way down your body, burying his head under your skirt. Without removing your underwear or even pushing them to the side, he pressed his mouth to the damp fabric, his open-mouthed kisses continuing there. A desperate sound came from him as he sucked you through your panties, the deliciously honeyed scent of you enveloping him completely.

In this moment, he felt like if he died with his face buried in your heat, it would be a very happy and welcomed death.

“Eddie, take them off,” you demanded, shaking your hips around in a frustrated movement.

He laughed at your impatience, but moved to grant you your wish. He hooked his fingers under the sides of your panties, just about to pull them down… before a loud pounding was heard on the outside of the van.

“Hey, Ed? Hate to interrupt you, dude, but my mom’s gonna be pissed if you don’t get me home by 10.”

Eddie groaned loudly, the noise sounding almost pained. It seemed like it took a lot out of him to have to move his head out from under your skirt. He glanced over his shoulder to the clock on his dash, the LED numbers reading 9:35PM.

“This dream just turned into a real fucking nightmare, angel,” he grumbled, biting down lightly at your inner thigh.

You jolted at the feel of his teeth, and couldn’t help but give a frustrated whine at his sentiment, wholly agreeing. Your entire body was thrumming, wanting so badly to be touched and given a release.

“Eddie…?” came the voice again.

“Yeah, Doug, got it. Give me a minute, man.”

Eddie took one more longing look at your clothed cunt, studying the wet spot made from his spit and your arousal. He gave a salacious lick of his lips before dragging his eyes up to meet yours.

“That’s my bassist,” he begrudgingly informed. “His mom’s like your mom. Huge fucking bitch, but don't ever tell him I said that. I have to drive him home or else she’ll forever forbid him to play another show.”

You offered him a placating smile, moving your hand to brush a few of his longer bangs from around his eyes. “It’s okay. I mean, it really isn’t, 'cause I’m so fucking horny right now, but I get it.” Eddie gave another groan at your admission. He cursed the universe for shit fucking timing, and for totally inconsiderate bassists who didn’t have their licenses.

“Can I see you again?” he asked, voice bordering on timid.

It was shocking to you how he could go from dirty mouthed amateur porn star to red-cheeked virginal teenage boy in the matter of minutes. The duality was enticing. You briefly wondered just how far you could push him to either end of the spectrum.

“I’ll give you my number,” you said, but then remembered, “oh, wait, I don’t know my number yet. Um. You can give me yours?”

Eddie nodded fervently, moving to a kneeling position as he reached over and started looking through a pile of stuff on his passenger seat. He pulled out a pen from the mess and ripped off a small piece of paper from an old report card, quickly scrawling down his digits.

“Here,” he said, moving to hand it to you. He did a quick once over though, realizing you didn’t have pockets, so he slid the folded piece of paper under the front hem of your panties. He patted it with his fingers and gave a pleased grin before saying, “C'mon, I’ll walk you back inside.”

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

By the time you’d made it back through the front door of The Hideout, Rick was running around like a chicken with its head cut off, obviously in search of you.

“What the fuck, Bean!” he scolded, marching his way up to you when he spotted you walking in, not even glancing at Eddie. “I don’t pay attention for two minutes and you disappear for an hour?!”

“Two minutes, Richard, really?” you laughed out, the sound incredulous. Because, really, Rick’s timeframe was way, way off. You knew he wasn’t the greatest at math, but damn, right now he was straight up delusional. “You’ve been talking to everyone but me since we got here! You weren't paying attention for way longer than two minutes.”

“So not fuckin’ true,” he said, but his tone was quieter now as if he figured that, yeah, it might actually be true.

Rick’s eyes finally drifted to your side, observing Eddie’s presence. You’d taken great care to fix the boy’s hair and his clothing, making sure he didn’t look disheveled for this very reason – you could tell Rick was sizing the younger man up after finding out the two of you were off somewhere together. Alone.

Eddie looked like a lost puppy, glancing between you and Rick, trying to figure out what the fuck the dynamic between the two of you was. You tried your hardest not to look so amused at his sweet, utterly confused expression.

“Oh, yeah, I ran into Eddie while I was outside smoking,” you explained away easily. “He told me you guys are friends. I figured he’s who you brought me here to meet.”

Eddie side eyed you, unsure of where this was heading. He definitely did not tell you that he and Rick were friends. Eddie didn’t even think him and Rick were friends. He hoped they were, he wanted them to be, but he didn’t think it’s how Rick would have classified their relationship.

Rick turned his apprehensive gaze on Eddie. “Is that true?” he asked, eye contact steady and unblinking.

Best go along with it, Eddie thought.

“Couldn’t be truer.”

The older man seemed to consider Eddie’s response for a minute before a familiar silly grin etched itself across his pierced face.

“Cool!” he exclaimed, clapping Eddie on the shoulder.

Rick had been planning on propositioning Eddie tonight about being your watchdog, but after downing a few drinks and having basically driven around for the past four days straight with little sleep, he figured that conversation could wait a little longer. “You wanna come over tomorrow night, Munson? Hang out with me and the little sister for a bit?”

Eddie’s brows furrowed, shaking his head slowly in uncertainty. “Sure, but... who’s your little sister?”

Rick’s smile slowly began to fade in skepticism as his attention moved from Eddie and back to you standing beside him.

“Me, silly,” you admonished, bringing a hand down to grab at his, concealing the contact behind your back so Rick didn’t see. You stroked the skin on his thumb in a wordless apology for the whole not-being-totally-honest-about-who-you-were thing.

Eddie’s eyes widened at the reveal, still a little too stoned for the realization that he’d just had one of the hottest make-out sessions of his entire life with… Reefer Rick Lipton's… little sister…

Shit.

“Remember? I told you outside?” you were pleading at him with your eyes, still trying to make it not appear obvious that you were lying your ass off to your older brother.

Eddie indulged, not wanting to be on the receiving end of the rage of Rick if he found out what had just gone one in the back of his Beauville.

“Oh, yeah! Right, right!” Eddie tried to play it off. “Sorry, man, I’m just – totally fucking stoned.” That part was relatively true. This whole interaction was making him feel even higher than he thought he was in the first place, actually. Eddie gave Rick what he prayed was an easy-going grin.

You released Eddie and stepped in between the two of them, forcing out a wide yawn. “Rick, c'mon, I’m getting tired,” you brought your hand to your brother’s arm, starting to tug at him, pulling him toward the door. “Let’s go home.” You stressed the last word, hoping that by you referring to his Hawkins residence as that, it would soften and distract him.

It did.

Rick relented, figuring he was probably just looking too deeply into things, understanding his paranoia sometimes got the better of him. Nothing probably happened between you and Eddie. He was probably just being an overbearing older brother. Probably.

“Right. 'Kay. Lemme just go find this one girl and say bye.” He disappeared off into the dwindling crowd, and you assumed he was off to bid adieu to the same purple-haired girl from before.

You took this as your chance to turn to Eddie.

Eddie, who was currently staring at you a little too warily for your liking.

“Please don’t be mad at me,” you implored, fingers finding his hand again. He didn’t make a move to pull away, so you took that as a good sign. “Just come over tomorrow night, okay? We can talk about it.”

It kind of freaked you out how much you didn’t want this – whatever this was – between the two of you to be ruined so quickly.

Since your dad left, you knew things in your life had gone a little downhill, and you also knew you’d been acting a bit belligerently in your attempts to try and ignore it. You’d been making irresponsible, rash decisions all over the board – from school, to home, to friendships and relationships. Nothing seemed to be sacrosanct from your newfound self-sabotaging behaviors.

From this, you’d encountered quite a few willing partners, of both the opposite and same sex, to occupy your mind and time since last summer, and not a single one of them was someone you were interested in getting to know more than just carnally.

Eddie was the first person in a long time you felt you actually clicked with on more than just a physical level, and that was evident from your discourse at the bar, your rendezvous in the van, and now with the realization that you may have screwed it all up by not being truthful to him. You were starting to get a stomach ache. This was so not how you’d planned on the night ending.

Across from you, Eddie seemed to weigh the entire situation as you just had, his dark brown eyes studying your face as he did so. Maybe to find a glimmer of further deceit? Of an ulterior motive? He was used to those things. It wasn’t often people wanted him just to want him. It was usually to get something from him.

However, he could find nothing but honest anticipation in your eyes. His fingers squeezed yours briefly before Rick made his way back over, your brother’s heavily tattooed arm sliding around your frame as he pulled you away.

“See ya tomorrow, Munson!” Rick called.

At the last moment you could, right before the door to the bar closed, you looked back over your shoulder at Eddie. He saw you smile at him. Your intention was to silently ask for the possibility of forgiveness, or at the very least, understanding.

Eddie watched the door you’d exited through for a minute or two longer. Blinking back to reality, he realized he was tired, at first thinking it was just from the weed, but then remembering that Corroded Coffin had literally played a show tonight.

That seemed like days ago at this point.

Being in the van with you had felt like a lengthy escapade, definitely more than just roughly sixty minutes spent together.

Eddie’s palms started to sweat.

He hadn’t known you before an hour ago, but now that you weren’t next to him anymore, talking and teasing, he’d felt more alone than he had in a long time.

Exiting the bar, Eddie headed back to his van.

The whole trip to Dougie’s house and then on his ride back to the trailer park, he was fake scenario-ing all the different ways tomorrow night at Rick’s could go.

Maybe he was bound to be screwed over by you eventually, fucked royally in a not-so-fun way.

But Eddie, ever the opportunist, would likely let you as long as that meant he got to go along for the ride.

#eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson smut #billy x reader #billy x you #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove #billy hargrove smut #mungrove x reader #mungrove

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reasonsmandy · 2 years ago

Text

Love Alone

Warren Rojas x Fem!Reader

✧.* requested by anon — Idk why but I really need some heartbreaking angst for Warren or Eddie rn where it's unrequited love.

✧.* summary — Warren Rojas is the love of your life, and you knew it from the first time you met. But he didn't, he wasn't that sure.

✧.* warnings — A lot angst, I mean it...

✧.* word count — 4.0k

✧.* 🥁 — Warren's masterlist

✧.* part two — Love Me Again

✧.* mandy's notes — You asked me for angst and I brought you everything I had hahahahaha. I got carried away on this one and it's a little big... I hope you don't mind.

Warren Rojas is the love of your life, and you knew it the first moment you saw each other, it was like something pulled you to him and ever since you saw those brown eyes you never got rid of them, not even If you tried.

You met the drummer in Pittsburgh, when you two were still teenagers, you were always close to Eddie's family and consequently became friends with Chuck, Graham and Warren over time. You weren't part of the band, after all you weren't very good when it came to music, your thing was writing and that's where you entered the Dunne brothers scene, when Billy had some writer's block or something you helped with the lyrics and, it always came out spectacular.

So along with Camila you were the audience for all the rehearsals, you didn't understand anything about the musical part of it. You were happy to deal with just the lyrics when you could. And of course, being able to spend afternoons next to your favorite drummer was always nice.

Gradually you were madly in love with him, and he didn't seem to notice anything. You didn't have the courage to go up to him and confess your feelings, so a few months went by with neither of you talking about it.

