#home inspection henderson | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

stervrucht · 6 months ago

Text

[AO3]

David Bowie plays on the radio and Steve drums his fingers along the steering wheel of his car as he contemplates. He is truly too good for this world. Now he is running errands for Dustin like some common soccer mom. The kid only had to give him one pout – one! – and Steve felt all his resistance crumbling. So, there he is on a Friday evening, seated in his still-running car in a Hawkin’s trailer park.

He stops his car in front of Eddie’s trailer and listens to the music as he gathers the willpower to leave the car.

Laughed at his long black hair, his animal grace, Bowie sings on the radio.

How fitting

Outside, dusk is setting in and the world colors purple. Closing up Family Video had taken longer than he anticipated due to a difficult customer who couldn’t decide between The Thing and The Nightmare on Elm Street and had asked Steve extensive questions to make up his mind.

Steve used to be fine with horror movies, but given recent developments (give or take his life the past few years), he isn’t into horror anymore. Out of the two, The Thing is probably the worst offender. Those crazy fleshy monsters hit a bit too close to home. Although, Freddie Krueger does have some vague Vecna vibes to him.

Steve is so lost in thought he doesn't notice the door of the trailer open until Eddie knocks on his window with his knuckle. With a jolt, Steve turns to roll his car window down. Once it is fully open, Eddie leans forward, his arms resting on the car.

“Sup Harrington.” Eddie’s hair falls forward and the low-cut tank top reveals his chest, framed by the silver chain of a guitar-pick necklace.

Shaved, Steve notes. Then, realizing he is staring, he tears his eyes away, coming face to face with Eddie Munson who gives him an amused look.

“Oh uh, right” – Steve coughs nervously – “Dustin asked me to give you this…” he unbuckles his seatbelt and leans over to the passenger seat where he grabs the cardboard box of some nerdy game.

“Here–” He hands the box to Eddie’s outstretched hands.

“Hell yeah, Talisman. Took Henderson long enough.” Eddie pushes himself away from the car and inspects the box for a moment. When he turns back to Steve, his eyes move towards the car radio.

“I didn’t take you for a Bowie fan.”

“Oh, I’m not really … Robin must have left it in. It’s … alright, I suppose.”

“And what type of music does Steve find more than alright?”

Eddie flashes him a cheeky smile and Steve finds himself somewhat intimidated. Whatever his answer, someone like Eddie will probably find it lame. Steve isn’t all that passionate about music anyway and mostly listens to whatever is on the radio.

“Maybe Queen, The Bee Gees…” he lists in no particular order.

Eddie tuts. “Such a proper boy.”

Although he expects it, Steve still winces.

“I should introduce you to some real music,” Eddie says thoughtfully, then – “Wanna come in?”

Steve takes a moment to think. His parents are out, so it isn’t like he’s expected at home. He has nothing to do tonight except watch some movies (perks of the job). Although the prospect of hanging out with Eddie doesn’t thrill him, it might be the more interesting option.

“Sure,” Steve turns his car off, rolls the window back up and opens the car door. Eddie takes a step back, giving Steve some room to get out.

Eddie’s eyes move to his chest and Steve realizes he is still wearing the stupid Family Video vest. He quickly takes it off, crumples it and unceremoniously throws it in his car before shutting the door again. With a quick turn of his key, the car is locked.

Steve follows Eddie towards the trailer. It is a warm summer’s night and the shadows of the trees grow long under the purple sky. The trailer park is surrounded by ample woods and fields from which the sound of crickets flares up.

“You coming?” Eddie waits for him at the door. Steve doesn’t realize he stopped moving and quickly makes his way to where Eddie is standing.

“After you, King Steve,” Eddie says, holding open the door with a dramatic bow.

Damn, Eddie is kind of annoying, isn’t he? No wonder Dustin gets on so well with him. Two peas in a pod. Steve lets out an unamused scoff.

Once inside, Steve stands in the middle of the…living room? Kitchen? He isn’t sure what to call such multifunctional rooms. He crosses his arms and shifts his weight from one leg to the other as he waits for Eddie to put the game away.

The main room is crowded and messy. It is the complete opposite of his parents’ living room, which is kept meticulously clean and organized – with the help of their cleaning lady of course. The coffee table is stained with water circles from mugs and the like. Something unthinkable to Steve. If he ever puts a glass down without a coaster, he will face his mother’s wrath.

“Beer?” Eddie calls from the kitchen. He already turned his back to him to make his way to the under-table fridge.

“Sure.”

Steve is getting sick of standing around and decides to move to the small beige sofa. It is littered with clothes and after a moment of hesitation, he shoves them aside and sits down.

“You’re fucking tense,” Eddie says as he hands Steve a can of beer. He looks down at the pile of clothes and without hesitation grabs them and throws them in a different corner of the room. Then he lets himself fall onto the sofa next to Steve, which objects with a loud creak.

The sofa really is quite small and granted, a bigger one probably wouldn’t fit. The middle of it sagged considerably too, dragging its occupants to the center.

Steve feels the warmth of Eddie’s jeans-clad legs against his own. They are probably sitting a bit too close and Steve shifts uncomfortably in his seat.

The can lets out an audible hiss as Eddie opens it and takes a quick sip from his beer. Then, he puts it down on the table and jumps up again.

“Fuck, I was gonna play you some music.” He hurries past the kitchen into a separate room.

Steve opens his own can – cheap store-brand beer – and takes a nervous gulp as he waits for Eddie to return.

He is starting to reconsider his choices this evening. Perhaps he should just have watched Back to the Future again. Instead, he is in the trailer of some guy he kinda-sorta knows because they have shared custody of some annoying kid (one of Steve’s best friends).

“Oh yes, this will be good.” Eddie re-emerges cradling a few cassettes in his arms like he is holding a baby. He squats in front of the coffee table and releases the collection of plastic cases on top of it. Steve eyes the contents, but he recognises none of it. Then he looks over at Eddie – the flesh of his knee peeks through the hole of his jeans and Steve wonders if Eddie made it himself or if it had naturally torn by use.

Eddie shifts through the cassettes with ring-clad fingers, picking a few up and turning them around to look at the back of the plastic cases.

“Let’s start with Rainbow,” he mumbles to himself, grabbing the cassette (a hand holding a rainbow over mountains on its front). He walks over to a small side table next to the front door where an old-school cassette player stands.

With a loud click, the front of the cassette player opens and Eddie puts the cassette in and closes it again. Immediately, music starts playing.

“Fuck, hold on.”

Eddie rushes over to the kitchen, rummaging through some drawers until he finds what he is looking for.

Victoriously, he holds up a pencil to Steve and clicks his tongue. Steve takes another gulp of his beer as he watches Eddie move through the trailer with a skip in his step. He is actually excited to let Steve hear his music. Steve feels strangely flattered and he lets himself fall back on the sofa.

The music stops and Eddie takes the cassette out. Using the back of the pencil, he rewinds the tape. Steve looks at Eddie’s hands as he works. The rings are kinda cool. Maybe he should let Robin pick out a ring for him too. Although perhaps not with skulls and crosses like Eddie wears. Maybe something more simple, like a signet ring or something.

Steve is pulled from his thoughts when he hears the cassette player click shut again.

“Your player doesn’t rewind?” Steve asks.

“Steve” – Eddie puts the pencil behind his ear and turns to look at him – “I live in a trailer…”

Steve feels heat rise to his cheeks.

Shit, sometimes he forgets his parents are very well off and some things are considered luxuries instead of the default. He made the same mistake with Robin too – multiple times – but it was hard to prevent. He thinks back on his car – not particularly expensive, but also not as beat-up as Jonathan’s. Does Eddie think he is some spoiled rich boy?

“Right, sorry.” Steve takes another mouthful of beer. Eddie turns around again to put the cassette in the cassette player.

A song begins to play, the sound reminds Steve of something alien – not really like music at all. Once the drums kicks in Eddie begins to bob his head on the beat, his hands hitting an invisible drum. He dances across the room, drumming his invisible drumsticks along the wall before falling back onto the sofa, stringing his fingers as if playing a guitar.

“Shit, I should really learn this on the guitar.” He leans forward to grab his can of beer. Condensation forms on the outside and when he picks it up, a wet circle is left on the table.

Eddie kicks his feet up, white sneakers hitting the wood of the coffee table and the cassettes rattle. He takes a deep swig of his beer and audibly sighs.

Steve leans forward, arms resting on his thighs and can between his knees. Once the music actually began, it wasn’t too bad. He didn’t understand the long intros though, and preferred it if music would just start.

“So, what do you think?” Eddie asks.

“Not bad.”

“Not bad” – Eddie scoffs – “You, my friend, have not been exposed to nearly enough good music.”

Steve chuckles. “I thought Bowie was pretty acceptable by –” he looks Eddie up and down demonstratively, “ – your kind.”

“My kind, huh?” a smile plays at the corners of Eddie’s lips. “And what would that be, exactly?”

Well, shit. Steve drove himself straight into possible-insult town. Eddie eyes him curiously, one elbow resting on the sofa’s backrest and his hands holding his can in a way Steve could only describe as cool.

“Well, you know…” he trails off.

“I know…?”

“Eh, metalheads, I guess?”

“Ziggy Stardust isn’t metal, you know that right?”

Steve sighs exasperatedly. “I know, ugh. I mean he’s–”

“Weird?” Eddie finishes.

Steve takes another gulp of beer, desperate to compose himself. “Yeah,” he answers lamely.

“I suppose he’s pretty weird, huh?” Eddie eyes the ceiling of the trailer while taking a lazy sip from his beer. “Did you know he used to be gay?”

Steve looks to Eddie, who is still eying the ceiling, head lying back against the sofa’s backrest.

“Used to be?” If Steve is to believe Robin, there is no ‘used to be ’ when it comes to being gay. You either are or you aren’t. Now he thinks about it, Bowie seems somewhat queer with his tight suits and styled hair, but that is what girls dig, isn't it? He has heard countless girls swoon over men just like that.

“You never had a gay phase, Harrington?”

Steve nearly drops his can.

“Gay….phase?”

“You know, live a little, try some shit, see what sticks –”

“I can’t say I have,” Steve mumbles, his eyes now firmly fixed on the can in his hands. He plays nervously with the lip, pulling it in tandem with the music before taking another sip.

“With a pretty face like yours, you might actually get some good ones.”

Steve chokes on his beer. Actually chokes, and he hits his chest with a fist to get himself to breathe again.

“W-what?”

“How can you know what you like when you never tried it?” Eddie sits up straight, pulling one leg to his chest as he turns to Steve. His dark eyes seem like a bottomless lake and Steve feels small under his gaze.

“H-have you?” Steve stutters and it is utterly embarrassing. Why is he so rattled by some stupid revelation?

Wait, did Eddie just call him pretty?

Eddie smirks at him like they are sharing in a secret, and perhaps they are.

“Fuck yes, if someone tells me not to do something you can bet your ass I will do it. Besides, humans are humans, big fucking deal.”

“So – was it a phase? In your case?” Steve asks carefully. He isn’t really sure why he asks. Maybe it is part curiosity. He never seriously considered relationships with men. Some are nice enough to look at, sure, but marriage, a house, children – that is only meant for a man and a woman right? A world in which someone just casually tries homosexuality seems…foreign.

“Hm, I guess so … Wow, don’t look at me like that Harrington. Are you disappointed?”

“W-what, no!” Steve really doesn’t know why he is getting so flustered. He suddenly feels self-conscious under Eddie’s piercing eyes and runs a hand through his hair – a nervous habit.

“Fuck, you are – well, alright, maybe for you I can arrange an encore.”

Before Steve has time to respond, Eddie pushes himself upright and leans one knee on the sofa between Steve’s legs. He feels the cold metal of Eddie’s rings under his chin as he lays a sprawled hand on his throat and tilts his head.

Steve freezes, air caught in his chest as Eddie leans over his face, his breath hot on his lips. Steve’s right hand uselessly holds on to the near-empty can – afraid to spill it – while his left hand digs into the sofa next to his thighs. Then, Eddie leans down, capturing his lips with practiced ease. Steve feels his long hair tickle his cheeks and the scruff of a five-o-clock shadow grace his chin.

Eddie’s lips move over his, slightly chapped and rough in a way that couldn’t possibly be a girl. Without meaning to, Steve feels his own lips move against Eddie’s.

Well, now he couldn't pretend it was just something happening to him. He had graduated to an active participant.

Kissing Eddie Munson. Eddie freaking Munson.

Robin was going to have a field day.

Perhaps the most surprising part is how he doesn’t hate it. He likes the feeling of stubble on his chin, the hard corners of Eddie’s jaw, the way Eddie pushes him back onto the sofa and he wills Steve’s mouth open with a sweep of a thumb and the cold metal of rings on his face. A hot tongue explores his mouth, stroking it against Steve’s in a way that makes him gasp.

Steve has never experienced anything like it. Usually with the girls he dated, he took the lead. Kisses were usually shy and timid. Eddie is completely different. He knows what he wants and he isn’t afraid to get it. Steve feels something stir in him as he presses back.

Eddie bites his bottom lip, taking it between his lips, and breaks away from him. Steve feels breathless and blinks up at Eddie. His hand reaches over to Steve’s right side, gently taking the can from his hand and setting it away on the coffee table. He turns back, eyes dark and Steve wills his mouth close as he regards him.

Was he gay? Shit, he doesn’t really want to think about it now. Humans are humans was what Eddie had said right?

Steve reaches out, sliding his hands behind Eddie’s neck, and pulls him back. Eddie moves himself into a more comfortable position, placing a knee on either side of Steve’s thighs and straddling him. Eddie’s hands reach for Steve’s temples, threading themselves through Steve’s hair – rings catch on the strands but Steve doesn’t mind the painful sting as it pulls. He just wants to get Eddie’s lips back on his – and so he does.

Their lips meet, fiery and hot. Open-mouthed Steve explores every corner of Eddie. He lowers his hands to Eddie’s back, playing on the edge of his tanktop and the hot skin underneath. If it works for girls, surely it works for guys too right?

He runs his hands up the side of Eddie’s chest, a thumb over a nipple, and Eddie gasps into his mouth. Steve feels heat settle in his crotch and he is glad he chose to wear jeans made of thick fabric rather than thin trousers. Steve’s hands move over Eddie’s chest, feeling the smooth muscle of it and the roughness of regrowing chest hair.

Eddie’s fingers reach the hair on the back of Steve’s head and yank it back, exposing Steve’s throat. He lets out a surprised yelp when he feels Eddie’s mouth latch to the delicate bow of his neck and suck.

Steve is learning a lot about himself in the span of less than an hour. The way Eddie tugs his hair, and has his way with him is sending a pleasant jolt straight to his cock. And Steve can’t help but moan under the ministrations of Eddie’s mouth as he sucks and bites.

“Y-you’re gonna leave a mark,” Steve breathes.

“That’s the plan,” Eddie mouths against his neck. Then, he licks his way up into Steve’s mouth again.

Shit, he is kinda into this. Steve isn’t sure how he could ever go back to girls now he knows what it feels like to be touched by calloused fingers and kissed with such force.

Eddie’s hand leaves his hair and travels down to the rim of his jeans, pulling out his shirt in the process. Steve feels the ghost of fingers running along its edge and the muscles in his stomach tense pleasantly in response.

Eddie breaks away from him, his breath ghosting over his lips as he searches Steve’s eyes.

“You wanna take this further?” Eddie asks, his eyes flitting over Steve’s face.

Steve feels drunk, even though half a can of beer isn’t nearly enough to even get him close to being buzzed. He is also turned on. Ridiculously so. But fuck, what does taking it further even mean in this context. Steve feels like a virgin all over again and shifts uncomfortably in his seat, trying to hide his arousal from Eddie.

Not that they are not actively engaged anymore, anxiety hits Steve like a bag of bricks.

“Uhh…” is all Steve manages to utter.

Eddie throws himself off Steve’s lap onto the empty spot next to him on the sofa. He puts his feet on the table again, hands behind his head.

“You’re right, maybe that’s enough for tonight.”

It doesn’t escape Steve that Eddie’s jeans look a little tighter than usual.

They sit in silence for a moment, only the voice of Rainbow’s singer cutting through the tension.

“I thought you said it was a phase,” Steve asks after he finally gets his breathing under control.

“Oh right, I should have clarified” – Eddie grins up at the ceiling – “The gay thing was a phase. I figured I was into both.”

Both? Wasn’t that something only hippies preached with their free love? Somewhere, Steve feels a wave of relief washes over him. He never seriously considered someone could like both. He has some serious soul-searching to do once he gets home.

“Huh,” is all Steve replies. Eddie’s eyebrow quirks in interest as he side-eyes Steve.

“I, uh…probably should get going.” Steve puts his hands on his thighs and pushes himself up. Eddie doesn’t move from his position, but his eyes follow him with interest.

“If you’re ever in the mood for a sequel, you know where to find me.”

Steve nods, because what else can you do in reply to such a comment? He is baffled at the ease with which the words escape Eddie. There is no shame or self-doubt.

As he lays his hand on the door handle, Steve looks back one final time. Eddie’s feet are bouncing in tandem with the beat of the drums and his eyes are closed. He looks so absolutely unshaken by their encounter that Steve feels almost jealous.

Steve is anything but unshaken.

“See you around,” he offers.

“See you, Harrington,” Eddie’s voice is playful, even though he doesn’t move.