Warren knew you liked him, Eddie had mentioned it a few times but he decided not to mix things up, after all he liked how things went between the band and the last thing he wanted was a mess. But as you were growing up, the drummer noticed that you were prettier, more confident about your desires, and little by little you stopped being shy around him.

That night you were celebrating Graham's birthday, everyone was in the backyard of the Dunnes' house, singing, talking and smoking after their mother had gone to bed. Billy was holding Camila's who was in his lap, Graham and Eddie were playing one game you never understood to this day, Chuck was already gone. He was strangely distant the last few days but you guys decided not to worry too much, and Warren was watching the sky while he smoked.

He seemed to have noticed your gaze on him, because he motioned with his cigarette beckoning you to join him, so you did. He took another cigarette from the pack offering it to you, you accepted by putting it in your mouth and asking him to light it.

"You look like your mind is somewhere else War…" You say blowing the smoke to the opposite side.

"Just thinking." He says looking into your eyes, making you a little nervous. "You look gorgeous, doll."

The butterflies in your stomach felt like they were going to fly you away, you watched the curly man trying to maintain your posture but your cheeks flushed giving it away. You look down at the floor, smiling.

"Thanks." You smoke the cigarette, trying to keep calm.

"You always look really gorgeous, actually." You couldn't tell if he was high or not, Warren always had this calm way of talking.

"Well, you don't fall behind one bit." You say taking confidence, two can play this game.

That night you ended up kissing before he dropped you off at home, you could scream with so much joy you felt that night, it was like you were in the clouds. The feel of his lips still vivid in your mind made you sigh so many times that night.

After that day you were still together, you always went behind Chuck's garage in the rehearsal break to enjoy each other, you exchanged glances throughout the rehearsals, he winked at you sometimes making you embarrassed when you saw that he noticed you staring at him. You believed that was the beginning of a wonderful relationship between the two of you, but maybe you were wrong about that.

Chuck had decided to leave the band, he was going to go to college to become a dentist, the thought of it sounded funny but that was his decision there wasn't much you could do.

It had been a few days since they had played their first gig without Chuck, Eddie had switched to bass which was clearly not something he enjoyed, but it had been enough for them to be able to make a good presentation.

Camila had invited you to spend the afternoon with them, which made you notice that these invitations never came from Warren, it was always Camila who requested your presence with them, but you decided to ignore that thought.

You were sitting between Eddie and Warren, Camila was sitting on Billy's lap and Graham was next to them. You ate some snacks in the park while chatting away, some children around were playing with a ball and making noise with the birds.

"Oh by the way, everything ready with the van?" Graham excitedly asks Rojas.

"Yeah, I took it to the mechanic to have a look yesterday." He smiles, wrapping his arm around your waist. "She's ready to go."

You frown, not understanding what the subject was. Everyone seemed excited about something you had no idea what it was, so you asked.

"Ready to go where?" You look at the drummer, who stops smiling.

"You didn't tell her?" Eddie raises questioning eyebrows at the drummer.

"Tell me what?" Your chest tightened, you didn't know what was going on but being left out wasn't the best of things.

Camila dropped her gaze to the floor, she also looked upset about the situation, you couldn't be more confused. An awkward silence took over the place, you felt extremely uncomfortable, an anxiety taking over you.

Billy sighs, looking right at you.

"We're going to LA." His words made the tightness in your chest grow, you tried to pretend that tears weren't starting to well up in your eyes.

"You guys are leaving?" You question, already sure of the answer just wanting not to believe it. "Will you Excuse me..."

You stand up, holding back your urge to cry, walking away from them. Eddie glares at the drummer, and tells him to follow you.

Warren stands up, taking a deep breath, he walks towards you, by this time you were already crying. He sits next to you, you turn your back to him, if he said anything you would probably cry more.

"Look doll, I'm sorry." He says softly, reaching for your hand.

"Are you?" You look at him, he can't look you in the eyes.

"I am, I just forgot to tell you." He says, patting your hands. "I was getting the van ready for the trip, packing my things, I had a lot on my mind, that's all."

"You were leaving without telling me…" You were very upset, but deep down you wanted to believe him so badly.

"Believe me doll, I just forgot." Warren says, pulling you close to him, you don't try to fight the contact you loved having him close.

You stand there in silence for a while, he holds you tighter, giving you time to process everything.

"Why didn't any of them tell me?" You felt forgotten by everyone.

"I was supposed to tell you" he says, letting out a sigh. "Billy was going to talk to Camila and I was going to talk to you since…"

"Since?" You let go of the hug, looking at him with a small smile.

"Well, since we're together."

You can't contain your smile, he smiles to see you looking better, he enjoyed your presence and you were very dear to him. He just didn't know that your feelings for him were more intense than that.

He cups your face in his hands, caressing your cheeks and then kisses you.

"Come with us..." He asks, and you immediately nod your head.

You were madly in love with him, and love makes us do crazy things, including moving to another place without any planning for you. The fact of being away from him was something much worse in your head.

Then you moved to LA a few weeks later, having Camila go with you made everything easier, having her always around was wonderful. A while later Graham invited Karen to join the band and you guys hit it off incredibly well, your little family was growing and your heart filled with joy to be with so many incredible people.

But little by little things started to unravel, the tour of The Six started and you and Camila stayed at home thinking about what could be happening. Neither Billy nor Warren answered your calls and their absence left you both anxious and missing them.

Camila had decided to go after them, you were left to take care of everything, there was something in you that was very afraid of what you would find if you went with her. And when she came back devastated, with her eyes swollen from crying, your heart broke to see her like this and the anxiety of what your boyfriend could be doing also took over you.

You learned that Billy had gone to rehab when the band returned, Eddie was devastated, Graham worried about his brother and Karen didn't show many emotions about it.

But when you saw Warren come back it was like you got air after a swim, like you finally found the missing piece to fill you. He smiles when he sees you in the room, opening his arms to envelop you in a hug.

"My doll!" He says squeezing you tighter into the hug. "How have you been?"

"Missed you so much." You say in the hug, feeling him close was relieving.

"Well, you won't have to miss me anymore." He says tickling you.

Rojas liked you, he loved your company, spending nights talking with you, spending time with you was good. He also loved the connection you two had, he loved kissing you, feeling your skin and well the sex was wonderful too. He had nothing to complain about you, but there was something missing… and he couldn't tell what.

The months until Billy got back from rehab were rough, Camila missed him a lot and being a mother wasn't easy, you tried to help her with what you could Eddie also was always there for her. You all were trying to keep it together, the newborn didn't make it easy, y'all weren't used to the crying at all, it messed with your sleep.

"Can't sleep?" Warren says from behind you, making you jump a little.

"Poor Cami…" You say when you hear Julia cry even louder. "If we can't sleep, imagine her."

"Do you think she'll stop soon?" Rojas looked tired, bags under his eyes.

"I don't think so." You laugh at his frustrated expression, you hug him around the waist and he places his chin on top of your head.

Nights like this where it was just the two of you, dealing with everything seemed so much easier. Everything was so uncertain since Billy left that feeling safe for a few moments was perfect.

"I love you." you say in the hug, you feel him freeze and instantly regret saying it.

He breaks the hug and places a kiss on your lips. And although that calmed you down, you never forgot that he didn't say it back.

…

The day Billy and Camila had the party to celebrate the new house you were radiant, After so long things seemed to be coming back together, they had the best music in the country and the record company had taken them back, you only had reasons to celebrate.

You had a big smile on your face when you walked in the house, the decor was wonderful, the food smelled great, and you had your "family" there for that special moment.

Karen was with you sitting at one of the tables in the backyard, from afar you could see Graham and Billy laughing at something, Camila was holding Julia while talking to another group of people, and you couldn't find Warren anywhere.

"Have you seen Warren?" You ask the blonde next to you, while drinking some of the beer you had in hand.

"Now that you mention it, I haven't seen him around here." Karen shrugged. "But don't worry, he must have been late with something, or he's just around the house."

Even with your friend's words you decide to get up to look for the drummer, he seemed distant in the last few days and that worried you. Walking among people you can recognize that curly hair, soon you approach eager to congratulate your favorite drummer, but something's stops you.

Your heart races, your hands start to shake, a shiver takes over your body and you feel your breath disappearing every second longer you watch that scene. There he was, the love of your life, holding another girl by the waist, kissing her the way he does to you.

You can't hold back the tears, breathing became more and more difficult, you needed to get out of there. Gathering the rest of the strength you had, you turn to leave, and when you're finally at the door, you feel someone grab your arm.

"Hey, you're leaving already?" Camila's voice takes your ears, you turn around trying to stop crying but you can't. "Baby what's wrong?"

You can't answer her, you just let the tears fall down your face, it was like your heart was giving up. She hugs you tight, trying to comfort you somehow, she takes you out of the house to a place further away from the crowd.

You are silent for a few minutes, she never let go of your hand as she looked at you worriedly.

"What happened Y/N?" Camila watched you waiting for you to have the courage to speak.

"Warren was kissing another girl." You say in a choked voice.

"What?" Camila was in disbelief. "Are you sure?"

"I know what I saw." Your heart broke when you remembered the image. "He doesn't love me, I'll never be enough for him."

Camila hugs you, she understood the frustration and pain you were going through.

"Maybe you guys should talk." She says fixing your hair. "Sometimes things aren't clear between you…"

"What isn't clear Cami?" You had a lump in your throat that wouldn't go away. "I left my home, my family to be with him. I say I love him everyday, what am I doing wrong?"

"Oh baby, you're not doing anything wrong." She had teary eyes too. "Sometimes you can love someone with all that you got, but it doesn't mean it'll be enough for them."

"I can't deal with this right now." You say getting up, leaving aimlessly.

Camila didn't try to stop you, she knew you needed your time. She gets up going back inside the house with a tightness in her chest to see you like this, Warren would have to hear a lot from her!

She storms into the backyard to find the band assembled laughing at something she doesn't hear. Billy is the first to notice her presence, he gets a little tense when he notices his wife clearly angry.

"Everything alright baby?" the older Dunne asks, pulling Julia closer to his lap.

"Not really, quite the opposite actually." She crossed her arms, looking directly at Warren. "You and I have to talk seriously, ahora!"

"Jeez, she spoke in Spanish. Good luck!" Eddie whispers to his best friend.

"Me?" Warren asks with the cigarette dangling between his lips. Camila nods, he gets up following her.

Those left behind were confused, but they knew that if Camila was dealing with this it was better to let her.

"What's on your fucking mind Pendejo?" Warren's body froze, if Camila was mad at him he had screwed up a lot.

"Why do you say that?" He asks, fidgeting with his fingers nervously.

"Didn't you miss anyone among us?" With each word spoken by her, the drummer became more confused.

"Cami, I'm way too high for metaphors." He scratches his head, frowning.

"Y/N saw what you did." In addition to being angry Camila looked disappointed and that messed with Rojas.

"Niña, I don't know what you're talking about." He actually looked confused.

"You fucking kissed another girl tonight Rojas!" Warren looked away, a little embarrassed. "Look at me! What is on your fucking mind to do that?"

"Cami…" He started to say but didn't know how to explain.

"You don't even have an excuse." She chuckles. "She loves you Warren."