When Steve is safe and sound in the driver’s seat of his car, he leans his head against the steering wheel and stays there for a moment.

What the hell just happened?

He turns his mirror to his neck and traces the hickey that Eddie left on his throat with a finger. He would have to ask Robin for some make-up to cover that up.

She is going to love this story.

Steve sighs and pushes the mirror back into its original position. When he starts the car, Bowie continues to sing like nothing happened.

Yes, he was alright, his song went on forever, Bowie sings and Steve groans as he hits the gas.

***

It is Saturday morning when Steve walks up to the Buckley residence. He passes the garden fence and walks around the house to the backdoor.

Hawkins was struck by the beginning of a heatwave and at this point, the temperature was bearable as long as one didn't move too much. The perfect day for a visit to the pool, but too hot for videos.

Which is why Steve is sure today won’t be too busy at Family Video. Fine by him.

The quiet days he works with Robin are always his favorite. Sometimes Henderson comes over – either with his friends or alone – and they mess around with the cardboard cut-outs or watch a movie on the little TV screen hanging from the ceiling. Steve has zero regrets about missing out on college. Everything he loves is right here in Hawkins.

He pulls at the red handkerchief around his neck. It is against company policy to wear scarves (and probably too hot too) but Steve needs something to cover up the damage of his little adventure with Eddie. At least, until he gets his hands on some skin paint stuff – or whatever girls call that type of make-up.

He enters through the backdoor straight into the kitchen, where he finds Robin’s mother clearing the table of breakfast plates. The room smells faintly like toast.

“Morning, Ms. Buckley!” he calls, already moving towards the hallway. Steve hears her respond, but he's halfway up the stairs by then.

“Rob!”

“Just a second!” Her voice is muffled. She opens her door, fixing an earring. Her eyes flick to his scarf before meeting his gaze.

“Geez, you’re early.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve walks straight past her and throws himself on her unmade bed. Robin pays him no mind and she walks over to her dresser again. From his spot on the bed, Steve can see Robin's face reflected in the mirror as she fusses with her hair. When she reaches for a pouch, Steve is suddenly reminded of why he is early to begin with.

“Do you have that face-stuff?” he asks as he sees Robin pull a pencil from the pouch.

“I’m afraid you’ll have to be more specific than ‘face stuff’.”

“You know, the skin-colored goo.” Steve makes motions over his face as if he’s painting.

“Concealer?” Robin’s mouth is open in concentration as she lines her waterline with black.

“That’s it!” Steve throws himself off the bed and walks over to Robin.

“Sure, I’ve got some,” Robin puts down her pencil and rummages through the pouch again. She pulls out a small beige bottle and holds it up for Steve. He reaches for it, but Robin pulls away.

“Does this have anything to do with your avant-garde fashion statement today?” She looks at his scarf again.

Steve laughs sheepishly and pulls his scarf aside. Robin’s eyes widen at the dark hickey on his neck.

“Jesus, Steve! It’s massive” – she leans in closer – “Was it Rebecca? Never thought she’d be the type...” Robin reaches for his neck but Steve pulls away.

“What? No!” – Steve lets go of the scarf – “I stopped seeing her like five weeks ago. Get with the times, Rob.”

“Well, sorry I can’t keep up with your busy love life.” Robin turns back to the mirror. She definitely isn’t sorry and Steve wouldn’t exactly call the origin of the hickey ‘love’. A lapse of judgment, maybe, or something uniquely in the corner of Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson.

“Can I get the stuff now?”

“Fine,” she says and she pushes the bottle in his hands.

***

Outside the car, the world passes in a flash of yellow fields. The windows are down and the scent of drying grass fills the air. Steve turns the music up to drown out the thundering sound of the wind as it enters the car and drums his fingers on the steering wheel while he uselessly mouths along with the music. He doesn’t know the lyrics, but that can’t stop him. The fact it annoys Robin when he does so makes it even more fun in his opinion.

“You’re in a good mood,” Robin remarks while she digs through her bag.

“It’s a beautiful day and I’m working with my best friend,” Steve chirps.

“Uhuh, right,” she replies skeptically. She puts her bag back between her legs on the car floor and fiddles with something in her hands.

Steve’s eyes are focused on the road before him when the music suddenly stops.

“Hey! I was listening to that!”

“I thought you said Bowie was ‘overrated trash’” Robin says while opening the case to another cassette.

“I didn’t,”

“You so did, and you called his pants too tight,”

“Whatever, driver decides,”

Robin sighs and pushes the cassette back in. “When I get my license, it will be Blondie all day every day. You better prepare yourself, dingus!”

Steve hums in satisfaction as the music comes back on. Maybe he found it somewhat grating in the beginning, but it was growing on him now. That, of course, had nothing to do with Eddie Munson.

“Did you know he used to be gay?” Steve suddenly says.

“Bisexual, Steve, and of course I know that. The question is, why do you?” From his periphery, he can see Robin staring at him.

“I just heard it somewhere,”

“Somewhere…” Robin repeated. She leans over to put the other cassette back in her bag.

Steve is relieved when he sees Family Video come into view. It’s not like Robin will forget their conversation, she is far too smart for that. And he really does plan on telling her about what happened yesterday, he just has to find the right moment. Hell, maybe it wouldn’t even be today.

Steve pulls into the parking space and hops out of the car. He locks his door and throws the keys over the car to Robin. She fumbles in her attempt to catch it and Steve is once again reminded that Robin is a band dweeb and not an athlete.

“Let’s open this baby up,” he says as he tosses the store keys into the air and catches them overhand.

“You’re such a show-off” – she walks past Steve into the store and continues without looking back – “For your information, there are no girls around…”

“Yet,” Steve finishes and Robin groans in response.

There wouldn’t be any girls around for most of the day as it turned out.

As Steve expected, it was a slow day. The only people who visited were those who probably wouldn’t be found dead sunbathing, nerds who never stepped outside (except to rent a video, apparently), and old people looking for something nice to watch with their grandkids.

Somewhere between the shelves, Robin is putting returned VHS tapes into their rightful place. Meanwhile, Steve sorts through new arrivals and adds them to the computer system. In the back of the shop, a guy has been staring at some science fiction movies for probably half an hour by now. Category basement nerd, Steve decides.

They had been working in relative solitude. Steve looks up as he hears the bell signal someone’s entrance. He is greeted with a curly head of hair.

“Henderson!” Steve stands up and throws himself over the counter. The secret handshake is a must and cannot be skipped.

Shake, box, Star Wars sword thing, guts.

Dustin smiles wildly at him.

Just as Steve is spilling his guts, the bell chimes again. He looks up, readying himself to apologize to the poor customer he has no doubt scared off with his wild gestures when he comes face to face with dark bottomless eyes.

“Munson,” Steve is probably gawking, at least a little and Eddie looks amused at the scene in front of him.

Dustin, oblivious to it all, immediately starts talking.

“I was just about to grab my bike when I ran into Eddie. He offered me a ride in his van. Mom’s at the pool today, says it’s too hot to stay indoors; she practically kicked me out of the house,”

“Right,” Steve wasn’t even looking at Dustin as he yapped on. He somehow couldn’t tear his eyes away from Eddie’s. It was strange seeing him in daylight now. The darkness of dusk had made their whole interaction the night prior seem like a dream. Now, face to face with Eddie, Steve was hit by the reality of what had transpired. He felt profoundly awkward.

“ – You should totally get a van, Steve!” Dustin’s voice pulls Steve from his thoughts and he tears his eyes away.

“Y-yeah, probably not. I like my car,” he composed himself, deciding to focus his attention on Dustin rather than Eddie.

“Hey Dustin” – Robin walks from behind the shelves, carrying a now-empty crate. Her eyes land on Eddie with a hint of surprise – “Hey Eddie,”

“Got anything good yet?” Dustin asks Robin eagerly.

“You’re in luck–” Robin says as she puts the crate away, “We just added The Dark Crystal to our collection,”

“Sweet!” He hears Dustin call when Robin leads him away to one of the shelves in the back.

Steve is left alone with Eddie and doesn’t know how to compose himself. A part of him feels nervous under Eddie’s dark gaze.

Eddie walks over to the counter and leans against it.

“Cool gig,” Eddie says as he looks around the store. “Do you ever get to keep the cardboard cut-outs?” Eddie points his finger at a life-size cut-out of Indiana Jones that stands proudly at the front of the store. Steve’s eyes involuntary drift back to his fingers again and he really ought to stop that. Sooner or later, Eddie will catch him staring.

“I don’t, but Keith does sometimes,”

“Sweet,”

A silence falls between them and Eddie kicks his feet. The guy in the back still hasn’t made up his mind and a little distance away Dustin is eagerly explaining something about the ‘Gelflings’ to Robin.

“Hey, uh, are you doing anything next Friday?” Eddie asks suddenly.

“Nothing yet,” Steve is desperately trying to stop his heart from beating at such an insistent pace and he hopes his voice comes out as nonchalant as he intends it to.

“You wanna…I don’t know…hang out or something?”

‘ Or something’. What does ‘or something’ mean ?

“Yeah, I– …yeah, sure” Steve fumbles a bit, but Eddie doesn’t seem to notice, or maybe he doesn’t care. A smile grows on his face.

“Cool,” Eddie says.

He pushes himself away from the counter and walks up to a shelf to inspect some of the movies. He leans forward, shifting his weight to the balls of his feet, and hums a song that sounds vaguely familiar. Steve stares at the interlaced fingers behind his back – adorned with silver rings – and shivers at the memory of their coolness against his neck.

“Cool,” Steve echoes.

***

The whole week, Steve had thought of countless excuses to cancel hanging out with Eddie on Friday, but in the end, none of them carried any weight. He couldn’t get Eddie of his freaking mind and the sappy romance movies that played on the television screen at work didn’t help either.

Eddie had visited Family Video again – once – with Dustin to return a movie. Apparently, they regularly hung out when Steve was busy at work and he felt something akin to jealousy. He had always been Dustin’s role model. Heck, the kid even started wearing his hair like him (thank you, Farrah Fawcett). That was until Eddie somehow inserted himself into the equation. Now, Dustin had grown out his hair and was wearing that ridiculous Hellfire shirt religiously; so often, Steve sometimes wondered if it was ever washed at all.

Eddie had corrupted him, and maybe he had corrupted Steve a little bit as well.

“You seem nervous,” Robin remarks as she flips through a folder, biting in the back of a ballpen.

“Well, I’m no–” Before Steve can finish his sentence, Robin continues.

“I haven’t heard you talk about your dates the whole week. Whoever gave you that ridiculous hickey has some serious hold over you –”

Steve feels his shoulders tense. The idea of Eddie having any kind of hold over him was crazy. Steve is cool, Steve is casual. Steve is definitely not nervous about his casual hangout with Eddie tonight.

“ –It’s Friday, aren’t you supposed to be on like three different dates tonight?” she continues.

“Uhm, well–”

“And you’ve been acting weird all week. Things are adding up to a very weird sum. The ‘buying thirty watermelons’ kind of weird sum.”

“You have such a way with words,” Steve rolls his eyes as he finally regains his composure.

“Steve!” Robin throws her pen at his head. He ducks, but the pen hits him anyway.

“Robin!” he mimics her tone.

“It’s someone’s mom, isn’t it? God, Steve–” Robin pulls a face in disgust.

“It’s not someone’s mom! Geez, Rob, what kind of person do you take me for?”

“The kind that acts all mysterious and weird, and suddenly listens to music he hates!”

Maybe going out of his way to buy a Rainbow cassette had been somewhat uncharacteristic. Of course, Robin would pick up on that.

“A guy can expand his tastes…” he trails, hit by the ambiguity of his statement.

Robin sighs, picks up her pen from the floor and gives him an irritated glance.

Steve hears the bell chime just as he closes the door to the vault in which they store cash overnight. It is only a couple of minutes before closing time and Steve grunts audibly as he raises himself into a standing position. Entering a shop this close to closing time is a certified dick move and Steve is not above sending whoever entered away, customer service be damned.

“We’re closed!” he yells as he walks back into the shop from the backroom.

“Eddie’s here for you,” Robin calls without looking back at Steve.

Sure enough, Eddie is standing at the counter. He is wearing a tank top and his hair is pulled up into a messy bun; his skin gleams with sweat from the heat outside and around his neck hangs a wiry set of headphones. Wind from the air conditioner pulls at his hair. When their eyes meet, a smile creeps on his face.

“Sup, Harrington…I’ve brought the van.” He holds the keys up demonstratively, dangling them from his index finger.

"He brought the van!" Robin exclaims looking back at Steve, her eyebrows raised and a sly smile playing on her lips. Steve can almost see the moment of realization dawn upon her as if a lightbulb had been switched on in her mind.

Steve scratches the back of his head. “I promised Robin a ride back–”

“No problem, We’ll drop her off. I’ll bring you back to pick up your car later.”

Steve casts Robin a quick glance and she shrugs in response.

“If Robin’s fine with it…” he trails.

“A van,” Robin whispers as Steve joins her at the counter and elbows him in his arm.

Steve rolls his eyes at her, but still can’t fight the smile that tugs at the corners of his mouth.

***

Twigs crack under Steve’s shoes as he follows Eddie through the forest. The canopy of the trees offers ample shadow and Steve finds the heat more bearable here than when they had been walking alongside the road. Still, his shirt clings to his back and sweat is slicking his hair as Steve runs a hand through it.

When Eddie asked him to hang out, he didn’t expect they would be hiking through the forest behind the trailer park during a freaking heatwave.

He looks over to Eddie. His bangs cling to his forehead and the veins on his arms are thick as his body fights to keep cool. Despite the oppressive heat, there's a glint of excitement in Eddie's eyes.

“There it is.” Eddie stops and looks somewhere in the distance. Steve squints and follows Eddie’s gaze. Between the trees, he can see the shimmer of water, and he realizes Eddie has taken them to Lover’s lake.

When they near the water, Eddie ups his pace, stepping around some of the bigger rocks and boulders near the lake’s edge like he has done it a thousand times before. Steve tries to keep up, but his unfamiliarity with the landscape slows him down.

At last, he is standing on the pebbled lakeside. The sun is already lowering itself into the embrace of dusk and Steve thinks they have maybe two hours of light left before sundown. He looks to his right where he sees Eddie standing above a pile of wood. When he gets closer, Steve realizes it is actually an old stranded fisher’s boat.

“Pretty cool, huh?” Eddie remarks.

Steve looks the boat over. It’s medium sized and some of its wood has rotted away. A good portion of it is covered in graffiti, and half of it sits in the water. It has probably been there for years.

“You bring all your conquests here?” Steve asks as he watches Eddie climb onto the boat. The question is mostly meant to be lighthearted, yet he feels a sense of anticipation as he waits for Eddie to reach the deck.

Eddie squats and looks down on him. “Nah, just you.”

Somehow, those words make Steve’s heart flutter and his cheeks heat up. He quickly looks away, pretending to search for footing to scale the boat.

When Steve reaches the deck, Eddie is sitting cross-legged facing the lake.

“This is a nice place,” Steve says, sitting next to Eddie. He lets his feet dangle from the side and follows Eddie’s gaze. Across the lake, some people linger, cooling down before heading back to their hot homes. Some children are playing in the shallows and their joyful screams carry over the water.

“Your work?” Steve asks as he gestures to some of the writing on the boat. The wood is covered in crude phrases, names, and dates – some of them are carved, but most look to be written with a sharpie.

“Some of it is.” Eddie pulls out a pocket knife from his jeans and hands it to Steve. “You can add to it if you want.”

Steve turns the knife in his hand. It is a classic red Swiss knife and it lays heavy in his hand.

“Here–” Eddie twists around and Steve follows suit. Eddie’s fingers are tracing the wood behind them, running them over the carvings in the wood. “– I think I did this about a year ago.”

Eddie removes his hands and Steve can finally get a good look. It’s nothing crazy, just a simple ‘Eddie was here’ carved in crude scratches – eternalised in some rotting wood in a town no one cares about.

Eddie holds up his hand to Steve and he realizes he is asking for his knife back. Steve hands it over.

Eddie flips out the knife and bends himself over the carving. Steve turns back around, looking over the lake again as the sound of scratching fills his ears.

“All done!” Eddie says after a while.

When Steve turns back, he sees his name freshly carved into the wood, right above Eddie’s original carving.

Steve + Eddie was here

“You wanted to immortalize this?” Steve asks amused.

Eddie flips the knife closed again and shoves it into his pocket. “A year ago, I’d never thought I’d be sitting here with Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington. Guess that’s pretty fucking special.” Eddie casts him a toothy grin.

Steve had to agree though. If someone had told him a year ago he would be hanging out with Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson on a Friday evening – rather than spend his night on a date or at a party – he would have declared them crazy.

“I suppose so,” Steve replies.

All is quiet for a moment, save the sound of leaves rustling by a welcome breeze. Steve closes his eyes as the wind kisses his sweaty skin.

“I got you something,” Eddie says, breaking the silence and he stands up. Steve’s gaze follows him and his eyes widen when he sees Eddie move his hands over his head to pull his tank top off.

“But let's take a dip first…it’s hot as balls.” He throws the sweaty tank top at Steve, who slaps it out of the air before it can hit him. The fabric lands heavily on the wooden deck.

“I didn’t bring my trunks,”

“You don’t need those here.” Eddie gives him a knowing smile as he kicks on his shoes.

Eddie is lean and he has a nice back, Steve thinks. Not particularly broad like some of his former teammates on the swimming team, but not bad for a guy who spends his time playing board games. His torso is littered with fading scars from the Upside Down and Steve has a fair amount of those himself.

“Get on with it, Harrington!” Eddie is already stripped to his underwear when Steve tears his eyes away and finally tugs his own shirt over his head.

A dip in the lake was a fantastic idea and Steve felt himself relax now that he was slowly but surely cooling down to more humane temperatures.

Steve tries to keep his eyes away from Eddie as they make their way back to the boat. The fabric of his boxers is clinging to his skin.

Eddie lays himself down on the deck, using his jeans as a pillow while he fiddles with his headphones.

“C’mere Steve.” Eddie pats the space next to him and Steve reluctantly seats himself. Eddie is working the buttons of a walkman.

“Remember when I said I got you something?”

“That was like twenty minutes ago,” Steve feels borderline offended at the implication.

Eddie gestures for Steve to lay down as well and Steve complies begrudgingly, resting his head next to Eddie’s on his crumpled jeans while he stares up at the blue sky. He feels exposed in just his boxers and now Eddie wants them to lay side by side.

“Here.” Eddie hands him one half of the headphones while holding the other side to his own ears. Suddenly it dawns on Steve why they’re lying as they are. Eddie wants to let him listen to music. Steve moves half of the headphones to his ear and sure enough music starts playing.

“I put some things together I thought you might like.” Steve can see Eddie turn his head towards him from his periphery and study his face.

“You made me a mixtape?” Steve asks. The idea of Eddie putting together a mixtape for him was…well, really thoughtful.

“Now you say it out loud it sounds kinda lame,” Eddie laughs.

“No, it– it’s really nice.” Steve offers.

He closes his eyes and listens to the unfamiliar tunes. Eddie did quite a good job at picking music that he might like. It is definitely less intense than Rainbow – the voices are less shrill, the guitar less cutting, and the drums beat at a lower frequency. It’s nice, ridiculously nice, and Steve can’t think of an instance when someone has ever taken the time to put something together for him like this – not even his ex-girlfriends.

They lay there for a while, each holding one end of the headphone. The people on the other side of the lake must have left by now because the only things Steve can hear are birdsong, the sound of rustling leaves, and the music that comes from the walkman. The breeze feels cool against his damp body, and he wonders why he had never done this before – stay at the lake until the sun went down.

Steve can almost feel himself drift asleep when Eddie nudges him.

“Steve.” Eddie shakes him gently by his shoulder.

“Hm, lemme be…” he whines without opening his eyes.

“You’re gonna be mosquito food.” Beside him, he hears Eddie getting up and when Steve finally opens his eyes, Eddie is already wearing his tank top.

Steve hadn’t realized how long they had laid there. Only a small line of sun was visible in the distance and Eddie’s figure was dark against the pastel sky.

“I’m afraid I’m gonna need my pants,” Eddie says as he points at Steve’s head.

“Oh right.” Steve finally sits up, handing Eddie the makeshift pillow of his jeans.

Once they’re both dressed, Eddie leads them back through the forest. The sky is pink and the trees form black outlines against it. Steve walks after Eddie, who points out when to be mindful of a hidden boulder or a sudden dip in the forest floor.

They take Eddie’s van back to Family Video so Steve can get his car. The whole car ride, Steve can’t help the feeling of nervousness that sits in his stomach.

Today kinda felt like a date.

Normally he would be on the other end of it – driving a girl home after a movie or something. And then, once he stops the car in front of her house, the girl would fidget and Steve would place his arm on the back of her car seat, confident and reassuring. He would tell her he had a good time and if she did as well, he would seal the deal with a kiss.

But this was Eddie, and they had been just two guys hanging out.

Two guys that had made out a week ago.

But that didn’t mean anything. It had just been Steve’s one-day gay phase and he got it out of his system now, hadn’t he? Eddie had only offered out of a misunderstanding, or maybe some weird kindness.

Shit, this train of thought was not helping Steve whatsoever. If anything, it had just made the nervous flutter in his stomach worse.

Eddie stops the van and the red neon light of Family Video plays with the curves of his face.

“There we are.” Eddie pushes himself back into his seat with his arms stretched on the steering wheel. Steve makes no movement to get out. They sit in silence for a while.

“About last week–” Steve starts. If he doesn’t acknowledge it now, he feels like he might go crazy. Besides, he doesn’t know when or if they’ll have another moment alone.

“Don’t worry, I didn’t tell anyone. We can forget about it if you want…” Eddie says without looking at him. His shoulders are tense and his grip on the steering wheels seems to harden.

“No…it’s not–” Steve tries, but Eddie cuts him off.

“Don’t worry Steve, I get it. I know what people say about me –”

“But–”

“ –and it doesn’t have to mean anything. People make out all the time–”

Steve unbuckles his seatbelt. He’s kind of sick of Eddie not letting him finish his sentences and is ready to return the favor.

He leans over, turning Eddie’s head towards him and kisses him. Hard.

Eddie’s mouth is parted, mid-sentence, and Steve feels teeth beneath his lips. By all accounts, it’s a shoddy kiss – not his best work – but it seems to do the trick.

Eddie loses his grip on the steering wheel, hands moving to Steve’s shoulders instead as he eagerly returns the sentiment.

“Fuck, Harrington, aren’t you full of surprises,” Eddie breaths against his lips.

Steve leans back into his chair and runs a hand through his hair.

“You talk too much,” he says as he opens the door of the van.

By the time he hears Eddie get out of his van, Steve is already opening the door to his BMW.

“Wait, Steve,” Eddie calls as he jogs over. When he’s standing in front of Steve, he pulls at Steve’s arm, running his hand down and urging Steve’s palm up. He shoves something square in his hand and closes Steve’s fingers around it.

“Next Friday, same time?” Eddie asks him, searching his eyes.

Steve nods silently. He stares after Eddie as he walks back to his van. He opens the door and turns one last time, giving Steve a two-fingered salute before getting in.

Steve hears the sound of the motor swinging on and looks at his hand. In the dim neon light, he stares down at a small cassette. Steve can hardly read the black letters in the red light, but he realizes Eddie has written something on its white label.

From Freak, to Hair.

[AO3]

#steddie fanfic #steddie fanfiction #steve x eddie #steddie fic #steddie #my fics #ster writes steddie

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milf-harrington · 2 years ago

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hi i wrote a short little something inspired by this post bc it wouldn't leave my head

season 2 canon divergence, in the aftermath of Steve being taken in by Hopper (don't ask me why it's happened, bc i dont know it's just how the story took shape in my head)

Steve was pulling a pizza out of the oven when El drifted into the kitchen, bumping hear head against his arm like one of the Henderson's cats. Her hair was starting to curl at the ends, longer than when he'd met her.

"Can you please tell Hop to go to the store? We are out of Eggo's."

She was already holding the walkie when he turned to give her a look, eyes wide and quietly expectant in that intense way of hers. He rolled his eyes, sucking pizza sauce off his knuckle as he reached for the walkie.

They had a quiet stare-off as he held the button down.

"Hey Hop, you there? Over."

Soft static buzzed through the speaker as El leaned further into him, turning her gaze away to inspect the pizza, before Hopper's voice came through with a crackle.

"I'm working." A pause, and then a reluctant: "Over."

He and Hopper shared a similar opinion on walkie-talkie etiquette, but the kids were insistent so they did their best. El looked from the walkie and back to Steve without blinking. He sighed a short laugh. Pressed the button again.

"Jane needs you to go to the store. Over." Better to use her other name if he was working.

"Eggo's?"

"Eggo's."

Satisfied that her demand request had been passed on, El slipped out of the kitchen and plopped down in front of the tv, crossing her legs underneath her as the screen flickered to life. The remote remained untouched on the bench. She wiped her nose with her sleeve.

"Well, I currently have an 18 year old in the back of my car and I'll have to run him to the station first." Another pause. "-ucks sake, over."

The words fell out of his mouth without any real thought, a years worth of comfort in himself dissolving any filter he might've had. "Is he cute?"

The walkie crackled. Steve wanted to smack himself in the head with it.

"My son wants to know if you're cute."

Oh, he was going to kill him, even if he did feel warm and fuzzy over being called Hops' son.

"Uh, I want to say yes, sir?"

There was a second of loud laughter before the walkie cut off and Steve pressed it to his forehead in silent mortification. From the living area, canned laughter from Happy Days burst out of the speakers like the universe was mocking him.

When he looked up, El was smiling at the screen in bemused wonder, colours flashing across her face.

He cleared his throat, eyes shut as he held down the button again. "Please remember the Eggo's on your way home, we're having pizza. Over and out."

He pressed the antenna down for his own dramatics, before quickly pulling it back out again so he could be reached for emergencies.

It wasn't that big a deal, it's not like he'd ever actually meet whoever had been in the car.

#eddie in the back of the cop car: 'yknow you're meant to say 'over' when you're done talking-'#i might add more to this later bc i had another idea while i was writing but idk #technically this is steddie but idk if i wanna tag it that way bc eddie is BARELY mentioned and it's not even by name #but this is steddie #so #steddie #steve harrington #my writing #stranger things ficlet

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samthestrangerthingsfan · 9 months ago

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Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: frienemies-to-lovers, kinda mean!Eddie? shy!reader, swearing, a lil smoochin', mentions of lack of confidence and poor self image, cute nicknames

a/n: hi bb, will you be my valentine? I don't love writing mean!eddie but its okay because we can always fix him :)

Valentine’s Day.

A day which the Hawkins High elite are positively buzzing over the plethora of cheap red and pink decorations.

Cheerleaders swoon over poorly constructed cards from their popular boyfriends, while dozens of obnoxious mylar balloons take up way too much space in the already crowded hallways.

Beyond the 14th of February, the reason for all the excitement was the annual Hawkins High Valentine’s Day dance—of which you were head of the committee.

Was it because you were the only Senior to volunteer their time to coordinating it instead of attending it? Maybe, but at least it gave you a reason to show up to the dance without a date.

...and avoid looking like the pitiful wallflower you are.

You also knew you’d have no time to rush home and get ready after your last class, so here you are. Standing outside of the AV Club door, decked out in your new crushed-velvet dress. It's ruby red and dangerously short.

This was definitely out of your comfort zone. You typically preferred to be invisible. It’s easier that way; no one can hurt what they can’t see. Right?

But when this dress caught your eye in the mall shop window, it was the first time you could ever remember wanting to be seen. Wanting to try to look like the pretty girls who walk the halls everyday vying for the attention of others.

The dance gave you the perfect excuse. Sure, it’s not like you had a date or anyone asking you to go, but you felt so beautiful. The way the dress hugged your body made all the staring and whispering as you walked down the hallway so, so worth it.

“Hey—whoa…” Dustin’s voice dropped when he walked around the corner, arms full of equipment. “Y-you look fantastic!” He said proudly.

Dustin was your favorite Freshmen, always kind and happy to see you.

“Aw, thanks Dusty! You don’t think it’s too much?” You lifted your boot, inspecting it falsely.

Dustin smiled, “It’s too much for 6th period Spanish, but not for Valentine’s Day that’s for sure.”

He unlocked the door, and held it for you.

Dusting grabbed a pen and paper to write down what you’d need the AV Club’s help with after school.

With hands on your hips, you looked around the room. “Okay, so I definitely need the projector, and if you could set it up before—“

An annoying, loud, cocky voice cut you off. “Henderson! What the hell is takin’ you so long?”

Eddie fucking Munson.

You watched as he sauntered into the room, DIO jacket and all. He clapped Dustin on the shoulders before turning his gaze to you.

“Holy shit. That you, Mouse?”

Mouse. A nickname you loathed.

You’d made the mistake of sitting at the Hellfire table your Freshman year, and he’s never let let you live it down. Once Eddie saw just how shy you were, he made it his mission to get under your skin.

He'd plopped down into the seat next to you, assuming you were there to cause him and the guys trouble. “New girl’s trying to get in good with the freaks, hm?”

You jumped and began to frantically pack your belongings, “I-I…I didn’t know. I’m sorry, I’ll just go—"

When he realized you were nervous, he changed his tone. No longer was he on edge, but rather trying to make you laugh. Show you it's okay to give him a taste of his own medicine. “No no, little mouse. You’re not scurrying away that easily.”

Four years later, you’re both still here and Eddie’s been a thorn in your side ever since. You thought you'd be rid of him once he graduated, but he flunked--twice. Condemning you to another year full of his nonsense.

His obnoxious, overly-confident, doe-eyed nonsense.

“Munson.” You couldn’t help the eye roll. “Dustin and I are working on something so,” you flicked your hand toward the door. “Skedaddle.”

“Oof,” he teased. “You kiss your mother with that potty mouth?”

Eddie walked past Dustin, hands on his hips as he took you in. “Why, may I ask, are you dressed so fancy, princess? Hot date with a frog?”

Okay, guess we’re playing this game.

“The only frog I know is you, Munson.”

His hand flew to his heart. “You hear this, Henderson? Who knew Mouse could be such a brat?”

“If you’ll excuse me,” you attempt to sidestep him, but he blocks your path. Big brown eyes watching your every move. “Don’t you have anything better to do than push my buttons?” It’s a pitiful gripe. You know he enjoys this far too much.

“C’mon, sweetheart. If I didn’t talk to you, who the hell would?”

Ouch.

Something no doubt said in jest, but it hurt to realize just how right he was. You had tons of acquaintances, and you got along great with the teachers. As for friends, the well's a bit dry in that department.

You cleared away the tightness in you throat. “Yeah, I don’t have time for this. I’m actually contributing to society. How about you?” Your face was twisted into a sarcastic smile, attempting to hide the hurt.

Eddie on the other hand thought the two of you were simply playing your favorite game. Seeing just how flustered he could make you before you gave him a taste of his own medicine.

“Yeah, you’re a real Nancy Reagan.” He laughed, gesturing to your dress.

Your eyes honed in on him. “What the hell does that mean?”

“It means,” he reached out, sweeping a piece of hair off of your cheek. “If you wanted a little attention, you didn’t have to do all this.”

This.

Said as if the word tasted rotten. Disgusted by what you’d considered to be you at your most beautiful.

I must look like a fucking fool.

The stinging in your eyes got stronger every second you stood in his presence. Your gaze locked onto the floor, following your feet as you left. “Bye, Dustin. I’ll see you later.”

Dustin protested, calling you back before turning his disappointed glare to Eddie.

“Dude…” he chided.

Eddie scoffed, “What? Henderson I was joking—she knows that, okay? That’s our whole thing.”

"Eddie, she was crying!"

Were you? No, no way. This is what the two of you do.

"No, she wasn't." He said unconvincingly. "You don't know her like I do, little buddy. She's a good girl, loves the cat-and-mouse of it all." Eddie wasn't sure if he was trying to convince himself or Dustin.

Eddie had a fuck of a time in O'Donnell's class, and now on top of all of that, he's late to set up Hellfire.

He moved a bit quicker down the hall, easy enough since most of the school left to get ready for the Desperate Dance. He intentionally always schedules DND on nights like this, that way he'd never have to be caught dead--

Eddie's stopped in his tracks at the sight of the trashcan at the end of the hall. He spots a familiar piece of red fabric hanging out of the bin.

He pulled it like a magician, revealing more and more of the velvet clothing until its fully removed,

A dress.

Your dress.

Why the fuck did you throw it in the trash? You we're the most confident Eddie had ever seen you while you wore this thing.

...and you looked drop dead gorgeous, but that's beside the point.

He heard your voice coming from the gym, and abandoned all thoughts of DND.

Eddie burst through the double doors, ignoring the frilly pink and red decorations for the dance. He weaved between the underclassmen carefully setting up the tables and backdrops to make his way over to you.

You, who now instead of being in your beautiful fucking dress, are in you school-supplied gym uniform. Your hair was pulled back, no longer falling in the perfectly natural way you had it earlier. Your makeup was gone--Eddie didn't mind that, he didn't think you needed it anyway.

But you'd never looked so small to him.

He called your name more gently than you've ever heard him speak. When you turned and saw your dress in his grip, you wanted to disappear.

Had he come to gloat?

"Why the hell was this in the trash?" he's not smirking, or sarcastic when he says it.

"Didn't like it." It's all the pain in your throat will let you get out.

You walk away from him, hurrying to find something else to do beside stand there and be made fun of by Eddie Munson.

"Bullshit," he calls after you, quick on your heels. "You don't wear a dress like this and look the way you look in it and just decide you don't like it."

You could feel the tears returning as soon as you stopped walking. "I don't know what you wanna hear," your back was to Eddie, but you felt his gaze regardless. "I just didn't like it...anymore, okay?"

The fake organization of the ribbons in front of you didn't deter him, he remained behind you in silence until he couldn't take it anymore.

"Did...did I say something? Earlier, in the AV Club." He spoke so softly, and with such sincerity, you'd never know it was Eddie talking to you.

You sniffled, angry at yourself for letting him hear how upset you were. "I don't know what you mean."

"Henderson," He's quick on your heels. "Henderson said you were crying when you left."

You don't--can't say anything. Trying desperately to will the tightness in your throat to go away and the tears to dry before they fall from your eyes. A small, shaking breath passes your lips.

"Please look at me, Mouse." His voice is hushed when he calls out to you.

You turn to him begrudgingly. Hoping if he saw the mess he made he'd leave well enough alone.

But when he sees your face, with red eyes and damp tear-stained cheeks, his heart falls into his stomach.