"I know." He says, she arched her eyebrows.

"So why did you do this?" Camila had her hands on her hips. "If you know she loves you, and that you would break her heart. Why did you do it?"

"I want to live, don't get me wrong I adore Y/N. She's great!" He says, little by little he realized how fucked up was what he said. "But she holds me back, I want to experience the best of everything I'm living now."

"Warren, you've been together for years." Camila didn't understand his words.

"That's where you're wrong, we never agreed to date, I thought we were having fun…" Warren starts to say but she cuts him off.

"Para, don't be an asshole!" She says, hearing those words coming from her was a shock to the drummer. "Y/N moved here with us for you, she left her family for you…"

"I never asked her to do that!" Rojas tried to explain, but with each word she got angrier.

"She did it for love Warren!" She looked deep into his eyes. "You didn't have to ask her for anything, that girl is madly in love with you. She would do anything to see you well, and it's very cruel of you to play with her feelings like that."

"I'm not playing with anyone's feelings Cami, ya te lo dije!" He wanted to convince himself that it was true, he didn't want that weight on him.

"Warren, you act like her fucking boyfriend." Camila says, trying to keep calm. "But I'm not your mother, I'm not going to stand here lecturing you. You are already too big for this shit, I don't know where she went, but I swear to God Warren If she's not at home by the time I'm there tomorrow. You'll have a problem! Fix this."

...

You had managed to stop crying a few minutes ago, you watched the dark sky trying to understand how to deal with all this. You loved the drummer so much, but you knew that continuing in this might not lead to anything, even if you loved him body and soul.

If you walked a few blocks more you would arrive at the house in Laurel Canyon, but something prevented you from going there, firstly because you would remember everything you lived with Warren there, what frustrated you the most was thinking that he treated you wonderfully there, it was you two against the world always, you felt loved, cherished by him between four walls.

Secondly, because you knew that going back there would make you doubt whether or not that was your place. Just thinking that everything they lived there was false hurts more and more.

You take a deep breath trying to take the courage to go there, then after a long time standing still you walk there.

…

Warren felt horrible, he knew he had done wrong and he couldn't stop thinking about how to fix it. He liked you a lot, but he knew he didn't feel the same way you did about him, and because you were so dear to him he hated that he had done you harm, even though he tried his best to preserve your feelings.

He didn't want to tell anyone about the conversation with Camila, he was too embarrassed, and he knew that Eddie would probably punch him if he found out about it. So he was quiet for the rest of the night, thinking about how to solve it.

When they arrived at the house in Laurel Canyon the lights were on, so you were probably already there, the drummer's heart raced he was afraid to face you. He was afraid to see you sad and disappointed gaze on him.

It's been a few minutes since he was standing in the doorway of the room you shared, afraid to step in and talk to you. He puts his hands to the door to ask permission to enter, but the door is opened before he can.

He's face to face with your puffy eyes, his heart sinks, he can see you were holding back tears, embarrassed he drops his gaze to the floor.

"Look Warren don't worry, I'm packing my things…" You say in a broken voice.

"What?" He says trying to hold your hands, you step back. "Doll, please don't be like that. You don't have to leave."

"Are you serious right now?" He could hear the pain in your voice. "Enter the room, no one needs to hear our conversation."

You ask and he does, sitting on the bed next to you.

"Warren, I love you…" You say, not holding the tear anymore. "And although leaving you will hurt me, I can't just let you hurt me even more."

Rojas had tears in his eyes too, he felt really bad about it all.

"We made things work until now…" He says holding your hands.

"No Warren, I made things work until now." You release your hands from his.

"Don't say it like that doll…" He says, his heart aches to see that the nickname doesn't make you smile like it used to. "I like you, I really do… and I'm sorry for what happened tonight, I messed things up I know but…"

You look down, crying more, he doesn't understand what he said wrong and on impulse he takes your face in his hands. When he saw your teary eyes he regretted it, it was like facing the grossest consequence of his actions.

"What can I do to make it up for you?" He speaks almost like a whisper. "I promise you it won't happen again."

"Warren…" You wanted to say yes, but you knew him. "I can't love alone."

He remained silent, he had nothing else to say to you, and lying to you saying that he loved you too and that it was only you that he imagined in his future was not an option.

"Forgive me Y/N…" His hands were still on your face, forcing you both to look at each other.

"I forgive you." You say crying. "I never thought leaving you would be so hard."

"Stay." He begs you, one more time.

"I need time." You remove his hands from your face, getting up to get your things.

He watches you walk away from him, he cries too, it was like doing something you both needed to do but when the time finally came... It was more painful than ever.

When you approach the door to go, he gets up quickly, you turn to him waiting for him to say something. He doesn't, he just moves closer to you, making your breathing uneven… You kiss him one last time and he holds your waist kissing you tenderly.

"I'll miss you doll." He says with his eyes closed, his forehead resting against yours. "Please, take care… and if you need anything."

"I know." You smile weakly, pulling away from him. "Don't blame yourself, maybe we just met at the wrong time…"

"Yeah, maybe…" He says with a tight chest.

"Can you do me a favor?" You ask, and he nods. "Give this address to Cami, tell her I'll be alright."

He takes the paper, tucking it into his vest pocket, you smile weakly at him getting your bags ready to leave.

"I hope to see you again, doll." He says, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear.

"I love you." You say as an ending, leaving.

Warren sits on your bed, already feeling your absence, he watched your part of the closet empty, your side of the bed without you, it was like nothing fit.

Warren Rojas: She had to leave me for me to realize that no one would love me more than her, and also for me to notice what love really was about, months later I found that paper once again and… I went after her, Cami told me to fix things, and I was finally going to do it.

...

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theclaravoyant · 1 month ago

Text

if you get lost (you can always be found) - buddietommy (Rated T)

When Tommy faces the daunting task of parenthood, he reaches out to Buck and Eddie for help. Could this be a second chance at the future cut short between them, and the family he's always longed for?

AN ~ merry christmas to @miriellesandthegiantpeach <3 written for the @buddietommydaily exchange!!

Relationships: Eddie x Buck x Tommy,

Tags: Accidental Baby Acquisition, Established Buddie, Past Bucktommy, Pre-Buddietommy, Hurt/Comfort, Mild Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Adjacent/UA (Canon Divergence) CW: contains mild references / implied domestic violence (in Tommy's past). please read with care.

title from Home - Phillip Phillips

read on AO3 (~5000wd)

if you get lost (you can always be found)

Well. This is not where he was expecting his evening to be headed.

He was expecting paperwork. Paperwork and drudgery and the frankly ridiculous amount of bureaucracy that comes with death. He was expecting to spend his night drinking and playing far too much Billy Joel and arguing with his cousins about selling Nick's estate.

Instead, he's getting -

Olivia Beth Kinard.

His name is on her and everything, on a little card attached to her swaddle. It isn't his name, obviously. It's hers. It was Nick's - She was Nick's. Nick's and Jaimie's and now...

“Is there really not anyone else?”

The lawyer exchanges a glance with the social worker, and Tommy realises how that sounds.

“It's not because I don't want her,” he swears. “I just – Nick and I haven't been close in a long time. Isn't there somebody who knows her who wants her?”

What he really wants to say, all of thirty seconds into looking at her scrunchy sleepy little face, is I can't imagine a world where she's not wanted.

“That's... not really how it works, Mr Kinard,” the lawyer points out. “You were named in the will and are her nearest biological relative. Of course, you can decline, but in the intervening time while we investigate the possibility of other family being able to take her, Olivia would go into foster...”

Tommy shakes his head, and the lawyer looks a little relieved at not having to pull out the full spiel.

“That won't be necessary,” he insists. “Please. Just. Give me an hour to make a call and get together some supplies.”

Somehow it's closer to four hours later by the time he finds himself at a diner with a baby carrier on the table, a grocery bag stuffed to the brim with nappies and bottles and pouches of food at his feet, and his useless brick of a phone staring up at him. Judging him. Laughing at him. Who on Earth is he calling? What was he thinking? He can't handle a baby.

Maybe he should just call DCP back after all.

Or maybe he should call -

No.

No, it wouldn't be fair to show up on his doorstep after all this time and beg back in. Not after the way they'd left things – not even if he knows for a fact that the kids in Evan's life make everything better. His face lights up when he sees them. He's got a potty training setup even in that bachelor pad of a loft. He's probably changed more diapers in the time they were dating than Tommy has in his whole life. He wouldn't have spent half an hour pacing the baby food before realising the age recommendations for the different ones are right there on the packages. He'd know what to do.

And God, Tommy would give anything to watch him do it. Just thinking of Evan makes the wound burn raw again; the hissing, spitting loose ends like sheared electric cables, of the future he'd cut short between them. He's such a coward. But for Olivia's sake, he can't be a coward anymore. Even if there's no future there anymore, even if Evan is mad enough to let Maddie hang draw and quarter him like she probably wants to, there's no way Evan wouldn't help a child. There's no way he could look at Livvy and not melt.

Okay. So he's still a coward, and this little one's his shield. But at least he's a coward with a plan now.

“Sorry, Evan,” he mutters, and hits dial.

Buck hits send on the email, and sighs. He raises his beer bottle, and Eddie clinks his against it.

“To the loft.”

“To the loft!”

“Truly the end of an era.”

It's a little bittersweet, sure; that place has been where he's laid his head for more than five years now. It's the longest he's stayed in one place since he was a kid. He has good memories there – and no shortage of painful ones too. Even still, Buck can't keep the smile off his face, or the sparkle from his eyes as Eddie pulls up the latest episode of Secretos del Corazón on the recorder. He still likes to pretend he's not as invested as he is, but apparently this week there's a kidnapping and the reveal of Sofia's baby daddy, and Buck just knows he's going to have opinions about it. Opinions that Buck is going to hear about all night. In bed. Together.

Sometimes he really can't believe his life.

“Are you ready?” Eddie asks. What he means is don't interrupt this one, and Buck loves that for him. For both of them.

“Hang on, hang on.” He jumps up to fetch the popcorn from the kitchen bench, and flicks off the lights on his way back. “Ambience, right?”

Eddie rolls his eyes, with an inescapably fond smile of his own.

Buck is about to sit back down, when his phone rings.

“Ignore it.” Eddie waves it away, almost bouncing in his seat. “Secretos time.”

But Buck can't help but stare dumbfounded at the phone. The name on the screen strikes him like lightning. He'd never removed the blue heart after his name, or changed the contact picture from the selfie of the two of them kissing on a hike at sunset. The memory of watching him walk away plays in his head like it was yesterday and he could swear his heart skips a beat. Maybe the ghost of the loft is coming for him after all.

“... it's Tommy,” he manages, and Eddie forgets the television entirely.

“What? Answer it then!”

“I can't answer it, you answer it!”

“Me?”

“You answer my phone all the time!”

“Not when it's Tommy!”

“Please?”

“Fine!”

Eddie holds up a finger and slides the bar across. Buck holds his breath, and before Eddie can open his mouth to speak there's that beautiful, familiar voice.

“Evan.”

He sounds shaken. Heartbroken. Scared.

“Evan. Please pick up. I'm so sorry. I need your help. I – I didn't know who else to call.”

Eddie passes the phone over, and grabs his jacket and Buck's and his keys.

“Tommy? Where are you? We're on our way.”

By the time Eddie and Evan arrive at the diner, Olivia is crying and Tommy's rapidly wearing out his welcome. He rocks and bounces like he thinks he's supposed to; he's tried offering to feed her; he doesn't know how to burp her; nothing helps. Nothing helps, except the flood of relief he gets when he finally lays eyes on them. They were together when he called, because of course they were. They're together together now, apparently, and it makes perfect sense, and call him a selfish bastard but he still can't bring himself to regret calling.

How could he, when Evan sweeps Olivia from his arms and works his magic. He bounces and babbles to her until she's babbling back, and sure, it's late in a poorly lit diner and he's avoiding eye contact like the plague, but he's glowing like he was born for this.

How could he, when Eddie's soft brown eyes find his.

“You okay, man?”

You're okay.

“Yeah,” Tommy chokes. “It's been a long day.”

Eddie beckons him back into the booth and it's way too late for coffee, but his night's shot anyway so why not. He downs a cup and starts to explain, walking backwards through the grocery store to the social worker, the will, the call, the crash. His brother and his sister-in-law had been killed in a car crash. That's what had started all this. He hadn't been on the scene, but it's not like he hasn't seen enough of them to imagine...

“Hey, where's your truck?” Eddie asks, as Tommy fights off visions of scalding asphalt and broken glass.

“In the lot across the street. Why?”

“You're coming back with us tonight. You're going to have some proper food, and a shower, and hopefully a sleep. In the morning we'll call a lawyer and a real estate agent and your tax accountant cousin and whoever else but for tonight, let's just focus on getting you home. Buck, you can drive the Hilux?”

“Hm? Yeah.”

Evan circles back down the isle toward their booth, and finally gets the guts to look Tommy in the eyes. He looks hurt, sure, but more concerned, and Tommy's never been more grateful he met the man. He doesn't dare speak as he carefully trades the settling baby for his car keys; he tries not to think about how Evan's gentle hands linger. How his eyes drag over his lips for a moment when they're close, and the air feels heavy.

“Beth was your mother's name,” Evan says.

“Yeah. I didn't name her, but...”

“It's sweet.”

For a moment, they're standing in another life. One where Tommy didn't leave, and Evan didn't let him. Then Evan clears his throat and drops his eyes and walks away, and it's Tommy's turn to be the one to watch him go.

Buck is already awake by the time Tommy stirs. He's dug out the baby bjorn from his days babysitting a smaller Jee-Yun, and is mumbling Big Red Car to himself, and to Olivia, as he bops around the kitchen getting breakfast. Which for her is just milk, but still.

He smiles at Tommy's familiar grumble, his muss of curls sticking every which way as he drags himself into a sitting position.

“I told you, Eddie's couch is so comfortable, isn't it?”

“Never doubted you,” Tommy promises, although his eyes fall to Olivia immediately. “Oh – thanks, I can -”

“Don't worry about it,” Buck assures him. “She's an early riser, just like- just like me.”

No, he wasn't about to say just like her dad. He hasn't even known her twenty four hours yet. And her dad is dead. And there's so many reasons why it's the wrong thing to even think about saying.

Tommy swallows something down; maybe he's about to point all this out. But he doesn't.

“Mind if I make a coffee?”

“Sure. Make me one too? There's instant above the microwave or a HILDY in the nook there if you want.”

Tommy scoffs. Like everyone who knows Eddie does. “Eddie does not own a HILDY.”

“I bought it for him. Years ago, as a joke.” Buck feels his ears blush against his will. He should be getting used to this by now. Only, Tommy blushes too this time, a little bit.

“'As a joke'?” he repeats.

“Yeah. I know.”

Before they can wade further into the Eddie of it all, they're interrupted by another set of footsteps. Then -

“Tommy?!”

Christopher's face lights up like it's Christmas morning for a moment, but then he glances from Buck to Tommy and back and his grin turns into a frown of confusion.

“Wait. I thought you broke up?”

“We did,” Buck explains, and it's tough to find the words, “but, um - we're still... friends?”

He grimaces, struggling to find the words. The way he'd felt alone in that kitchen with the rug pulled out from under him didn't feel like friends. But we're both self sabotaging insecure assholes who happen to have reunited in a time of need, now he's crashing on our couch and I kind of want to ask him to stay there, feels like a bit much, too.

Tommy sucks a breath in.

“I called your dad and Buck because I needed help,” he clarifies. “And they came and helped me. For which I'm very grateful, but really, I should go.”

“Wait,” Buck interrupts, before Tommy can so much as lift his bottom off the couch. And wait he does, and Buck feels something pass between them just like it had the other night. Whatever it is, it compels him to push on: “... At least stay for that coffee? Chris hasn't even really met Livvy yet. And we've all got the day off - maybe we could go down to Babies R Us, get you set up with a crib and everything.”

“First I've gotta call the bank, the hospital, and Eddie's estate guy.”

“Right.” Buck sobers. “Stay for that, then.”

At least he can make a mean casserole. He hears those come in handy, while grieving.

So Tommy stays.

He doesn't so much stay as not-leave, at first. Honestly, it's nice to have people to help keep him fed and laundered while he checks out funeral homes or gets a little too drunk and hollers Piano Man at the top of his lungs. It's nice to watch Howie and Maddie bounce Olivia on their knees; to have Eddie and Evan get up in the middle of the night when he can't; to have Hen or Bobby swing by the store when he's out of diapers. Which happens a lot. Babies go through a lot of diapers.

(It's nice to have someone to come home to again, too, but he's trying not to think too hard about that).

Then he keeps coming back, as more and more he finds that the good crib and the good bjorn and the good formula and the good everything is over at South Bedford. They've had a lifetime of family to funnel it all there; old toys from Denny and Christopher and Jee, their favourite brands of pacifiers and teething chews, their favourite swaddle techniques. Advice and love and Lord, the gadgets. He has to admit, he loves a gadget.

“This thing is a life saver.” Tommy all but kowtows to the bottle cleaner, watching as it works its magic to get Olivia’s bottles fresh and sterilised. Brushes and nozzles move around with an efficiency it would take all night with manual scrubbing to achieve; it's like a tiny little car wash in there. Maybe it's the baby brain, but he's pretty sure it's a miracle.

“It’s awesome, isn’t it?” Evan agrees. “We’ll need this one for the mini-Jee, but I’ll send you the specs if you like.”

Something about the way he says it tugs at Tommy's heart. (Hope?) He looks up. Evan's fingers play nervously with a little toggle on top of the machine, and he looks for all the world like there's something he wants to say. Tommy knows those big deep eyes too well not too; Evan's heart has always been on his sleeve.

Unless. Tommy wills him to say. Unless you want to keep using this one.

“I... hear there's a sale on,” is what comes out.

“Oh, cool,” Tommy forces himself to say.

Buck's restlessness is loud that night. He’s flat on his back, staring at the ceiling. He’s not even moving much or making a sound, but at the same time somehow he's buzzing like a power saw. Eddie suspects it has something to do with a certain firefighter pilot and his impromptu niece-daughter who have taken up residence in their living room.

“MmmBuck?” Eddie raises an eyebrow.

“’m fine,” Buck mumbles noncommittally.

“You thinking about Tommy?”

He doesn't respond, at first. The sense of buzzing sort of... quiets.

“It's okay if you are, you know,” Eddie promises.

“No, it's not,” Buck objects. “He – we broke up and it's weird that it's not weird. Isn't it? I can't just go 'round inviting people to stay in your house.”

“My house? Since when?” Eddie laughs, just for a moment. He turns onto his side and pulls himself onto Buck's chest, sobering at Buck's beleaguered expression. “Okay, first of all – I was the one who did the inviting. Second of all, you and I both know this is as much your house as it is mine, it practically has been since I met you. Thirdly. I love you, Evan. And if you love Tommy then... I'm sure we can figure something out.”

Evan unlocks something in his chest. The pining ache, the breakup, the upending revelation of it all. The feeling like he could finally take a breath. If you love Tommy? He certainly thinks about him when he's not there. Sometimes it feels like he never stopped. His concerns are Tommy's concerns – are Livvy's concerns. He can see a future, clear as day there. It's just... Eddie and Chris are there too. Can he want that much? Eddie seems fine with it. Maybe he can.

“I know you don’t believe in like… fate,” he explains at last, and honestly, he feels silly himself saying it out loud, but Eddie stays silent, prepared to hear him out on this one. “But I’ve been thinking; what if this is the universe, giving us a second chance.”

“I don’t know about the universe,” Eddie offers, “but the man inherited a baby and you were his first call. That’s not nothing, Buck.”

He gives him a brief, gentle kiss, and settles back onto the bed tucked against Buck's shoulder, and he adds -

“You were mine too, you know.”

And it's decided. Buck's going to ask him to stay.

It's been a couple of weeks now, and Tommy likes to thinks he's picked up a couple things. Like, he's getting the hang of the sway-rock-bounce rhythm that works best for her. He can check the milk temperature, and the baby temperature (apparently they don't self regulate well, whose idea was that), and he can change the diaper. He can tell when she's supporting herself well and when she needs help and honestly, the flush of pride he feels whenever she rolls over is a little embarrassing. It makes him want to write a letter to every early parent he's ever met, and apologise for failing to respond with the appropriate enthusiasm to this stuff.

All told, he's come a long way, and considering he'd never planned on having a baby in his life he likes to think he's handling the learning curve pretty well, actually. Sometimes he even dares to think he's doing Nick and Jaimie proud. Sometimes he can see his little brother in her smile.

“'Cause I guess I'm your dad now, Livvy,” he murmurs, over the world's tiniest spoonful of apple sauce. “Somebody's got to be, right?”

She gurgles, and whacks herself in the face with her own apple-sauce coated hand, because of course she does. She doesn't understand what a dad is, or a mom, or a car or a crash or that she's not alone – not that, never alone. She doesn't understand that he would die for her.

Wow. Having kids is intense.

He sighs, and dips a teething stick into the apple sauce for himself. It's not bad. A little bland, maybe, but apparently he's not supposed to go messing around with crazy flavours like cinnamon or yoghurt just yet. And as he chomps he pulls up the web page Activities to Try With Your Baby: Six Months. He scrolls through, contemplating several they've already been toying with and his eye catches on a paragraph about the development of proprioception and why babies like to 'fly'.

So sue him.

“Wanna try flying, Livvy? Ready?”

He starts off with a gentle little bounce. Then a little, little, big bounce - in reality only a few extra inches, and he's holding on the whole time - and Olivia giggles. Tommy feels the smile break out across his face.

“Oh, you like that do you? Let's go again.”

Little, little, big bounce. Little, little, biiiiiig bounce. She's flying, and this has never felt so easy and simple and meant to be. His little girl is happy and he thought of it all by himself. He even gets up off the couch and starts walking a lap of the room with her, lifting her up a little more and a little more each time until she's sailing over his head – still safe in his hands of course – and she tosses her tiny fists up and down and shrieks with delight.

And then with fear, and it's the worst sound he's ever heard.