"Oh, oh sweetheart--"

You beat him to it. "I'm fine, Munson. Just...just give me the stupid thing, okay? I'm better off invisible, anyway."

"You've never been invisible to me." Eddie hands you the dress, and watches as you wring it between your hands. "I'm sorry, Mouse."

You scoff, "You didn't--"

"Yes I did," He says firmly. Eddie steps into you, closer than he's been before. "I made an asinine comment thinking we were playing our little game, but it's not a game if someone gets hurt, especially you."

Eddie swipes away the tear on your cheek with the pad of his thumb. "You looked beautiful. You're always beautiful, but that dress? Honey, I couldn't think straight. I'm a dumbass half the time, but I turned into a god damned Neanderthal when I saw you in that."

Your brain couldn't process what was happening. It almost sounded like Eddie...liked you?

"I thought," You looked down, embarrassed to even say it out loud. "I finally felt pretty, pretty enough to be seen and not just in the background."

Eddie's brow softens at your words, "Mouse, I see you. You're one of the only things I look for throughout the day. Always lookin' out for the pretty shy girl with the smile that makes me go weak in the knees."

You laugh at that. "I guess I always look for the obnoxious metal head that's way too good at getting under my skin."

Eddie chest rumbles with a laugh, too. "You're too good at calling me on my crap, what do you expect me to do?"

A comfortable silence falls between the two of you, and it has Eddie clearing his throat. "Can--can I give you a hug? Hate that I made my favorite girl cry."

The smile on your face speaks volumes, but you nod anyway.

When you're wrapped in Eddie's arms, his warmth seeps through your bones, relieving any tension or nerves. His scent invades your senses, warming your belly and heart. You melt into him completely.

Eddie can't believe how well you fit in his arms, like a damn puzzle piece if you asked him. He smells you shampoo, and memorizes the fragrance, filing it away in his mind as his new favorite smell.

When you pull back, he leans his forehead on yours. "I'm sorry I hurt you. I really am."

You nod, moving his head a bit as it rests on yours. "I know."

Eddie steps away, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Ya know, uh, if you're not busy, I'm running a DND campaign tonight. I'd love it if you sat in and maybe after...I don't know, maybe I could take you to Benny's?"

You smirked, eyes narrowing at him. "You asking me out, Munson?"

His eyes widened in sheer panic, "Oh--oh my God, I read this all wrong, huh? Please just forget--"

You're quick to ease his worry. "I'd love too."

Putting the dress on the table, you offer Eddie your hand. "Show me the way, Dungeon Master."

He takes it eagerly, but doesn't walk anywhere yet.

"Eddie?" You giggle.

"One second, princess. Damn knees turned to jelly again."

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson

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stevie-petey · 1 year ago

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episode two: the weirdo on maple street

Trying to ease the awkwardness, you hold up a poster and offer it to them, but Steve snatches it from your grasp. “Henderson, didn’t know you were also a little know-it-all. Why don’t you share your review sheet with the rest of us?” He says, casting a teasing look your way. It isn’t until he inspects the piece of paper that he finally notices that it’s a missing poster for a child, not a review sheet. “Oh, shit. I’m so sorry.” You snatch the poster back from him. “You’re an idiot, Steve Harrington.”

summary: you use your limited psych knowledge to help a bald girl, you force jonathan to accept $20 and he's later an ass to you, steve doesn't know what a "missing" poster looks like, and it's really hard being a single mother to now four kids.

rating: general, but there's cursing as usual and steve being... well, steve - but hes still season 1 steve so give him some time

warnings: cursing, fem!reader, use of y/n, and there's more angst in this chapter with some fighting between reader and jonathan, so fair warning.

words: 10.1k (the longest thing ive ever written)

before you swing in: i'm almost done with chapter 4, so here's a sweet treat as i cram for exams lmao. some housekeeping: should i do a tag list ? i got a few questions about it, so pls let me know soldiers. also, i feel the need to clarify that i adore nancy but for plot reasons - reader and her don't really get along (but they def will later, trust me). season 1 nancy and steve are just so silly. anyways, i hope y'all enjoy this loooong chapter. the rest definitely aren't as lengthy due to plot, but wow. i amazed myself. carry on !

Your jeans drip onto the Wheeler’s carpet, and you’ve definitely left a wet imprint on the couch cushion beneath you. The other boys are dripping as well, but all their attention is on the girl in front of them.

After finding her in the woods, your motherly instincts kicked in, immediately removing your coat to place on her and gently ushering her to your bike and demanding that the boys go back to Mike’s. Your mom is home, so your house was out of the question, and it’s always been easy sneaking into the Wheeler’s, anyways.

Once you all had made it back, you guided the girl onto the couch and sat next to her. You refuse to let her go too far from you, having no idea where she came from or why, but regardless you know she’s too young for any of it to have been good.

Which leads you to now: wearily watching the boys stare at the girl as if she’s some science experiment, asking her a million questions a second.

Bless them and their little prepubescent minds.

Lucas reaches out to touch her, and before you can nudge him away, Mike slaps at his hand. “Stop it! You’re freaking her out!”

“She’s freaking me out!” Lucas retaliates, which honestly? That’s fair. The girl hasn’t said anything yet, even after your multiple attempts to get her to do so. No matter how much you try, you can’t coax a response out of her.

“I bet she’s deaf.” Your brother offers, suddenly clapping his hands to scare her, making both you and her flinch. “Not deaf…”

You roll your eyes at him. “Guys, she’s probably just really scared right now. We should give her some space,” you look at both Lucas and Dustin, “and time,” now you look at Mike. The three boys deflate a bit.

“She’s probably cold,” Mike says after a moment of silence, and you nod at his suggestion. Seeing your agreement, he walks over to a basket of clothes and takes out some pajamas.

While Mike is away, thunder rumbles and the girl jumps, unconsciously getting closer to you. You wrap an arm around her reassuringly, making note that she doesn’t like loud noises. If anything, she’s showing more and more signs of trauma response, which makes you uneasy. You remember Hopper saying something about Will being in danger. What are the odds that this little girl was running from something as well?

“Here, these are clean.” Mike’s return breaks you from your thoughts, and you take the clothes from him and stand up. You thank him, then offer your hand to the girl. She looks at you uncertainly.

“It’s okay,” you reassure her. “Let’s go get you dressed in some warm clothes. I’m right here, sweetheart.”

“She’s super nice.” Dustin says, trying to help.

Lucas adds, “Yeah, you can trust her.”

“She’s alright.” Is all Mike offers.

You give them all an appreciative smile, even if Mike is being a bit of an ass, and then you feel a small, cold hand wrap around yours. The girl stands up, looking around shyly, and you lead her to the bathroom. When you go to close the door, she stops you.

Mike has followed, seeing the interaction. “You don’t want it closed?”

Her voice is quiet, solemn. “No,”

You and Mike look at each other, and he voices what you’re thinking. “So you can speak.”

He looks excited about this new information, and you shove his head out of the doorway. She needs to get dressed. “We’ll leave the door cracked, okay?”

She nods at you, and you stand guard outside the door. It’s not that you don’t trust the boys, but Mike has only known her for ten minutes and he’s already been nicer to her than you’ve ever seen him with anyone else. The only other person he’s this soft spoken to is Will, so you’re protective of her.

You can hear the boys discussing tonight’s events from the living area while the girl gets dressed. They sound scared, and a part of you can’t blame them. While you’re fairly certain that the girl isn’t dangerous, it’s still a creepy situation. Once again, Hopper’s new theory surrounding Will floats through your mind. This all can’t be some coincidence.

Sighing, you approach the boys and catch a bit of the conversation.

“Our houses become Alcatraz.” You hear Lucas saying, and you figure they’ve finally pieced together that there’s no way any of you can tell anyone about the girl. None of you were supposed to be out tonight. As much as you know you should tell an adult, you also need to be able to help Jonathan with finding Will. If your mom locks the house down, you’re doomed.

“Lucas is right,” the boys turn to you. “We can’t go to anyone about this just yet, but I also don’t think it’s a good idea to hide her. She’s been through something terrible, it’s obvious. Tonight, I say she gets some rest. We can figure out what to do later.”

Mike nods, for once agreeing wholeheartedly with you. “She’ll sleep here tonight-”

Dustin’s eyes widen in horror, “You’re letting a girl-”

You clamp your hand over his mouth, motioning for Mike to continue.

“Thanks, Y/N. In the morning, she sneaks around my house, goes to the front door and rings my doorbell. My mom will answer and know exactly what to do. She’ll send her back to Pennhurst,”

They think she’s from Pennhurst? You think, but don’t verbalize it.

“Or wherever she comes from. We’ll be totally in the clear! And tomorrow night, we go back out, and this time we find Will.”

You gotta hand it to Mike Wheeler, he may be a pain in the ass, but he’s a smart pain in the ass. The plan is pretty sound, so long as he follows through with it. However, it’s him following through with it that leaves you a bit unsure.

He looks at you for approval, and you hesitantly nod. “It’s a pretty good plan, Wheeler. So long as you stick to it.”

Lucas and Dustin nod along with you, there’s an unspoken sense of doubt that Mike will actually be able to turn the girl over to his mom. Then she walks out, dressed now in some of Nancy’s old clothes. She draws into herself when you all turn to her, shy. You walk over and offer your hand again, which she accepts.

“Mike, go find her something to sleep on. Dustin, we gotta go soon before mom notices we’re gone.”

Both boys comply, with Mike searching for a sleeping bag and Dustin packing up his stuff. You crouch down next to the girl, so that you’re face to face, and give her a warm smile. “It was lovely meeting you. My name is Y/N, I hope Mike over there doesn’t give you a hard time tonight.”

Mike flips you off, having heard you. “If he’s annoying,” you lean in close to her now, whispering in her ear. “You have my permission to pinch him.”

The girl giggles, finally relaxing a bit, and you warm with pride. She’ll be okay, she seems like a very resilient girl and you’ll oddly miss her.

The two other boys are waiting for you upstairs. You all wish Mrs. Wheeler a good night and head out. Thankfully the rain has now stopped, so the bike ride home isn’t bad. You stop at Lucas’ turn to make sure he gets home safely before finally arriving at your place. As Dustin begins pedaling into your driveway, you don’t follow.

“I’m going to go see Jonathan, he didn’t answer my calls earlier and I just…”

Dustin waves at you, not even bothering to turn around. “Yeah yeah, go see your boyfriend. If mom asks, you’re asleep.”

“He’s not my boyfriend-”

“Are you seriously going to argue with me after I offered to cover for you?”

Your brother gives you a pointed look, and you know he’s right. “Touche.”

Dustin goes to leave, but you quickly grab at his jacket. “Before I forget, swear to me that you’ll keep me updated if anything weird happens, okay?”

He nods at you, knowing better than to argue, and gives you a mock salute as he heads inside.

The living room light is on when you arrive at the Byers home, despite the late hour, but you aren’t surprised. You knock on the door and wait. When no one comes, you knock again, a bit louder this time. After another few moments, the door swings open.

Jonathan has a finger over his lips in a shushing manner, motioning to Joyce who is passed out on the couch. You nod, letting him know you understand. The two of you go to his room and when he closes the door, you finally get a good look at him. He looks worse than he did earlier, the bags under his eyes have somehow gotten darker. His hair is a mess, his eyes bloodshot.

“You’re soaked.” Jonathan says.

“Yeah,” he doesn’t want to talk about it yet, so you play along. “Got caught in the rain. Are some of my spare clothes still in your bottom drawer?”

He nods at you, going over and grabbing a t-shirt and pajama pants for you. You accept them gratefully and excuse yourself to the bathroom to change. Your bones are cold, the rain seemingly having penetrated the layers of your skin. In the mirror you see that your own eyes are bloodshot; you don’t look much better than Jonathan, really.

When you return Jonathan is sitting on his bed, so you join him. It’s silent between you, all you can hear is his breathing. You stare straight ahead, so does he, and you wait. You’ve only seen Jonathan like this a handful of times, where the stress and anxiety becomes too much for him. He shuts down, draws into himself, and all you can do is wait for him to return to you; he always does.

“Mom got a call tonight.” Jonathan’s voice is hoarse, and he looks frail. You wonder if he ever did end up making the spaghetti you prepared for him.

“Who was it?”

He swallows heavily, taking a moment to respond. “She said it was Will.”

“Will?” You look at him now, searching for any signs on his face, his voice lacks emotion. By the way he stares blankly ahead, as if he’s not really present with you right now, you know that it hadn’t been Will on the other end.

“She started freaking out, going ballistic,” his voice cracks a bit, so you take a chance and reach for his hand. He lets you take it, giving you a squeeze, before continuing. “She was screaming, begging whoever it was to give Will back.”

Jonathan pauses again. You don’t say anything, because no words will help. He’s never been the type for comforting words, anyways. He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes. “It wasn’t him. Lightning struck and our phone got charred. It wasn’t Will.”

Now it’s your turn to squeeze Jonathan’s hand. He doesn’t deserve any of this. None of the Byers do. Out of the entire town, they’re the family who deserves the most that life can give. Will, too good. Jonathan, too selfless. Joyce, too loving. They’re the best damn people you know.

“I tried calming her down, but she was hysterical. She’s only asleep right now because she worked herself up too much and passed out. I’m worried she-'' Jonathan shakes his head, as if ashamed by his own words. “I’m worried she’s going crazy, Y/N.”

He’s quiet again, but you can tell he’s about to break. His knee is now bouncing up and down and his breathing has become slightly ragged. Everything from today has been building up, it was only a matter of time before he snapped. You’re also worried about Joyce, a part of you skeptical to believe her, but the little girl you found tonight in the rain? Something was definitely weird about Will’s disappearance, but you’re hesitant to tell Jonathan just yet. For all you know, she could’ve simply been a girl who got lost and will be returned to her family tomorrow.

You don’t want to worry Jonathan any more than you need to.

“I should’ve been there for him. I shouldn’t have taken that shift.” He gasps out, and like a dam the tears begin to fall. You’re quick to pull him into a hug and he crumbles into you. His body shakes with violent sobs and he clutches at you as if afraid you’ll leave.

“You can’t blame yourself.” You whisper, stroking a hand through his hair. He cries even harder, the force of it almost enough to knock you over, so you situate yourself so that you’re fully on the bed, laying against his pillows, with Jonathan crying into your chest beside you.

“He’s g-gone.”

“We’ll find him, I promise.” Your own tears threaten to come out, but you force them down. You have to be here for him, he needs you. The only other time Jonathan has so openly cried was when Lonnie left years ago. He’s been holding everything in since then, all those years of looking after his family, taking care of his brother, getting harassed by assholes like Tommy Hagan.

Neither of you say anything else, and you know that Jonathan needs to let it all out. You soothe him as best as you can, running a hand through his hair, stroking his back, reassuring him over and over again that none of this is his fault until your own voice becomes hoarse. You don’t know how long you stay like this, but sometime during the night Jonathan finally falls asleep, and you follow shortly after him.

—

Sunlight streams through Jonathan’s spare bed sheet that he’s pinned over his window, serving as a makeshift curtain, waking you up. You stretch, careful not to wake the boy beside you, and crawl out of the bed. You’re antsy, already knowing that today will be another long day. After grabbing some clothes from your designated drawer and getting dressed, you head into the kitchen and start making a quick breakfast. Just as you’re finishing up, Jonathan comes out of his room, dressed and ready for the day.

Neither of you say anything about the night prior, instead silently working around each other in the kitchen with years of practiced ease. He hands you the salt shaker right when you need it, you grab the pieces of toast that he popped into the toaster, the two of you never once get in each other’s way. You get deja vu, remembering all the times you’ve slept over with Dustin, you and Jonathan making the boys breakfast while they slept in.

The only indication that last night really happened is a forehead kiss from Jonathan, his lips soft against your head. Out of the two of you, you’re definitely the touchy one, so it’s always a nice surprise when he initiates the touch, and his forehead kisses were a welcome rarity.

When the plates have been made, Joyce gets up from the couch and stumbles over to the table. You quickly help her sit down, and for the first time since Will’s disappearance you’re able to really look at her. She looks like Jonathan, only worse. The bags under her eyes are darker, her hair is more matted, and you believe she’s still wearing the same shirt you saw her in the night that Will went missing.

“All right, mom. Breakfast is ready.” Jonathan tries to place her plate on the table, but Joyce stops him, worried about the poster of Will.

Jonathan gives you a look and you run over to the table, grabbing the poster so that he can set the plate down.

Joyce gives you a tired smile, “Thank you, Y/N, but I can’t eat.”

“I just need you to eat, mom.”

“Jonathan’s right, Mrs. Byers. You need to eat, we gotta keep your strength up.” You feel like you’re talking to a child, but in a way, you suppose you are.

The woman lights a cigarette instead, and faintly you wonder how many she’s had within the last 48 hours; you’ll need to wash your clothes when you get home. She begins to ask Jonathan to go to Xerox to make as many copies of Will’s poster as possible. You sit down in front of her, silently eating, knowing there’s no place for you in this conversation.

It’s not that the Byers are ashamed that they have little money, but you know it’s rude to listen in. They make do with what they have, and Jonathan has never felt embarrassed with you knowing it.

“I don’t want you to go alone,” Joyce says, causing you to speak up.

“I’ll go with him and help hang them up, it’s no problem.”

Jonathan turns to you. “You have that chem test, remember? I’m not letting you miss that.”