It all happened so fast: both of them in clouds of sheer bliss, and then he trips on the carpet or one of her toys and it's only a split second before he catches himself and her and everything's fine and he plops onto the couch with her cradled against his chest and everything is fine but she won't stop screaming. He's made a mistake. She screams until she throws up apple sauce and teething biscuits all over his shirt, and then digs deeper and screams even more, as if to let the whole world know that she's scared. And that Tommy did it to her, all by himself.

“Go for Buck.”

“You need to find Tommy. Right now.”

Maddie's voice is tight – near panicked. Buck's heart drops through his stomach. He freezes right in the way of the tomatoes and upon catching his expression, Eddie drops the onion he's examining; all eyes on Buck.

“What? Did something happen? Is Liv-”

“Olivia's fine,” Maddie promises, despite said baby scream-crying her tiny lungs out in the background. “Something happened while they were playing and freaked Tommy out. He called me and told me to take her to the hospital so I am but... he's not in a good place, Evan. Something's really wrong.”

This time, Evan cuts through him like a knife. Eddie's already prying the grocery basket from his hand and herding Buck back toward the door.

“Did- Did he say where he was going?” Buck manages.

“No.” On the other end of the phone, Maddie lets out a breathy, nervous, almost bitter sort of laugh. “I think you've got yourself another fugitive.”

Everything Maddie went through to make her describe herself like that; it flashes through Buck's mind and sets his heart racing. Everything he knows Tommy went through – is probably still going through, in some ways, especially with his brother so recently passed – turns his stomach. It seems so obvious now that he thinks about it. That of course, he'd struggle with fatherhood after such a troubled relationship with his own father. He just hadn't been expecting it to hit so suddenly, so strongly. Then again, he knows all too well, the mind and the heart work in mysterious ways.

Like now, when inspiration strikes him out of the blue.

“Look after Livvy,” Buck says, “I think I know where he is. I'll call you tonight. Pinky swear.”

“Pinky swear.”

He hangs up, and snatches the keys off of Eddie.

“Where are we going?” Eddie asks.

“Call it gut instinct.”

Eddie hates calling it that, but he doesn't object. He just swings up into the passenger seat, and not for the first time Buck contemplates how lucky he is to have a partner who follows almost his every whim. Even if it means jumping on the 105 with a driver so near out of his mind with worry it seems to have circled back around into painstaking clarity and white hot determination.

He can only hope he turns out to be right.

The sky is clear, the sun bright and warm on Tommy's face as he sits atop the roof – a viewing platform of sorts – at the Harrison Airfield hangar. Keys to his favourite chopper sit clumped in a pile on the tiny metal table before him, next to a pretty average americano in a paper cup. His head's not clear enough to fly. Even in this state he's not that stupid. So he takes a deep breath of the breeze and wonders what on earth he's going to tell Evan and Eddie. Maybe nothing. Maybe he should just keep driving, head up to Colorado. There's probably something in wilderness rescue he could be doing up there and Livvy? Livvy would be safer here. Happy here. With dads who would love her and know what they're doing and who would never, ever hurt her.

He can still remember finding Nick hiding under the bed when they were kids – and once they got too big for that, hanging out in the garage even in the heat or the snow, just so that they weren't inside. He remembers microwave dinners, being petrified of the sound of his own rusty old screen door. The feeling of a leather belt against his skin. He remembers screaming and crying because he couldn't help it, then because it might help. It never did. Most of all, he remembers what it's like to be scared of his father. He could never do that to her again. Not for one second. Olivia deserves so much better.

She deserves better than me.

His phone, too, sits on the poor excuse for a coffee table with the message typed out, unsent. He backspaces.

Please love my little girl. I have to go.

He backspaces again.

I love you.

The door to the rooftop flies open and he jumps. He whips around, to see a very worried Evan and Eddie bursting out onto the concrete.

“Don't do it,” Evan breathes, like the words are bursting from his chest. Then he looks from Tommy – safely, if miserably, sitting and halfheartedly drinking a coffee well back from the roof's edge – and he looks if anything, confused. “What are you doing?”

“Contemplating my navel,” Tommy replies. “And the security at this place, apparently.”

“Funny,” Eddie snips back. “Walk out on everyone you love, do you?”

He steps in front of Evan like he can protect him from Tommy's prickliness and Tommy loves that, he loves them, it's what Evan deserves. His heart aches with it. And it's a low blow, but he can't say it's not deserved even as he rails against it.

“I didn't ask you to follow me.”

“You don't have to ask,” Eddie pushes. “Maddie did. Because she's worried about you. Because she cares about you, Tommy.”

You idiot.

“Yeah, well, maybe she shouldn't. Her stupid decisions aren't on me.”

“And what about Nick then, hm? Did he make a stupid decision, trusting you with his daughter?”

Savage, he should say. That's uncalled for.

But what comes out is -

“Yes! Of course he did! I left him behind, why on earth would he think I wouldn't do the same to her too?! I'm a coward, okay? I'm a coward. And I run when I get scared. Abby. Evan. Nick. I always run. That's what I'm doing here, I'm avoiding my problems like I always do. Livvy deserves better than that, so why don't you two go on home to her and leave me to it?”

It feels like ripping a scar open. It runs so much deeper than he'd thought. Walking out on Livvy didn't start with Evan, didn't start with Abby, it stared with Nick. It started with enlisting as soon as he could and leaving his little brother in the dust, to survive their father alone.

“So which is it?”

Evan interrupts this train of thought.

“What?”

“Are you cutting and running? Or are you leaving because you love her so much you think she deserves better than you?”

In a parallel world, they're standing in Evan's kitchen. Or maybe in his hall, if he'd had the heart to chase him back then.

“I love her,” Tommy promises. “More than anything.”

“Then don't leave.”

Evan nudges past Eddie, and comes to kneel by Tommy, so Tommy can't avoid his face. Tommy does his best to do so anyway.

“You know,” Evan says. “When I was a kid, I thought Maddie had abandoned me. For years I thought she'd run off with her boyfriend even though we'd always promised to leave Hershey together. Turns out Doug was an abusive dick and Maddie gave me her only means of escape to get me out of there. She loved me more than I could ever understand. I think Nick knew you loved him, too.”

He scoffs. “I wasn't as selfless as all that.”

“Not the point,” Evan assures him. “The point is, he left you his child. His most beloved thing on Earth. You must have done something right for him to do that, Tommy, and if you can't trust yourself to see that – trust him.”

“Exactly,” Eddie agrees. “I mean, Buck must have told you about my Will?”

Evan blinks and glances back at him, like he hasn't seen the parallels in this to his own lesson. Tommy frowns. Chris has always been such a part of Evan that Tommy hadn't really thought about the ins and outs of it. How there's so much love there, and trust, even despite going through the tsunami together and crying in front of him about Eddie being shot and going no contact during the lawsuit and all the things Evan feels ashamed of... It's not the same as making his own daughter cry, but it's not not the same either. And Maddie; she and Evan are so close now, too. It's impossible to imagine there was ever that sword hanging over them.

Not to mention, Tommy himself and Evan. Why had he called that night from the diner, if he didn't want to fix things?

Why had Evan and Eddie chased him out here, if not because they believe he's worth chasing?

Evan's words form a lump in his throat.

If you can't trust yourself to see that – trust him.

“I know it's scary,” Evan assures him. “Hell. It's terrifying. Just ask Eddie about the early days with Chris, he's got some horror stories. Or Maddie and Jee. That's why she called me, you know. She knows what it's like to feel like you're bad for your kid. But you're not, Tommy. You're not.”

Hot tears sting his eyes, for the first time in a long time. He can't imagine Maddie feeling like this. Or Eddie. Or Evan. Nobody in the world deserves to feel this awful except for him.

(Maybe not even him. And that's why she called. And that's why they're here.)

Tommy tries to swallow past the tears, and meet Evan's eyes at last. They're big and blue and tearful too and he feels embarrassingly, beautifully pathetic as Evan reaches up to trail his fingers along his cheek. Slowly, ever so gently, he raises up on his knees and follows his touch with a kiss.

“Stay, Tommy,” he insists. “Do the brave thing, and stay.”

#evan buckley x eddie diaz x tommy kinard #polyfire #buddietommy #buddietommydaily #tv: 911 #clara's fic tag

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blueflamehellfire · 9 months ago

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MUNGROVE ANGST NO HAPPY ENDING.

"Welcome Corroded Coffin!" Jimmy says with a grin. He's having to yell over the cheers, but then Eddie raises a ringed hand and they quiet down. "You're latest single has launched you into super stardom."

Eddie kinda laughs at that and nods, "yeah Lonliest took off higher that I thought it would."

"Everyone wants to know what inspired this song." He says looking at them.

"That's really personal." Gareth says with a laugh. "It's obviously about a relationship that didn't work out." Jeff nods his head I'm agreement, but doesnt add anything.

"Well the writers are you, Eddie, and Steve Harrington." He says, "so who did most of the writing?"

"I did." Eddie says raising his hand. "It's about, um..my boyfriend...well ex boyfriend I guess." He says staring at the carpet, "it's about losing him after everything we went through. Everything we shared." He says softly.

~~~~~~flashback~~~~~

Eddie knew that the fight he had with Billy would come back to bite him in the ass, but he didn't expect it to come in the form of a bruised and bleeding Billy laying on his couch with his head in his lap.

"I'm sorry for hiding you away, Eddie. I didnt..." He says softly and reaches up to trace his lips.

"Baby..Billy. Don't apologize I shouldn't have pushed. I didn't think this would happen." He says playing with his blonde hair.

Billy had told his father about them and Neil reacted as well as Billy had expected. He kicked him out after beating him up. It made Eddie feel like shit, but Billy said it was fine.

~~~~present day~~~~

Eddie snapped back to reality when Gareth elbowed him, "sorry I was thinking. What'd you ask?"

"I asked you what happened to him." Jimmy says softly. That's why Jimmy was the top of his field he was non-judgemental or creepy.

"He died in a mall fire the year we were graduating." He says shaking his head, "he was a great guy, just a little rough around the edges. He had been working to unlearn the hate his father taught him." He says proudly. "Anyway. I wrote this song with Steve and Gareth as a kind of answer to its self. Steve and Gare came up with the verses based off my chorus and bridge."

"What was the thought behind the verses?" Jimmy asks Gare.

"We wrote it from Billy's point of view. I got to see Billy's softer side first hand and so it's what I think Billy would say to Eddie telling him that he'll be lonely without him. That he'll love him forever."

"Was it hard for you guys to put yourself in such a romantic place?" He asks.

Gareth laughs at that and looks at Eddie.

"When I'm high I'm already there. I'm lovey and touchy, but it was easy to write this song for me. Easier than any other song. I still love him and perhaps always will."

#eddie munson #stranger things #mungrove #billy x eddie #billy hargrove #mungrove fanfic #mungrove angst not happy ending

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strangerthingsbigbang · 7 months ago

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Title: Hell and Back

Author: @kaizenkhaos Artist: keziahrain Beta: Suo Characters: Billy Hargrove, Steve Harrington, Neil Hargrove, Susan Hargrove, Tommy Hagan, Dustin Henderson, Robin Buckley, Carol Perkins, Lucas Sinclair, Erica Sinclair, Eddie Munson, Heather Holloway, Jim Hopper, Max Mayfield, Relationship(s): Billy Hargrove x Steve Harrington Warnings: child abuse (emotional), major character death (temporary), suicide, violence depicted on page, mental health issues Rating: Mature Additional Tags: Crossover, angst, Temporary Character Deaths, Fluff and Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Suicide, Blood and Violence, Horror, Mental Health Issues, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Abandonment Issues, Medical, Vomiting Wordcount: 40,443 Summary:

Your mother is a God. Your Father is Satan, and you are the Prince of the Underworld. But your mother is gone and your Father couldn't care less about you. So what are you to do? Escape Hell and go and find her of course. This is the story of Zagreus (Billy). Born half God, half Devil, the Prince of the Underworld is desperate to find his mother's love and to escape his father's wraith. It is also the story of an Angel (Steve), down from the Heavens who threatens not only Zagreus' escape but the truce on which all peace is based. This is the story of either the end of the Beginning or the Beginning of the End... A forbidden romance and threats of war blooming, Zagreus wants out of Hell and Steve is going to join him. Along the way, they will find out more about each other and how Steve ended up in Hell in the first place. A crossover of Stranger Things, Good Omens and Hades the video game, this story features a cast of characters both familiar and different and follows part of the story of Hades the video game with a bit of a twist.

Hell and Back by kaizenkhaos

art by keziahrain

Author's note: A big shout out and thank you to my wonderful artist keziahrain and my beta reader Suo.

#stranger things #stranger things big bang #stbb: 2024 completed works #harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #hades the video game #good omens

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sunwarmed-ash · 9 months ago

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🔥Sinful Sunday🔥

You can thank @ihni and their adorable Billy Birthday post for this last fluffy chapter!!! Enjoy!

Chapter 5: Baby you know, I don't like to be alone

Ship: Harringroveson (Steve x Billy x Eddie) Fandom: Stranger Things TWs: Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse Tags: Angst with a happy ending, Billy centered, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, the homoerotism of Billy Hargrove and Steve Harrington's fight scenes, Enemies to Lovers, bi steve harrington, gay billy hargrove, queer eddie munson, lesbian robin buckley Ch preview:

Things have been good for Billy. Suspiciously good. For three weeks too long. So Billy knows, in his gut, he's overdue for a crash.

He’s spent as much of spring break as he could at Steve’s, with Munson’s constant, additional attendance.

Billy’s finally met Robin. Who, is as weird as she is cool. Billy hates to admit it, but he can see why Steve and Eddie like her. She isn't afraid to speak her mind, (or threaten Billy that if he hurts either of them he’ll be dealing with her) and is fiercely loyal to the two of them. It’s nice to see. Genuine friendship. It's so different than every relationship Billy’s made since moving here.

They also conveniently both need a mean dyke in their lives who can keep their egos in check. She fufills that role well.

Neil hasn't walked back into their life, which has been a greater miracle than any of them realize.

Joyce was able to get Billy a raise, which has been making the home life stress between him and Susan reduce considerably, and there's only a handful of weeks left until graduation.

How he’s feeling right now, is the closest to happiness Billy’s felt in- he doesn't know how long.

Which is why he knows the other shoe is about to drop.

He can't help but think this mysterious dinner invitation is it. It came up completely unprompted, and had it not been extended by Joyce Byers herself, he may have laughed in the messagers face.

#sinful sunday #harringroveson #metalsandwich #steddiegrove #steddilly #billy hargrove #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #steve x billy x eddie #eddie x billy x steve #love me or hate me i just dont care #sunwarmed ash #find me on ao3 #buy me a coffee?#links in pinned #reblogs are free ways to support me!#i post new stuff every sunday

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pretty-batty · 5 months ago

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Crybaby

Eddie x Judy (ofc) Part 11 of Eldath's Priestess 5754 Words

Warnings- SMUT (18+), angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, non-penitrative sex, tiddie fucking, monster fucking, mentions of past gay escapades, mentions of past threesome (hinted to be Billy), MEDICAL MENTIONS: needles, overdosing, drugs, intracardial injections. Mentions of major character death. Now on ao3. Thanks to @anakinkshamer, my beloved beta reader and editor. Notes: not canon compliant, also mungrove as a pairing isn't fully addressed, but hinted at.

Summary- As Vecna's power grows, Judy is faced with an impossible choice.

Samwise was bigger than the rest of the demo-bats, waddling at Eddie’s heels like a medium-sized dog. Eddie could only take walks in the dark since he returned home. The yellow of his eyes reflected any light that would shine near him, so sticking to the deep woods would avoid that possibility. Although, the predatory gaze of his personal horde of demo-bats also kept people far from the trees.

This was Judy’s first time joining him, clinging to his arm to keep herself from falling. She understood why there was a “no flashlights” rule, but with the moon covered by pitch black canopy of trees it was impossible to see. No doubt Eddie’s supernatural abilities gave him night-vision, but Judy’s occasional thump “ow” proved that it wasn’t shared.

“You want me to carry you?” Eddie finally asked.

“No, it’s fine.” A lie. It took another scuff of her shoe against a surfaced tree root for her to relent. “Yeah…yeah I’d like that…”

He crouched down, Judy’s hand tracing along his shoulders, feeling around blindly before mounting his back. His arms formed stirrups for her legs. “Your loyal steed, my lady.”

“Thank you, my precious paladin.”

“Paladin,” he finally rose to his full height, Judy wrapping her arms around his shoulders. “Haven’t heard that one in a while.”

“Sorry, I thought you’d prefer dungeon master.” She said, pressing a kiss at the crown of his head.

“If I can stay your paladin, that’s all I need. Edward the Stalwart and Princess Nim Hellarad, reunited at last.” He smiled, switching up his gate to provide extra bounce, Samwise chittering in surprise.

Judy rested her chin on his shoulder. “You think they’ll get a happy ending?”

“I’ll make sure of it, buttercup.”

A screeching rang from beyond the trees, accompanied by a torrent of flapping wings. She expected the trees to stir with Eddie’s own creatures as the larger horde passed over them. But they remained, chittering and snapping at each other, none taking wing.

“What’s going on?”

Eddie rolled his head slightly, groaning. “Vecna’s calling.”

“Like the frenzy?”

“Not that bad. It controls the creatures, not me. But my little buddies wait until I give them permission.” He explained. “So, Dustin tried to explain it to me. It’s like those circuits they had us build in school. There are two lightbulbs. The mindflayer is the battery. Vecna is one switch for one bulb. I control the other. If I’m awake, conscious, the connection is possible, if I’m unconscious, then no connection.”

“I’m not even going to try to get you to elaborate.”

“Basically, if I’m asleep, so are the bats. And all I do is take naps so…”

Judy pressed a kiss against the cuff of his ear. “Among other things.”

“My favorite things…” He purred, “speaking of…you wanna go home?”

“Yes please.”

Samwise stayed outside when Eddie continued to carry Judy inside, still on his back. Wayne was at the plant, Margie in bed. Still, they tamped down their giggles as much as they could. Judy reaching back to lock the back door, her hand returned to Eddie’s shoulder, tapping it twice. “Down, please.”

“Nope. This floor is no good, Princess Hellarad. I must find a suitable place for you.” He announced. Swiftly, with new purpose, he moved to the couch, letting her plop down on the cushions. He turned, gazing at her in the moonlight. “No.”

“Eddie come on.” Before she could finish he lifted her bridal style, carrying her up the stairs and into Wayne’s empty room, plopping her on the bed for a moment.

He stood, panting. His face began to glisten with sweat. One more deep breath. “Nope.”

His body hunched over, yanking her over his shoulder. His arm wrapped around her waist, Judy’s arms pressed against the center of his back. She shook her head with a smile, “Goddamnit.”

Eddie opened her bedroom door with one hand, tossing her on her bed. He closed the door, leaning his body against it casually then turning the lock. His eyebrows rising at the click. Judy was halfway done with taking off her pants, shoes already yanked off with the laces still tied. “Eager, are we?” He asked.

“To get my clothes off, yes.” She smiled.

He laughed, slowly quieting as she continued to shimmy her jeans off her legs, panties as well, chucking them to the side. Her thicket of dark hair glistening in the moonlight as it peeked through the branches of the tree outside her window. Eddie’s hand ran down his inner thigh, moving to stroke himself over his zipper. His claws scraped against the denim, eyes soon latching completely to the sight of Judy’s breasts falling from her unlined, wireless sleeping bra.

“You okay, big fella?” She asked.

His top teeth slid across his bottom lip, pulling the bottom stitch taught, releasing a calming breath. “Your tiddies are always so pretty.”

“You have something in mind?” She purred, lifting her remaining clothes over her head, letting them drop to the floor. She laid back on her pillows. Bathing in his gaze as it poured over her glistening skin like honey. She already knew what he wanted, and she’d gladly oblige. Her hands reached down to the meeting of her thighs, her arms pushing her breasts together. Her right fingers stroked along her clit, the left teasing her entrance.

Her breasts were poised perfectly, caged by her biceps, hypnotizing Eddie with each breath she took. He stripped himself bare, climbing from the foot of the bed, over her body. Before he could straddle her waist, cock poised at the bottom of her sternum, Judy raised her left hand from between her legs, running her slick coated fingers down his cock. Just wet enough to slide in with no resistance.

Eddie's cock slid between her breasts, his tip poking from the top, dusky pink against her moonlit skin. Her left hand settled on his hip, her right continued to pleasure herself. After one pass through her soft tits, his tip began to leak. He hissed through his teeth, leaning his head back to reveal his neck to Judy, her eyes latching on his bobbing Adam’s apple.

Her nails gripped his hip just below his scar as he continued to thrust, smiling at the sight of his two clawed hands reaching down pushing her breasts together himself, rolling his dark thumbs over he nipples. Her top teeth dragged over her lip as their gazes met once again.

Her arms relaxed, no longer needing to hold anything in place. She simply focused on her own pleasure, strumming her aching bud. Any sort of orgasm would do at this point. Her other hand migrated up Eddie's torso, running her thumb over his nipple. The friction set him alight, thrusting quicker and shallower. Each time she looked down, she could see his leaking tip, glistening and dripping with need between her breasts.

She gave his nipple a slight roll with her fingers. Eddie's lips parted in a higher pitched moan. But he kept going, closing his mouth with an “mmm” before closing his eyes, Judy continuing the action a few more times. That sound he made was enough, a wave a pleasure spread through Judy's body, leaving her with that gentle buzz beneath her skin.

She pressed her head into the pillow, exposing her long neck. Eddie's thrusts became more erratic. The sight of her, exposed and used, covered in him and nothing else, must have been the last straw. Before he could ask her to stick her tongue out to catch it, his cum spurted from his tip and up her neck. His mouth opened with another cry as more emptied from him. Judy quickly tilted her face down, lips parting and tongue stretched to accept what he had left. He managed a few drops for her before he let go of her breasts, leaving his spent and aching cock bare.