“Shit…” you bury your face into your hands. You completely forgot about that after finding the little girl last night and dealing with Jonathan. You’ve heard about how impossible the chem exams were, and science has never been your best subject. That was Dustin’s thing, your thing was more humanities.

“You’re the smartest person I know, you’ll ace the exam,” Jonathan reassures you before turning to his mom. “And I’ll handle the posters, it’s okay.”

Joyce has been lost in thought during your conversation with her son, only beginning to speak again when she’s asked how many copies will be efficient. Once she starts speaking again, it’s almost like she’s physically unable to stop. She begins to ramble, finally exposing the crumbling woman that you’ve only heard about, now understanding Jonathan’s fears for her.

“Mom-”

“If we… ten cents-”

“Mom!” Jonathan raises his voice a bit, now grabbing at his mother’s hand. “You can’t get like this, okay?”

The look on Joyce’s face kills you. She looks so lost, ashamed of her behavior, and you cast your head down; this is a private matter. Joyce profusely apologizes to him and all Jonathan can do is gently reassure her that it’s okay. All of this is okay.

Their tender moment is interrupted by knocking on the front door, revealing Hopper on the other side. His presence makes you uneasy, so you stay in the kitchen and begin to clean up with Jonathan while Joyce attacks him with questions.

“A little bit of trust here, alright? We’ve been searching all night.” You hear the cop say. Your hand clenches the sponge, rubbing a bit harder at the plate you’re cleaning. If they’ve been searching all night, why are they here now?

“Went all the way to Cartersville.” Ever since Will disappeared, you’ve been building a wall of hope within you that he’ll be found safe and sound. However, with every passing day, with every new situation that occurs, you can feel a piece of the wall collapse. You can feel it now; the search party went all the way to Cartersville.

“And?” Joyce asks.

“Nothing.” The cry that Joyce lets out causes you to drop the plate you’ve been cleaning, shattering on the floor. You curse, immediately bending down to pick up the pieces. Luckily it didn’t shatter into a million bits, but you still feel horrible for breaking one of their dishes.

Jonathan bends down as well to help, and the commotion catches Hopper’s attention. He sees you scrambling to clean up the mess and sighs with annoyance. “Does she live here or something?”

You and Jonathan look at each other, a slight smile on your faces, and only respond to Hopper with a synchronized shrug. You basically do live at the Byers’ at this point, you have been for years now. It was the same for Jonathan: if you weren’t at his house, he was at yours.

Joyce wipes some of her tears away. “Y/N is family, she’s here to help.”

Hopper ignores this, instead bringing up the phone call from the night before. Joyce leads him over to the phone, and you join them once you’ve collected the remaining pieces of broken glass. When you see the phone, you can’t help but gasp. Jonathan’s words from last night are accurate, the phone is charred.

“Storm barbecued this pretty good.” Hopper says.

Joyce waves her arms out, disbelieving. “The storm? You’re saying that that’s not… weird?”

“No, it’s weird.” Hopper begins, but you cut him off.

“It’s really weird.”

He glares at you. You mumble a quick sorry and back away a bit while Jonathan asks if the call can be traced. Hopper focuses back on the situation at hand, informing him that it isn’t possible and then questions if Joyce even heard Will in the first place. The question makes you cringe, knowing it’ll only make Joyce more agitated and hurt.

“Flo said you just heard some breathing.”

It’s the way he phrases the question, the way he emphasizes the word “just”, that bothers you. This woman has just lost her kid, what kind of mother wouldn’t know her own child’s breathing?

“Even if it was ‘just’ some breathing, I’d know it was my brother. Will is her son, she’d know better than anyone.” You find yourself saying. The words weren’t meant to leave your mouth, but the appreciative look Joyce casts your way outweighs the fear from Hopper’s glare.

“It was him. It was Will, and he was scared. Then something-”

“It was probably just a prank call,” Hopper tries to reason with her, causing you to roll your eyes at him. You respect the guy, you do, but could he at least attempt to listen to Joyce?

You excuse yourself before you say anything else, heading back into the kitchen to collect the two posters you and Jonathan made. While the others talk, you grab his things and pack his bag for him. You know he’ll probably skip school today to get the copies done in time, maybe keep an eye on his mom, so you make a mental note to inform him later that you’ll help with putting the fliers up the second you’re done with the exam. He needs someone there for him.

When you’ve grabbed the last of Jonathan’s things, Lonnie’s name is mentioned. You freeze, standing right outside the hall from them, only a wall between you. If Lonnie is somehow involved in this, you’ll kill him yourself. He was always cruel to Will, even when you were around to witness it. You hate him more than anything in this damn world.

“It’s been long enough, I’m having him checked out.” Hopper declares, storming out of the house.

You count to three in your head, and the second you get to three, Jonathan is following after Hopper. You knew he would, hating his father the most out of everyone who has had the displeasure of meeting him. You follow behind him, heading outside to talk to the Chief.

“Hey, Hopper. Let me go.”

Hopper takes a drag from his cigarette, facing the two of you. “I’m sorry?”

“To Lonnie’s,” Jonathan says, looking at you for backup.

You do your best to try. “If Will’s there, that means he probably ran away. Cops will scare the poor boy, he’ll think he’s in trouble.”

“And he’ll hide. He’s good at hiding.” Jonathan finishes for you.

Hopper stares at you both, inhaling more smoke from his cigarette and blowing it in your direction with a curious look in his eyes. “You two are sickening to be near, you know that?”

You and Jonathan share an annoyed look. A kid is missing, and you still have to clarify that you aren’t together? “It’s not like that,” Jonathan says.

“Sure, you know cops are good at detecting lies,” Hopper approaches him now, grabbing his shoulders. For a brief second you’re afraid he’ll hurt him. “And we’re also good at finding, okay? Stay here with your mom. She needs you.”

Hopper punches at Jonathan’s shoulder before facing you. “And you,” you brace for whatever he’s about to say, knowing you probably aren’t his favorite person at the moment. He points at Jonathan, “He needs you.”

His words hang in the air several minutes after he’s gone. You glance at Jonathan, but he doesn’t meet your eye and instead he goes back inside. You sigh, following after him because it’s what you do. Hopper’s right, he needs you.

Jonathan’s in the living room, speaking softly to his mom when you enter. You don’t disturb them but rather snatch Jonathan’s keys from the counter and wait for him by the door. Like Joyce said, Xerox opens in about thirty minutes and you have a chem exam to take. If you leave now, you’ll be able to make the copies with him and be back in time before school.

The ride to Xerox is tense, you know Jonathan is upset that he’s been sidelined by Hopper. You also know that he’s torn between wanting to help his mom and staying out of his house as much as possible. If it weren’t for your god damn chem test you’d offer to skip and hide out at your place, but you can’t. Jonathan wouldn’t let you risk your future for him (even though you would, in a heartbeat, a million times over).

The man at Xerox gives Jonathan a look of pity, clearly recognizing Will’s picture on the poster. It’s your favorite photo of him, smiling with all his teeth and happy as can be. From what you’ve heard, the whole town has been conducting search parties for him. Jonathan ignores the look and asks for the 200 copies to be made.

It’s just you and him in the store as you wait for the prints to be done. The guy said it’d be about a ten minute wait so you wander around the store. Jonathan clearly is in a no talking mood, so you occupy yourself with whatever you find. You wish you’d brought your backpack to Jonathan’s last night so you could at least study a bit while waiting, but you didn’t. It’d be a miracle if you pass this exam.

Jonathan wanders around as well, so you give a quick look around and find the employee. He’s standing over the printer when you approach. “I’d like to pay for the copies, please.”

“You can pay after they’re done-”

“No, I can’t let him see,” you point over to Jonathan, who is now looking at some stationary. “Please, just let me pay now so he can yell at me later.”

The guy gives you a shrug, clearly not getting paid enough to care. “Okay, it’ll be $20. Just leave the money on the counter over there, the prints should be done soon.”

You nod and do as you’re told, leaving the $20 bill on the counter while Jonathan isn’t looking. He can kill you later, right now you want to make up for not being able to help with hanging them up. There’s literally hundreds to get through, he can’t do that all alone.

When the posters are done and Jonathan collects them, you wish the worker a good day and then wrap your arms around him and use all your strength to drag your friend into the car. He doesn't fight back at first, too confused by your actions, and you’re almost out the door before he sees the man pocket the money and wave at you. The dots connect in his head and Jonathan begins to fight against you.

“Y/N, let me pay-”

“Nope. Not happening!”

“We both know I’m stronger-”

“Debatable, honestly, seeing as how we’re almost to your car.”

“Let go!” He tugs harshly as his arm, which you’ve got a secure hold on, causing you to stumble a bit.

You plant your feet more firmly against the ground and use all your weight to pull the boy forward. You’re a few feet away from the car, just one more solid pull should do the trick. “Stop fighting this, Byers. I’ve already paid-”

“Which you shouldn’t have!”

“Keep fighting and drop all the posters, I dare you.”

Jonathan looks down at the posters in his spare hand, realizing that you’re right. If he doesn’t give in soon, they’ll topple over. He lets out an agitated groan, throwing his head back, and then marches over to the car to unlock it and fling himself into the driver’s seat. “Just get in.”

You do a small victory dance and hop in the car.

“I hate you.”

“You love me.”

He hesitates only for a moment. “God, I hate that I do.”

You smile, buckling your seatbelt. Jonathan pulls out of the parking lot and begins the drive to school. He’s less tense this time, at least. The small little wrestling match between the two of you seemingly did some good, then.

When you pull up to school, you once again apologize to Jonathan for being unable to help. He waves you off, understanding.

“It’s okay, I promise. I can’t have you failing out of high school because of me.”

You roll your eyes. “One test won’t make me become a high school dropout, Jonathan.”

He ruffles your hair, which you slap him for. “You can join me after, okay? Good luck, bug.”

“Fine, but I’m taking some posters with me so I can hang up on my way to my locker.”

“Deal.”

You run to your locker, flinging it open and letting out a sigh of relief when you spot your chem cards. Honestly, you really should’ve prepared better for your little sleepover at the Byers. You glance at the watch on your wrist, noting that you have roughly fifteen minutes to memorize all the elements in the periodic table as well as some chemistry definitions.

Just peachy.

You tie your hair up so you can focus better and grab the note cards. If you review the cards as you walk to class, you can save at least three minutes of studying time. You tuck the few remaining posters of Will under your arm and begin to head to your class, getting absorbed in all the elements and words. As you’re skimming a card about protein being K, you run into Nancy and Barb, who also seem to have the same idea as you.

“Oh, hey Y/N.” Nancy greets you, Barb waving to you as well.

They’re being nice, so you try to make conversation. “Studying for Kaminsky’s test?”

They nod at you and Nancy sighs, “Yeah, his exams are the worst.”

You laugh a bit, for once on the same page as her. “I know. I spent last night at Jonathan’s, I completely forgot about the test until this morning. I’m screwed.”

Barb raises her eyebrows at you while Nancy suddenly looks sad. “Oh, I’m sorry about Will. I know you and him are close.”

“Yeah, it must be hard taking care of Jonathan right now.” Barb voices.

You give them both an awkward smile. “Thanks, I guess? It’s just, there’s still hope, so…”

The three of you stand there as your voice trails off. It’s painfully awkward. While you’ve known Nancy since you were 12, and at some point you even called her a close friend of yours, the second you entered high school she became distant. You never blamed her for it, people simply grow up and grow apart. Now you only ever interact with her if it concerns the boys.

Trying to ease the awkwardness, you hold up a poster and offer it to them, but Steve snatches it from your grasp.

“Henderson, didn’t know you were also a little know-it-all. Why don’t you share your cheat sheet with the rest of us?” He says, casting a teasing look your way. It isn’t until he inspects the piece of paper that he finally notices that it’s a missing poster for a child, not a review sheet. “Oh, shit. I’m so sorry.”

You snatch the poster back from him. “You’re an idiot, Steve Harrington.”

His friends laugh, but Steve has a bit of heart to look guilty, so you count that as something. His shame doesn’t last long though and the goofy and sweet boy who made sure you were okay after almost hitting you with his car is gone.

Steve plays off the situation as if it were nothing. “Let me make it up to you, Henderson. I know you’re probably stressed out of your mind dealing with boyfriend troubles because of Bill-”

“His name is Will,” you grit out, remembering now why you dislike Steve so much. Everything was about impressing his friends, and while you can sympathize with him, it doesn’t give him an excuse to be an asshole.

“Right, Will. Anyways, I was just about to inform Nance over here that my dad has left town on a conference and my mom’s gone with him, ‘cause, ya know, she doesn’t trust him.”

“Good call,” Tommy says, and you glare at him.

Steve carries on. “So, are you guys in?”

“In for what?” Nancy asks.

“No parents, a big house?” Carol says, as if Nancy is a giant idiot.

You feel bad for her being treated so poorly by her boyfriend’s friends, so you lean in and whisper, “A party, Nancy.” Then you look at Steve. “And no, I’ll pass.”

Steve pouts. “Can’t leave loverboy alone for a couple hours?”

You scoff, shoving the poster against his chest, using more force than probably necessary, but the satisfying grunt he lets out pleases you. “If I didn’t know you I’d say you sound jealous. Unfortunately, I do know you, and that’s exactly why I’m not interested.”

“Meow,” says Carol as she and Tommy laugh.

You ignore her and push past the group to get to class. You’ve wasted enough time, you have to study. Steve lets you, hurt by your words, but tries to play it off, instead focusing his attention on Jonathan up ahead hanging up some posters. You both see him at the same time and as you start to approach him, you hear Steve and his group mock him.

“God, that’s depressing.” Steve says, and you’ve never wanted to hit a man more than you do right now.

You glance at Nancy, trying to convey your disappointment in her. She’s a nice girl, she shouldn’t be with an idiot like Harrington. Who the hell makes fun of a guy with a missing brother? Nancy doesn’t meet your eye, which pleases you. She should feel guilty.

As you near Jonathan, Nancy calls after you to wait up. You listen, mostly because you’re surprised she even followed, and together you walk up to him. “Hey, bee. I thought you’d be long gone by now.”

Jonathan looks up at your voice, surprised when he sees Nancy next to you. He gives you a look that you conclude is a what is she doing here? look and you can only shrug as if to say I have no clue how I ended up in this situation.

Nancy doesn’t see this exchange. “Hey,”

“Hey,” Jonathan responds, still confused.

Nancy looks at you uncertainly, but you refuse to leave. Screw your exam, if she even considers voicing her boyfriend’s opinions to Jonathan then you’ll personally see that she fails alongside you. “I just… I wanted to say, you know… I’m sorry, about everything.”

Oh, she’s being nice. You’re still unimpressed, but Jonathan motions to you to stop staring her down, so you reluctantly listen.

“Everyone’s thinking about you.”

You all turn towards Steve and his group, who are clearly listening in, and you snort at her words. “Right, obviously.”

“Y/N.” Jonathan warns.

“Sorry.”

“It sucks.” Nancy continues, and you have to give her some credit. You’re being a blatant bitch, but she’s still trying. You feel a bit bad now, which honestly makes you dislike her a bit more. Damn morals. “I’m sure he’ll be fine, he’s a smart kid.”

The bell rings, ending Nancy’s little monologue. “I have to go, chemistry test. Y/N, want to walk together?”

She really makes it impossible to be a bitch to her. “Sure, just give me a second.”

You lean close to Jonathan and lower your voice. “Good luck with your dad, bee.”

“How did you know I’d go-”

“Because of course you would. Now go, give him hell for me, will ya?”

Jonathan nods, relieved you aren’t pushing the topic. You know that Lonnie is a sore topic for him, for the entire Byers family, really. You only knew Lonnie for a year or so before Joyce left him, but you’ll never forget his spiteful words and the bruises that Jonathan tried to hide from you. He needs to do this alone, father and son.

You see Nancy watching, and just to spite her you kiss Jonathan’s cheek, relishing in the fact that she looks away, and you wish him luck once again before following her to class.

The test isn’t as bad as you’d feared, and the rest of the day goes by with relative ease. You don’t see much of Steve and his group and you’re thankful for that. Nancy also keeps her distance, no longer attempting to be all buddy buddy with you. A part of you feels bad about that, because honestly the thought of someone thinking you hate them makes you feel physically ill, but as long as Nancy is with someone like Steve, there’s not much you can do about that.

After school you stop by all of Jonathan’s classes and collect the work he’s missed over the last few days; he has enough to worry about, so you figured you could help do some assignments for him. It’s nothing unusual, truth to be told. There was a time you were out for two weeks straight due to the flu one year and Jonathan did every one of your assignments, so it’s about time you returned the favor.

Once you have what you need, you hang up the remaining flyers in your bag and begin your journey to work. You’ve used up all of your sick days helping the Byers, and while Mrs. Waters has insisted on letting you have more time off, you figured the distraction would be good for you. Jonathan will want some space after confronting his dad, and as much as you hated Lonnie, something told you he had nothing to do with Will.

Just when your shift is almost done, your coworker, this young kid named Alex who you’re honestly surprised can legally work, informs you that your mom is on the phone and wants to speak with you. You stack the remaining books in your hands and thank him, walking over to pick up the call.

“Hey, mom. Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine, sweetie! I was just calling to tell ya that Dusty is at the Wheeler’s tonight for dinner, so my plan for ribs won’t work without him. I was wondering if darling Johnny could feed you tonight? I know the two of you have that little sneaky food game.”