Judy withdrew her tongue back into her mouth, swallowing his spend as he watched, her right hand finally released from under Eddie’s thigh. A combination of his sweat on her forearm and her own juices on her fingers were muted by her aching wrist, wiping her hand and arm on her sheets before bringing it up and rubbing it with her left hand. Eddie reached down with a “here”, taking her wrist in his fingers and massaging it. “Haven’t fingered someone in a while, you’re out of practice.” He smiled.

“I mean…if you’re offering, I can always play with what you have.”

Eddie let out a laugh, “not my thing.”

“Right, Mister Stone Top.” She added, pausing for a second as Eddie fished tissues out of the box on her bedside table. There was a tightness in her chest, nervous about intruding, before letting it go as she asked. “Did you ever try it, before you got with me?”

He gazed at her, gathering his spend from her neck, wiping it away. His expression softened, “yeah…not a fan. It hurt and I didn’t like how it made me feel…like…emotionally.” Eddie threw the tissues away, gathering more as he moved down to the valley between her breasts, now parted to their respective sides. The soft tissues left her skin dry. He continued rambling, “Honestly, didn’t like the head part either. I mean getting head from a dude, great. They go in and like get it done, man. But like…giving head. Depending on the size, it would feel invasive. I would listen to these guys talking about loving big cocks and how they felt in their mouths, and I was like ‘I prefer it not to hit the back of my throat, thanks.’ Just a sensible four is as big as I need.” Eddie tossed the other tissues away, then paused. “You never asked me about that before.”

“You never asked me about my escapades either. Thought it would be…invasive to ask you.” she explained, sitting up and pulling her knees so her chest. She didn’t know why she felt so self-conscious. “Maybe I was scared that if we talked about it, I’d tell you about what I did, and you might get…weird about it.”

“Me? Get weird about that? I think you have forgotten who you’re with, baby. And what we’ve done together.”

Judy’s face felt flush. “Or that I might feel…jealous…of the people you were with.” She continued, “but it’s weird…because I don’t feel jealous. I feel…”

Eddie’s mischievous smile emerged, his nose pushing past her knees and into her face, “turned on.” Judy looked away, lips tight in embarrassment. He let out his signature chuckle, “baby, the image of you going down on another girl has gotten me through many a night.”

“Really?”

“Oh, fuck yeah. But when I got with you, and when we did that thing with whatshisname…I realized I didn’t like sharing you.”

“I didn’t like sharing you either. And you didn’t even fuck him.”

Eddie pressed his forehead against hers, bumping their noses together. “So, whatever we did before, it’s fine. Nothing to be ashamed of. We can use it as spank bank material for each other. I’ll think about you being three fingers deep in a cheerleader, and you can think about me fucking jocks in the ass.”

Judy let out a wheeze before reeling back and cackling, quickly covering her own mouth, making sure not disturb anyone else in the house. Eddie smiled, pressing a kiss on her nose. “Only! If I have your permission. You already have mine.”

She nodded with a regal air, “Of course. You may jack off to my lesbo escapades.”

Eddie hopped off the bed, his softened cock bounced in the air before he got on his knees, bringing his fists down in a pump of victory, releasing a voiceless “YES!”

Judy continued to stifle her giggles, as did Eddie. His eyes followed up her bedside to her legs, the little hairs almost twinkling like rhinestones. She hadn’t shaved in a bit, but her comfort level with Eddie made it so that she didn’t need to fret.

He rose to his feet, climbing over top of Judy again as she lowered her legs. He rested his ear against her sternum, bracketed by her soft breasts. Her skin smelled like him, and a little bit of her too. Her heart’s gentle rhythm playing beneath his stitched-up cheek. “I can’t believe you’re mine, buttercup.”

Judy’s chest ached at his sweetness, soothed by a slight kiss from the corner of Eddie’s mouth. Her long fingers ran through his curls, nails softly scratching at his scalp. Eddie, like the large beast he was, let out a purr.

She smiled, “I always was, baby.”

As Eddie finally drifted off to sleep, the horde of deformed bats in the woods grew silent as well. The night was finally still.

-------------------------------------------

Maybe telling Judy their plan was a bad idea. That’s what Judy thought, at least. She could feel the sweat form on the back of her neck as Dustin continued to explain how Rick was the only one who could supply the “sedatives or whatever”. Her face grew hot again, eyes fixed to the cabin floor.

She had no place to argue. These kids were all gifted. Strategic in their planning. But feeling Rick’s eyes on her made the feeling of helplessness worse. Judy finally spoke, interrupting the meeting of the young minds. “You understand that an overdose that size can kill him? We’re just gonna breeze past that. There is a fine line. And we don’t have the equipment that could keep him alive.”

“Under my watch, he’ll be just fine. I’ll make sure of it.” Rick said.

She stood up from her spot on the couch, throwing off the balance of the room as everyone else remained seated. “You? You’ll take care of it? I wouldn’t trust you to water my aunt’s azaleas.”

“You can’t blame me.”

“I can blame you for everything if I want to. You got Joe hooked on heroin, persuaded him not to go to rehab before it got bad. He’s dead. You had Eddie selling the harder shit while you were locked up to keep your product moving, had him selling ketamine, the ketamine that Cunningham wanted, and it ended up with her dead in Eddie’s home and Eddie falsely accused of her murder. If you hadn’t persuaded him to do that, he would be fine, he would be living with me far the fuck away from here.” She reached her limit, “So no, Richard, you won’t take care of it. Because I can’t stand the idea of losing Eddie aga-” She shut her mouth, clenching her teeth.

Dustin stood up, walking himself between her and Rick, his hands up to her in submission. “Okay, that’s fine. You…could do it. Right. You got that training.”

Judy’s eyes stung, realizing she hadn’t blinked the entire time she was ripping Rick apart. She closed her eyes, a rogue tear leaking from the corner of her eye. “Have you talked to Eddie about this?”

“It was his idea.” Dustin insisted.

Thum. It had been years since she felt that. The hallow drum within her chest and the mallet striking it, shaking off the cobwebs. She returned to her spot on the couch, Steve to her right, the arm rest on her left, the door behind her.

Thum.

All she had to do was get up and leave.

Just go. Get up. Get back up.

Steve’s hand moved, resting on her arm. It was softer than she expected, warm. “I’d trust ‘em.”

Her voice came out several decibels lower, “Rick or Eddie?”

“Both.”

The meeting continued the plan being very similar to the one from months back. Separate, go in through different points, weaken him, and send in El for the kill.

Judy finally spoke again, “are we sure it’s just El he wants?”

“What do you mean?” Asked Mike, a slight scoff in his voice, “that’s all he’s been saying.”

“Well,” she continued, “from what I heard, it’s Will too, and Max. And it was the three teens who died in spring. People who were face to face with the Vecna or the mindflayer.”

“When did Vecna see Chrissy in person?”

Judy felt her skin prickle, realizing watching the pieces emerge into a single image. “In 1976, a flu swept through Hawkins. The sickest kids had febrile seizures and went blind. The local bio lab made a treatment. The doctor in charge of it, Doctor Brenner…brought his son.”

“One…” El whispered.

She nodded, “Some of the children who received the treatment were Chrissy Cunningham, Fred Benson, Patrick McKinney, Barb Holland, Marty Miller, Vicky Blake…and me.” Her last admission was quietest, hanging in the air. “There are others besides me and Vicky that are alive. No one is within twenty miles of Hawkins, except me.”

“So why are you still here?” Robin asked. There was something about her tone, or the ‘still’ that she added that pinched at her skin.

Judy bit back, “Because my boyfriend is here, and now that I know some of you are willing to kill him, again, I’m definitely not leaving.” She knew she was a little sensitive, a nerve had been exposed when Rick arrived. But her bitchiness was surprising to even herself. “Sorry, that was really mean. Maybe it’s the anxiety or something…but all of this,” her hand moved in a circle to her right, “isn’t helping.”

Her stomach started to gurgle, indigestion, again. She reached into her purse, fishing out her Rolaids, unwrapping a disk and popping it in her mouth. As she chewed, her hand cupped her face, rubbing her nose on her own skin in a hypnotic pattern. Their voices turned into a rumble in the back of her mind, rising and falling with intensity.

“Who was Joe?” The voice carried softly over the others.

Judy looked to her right, where Steve once was Max sat. Her ginger braids over her shoulders. She answered, “He was my older brother. Died thanksgiving of eighty-four.”

“I lost my older brother too, well stepbrother.” Max explained.

Judy placed her hand over Max’s, giving a gentle squeeze. “I’m sorry to hear that. Not something you can get over.”

“His name was Billy. You might have met him. He was an asshole.”

Judy’s gray eyes widened for a moment, grateful that Max could not see her expression. She knew Billy very well…too well…the way his lips pressed against her skin as it spilled over her leather bralette, how his curls looked in Eddie’s fist. She blinked hard to clear her mind.

“But he was your asshole.” she added, shaking her head with a slight laugh. “I know it.”

Max smiled at that, soft, haunted. It dropped. “He was killed right in front of me. This flesh creature shoved its tendril through his chest, punched a hole right through. I can still smell it sometimes.”

“I wish there was something I can give you to make it easier.” Judy admitted, “but there isn’t. You’ll always think of him, and it’ll always hurt. Just each time you do, try to dig deep and find the good memories. Anything to drown out the last thing you saw.” Her mind wandered to Joe’s face, lids half-closed, color seeping away. She shook her head, blinking again. “Sorry about the unsolicited advice.”

“It’s okay.” Max said, “did you know him?”

She took in a breath, letting it out. A little bit of truth was good enough, perhaps his music selection, “yeah. Scorpions, Ratt, Poison. His regular bands. He was nicer than most of my customers, but I think it was to score the eventual discount.”

“Judy!”

Her gaze moved with the nod of her head. The cluster required her attention. Rick had ducked out before she could see him. They had relocated to the kitchen, a map sprawled out on the dining table. She approached. The huddle parted, Robin quickly caught Judy by the arm. “Hey, I just wanted to check on you.” She took a beat, gathering her thoughts before opening her mouth and “I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to come off as mean sometimes I just have those tone problem at least my parents say that I do and I can’t really tell when it happens until it hurts somebody.”

Judy managed a smile, taking both Robin’s arms, “hey, it’s okay. I’m in a place where I can’t…” she searched her mouth for the words, finding none. Just managing a, “ya know?”

Robin nodded, “yeah, definitely.”

“But I appreciate that you’d check on me.” She gave Robin’s elbows a soft squeeze before parting, “I gotta go see what curly wants, before he gets mad at me.”

“Keeping him waiting is never good.” Steve added.

Approaching Dustin, Judy found herself approaching a quartet of young men. Shoulders hunched over the map, murmuring amongst themselves. “So, what do you need?”

“You and Rick need to cover Eddie, the best placement is your house.” Will said.

Dustin continued, “Far enough from a gate that if something goes wrong, it stalls Vecna from being able to regain his bat horde to his location.”

“There is a big chance that this will kill him, you understand that? For all we know, Vecna is what’s keeping him alive.” Judy chewed on her bottom lip, “so either the overdose kills him”

Mike concluded. “And Vecna loses control of that horde permanently.”

“Or Eddie survives the drugs, Vecna dies…and Eddie dies.” Judy finished, “God you guys are really dead set on killing him.”