Your posture, once slumped over and uninterested, now straightens out. Why the hell is Dustin having dinner at the Wheeler’s? They never do that. “Uh, sure mom that won’t be an issue.”

Your mom lets out a sigh of relief. “Bless that Jonathan! I’ve always liked him…”

Your mom may be the biggest Jonathan supporter you’ve ever met. “Yeah, he’s your favorite. I know,” you shift a bit to catch Alex’s attention, mouthing to him that you need to leave work early. “Hey, did Dustin by chance say how long he’ll be at the Wheeler’s? I can swing by and pick him up after my shift.”

“Oh, I think he’s staying the night there. He mentioned something about Mike not finishing his part of their little science project?”

They’re calling the little girl a science project now? Boys are so typical. “Oh, I see. Well, I gotta get back to work, mom. I’ll be home late tonight.”

Your mom wishes you goodbye and warns you not to be out too late. You hum, already trying to figure out the quickest route to the Wheeler’s house. You can’t say you’re surprised that Mike didn’t follow the plan, but you also can’t say you were prepared for this either.

Alex comes back with your boss and you quickly make up a lie about not feeling well. Mrs. Waters gives you a pitying look and tells you to go. You’re incredibly grateful for her, she’s like a grandmother to you and has always been so kind.

You quickly bike to Mike’s house, going over a grand speech in your head for the boys. Logistically speaking, you’re not sure if they can even harbor the little girl in his basement. Would it be kidnapping? Could kids even kidnap other kids? You aren’t sure and you definitely aren’t willing to find out.

You arrive at the house just as Nancy and Barb are pulling out of the driveway, presumably to Steve’s grand house party. They wave at you awkwardly and you don’t have it in you to wave back. You park your bike next to their doorstep and knock on the door.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” Mrs. Wheeler asks after opening the door.

“Oh, I was just wondering if I could hang out with the boys tonight? Jonathan’s busy and I promised Dustin I’d help with their campaign.”

Mrs. Wheeler cocks her head at you. “But I thought there was a special assembly at the school for Will? Nancy and Barb just left for it.”

You feel your blood boil a bit. There was no assembly for Will at your school, and it was really damn low of Nancy to use his disappearance as a cover story for her stupid party. She’s known Will since he was practically a baby. You have no idea how someone could be so unaffected by a missing child, let alone one who has been at your house every damn weekend for years now.

“Oh, that!” You force yourself to remain calm; there isn’t time to snitch on Nancy, Mrs. Wheeler would only have more questions for you. “Yeah, I’m, uh, skipping it. Jonathan doesn’t want to go, so after he’s back from his errands I’m heading over to his place to, you know, comfort him?”

The woman stares at you for a second, trying to determine if there are any lies to your words. You’ve never been the best liar, but being the oldest Henderson child has unfortunately prepared you for being quick on your feet when needed.

“Well, come on then. They boys just went downstairs, and if you can please remind them to bring the plate of food back up here I’d really appreciate it.”

You thank Mrs. Wheeler and let yourself in. Her words have all but solidified your suspicions: Mike kept the girl.

When you descend the basement steps, it’s almost comical how the kids scramble to hide the girl like little cockroaches. They run around and Dustin screams something about covering her before the poor girl is being manhandled into a sheet as Mike screams at Lucas and Dustin to calm down.

“Guys! It’s just me! Jesus!” You shout, shoving past Mike to rush over to the girl and free her from the sheets. She looks more frightened than usual, but at least she’s alive.

“God, why am I always the one you push?”

You shush Mike, smoothing back the girl’s hair and offering her a reassuring smile. “Remember me, sweetheart?”

The girl nods and softly says, “Y/N.”

“Very good. I’m going to scream at my brother real quick, so why don’t you cover your ears for me so you don’t get too frightened?”

“Wait, what-”

The minute her ears are covered, you turn to Dustin and begin screaming. “Are you brain dead and not understand the words ‘tell me if anything weird happens’ or do you simply lack the appropriate empathy needed for a concerned sister?”

Dustin ducks his head in shame. “Y/N, look-”

“No! I’m all for helping you guys with your adventures and whatever, but Will went missing and then she appears and Mike,” you turn to him and he hides behind a frightened Lucas. “You said you’d stick to your plan. Now tell me, did you?”

Mike shakes his head, his eyes wide. Dustin looks no better as he cowers behind the others. Lucas simply shrugs, knowing that this would happen. You never, ever, yell at the boys; the few times you have in the past, all hell had broken loose.

“Y/N-”

“Zip it, Henderson. I’m so pissed off at you right now and if you want to make it to thirteen I suggest you keep quiet.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good. Now, why don’t you guys catch me up on what you’ve so sweetly kept hidden from me.” It’s worded as a question, but the boys know better than to deny you.

You sit on the ground so that you’re next to the girl and then motion for the three boys in front of you to start speaking. They look at Mike, giving him a nudge, and he hesitantly steps forward to begin speaking. “Her name is El.”

The girl, El, looks up at you and smiles. You return the smile and knock your shoulder against hers in a playful manner. “Nice to meet you, can I ask what El is short for?”

“Eleven,” she says, and you want to question the name further but the look on Mike’s face stops you. Now is not the time, you guess.

“El, she’s… different.” Mike continues, looking around nervously. He’s acting as if someone could break in any second and snipe you guys, and a part of you doesn’t doubt it can happen. “She has these powers, like, mind control powers.”

You snort, unable to stop yourself. El looks at you, looking unoffended, seemingly expecting this reaction. However, Mike groans at you. “Y/N, this is serious. She-she knows about Will.”

At this, your smile fades and you feel an overwhelming sense of hope take over you. You find your arms wrapping around El before you can control yourself and you give her a tight hug. She stiffens in your arms and you immediately pull away. “I’m sorry, I just… sorry.”

She laughs a bit, softly saying that it’s okay.

“Do you really know Will? Where he is?” You ask, almost too scared to say the words out loud. If she’s telling the truth… you shake your head in an attempt to dispel any false hope. You don’t know this girl, she could be lying.

Before El can say anything else, Mike speaks for her. “She does, but there’s bad men out there who want to hurt her. I think they’re after Will, too.”

You freeze. “Bad men?”

“Yes, this is why we didn’t want to tell you!”

“I wanted to tell her,” Lucas says, which causes Mike to glare at him.

You wave your arms at the two boys, breaking up their fight. “Mike, what do you mean by bad men? Honey,” you look at El, “did someone hurt you? Are you in danger? Should I call the police?”

“No!” All three boys shout at once.

You look at them, at the genuine fear in their eyes, and sigh, “Okay, if you can give me a good reason not to call the cops, I won’t.”

“Did you not hear the part about El having powers?” Dustin asks.

“Gee, Dustin. You’re right! It’s like her having powers is totally believable and reassuring to the situation at hand!”

“I can show you,” El speaks up.

You all face her now. “You can?”

She nods at you, getting up and grabbing your backpack that you threw on the ground when you walked in. She rustles through it while you and the boys look at one another. After a few seconds, El grabs one of your comic books and places it on the table. She looks at you and tilts her head, indicating for you to sit down next to her; you do as you’re told.

El straightens out your comic and then closes her eyes, going completely still. The air around you shifts and you can practically feel the static electricity encasing you; the hair on your arms stand up. The pages of the comic begin to flick up, fluttering as if someone is thumbing through them in rapid succession. You watch as the Spidey panels flash before your eyes, the pages flying faster and faster until it becomes almost frightening to be near. Then, once it gets to its last page, the comic flies up into the air and hovers for a few seconds, right in front of your face.

“Holy shit,” you breathe out, your eyes wide.

Just as quickly as it began, the comic drops back onto the table. You look up at El and see that her nose is now bleeding, which rips you back to reality. The chair scrapes against the ground as you get up to help her, dabbing at the blood with a tissue that had been laying on the table.

“Do you believe us now?” Mike asks, a smug look on his face.

You gently wipe away the remaining blood from El’s face, looking her in the eye and directing your words to her. “I’m listening, sweetheart. What can you do to help us find Will?”

El smiles, pleased to have earned your trust, and you get the feeling that this little girl is the most powerful thing in all of Hawkins, maybe even the world. At her request, Mike places his DnD board on the table and arranges the pieces for El to use. She sits down and closes her eyes once more.

Lucas gives you a doubtful look. “What’s the weirdo doing?”

You flick his head, not enjoying the name calling. Honestly, you thought you raised these boys better than that.

El seems to accomplish whatever she was doing and picks up the wizard piece, murmuring, “Will.”

You feel your heart stop. Will always insisted on being the wizard whenever they played the game. He was Will the Wise, forever and always. El couldn’t have simply guessed that, and you know it’s her-

“Superpowers,” Dustin finishes your thought for you. The two of you exchange a glance and you notice the slight glee in his eyes. Under different circumstances, you’d also find this all pretty cool.

Mike sits next to El and begins to ask some questions about where she last saw Will. She gives him a look that you can’t quite decipher before swiping her arm across the table and spilling the pieces onto the floor. She then flips the board over, having it now face upside down, and places Will’s piece back down.

You knit your brows together, trying to follow along. El’s movements are methodical and carefully planned, being unable to find the right words due to her poor speech, and you try to piece together the information you’ve been given.

“I don’t understand,” Mike says, being extra gentle with El. You’ve never seen him so soft spoken before and you’re grateful at least one of the boys doesn’t view her as some monster. Which reminds you that you need to have a conversation with Dustin about respecting women, but for now you’ll hold off.

“Hiding.” says El.

He’s good at hiding, Jonathan’s words echo in your head.

“Will is hiding?”

El nods, now looking more nervous. You can tell that Mike is getting closer to information that she doesn’t want him near, which finally causes you to ask the question that’s been heavily on your mind. “From the bad men?”

Now El gives a slight shake of the head, and Mike presses on. “Then from who?”

Without saying anything, El places a second piece onto the board right in front of Will’s. It’s a piece you’re unfamiliar with, with two snake-like heads that loom over the small wizard piece. Whatever it is, you know it isn’t good judging the way Mike, Dustin, and Lucas look at each other in fear.

You turn to Dustin and whisper, “What’s that piece?”

Your brother puts his hands behind his head and sighs deeply, a new resigned look on his face. He looks as if he’s just aged thirty years, which you find a bit dramatic. “It’s the Demogorgon.”

“The Demo-what?” The name sounds familiar, but you can’t remember anything about it.

Mike looks at you and for once his voice holds no annoyance when he says, “There’s a lot we still have to catch you up on.”

–

Your head is spinning as you bike to Jonathan’s with all the new information you’ve just received. Demogorgons, magical vortexes, kids with damn superpowers. It’s all a lot for you to take in, and while you fully believe that El is something entirely different from a normal little girl, how can you be sure that it’s connected to Will? While his disappearance still confuses you, it’s illogical to jump to supernatural conclusions.

Dustin had begged you to let him spend the night at Mikes in order to keep talking to El, and you only agreed because you figured you’d be at Jonathan’s again tonight anyways. He’s been MIA all day and you’re worried as usual, but you made him and Mike swear to you that they’d stay put in the house. At least this way they’re in one place, so if they screw around they’ll be easier to find.

When you arrive at the Byers home you notice that Jonathan’s car isn’t in the driveway, which only confuses you further. Where the hell is he? You gave him all day to deal with Lonnie and cool off, trusting that he wouldn’t do anything stupid for twelve hours, and yet…

You fear he’s done something stupid.

You don’t have time to think too much about Jonathan’s absence because a frantic Joyce runs out the door screaming. She runs straight past you and into her car, and the house begins to light up like a christmas tree. You can hear The Clash’s Should I Stay or Should I Go, a song that Will once had on repeat for three weeks straight, and you can feel the same static electricity in the air that you felt when El used her powers in front of you.

Joyce suddenly gets out of the car and spots you, pointing towards her house. “You see that too?”

You swallow. “Yeah,”

She nods, as if your confirmation is all she needs to determine her sanity, and then marches inside. You stand in the yard, motionless. You’re terrified, and after learning about El tonight, you don’t have it in you to discover any other supernatural beings in Hawkins at the moment. Sighing, you follow after the woman because Jonathan isn’t home and someone needs to talk her down from whatever panic attack the flashing lights have inevitably caused.

“Mrs. Byers-”

“Y/N, you can’t tell me there isn’t something,” Joyce waves her hands in front of her face, almost grasping at the air, “weird about all of this. That was Will’s song, the lights were flashing in Will’s room, something came out of Will’s wall-”

“Something came out of his wall?”

“Yes! I’m not… I promise I’m not crazy, okay? You saw it, please tell me you saw it.”

You bite your lip, now thinking about El. You swore to Mike you wouldn’t tell anyone about her, and honestly you’re not sure that you should tell Joyce about her right now. You’re still unsure if El is being honest with you, and you can’t just give the woman false hope for her son. It’d kill you if you were wrong about El. But seeing the lights, hearing the music, the thing in the wall… There’s something that she’s not telling you.

“Mrs. Byers… I’m not quite sure what I saw, but we just had a bad storm and it could be faulty wiring.”

Joyce slumps her shoulders, frustrated that you aren’t conspiring with her. You just… you can’t. Not yet. Not before you figure out what the hell El is doing in Hawkins. You refuse to worsen Joyce’s already chronic anxiety and paranoia; Jonathan would never forgive you if you fed into her delusions, but it kills you to lie to her.

“Look, I do think that something is weird about this entire situation, “ Joyce’s face lights up, but you’re quick to add, “however, there’s no proof. You, I mean-Mrs. Byers, you’ve seen things in the past. You’re stressed, and anxious, and all the other synonyms.”

The woman lets a few tears drop from her eyes, now embarrassed. “Maybe you’re right. I-I’m sorry, honey. I just-”

You grab her hand. “I know,”

Her smile is brittle, a ghost of the once beautiful smile she’d give you, and your heart breaks for her.

After your conversation, Joyce excuses herself to her room. She looks even more exhausted than before, so you leave her alone and hole yourself up in Jonthan’s room.

You glance at your watch and note the late hour; you’re starting to worry now. Jonathan didn’t mention anything besides Lonnie and the posters, so you don’t know what else he could be doing so late. He wouldn’t go searching for Will without you.

You wake up to Jonathan returning an hour or so later, apparently having fallen asleep while waiting for him.

“Y/N?” His voice is gruff and surprised.

You groan and rub your eyes. “Turn the light off, bee.”

He doesn’t. “What are you doing here?”

The tone of his voice wakes you up a bit, making you sit up and look at him more clearly. His shoulders are tense, his eyes are hiding something, and his overall demeanor is hard to read. “I had something to tell you, but is everything okay?”

“You couldn't have waited until tomorrow? Y/N, this is my house, just… just get out.”

“I’m sorry?” You’re confused by his behavior, now starting to become a bit defensive and hurt by his dismissal.

“You can’t just let yourself in whenever you please.” Jonathan puts his camera on his desk, still refusing to meet your eyes.

“Jonathan, we literally have always let ourselves into each other’s houses whenever we please.”

He rolls his eyes at you and rips off his jacket, throwing it at you. “Get out!”

You catch the jacket before it hits you in the face. “What the hell, Jonathan!”

“Listen, I get that you think you’re a part of the family, but you’re not. You’ve been here for days now, it’s getting old.”

His words cut through you and leave vicious wounds against your skin. He doesn’t mean that, he can’t mean that. You and him were family. He’s never, ever insinuated anything less. He wouldn’t dare. Your Jonathan would never act like this to you, and the only time he’s ever been this cruel to you was when he accidentally dropped Lonnie’s last beer in the fridge and was too embarrassed and ashamed to ask for help; he’d shown up with bruises later that night.

Then it hits you. He did something, something that makes him feel guilty; he keeps glancing at his camera. You soften your voice, “Bee, what did you do?”

He whips around, now yelling. “Nothing! Just get the hell out of my house! It’s getting pathetic!”

You swallow back the angry tears that build in your throat. Fine. Whatever. Let him be a raging bitch after everything you’ve done for him these last few days.

“Fine, I will.” Grabbing your backpack you snatch the assignments you were supposed to give Jonathan and slam them against his chest. “Here’s all your fucking assignments, by the way.”

He seems to come back to himself, blinking away the anger and shame. “Bug…”

“You don’t get to call me that.” And with that, you don’t spare Jonathan another glance.

–

When you get home, the house is eerily quiet. Dustin is at Mike’s and your mom leaves you a note saying that she’s spending the night at your aunt’s. Great. Looks like it’s just you and Mews tonight then.

After everything that’s happened tonight, you never found time to eat dinner, and your stomach is loudly growling. You drop your stuff in your room and then reheat some leftovers, feeling like a pathetic child. You know that Jonathan didn’t mean what he said, but the words had come too easily to him to have just been a way to dodge his guilt. There had been some truth to them. Maybe you were pathetic for always fretting over him.

Dinner is quiet tonight.

You wait for the phone to ring, for Jonathan to call you and apologize, but the call never comes.

You’ve never felt so alone before.

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#steve harrington x henderson!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #stranger things #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things rewrite #slowburn #angst #wdtai #m's writing #the thought of steve just taking will's missing poster and then being like oh shit was so funny to me i had to add it #also sad ending #sorry #but also not

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chickenfics · 1 year ago

Text

the way I love the ocean

Relationship: Robin Buckley x Female!Reader

Summary: It was the summer of ‘87. Nothing in your life had prepared you for Robin, but somehow everything had begun falling into place. It all started with a movie and a pair of ocean-blue eyes, and suddenly you were dancing to a Jukebox in a long-closed diner, or racing down the length of a pier, swimming in the moon-dipped lake and walking her home down yellow-lit streets, talking about the way The Smiths sound like indigo and the best time of the summer is when the fireflies start to come out.

It was the summer of ‘87, and you were falling in love.

Word Count: 7.3k

A/N: .........Hi. Okay so yes it's been six months I am so sorry for the wait. I will finish this fic, and the final chapter will not take another 6 months to get out, but I do still have to write it so bear with me <3 Thank you all for the support, I hope this chapter is at least a little worth the wait :]

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged for future chapters! (Only one more to go)

Fic Playlist! Also on Ao3

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Chapter 7: Here I Go Again

“I’m telling you guys, he just like… doesn’t listen to what I’m saying. It doesn’t matter what it is -- I could tell him I’m heading to college tomorrow, bags already packed, and he’d still be fucking disappointed.”

Steve was stacking shelves with half of his focus and ranting with the other, hand waving through the air with an occasional VHS to add to his point. You were leaning back against the counter of Family Video, resting between Robin’s legs. She had her arms wrapped around your shoulders in a loose but heavy grip, and her chin sat on one of her arms. Steve would have been complaining that she wasn’t working if he wasn’t still reeling from an argument he'd had with his dad.

“I’m sorry, Steve,” you said.

“Yeah,” Robin chimed in, reaching up to lay a hand on the top of your head, tilting it this way and that like a monkey inspecting a coconut. “Parents suck.”

“Parents fucking suck,” he insisted, shoving the last VHS tape into its spot on the shelf. “I can’t wait to move out.”

“Take me with you,” Robin pleaded. Your heart immediately fluttered at the thought of moving into your own little home with Robin and Steve.

“God, can you imagine,” you said, sliding your hands behind Robin’s knees and pulling her closer to you. “Actually having a place of our own…”

“Now hang on a minute, I said I can’t wait to move out -- who said anything about you bozos.”

“Steeeeeeve,” Robin whined, tilting her head so her cheek was smushed against your shoulder. She wrapped her arms further across your chest. “I thought we were best friends.”

“We are best friends -- that doesn’t mean I don’t need my own space.”

“So you can have a man cave,” she replied, voice rising an octave in that way that always meant she was making fun of him.

“Really, Robin? You just--”

“Hey guys,” a sudden familiar voice called along with the chime of the bell as the door opened and Eddie burst through. “I brought the kid.” He spun halfway, pointing a finger at a teenager who was trailing behind him.

“‘The kid.’ Really?” the boy deadpanned, giving Eddie an unamused look.

“Henderson!” Steve grinned, his mood immediately improving. He fidgeted like he was going to run over to him but instead leaned over the other side of the counter. Robin pulled her legs out of your grip to twist around.

“What am I, chop liver?” Eddie demanded, shooting him a wink when the other man rolled his eyes before going to poke him in the ribs.

“Hey,” Robin greeted the kid.

“Hey,” the kid, nodding his head at her, then his gaze quickly snapped to you peeking over her shoulder. “Holy shit,” he said with an endearing lisp. “Is this the…”

“Yep, this is my…”

“Hi,” you raised an awkward hand.

“Holy shit, hi!” he perked up, grinning from ear to ear. The corners of his mouth curled into dimples, the skin around his eyes crinkling with the intensity of his smile. The decision that you liked this kid was instantaneous.

He took a big step closer to the counter and reached a hand over it.

“I’m Dustin, it’s nice to finally meet you,” he shot Robin an intentional look, then glanced back at you. You ducked around Robin to take his hand, smirking when he gave it a firm, business-like shake.

“Nice to meet you too.”

“Why is this just now happening?” he demanded, glancing around the room.

Steve gave a vague shrug, Eddie smirked slyly as he leaned onto Steve’s shoulder, and Robin said, “We’ve just been a little busy, that’s all.”

“Uh-huh,” Dustin said around another smaller grin, eyes twinkling as he looked back at you. “Awesome.”

“Henderson quit staring, you creep.”

“Wha-- I’m not staring--” He dodged as Steve suddenly lunged around the counter for him. The older boy dropped a hand onto the top of Dustin’s baseball cap and gave him a friendly shove before ducking away from the kid’s elbows. Eddie was watching them with his arms crossed and a love-drunk grin on his face that you knew he probably would have denied with his life if anyone dared to bring it up.

“Oh my god, they’re adorable,” you whispered to Robin, turning to face her and draping your arms over her shoulders. Her eyelids fluttered half-closed as she smirked at you.

“You’re adorable.”

“Shut up,” you tucked your nose behind her ear, inhaling the familiar scent of her shampoo.

“Holy shit!” Dustin suddenly yelled, voice cracking. You lifted your head and Robin turned hers to find him staring at you. “You guys totally have to come skating with us on Friday.”

There was a chorus of “What? No,” “Skating, you guys are going skating?” and “I can’t skate -- I can barely even walk,” the last one belonging to the girl whose legs were wrapped around your hips.

“Come on,” Dustin groaned, obviously lacking the patience required to deal with any answer but ‘yes.’ “Guys, it’ll be so fun. El wants to go before they all head back to California, so that means it would actually be really rude to say no. Besides," he added, waving a hand at you. "She can meet the rest of the party there. You guys can't just keep her all to yourselves forever."

"Uh, last I checked she’s a free person," Robin said with mock pleasantness and her own eyebrow raised.

"Alright, fine," Dustin replied, somehow sounding like a parent who was ending an argument he knew he could win. You couldn't help but wonder who this kid was. He was kind of great. "But my argument still stands."

Then, horrifyingly, he looked to you, his lips curling into that adorable grin.

"So, you wanna come skating this weekend?"

"Uh," you hummed, glancing at Robin. She just stared back at you with what you thought might be an expression high on fondness. "Sure," you decided even though you weren't actually sure. "Why not?"

"Robin might fall and crack her big head open," Steve said in answer to your rhetorical question.

“Uh, for your information, I actually have an average-sized head, thank you very much.”

Eddie snorted.

“I mean, if that’s okay,” you ignored the theatrics you were more than used to by now and looked at Robin. You didn’t want to pressure her into anything, and you also didn’t want to just waltz yourself right into her friend group if she didn’t want you to.

But Robin smiled softly. Always soft, always sweet like springtime.

“If you’re game,” she shrugged. “I’m game. You’ll just have to keep me from cracking my perfectly average-sized head head open,” she hooked her arms around your waist with a smirk.

“Oh, you guys are so cute,” Dustin said, and you both turned around to find him grinning at you.

“Shut up, nerd,” Robin said even though she was smiling too. She reached over to give him a little shove to keep up appearances.

“So, six o’clock?” he looked expectantly around the room.

“Yeah, sure,” Steve grumbled, and everyone else nodded in agreement.

“Cool, cool…. So, I’m also gonna need a ride--”

“Oh, me too,” Robin raised a hand.

“Oh my god!”

______________________________________________________________

The roller rink in Hawkins was, in almost every way, about as fancy as you’d expect. It was almost always empty during weekdays and crowded during weekends when kids had off school and parents were looking for a way to get them out of the house. It was dark, the floor was cracked in a few places, and the roller skates were likely older than all of you combined. You were pretty sure your parents had used the same skates you were using now, and as you carried the worn leather back to an equally worn cushioned seat just outside the skating area, you half expected a wheel to pop off or something.

You’d arrived before the rest of the kids. You, Robin, and Dustin had all piled into Steve’s car earlier that evening. Dustin, taking the passenger seat, had ranted about the grade he’d gotten on his science project and how he was being “cheated for all I’m worth, Steve. Cheated.” Then he changed the tone by bragging about how well Suzie had done on her own project.

“Suzie?” you asked, wondering if she was one of the kids you’d be meeting tonight.

“Dustin’s girlfriend,” Robin teasingly provided.

“Yeah,” Dustin said, grinning dreamily. “She’s great. She lives in Utah, though, so we made this whole radio system to communicate. Way easier than using a phone, and this way we know no one can listen in on our conversations.”

“Ew,” Steve muttered.

“It’s not ‘ew,’ it’s romantic.”

“Sounds pretty ‘ew’ to me.”

“Oh, there it is,” Robin leaned between the seats to point at the turn in the road. “Pay attention, Steve.”

“I am, Jesus, would you sit back down?”

With a smirk, Robin flopped herself back into her seat. As Steve turned into the parking lot, Robin gave you a fond smile. It lit up her face like a spring morning, all sunshine and birdsong, and you felt something unbearably warm bloom between your ribs.

Clambering out of Steve's car, you’d all rushed inside to get your skates, Dustin leading the way like he owned the place and chatting with the employees eagerly -- even when they were less than eager to talk to him. Steve had rolled his eyes about five times since getting inside, but there was a constant spark in them. You were pretty sure he loved this kid, and you were also sure that it made sense. Steve, at his very core, was loving -- even when he was trying very hard not to be.

You and Robin had just sat down next to each other when a familiar puff of brown hair popped up in the crowd of pre-teens and parents who had already filled the building. When he caught sight of you, Eddie waved dramatically, and then he spun in a circle to herd a group of kids toward the front desk. Behind him, a large man in a floral shirt had his arm slung around a tiny woman in a beige jacket and following them was another group of kids.

“Jesus, you guys weren’t kidding. How many children does Steve know?”

Robin looked at you and grinned.

“Hey, oh my god!” Dustin called, hopping excitedly as two boys ran up to tackle him in a group hug. From the back of the crowd, another boy appeared and raced towards the pile, throwing his skinny arms around his friends. You watched them with a vague smile on your face.

What happened next was chaos. Between the crowd of strangers and the crowd of children, you felt like you were drowning in faces as Dustin, Robin, and Steve all tried to introduce you at different times to different people. But after only a few moments, the group seemed to realize that there was a newcomer among them.

“Everybody shut up!” Dustin shrilly yelled.

“Dustin, Jesus Christ,” a dark-haired boy muttered, face scrunched in annoyance.

“Okay,” Dustin said, ignoring him. “Everyone, this is Y/N. She’s Robin’s… friend. Y/N, this is Mike,” he pointed to the dark-haired boy, who gave you a grimace in place of a smile. “Lucas,” he pointed to the boy next to Mike, who smiled and nodded. “And Will.” Last in line, Will murmured a shy, “Nice to meet you.”

Then Dustin stretched up on his tip-toes to peer over the crowd. “Max! Eleven! Erica!”

“Jesus, would you stop yelling,” Mike insisted, and Lucas laughed to himself.

Three girls appeared out of the crowd, two of them looking like they were ready to kick someone’s ass.

“What the hell do you want, nerd,” the smallest of them snarked.

“I want to introduce you to someone, so could you be pleasant and or agreeable for once in your life? This is Y/N, she’s Robin’s friend.”

“Hi,” you offered, trying to seem as disarming as possible. “It’s nice to meet you.”

The girl narrowed her eyes at you. “Hi. I’m Erica,” she finally said, looking you up and down.

“Hello,” the girl next to her said in a soft but clear voice. “I’m El. It is nice to meet you,” she held out a hand, and you took it with a gentle shake. She seemed sweet.

“This is Max,” she said, tilting her shoulders to make room for a redhead who was eyeing you warily.

“You’re Robin’s friend?” Max said, and you got the sense that this was some sort of test.

“Yeah,” you replied simply, and the girl only nodded.

“Alright,” Steve clapped his hands together. “Now that that’s done, everybody get your skates before they run out. Come on, chop-chop everybody, let’s go!”

You watched as Steve slipped into what Robin had warned you was “Mom Mode” as he herded all the kids towards the back of the room to pick up their skates.

“Hi,” the small woman greeted you, stepping around the man in the colorful shirt. She smiled as she offered you her hand, and kindness radiated from every inch of her. “I’m Joyce, Will and El’s mom. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, too,” you replied, instantly feeling comfortable.

“I know things can be a little crazy around here,” she glanced around the roller rink. “But you let me know if you need anything.”

“Thank you,” you said, feeling a bit of your mask chip away as you began to feel more at ease. Maybe meeting new people wasn’t as scary as you’d been led to believe your whole life. Maybe you’d just never met the right people.

“Should we get this show on the road?” Robin said, appearing close to your side.

“Let’s do it,” you murmured. “Just promise you won’t break any bones, okay?”

“‘Course not. You’re here to look after me, right?” she replied, voice sugar-sweet. All you could do was nod, your mouth opening uselessly. Robin shrugged as she backed towards the seat. “Then I’ll be fine.”

______________________________________________________________

“Keep your knees bent. Knees bent, Steve -- fucking Christ.”

“Shut up, Henderson,” Steve hollered back as best he could without toppling himself over. He looked like a baby deer on ice. You’d started calling him Bambi and he’d threatened to never drive you anywhere ever again. Robin laughed so hard she’d nearly fallen over, and you’d had to grab her under the armpits to stop her from hitting the deck. Then Steve laughed so hard he did fall over, and Dusin had to take several prolonged minutes to catch his breath and wipe the tears from his eyes when the whole ordeal was over.

You grinned as you passed Steve, who squinted his eyes at you in a way that suggested if he didn’t have wheels strapped to his feet, you’d be in a headlock right about now. It also probably helped that you were the main reason Robin wasn’t on her ass. In her words, “I’ve got about as much coordination as a newborn giraffe. Probably less.” She hadn’t let go of your hand since you’d entered the rink, her knuckles white and her palm sweaty. It was probably one of the few places, you realized, where the two of you could hold hands like this without getting odd looks. Plenty of people were helping each other stay upright -- it hardly mattered that you and Robin were touching.

It was nice. God, it was nice -- even when you were both sweaty, and the rink was crowded, and Robin looked like she was doing the monster mash trying to keep herself balanced. You giggled at the thought.

“What?” she managed to look at you without tripping over her own feet.

“You look adorable,” you murmured, leaning to bump your forehead on her shoulder because outright kissing her like you wanted to wouldn’t have gone down well.

“You look adorable,” she shot back, wrinkling her nose with a grin. “Also, how are you so good at this?”

You shrugged. “I’ve got good balance.”

Risking life and limb, Robin skated closer until she was nearly pressed against your side.

“My girlfriend’s multi-talented,” she whispered in your ear, wiggling her eyebrows when you looked up at her. You tried to keep yourself from burning up.

“I have to pee,” you suddenly said.

Robin looked at you for a moment, then glanced around. “I, uh, guess I should help you to the bathroom, right?”

“I mean… Peeing on wheels is dangerous business.”

Her eyes lit up with the realization followed by a mischievous smile, and then she was pulling you towards the rink’s exit, ignoring the other skaters as they dodged around you.

“Hey,” you heard a familiar voice call. You tilted your heels and spun around.

“Holy shit,” Robin muttered, grabbing onto your arm in alarm -- as if she’d be able to hold you up. No, the gesture was more like a commitment to going down with you.

“So what, you guys’re just gonna leave me?” Steve yelled, and then his arms flew up as the effort of yelling nearly knocked him on his ass for the dozenth time that night.

“Bathroom,” you yelled back, pointing towards the door in the corner of the large room. “Besides, Dustin’s taking great care of you.”

“Finally,” the kid announced. “Some of the respect I deserve. I like her,” he turned to Steve. “She’s way better than you.”

“Oh, oh really, okay,” Steve muttered, pulling a face before dodging sideways and trying to push Dustin over. The younger boy yelled, but he was grinning. You smiled after them, and when you turned to find Robin again, she was watching you, something soft and distinctly happy on her face.

“So, uh… bathroom?” you murmured.

“Oh, uh… yes. Bathroom,” she replied.

It was more of an ordeal than you’d expected, getting inside the small room without being dismembered by the sink or beheaded by the stall doors. The slight slope in the floor was enough to make you unsteady, and Robin, her cheeks flushed red, looked like she was seriously considering the possibilities of an afterlife. But you managed, mostly by holding onto each other in a death grip. You were surprised neither of you had lost an eye by the time you determined that the bathroom was empty.

And as soon as you did that, you found your back against the wall. Robin was holding onto the sink -- the only reason she’d been able to push you backward -- and she was smiling at your lips. With eyes half-lidded and breath coming in short puffs that moved the strands of her frizzy hair, she leaned forward and kissed you. Her lips were hot and soft, and they tasted like the chapstick you kept in your work apron. You hummed, wrapping an arm around her neck.

“I,” she said, ducking back slightly. You opened your eyes to look into her soft blue ones. “I probably smell really bad right now. Like, a serious B.O. situation going on--”

You laughed, quickly shaking your head.

“No, no -- you just… you smell like you. Good,” you clarified. “You smell good…” Inching your nose into her hair, you managed to convince her.

“I’m so glad you exist,” she whispered against your cheek. “And that you’re, like, a goddess on skates, because otherwise I’m pretty sure I’d be dead by now.”

“Oof,” you winced, leaning back enough that you could smile, but not so far that your noses couldn’t touch. “‘A goddess?’ I don’t know…”

“I do. It’s definitely hot.”

You breathed out a small laugh, glancing at your feet, at the way Robin’s leg had braced against your thigh. You didn’t know what to say, so you lifted your hands to the waistband of her shorts, letting them play with the belt loops before sliding your fingers gently up her waist.

Eyes wandering slowly across your face, she’d just opened her mouth when there was a sudden noise from outside the bathroom. Pushing off of you, Robin spun in a circle like a rabbit caught in a trap. Acting on instinct, you reached out and caught her with one hand while flipping on the sink with the other -- just in time for Joyce to round the corner.