“We don’t know if it’ll kill him. His wounds have healed. You might be able to restart his heart with a defibrillator.” Lucas introjected.

“That’s not how it works. Defibs only reset an abnormal heartrate.” She explained, “It’s not like tv. You’d have to give him epinephrine, either intravenously or intracardially, all the while doing continuous chest compressions. And I’m not trained to put in a line. Hopefully, in that time, Rick would have called EMS. God knows I can’t bring myself to trust that man.”

“You’ll have to.”

The words spat like hot grease, her lip curling in disgust. “I’ll have to talk to him about this.” She meant Eddie. Her Eddie, who somehow managed to assist in concocting this plot that would most certainly end with his death. Judy was beginning to think he wanted to kill himself. Not knowing that Eddie, in fact, had limited time anyway.

His “not yet” had turned into “not ever” as he pushed the inevitable discussion of his death further away. Robbing Judy of solid ground, until she was blindsided by this eventual execution in 36 hours.

By “talk to him about it”, Judy originally meant scream at him about it until she had an aneurism. But when she got home to him, his sad puppy eyes, his guilt-ridden expression. She could only melt into his arms and sob. The two landing on the entryway floor.

“I don’t want you to die.” She managed choke out, another deep sob wracked her body. “Please, Eddie. Just tell me you don’t want to do this.”

Eddie’s chin rested atop her head. “I don’t want to do this, baby.” He ran his cheek along her hair. She had managed to fold herself into the smallest shape possible, curling into his lap. “He’ll kill me, regardless.” Judy let out another wail, muffled by Eddie’s t-shirt. “I’m so sorry, Judy. Wish I had told you.” His lips parted in her hair, at first to press a kiss, but only to let out a cry of his own. His chest shook against her cheek. His speech became clenched and difficult. “I don’t wanna die, babe.” He hiccupped, “But I w-will.” He sucked in a breath. “Jst wanna do something right.” His voice ran dry, managing quiet whimpers of “I’m so sorry, Judy.”

Wayne and Margie were sitting on the back steps, each with a glass of whiskey in their hands. While Judy had been told of the plan from the Scooby Gang, Eddie had told Wayne and Margie. Their faces now haggard and pale, carrying the heavy burden of the incoming death of another nephew, another son. Samwise, like the dutiful companion it was, stayed at their feet, purring in an attempt to comfort them, only seeming to unnerve them instead.

Within the next day and a half, Judy and Eddie didn’t leave the house, hardly leaving the bedroom. If they did, it was together. Attached at the hip, or both hips, arms around each other. As if they were teenagers again, finally together after almost a decade of avoiding their feelings. But the reason was different this time. In counting down the hours, neither one wanted to miss a moment. Judy could never get sick of Eddie. And Eddie, riddled with terror and guilt, just wanted his girl close. To smell her, feel her, to open his eyes and see her.

“My princess” “my angel” “my girl”, anything he could call her other than her name would pour from his lips. As for her name, he practically breathed it. Wrapped around her, within her, anything he could do.

While they spent their last moments together, Margie and Wayne made their plans to evacuate, at their children’s behest. Wayne was the more reluctant of the two. But after many tears and pleas, Margie was in the beetle driving to stay with a friend in Indianapolis. Wayne, on the other hand, was much harder to sway.

“You needed me, and I wasn’t there.” The older man insisted, “I can’t live with myself again if I failed you a second time.”

“You didn’t fail me, pop. But if you die in this…” Eddie took in a deep breath, “I need you to be here for Judy when it’s done. And me…if I magically survive. Please, just this once, listen to me.” He reached out, the first time he had separated himself from Judy in hours and brought Wayne into a hug. “Please, I need you to get out of here.”

Wayne’s arms slowly wrapped around his nephew, holding him as close as he could. His eyes shimmered with tears before finally relenting, “alright.” He gave Eddie one last squeeze, “you stink, son.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, just…clean yourself up before you do your thing. Don’t want you runnin’ around lookin’ like no one cares about you.” Finally, they separated, Wayne giving his nephew one last kiss on his forehead, ruffling his hair. No doubt something he used to do when Eddie was younger. They said their goodbyes before Wayne got in his car and slowly rolled out of the driveway. He lingered in front of the house for a moment, before raising his hand in one last wave, driving east and out of Hawkins.

6 Hours remained.

Eddie and Judy rarely showered together. Unless they were willing to exert significant effort neither of them could get properly clean. This was their last chance to try again. They got in the shower, bare chest to chest, rotating together in fourths to get properly clean.

“This is so stupid.” Judy laughed.

“Listen, babe, I don’t know what you want from me.” Half of Eddie’s mane was under the water, the other half still white with suds. “This was your plan.”

Judy was in the same situation, a direct mirror of Eddie, water down half her curls, the other sudsy and smelling of oranges. They continued their dance, taking a hour for a normal shower. Taking as long as they needed. Drying each other off gently, peppering each other with kisses when they could.

Attempting to make six hours feel like an eternity. And to their effort, it did. They were cuddled on the couch together when there was a knock at the door. Early afternoon. It was time.

Having Rick inside her home again already set Judy’s teeth on edge. There was only so many times she could stand him patting Eddie on the back, insisting on how happy he was that Eddie was alive.

“I’m not used to this superhero shit, man. You know that.” He reiterated, laughing to himself, “but if it means ridding myself of my stash and starting over in a more legitimate product, I’d call it a win.” Rick paused at the silence, “What? It’s a joke! God, can’t tell jokes anymore with you kids. Always so serious.”

“Garage, by the way. I don’t want that acrid smell in my house.” Judy managed to say.

“No problem, boss.” He gave her a casual salute, gathering his supplies once more and leaving out the back door.

Eddie approached Judy, his claws running down her arms to cradle her from behind. His nose pressed against her ear. “Hey, it’ll be okay. I’ll be alright.”

“No, I’m supposed to be the one doing the reassuring.” She turned in his arms, bringing her hands to stroke his face, trailing her shaking fingers over the crags of his maw. “I just…”

He caressed her wrist, pressing his lips against her skin.

“I don’t want you to die. I can’t do that again. I can’t…” Her voice stopped, hiccupping into a panicked gasp. “Oh God.”

“It’s okay, Judy baby. If anything happens,”

“No.”

“Yes, you need to listen to me.” His hands grasped her by the sides of her face, forcing her to meet his yellowed gaze. “If anything happens, it’s not your fault. It was never your fault. I love you more than…” He shook his head, no words could express it. “It was always supposed to end like this.”

Judy’s eyes bubbled over with tears, completely obscuring her view. Her back teeth ached from the clenching, holding back any wail that wished to escape. “Please, Eddie.” She whimpered.

“You’re mine, buttercup. You always will be.” He brought her face to his, pressing his lips to hers. She gave way, accepting his kiss, his tongue, his reassuring smile. His hands finally released her cheeks and gripped any inch of her curves he could reach. Holding her as close as he possibly could, and adding another inch with each breath, her sobs finally quieted, dancing across her tongue to him. The more he kissed her, the more he could hide his sobs. Each gasp for air was simply that, a gasp. Every draw of her lips soothing his terror, and the taste of her tongue brought him bliss.

He finally spoke. “Or” they finally parted, “I’ll be perfectly fine, everything will go well, you’ll revive me, and we’ll move to Pennsyltucky,” another quick kiss on her nose, “and raise angora rabbits.”

Judy finally wiped her tears away, finally able to see Eddie clearly. His face was red and wet, a testament to his own sorrow. “Perfect.” She whispered.

“Misses and Mister Sondheim.”

“Still wanting my name, huh?” Judy asked, her face found its way to his. Her hooked nose to his cheek.

“Well, I’m not keeping this one.”

The walkie-talkie crackled awake, Robin’s voice rising above the static. “Bat-Daddy, what’s the status?”

“You gotta say over.”

“Over.”

“Bat-Daddy?” mouthed Judy.

Eddie wiggled his eyebrows, “you know it, crybaby.”

“Wait…. wait am I crybaby? Eddie do they call me crybaby?”’

He shrugged.

“Crybaby are you there? Over.” Dustin.

Her top lip twitched for a moment, snatching the walkie from the table and answering. “No crybaby here, but there are two bat parents. You may call me bat-mother, thank you.”

There was a pause before Dustin added, “You gotta say over. Over.”

“Over.”

“Okay, cool. What is your status bat…mother?”

Judy gave a definite nod, “Thank you. Asshole is cooking up what we need. He’ll get us when he’s ready. Then I’ll reach you during bedtime…over.”

“Let’s get you in a k-hole, big fella.” Rick said with a smile, poking his head around the storm door.

Eddie took Judy’s hand, pressing her knuckles to his lips. Then he made his way to the garage, Judy trailing behind.

“Shirt off, big guy. Judy, can you find his entry point? Below fourth rib.”

The two were surprised on his forward nature.

“You said you have emt training?” Rick continued.

“No…just first aid, who told you emt?”

Rick waved off the question, fixing a cap over the epinephrine shot. “Can you do an intracardial injection?”

“I know how, but I’ve never done it before.”

“Okay, cool.” He affixed the shot in the hard leather case, followed by the sound of zippers and clinks of metal. “Here.” Rick’s arms wrapped around her waist, the buckle of the fanny pack clicking into place. “So we don’t lose it. Now,” his attention shifted to a shirtless Eddie, finally getting to see his scars, “fuck bro they weren’t kidding. Uh…belly up on the floor.”

Judy watched Eddie follow the direction. She followed suit, her fingers probing his chest until she found the correct position. The sharpie in hand, she marked it with a heavy circle. “Like those tests say, fill the bubble heavy and dark.” Her hand shook as it drew the marker away, capping it.

“It’s gonna be okay, baby.” Eddie whispered.

She smiled, pursing her lips to blow air on to the mark.

“No babe…over a bit.”

“I’m not blowing on your nipple, you nasty boy.”

Eddie raised his brows again, biting his bottom lip. “Suit yourself.”

“I’ll literally do anything you want when this is over, and you live.” She let out another stream of air, moving her aim for one last puff, gracing over his dusky pink nipple and winking at him as it stiffened.

“You two done? As much as I dig the love, very cool, I do need to knock this boy out before he turns into Carrie or something.” Rick offered Eddie a little cup of pills, rattling off the concoction he had created, comprising of downers and a paralytic.

“Hearing a white guy say ‘dig’ will always be weird.” Judy muttered, watching Eddie sit up and take the cup from his hand. She turned away from both of them before Eddie’s free hand touched hers.

“I love you, buttercup.”

She pressed her lips into a line, swallowing back a sob. “Love you too.” One last squeeze of his hand before he let go, knocking back the pills, following it with a glass of watered-down vodka. Gently, Rick and Judy guided him to the back wall.

“My paladin.” She watched as the medication started to take effect, Eddie’s eyes slowly dulling, lids fluttering closed. Judy rose to her feet, taking the walkie from the table. “Bat-mother to cave, bat-daddy is down. Over.”

It's the homestretch now children. Thank you my friends for reading! See ya next weekend! Ps: don't worry mungrove babes, I got a fic for you in a future. Tag List: @loserboysandlithium @userchai @secretdryrose

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