“Take it easy,” you said. “If the floor gets wet, we’re gonna have even bigger problems…” Laughing anxiously, you nodded toward the soap dispenser.

“Oh… oh right,” realization flitted across her face and she reached around you to stick her hands under the stream of water. She was still unsteady, though, and you grabbed her waist with both hands, this time just to steady her. Turning over your shoulder, you glanced at Joyce.

“You both are braver than me,” she said, smirking kindly. “Could never get me on a pair of those things. Not anymore…”

You smiled, the panic rushing out of your body.

“Yeah, it’s… an acquired skill,” you managed.

“I haven’t acquired it,” Robin added, and then she stiffened as she almost lost her balance again. Your hold on her waist kept her from falling.

“Well, it seems like you’re both doing great,” Joyce said, smiling again before ducking into a stall. You let out a breath as you turned to glance at Robin. Nothing was said, but you both could see it in each other’s eyes, how close of a call that had been. Even though Joyce seemed nice, you didn’t want to take any chances. At the very least, you didn’t want to have to try and explain what you and Robin had between each other to anyone else. It was yours, and you wanted to keep it that way.

“Ready?” you breathed, hand sliding around to the small of her back -- more of a comforting gesture than anything. Maybe for her, maybe for you.

“Yeah,” she nodded, grabbing your hand. She gave it a squeeze and a little shake, and it made your insides feel just as good as when she kissed you. Everything Robin did made you feel loved.

Which even included having to hold her tall frame up as you both wobbled your way out of the bathroom.

“We're lucky no one’s lost an eye,” she said.

“I was just thinking that,” you laughed and held her hand tighter.

“Heya,” a voice droned past you, and you looked up in time to see Eddie spin on his wheels and coast backward, two cans of soda in hand. “How’s it going, nerds?”

“This is what happens when he hangs out with Erica. He gets even more annoying than usual,” Robin explained, leaning into you so she didn’t have to yell over the music and clatter of skates.

“Ouch?” Eddie announced, clutching a hand to his chest.

“We’re good,” you said, ignoring Robin with a smirk. “Well, we almost died in the bathroom, but other than that.”

“Oh, the bathroom, eh? And of course, you needed a partner for that perilous journey…”

“Exactly.”

“Didn’t you hear the part about us almost dying?” Robin said, wobbling again. “If it wasn’t for her I’m pretty sure you’d have to wheel me out on a gurney.”

“Uh-huh,” Eddie squinted, but then he lifted his hands and shrugged. “As long as you’re being safe.”

“Shut up,” you grinned, rolling your eyes.

A smile tugged at Eddie’s lips, and then he was whipping around and hooking his arm over your shoulder, holding the opened soda can up and out of the way enough that, when a few splashes escaped, they landed on the floor and not on you as he pulled you into him a planted a kiss on your cheek.

“Take care of our girl, hot wheels,” he said, and then he was coasting away, lifting a can in parting without even looking back.

“He’s such a dork.” Robin announced.

“He’s a total sweetheart,” you replied. She looked over at you, then smiled.

“Whaddya say, hot wheels. Should we hit the floor?”

“Well, let’s not hit it too hard.”

Robin’s face scrunched with a grin and she nuzzled her adorably wrinkled nose into your ear before tugging you toward the rink.

______________________________________________________________

“So, do you like, skate a lot?”

“Well, not a lot. I used to, when I was younger, but not as much anymore.”

“You’re pretty good at it.”

“Thanks,” you smiled softly.

The redhead -- Max, you were pretty sure her name was -- had reluctantly worked her way over to you. Robin was in your line of sight, waving occasionally from the center where she and Steve were skating in smaller circles. Erica was with them, coaching them better than any gym teacher you’d ever seen and, even though they both made sure to very loudly voice their complaints, it was actually helping. Steve hadn’t fallen for a solid ten minutes now, and Robin was finally looking less like a falling tree. You thought maybe Erica seemed proud -- when she was sure neither Robin nor Steve was looking.

You’d stayed on the outside, coasting leisurely while watching the people skating around you. In the crowd, you recognized friends and strangers alike, and people that fell somewhere between the two. You’d thought the kid had maybe been watching you, but you weren’t sure until she came racing by, hitting the brakes moments before sailing past you. Her first few sentences had been awkward -- stilted, like she hadn’t really decided that she wanted to do this but was doing it anyway. You tried to seem casual enough that she wouldn’t feel weird about it and found yourself letting out a breath when she relaxed into easy conversation.

“You definitely seem to know what you’re doing,” you said. “Do you skate a lot?”

“I skateboard.”

“Oh, cool!” you grinned. “I don’t think I’d be very good.”

“It just takes practice. I was pretty shit at it when I first started,” she shrugged. Then, very hesitantly. “I don’t know, you seem pretty average on wheels. It probably wouldn’t take you long to pick it up.”

“Do you skate at that bank in the park?”

“Yeah,” another hesitation. She glanced at you. “I could teach you sometime if you wanted. I mean, I’m not a teacher or anything,” she added in a rush, icing out her fluster with indifference. “But I could show you the basics or whatever.”

“Really?” you grinned wider. “Yeah, okay. Cool.”

“Cool,” Max nodded. Then, with an almost surprised glance in your direction, she skated off, catching up with Lucas, who gave her a mock shove in the shoulder. She grabbed his shoulders and pretended to shake him before he ducked out of her grip. Someone grabbed onto your shoulder. You turned around and Robin was there.

“Holy shit, that was exceptional. She, like, has this whole thing going on where she likes to seem all tough and it makes her pretend she doesn’t like anyone even when she does.”

“I like her,” you said. Robin smiled.

“Me too. She--”

“Robin!” Steve yelled from across the room, voice raising in both volume and octave as he flailed toward you.

She took a breath to yell something back -- probably “What are you yelling for so loud, dingus, can’t you use your inside voice” -- when Steve, half hunched over in a desperate attempt to not fall, pointed frantically toward the ceiling.

Robin’s eyebrows furrowed. “What--”

“Robin,” you gasped, grabbing her arm.

“Would someone kindly tell me what on Earth is-- Oh my god!”

“ABBA!” Steve yelled.

“ABBA,” she yelled back, grabbing your arm as Mamma Mia blared over the speakers.

“You can’t not dance to ABBA, but I might genuinely die so hold onto me, okay?”

You laughed, readjusting your grip on her enough that she didn’t faceplant as she began to wiggle around.

“Mamma Mia,” she sang, spinning around so she could face you head-on. You gripped her hands tightly.

“Here I go again--”

“Woah, careful!”

“My, my, how can I resist you.”

“Mamma Mia,” Steve joined, coasting by -- nearly crashing into the wall.

“Does it show again, just how much I missed you.” Steve circled behind you as the two of them sang. You couldn’t stop smiling if you tried.

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie muttered as he slowly skated by. “This is truly a sad sight to see.”

Very slyly, you shot him a look. Then, throwing an arm around Robin’s shoulder, you sang nearly as loud as her and Steve.

“Yes, I've been brokenhearted. Blue since the day we parted. Why, why did I ever let you go?”

“Not you too.”

You just kept on singing, much to the delight of Steve, who seemed to be especially enjoying Eddie’s misery at the choice of music.

“It’s a roller rink, man,” Steve argued, shrugging. He’d gotten pretty decent on the skates, much to Eddie’s dismay. Less ammo. “They’re gonna play disco music.”

“Whatever. Just focus on not breaking your neck, okay Harrington.”

"Oh my god, do you think they'll play Dancing Queen?" he asked Robin.

"Eds, I can see the vein in your forehead popping."

"New girl, I need less of that and more--" he pulled a thinking face "--ehhh, emotional support. That's it." He hooked an arm around your neck. Robin had grabbed your hand. You hadn't noticed until now -- wondered if anyone else had. Didn't care.

It surprised you, but it felt good. Your insides felt all indigo and warm air and flowers woven into a crown. The lights blinked in a meadow across the floor. You rested your hand on Eddie's arm and squeezed Robin's with the other.

"I love you," Robin whispered, leaning closer.

"Insufferable," Eddie said with a big roll of his eyes and a little tug of your shoulders.

"Can you guys not hang off each other for like, five whole minutes?" a now familiar voice appeared just a moment before Dustin skated into view.

"You know what, Henderson?" Eddie pushed off of you and slid over to grab Dustin by the shoulders. "I've always been impressed by how much gall you can pack into such a tiny body."

"Ha ha."

“Seriously, though, how do you not explode?”

“Hey.” Robin’s voice was close. You took a moment before you looked at her, shivering at the feeling of her words and the memory of her lips. Then you turned, buckling under the weight that she held in your mind -- entirely too much; perfectly enough.

“Hey,” you replied, hushed, with a shy smile that you didn’t even think to control. Probably couldn’t, when it came to her.

“You okay?” she asked.

“Yeah,” you said. Then, “Well, almost.” You were getting tired, and your social battery had run out a while ago, and--

“It’s, like, really loud,” Robin said like she already knew everything you could ever tell her. Like she knew all the right ways to make it better.

“Yeah,” you whispered, smiling.

“You wanna get out of here?” she said -- dragged the words out slowly, glancing around, ocean blue eyes scanning the room before landing back on you. Always on you.

How were you this lucky to be the one that she came back to?

“Yeah,” you whispered, face aching.

Robin was steadier than she’d been the entire night as she led you toward the carpet. Everyone else around you was a blur, blending into yellow and blue streaks of sound and light and all that was inconsequential. And in your hand, Robin’s had grown warm. And somehow that didn’t matter because all the people around you were just as inconsequential as the blur. Your hips brushed hers as you untied your laces with quietly hasty fingers. And that warmth that had been in your hand came radiating off of Robin’s body. You didn’t even need to lean into it, it permeated your whole atmosphere.

The world felt so much smaller as you followed Robin to the booth at the back of the rink. The world felt just the right size. You left your skates on the counter, feeling unsteady now on your own two feet. But then Robin was there, always there, and her fingers were intertwining with yours, and you looked up at her and you knew without uncertainty that wherever you went in this life, however unsteady your feet grew, she’d always be there, and you’d always have just enough strength to find your way to her.

The two of you had the whole world.

And yet, it was sitting on a dumpster behind a run-down roller rink in nowhere Hawkins where you watched a sunset that felt too substantial to possibly be found anywhere else.

“I like your friends.” You broke the silence that had started with “You want to get out of here?” and lasted long enough to watch the yellow sun bleed down into orange, and then pink, and then purple. The sky was indigo now. It felt like home draped over your heads -- like the world had made this millions of years ago just for you where you were now. Like it had been waiting all this time for you to find it. A million and nineteen-something years.

“Oh.” Robin broke her own silence with a sigh. And with that, you were together -- a million and nineteen-something years in the making. “I’m glad,” she said. “I was irrationally afraid that you’d, like, totally hate them, or find out that they’re completely crazy and then decide you want to bail, or… something.” She chuckled nervously, her eyes finding yours, still reflecting the last bits of the sky’s color.

The sunsets always lasted longer in Robin’s eyes.

“There’s nothing,” you said like it was a full answer. Maybe it was. “There’s nothing that could ever make me want to bail, or… anything.”

You watched the tides of Robin’s eyes shift as she watched you -- ocean spray turning to dark waves and blue depths. And it was the same as the sound of crickets, far off from where you were now, away in the forest that had first held the two of you close, and it was the same as the buzz of the pavement settling under the indigo sky that held you now. Everywhere you went, there was something that knit you together. Here, outside a roller rink in nowhere Hawkins that was bursting at the seams with warmth and life and love, it was your lips.

She didn’t always kiss you slowly, but when she did, it was often under the light of a sunset, or the beams of the moon, or the glow of pool lights settled just below the water. And when she did, you found it ineluctable in you to not reach forward and feel the reflections that had settled on her cheeks. She could make any sharp light soft. She made the roughness of your fingers feel alive and ancient until her freckles and your fingerprints became one and the same.

“I’m glad you’re alive,” you said, eyelashes brushing her cheek. Robin smiled.

“Right back at you, Earth girl,” she murmured. Reaching onto your lap, she sought out your hand and hooked your pinkies together.

You took a deep breath. It was filled with the smell of asphalt and dirt and the berry shampoo in Robin’s hair. Pulling one leg up onto the dumpster and crossing it under the other, you leaned toward Robin until your temple rested on her shoulder. The sky was glowing, and the air smelled like summer. It felt like the whole world belonged to you -- like no one else was here. Like nothing else mattered beyond the connection between your pinkies.

“‘M I interrupting something?”

Neither of you panicked at the familiar voice. Instead, you turned to find Eddie walking into the orbit of your world, his hands stuffed in his pockets and a soft smile on his face.

“Don’t you usually,” Robin answered, lacking malice.

“Hi, Eds,” you said because it felt right.

“Mind if I sit?”

Robin shook her head a second before you did. Eddie hopped up next to her.

“A dumpster. Romantic.”

“Said the guy who brought Steve that old sweatshirt like a cat dropping a dead bird on a porch.”

“Hey. That sweatshirt is a piece of Metallica history, Buckley, and you’ll show it some respect.”

“You’re such a dingus, dingus.”

“Yeah, yeah, tell me about it.”

The three of you sat in silence. Eddie knocked his knee against Robin’s. She knocked hers back.

“Hey,” Steve rounded the corner. “What the hell are you guys doing, I’ve been looking for you for like twenty minutes,” he said, lacking malice. Almost soft.

“Just admiring the sunset from this dumpster,” Eddie announced.

“Looks to me like you’re third-wheeling, Munson.”

“What? Never.”

“Yeah, I, uh… think we’re pretty far beyond third wheeling in this relationship, Steve,” Robin said. “Or even fourth wheeling.”

“We’re a package deal,” Eddie added. “Like collectibles.”

“Collectables,” Steve narrowed his eyes. “Yeah, okay sure. Well, when you guys are done being weird, I’m ready to go.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow indignantly before hauling himself to his feet and sauntering over to Steve.

“Don’t you have some infants to put to bed, Harrington?”

Steve pretended to bat him away before letting Eddie settle an arm around his neck.

“No. They do have parents, in case you missed that.” Everyone knew that it didn’t really matter. Steve looked after them like they were his own. Always would. “Anyway, they’re all spending the night at Byers’ place as a going away party or something.”

“Well then,” Eddie pulled him closer. “Looks like we have Mama Steve all to ourselves.”

Robin blew some hair out of her face and clapped loudly. Grinning, you hid your face in her shoulder and kicked your legs.

“Whatever, just don’t expect me to cook your dinner or do your laundry,” Steve muttered. Eddie shot forward to offer you and Robin each of his hands as you jumped off the dumpster.

“Don’t you do that anyway?” Robin asked, crinkling her nose.

“We love you, Steve,” you said, walking over to him -- he’d slowed down to let the three of you catch up -- and bumped your shoulder into his.

“Yeah, I don’t wanna hear it,” he said, but you could hear the way he was fighting a smirk, and when he wrapped an arm around your shoulder, you knew that the sentiment had been returned.

As the four of you made your way to Steve’s car, Robin skipped forward and grabbed your hand, lacing your fingers together. From the other side of the parking lot, the kids were all piling into Joyce and Hopper’s car.

“There’s no way that’s safe,” she commented.

“Clown car for sure,” Eddie said, taking a few exaggerated, floppy steps and honking an imaginary nose.”

“You’re the clown,” Steve muttered.

Bathed in a dark blue glow like the backdrop on a stage, someone reached above the car and waved. Dustin, maybe. Probably Dustin.

The four of you waved back.

Robin didn’t let go of your hand.

______________________________________________________________

No one was in the mood for swimming, but no one wanted to be inside either. Steve passed out a round of beers and then never got up to get any more. Unprompted, he said that his parents were supposed to be coming back in a few weeks.

“Summer’s almost over,” he said, staring at the can in his lap. Little droplets of perspiration clung to his fingertips, slid down the dark, shiny aluminum. “Still, I thought they’d be away longer.” He shrugged lamely. “There’s still time.”

"It'll probably be weird, not being the only one living here again, huh?" Robin murmured. You leaned your cheek onto her thigh. The skin was soft and warm, and every breath you took smelled like Robin, chlorine, and the sweet summer night air.

Steve looked up and glanced at Eddie, then at the two of you sitting across from him.

“Haven’t really felt like I was the only one living here, though,” he said with another shrug, like he was trying to shut the conversation down before it got too far.

All three of you knew what he meant. You didn’t need to say anything to know that you were thinking the same thing. Eddie and Robin and you, you’d all spent as much time here as you could -- almost as much time as Steve. There had been countless nights where he and Eddie had shared a bed, or all four of you had fallen asleep in a pile in the living room; nights where you and Robin had camped out on Steve’s bedroom floor, feeling like you were kids again having a sleepover, gossiping about what you were going to do during summer break or what you wanted to be when you grew up.

But now you were grown up. High school was over forever; you all worked jobs, none of you had the aspirations nor the money for college, and you had no idea what lie for you beyond Hawkins. Sometimes you wondered if you even wanted to find out. Somehow you felt like no matter what you did, you’d always be a failure. In a lot of ways, you still felt like a kid sleeping on the floor of a friend’s bedroom with no worries bigger than what you were going to buy back-to-school shopping with your mom or which teachers you were going to get.

You wished you could pretend that the summer nights on Steve’s floor would last forever like you used to when you were a kid. Nights that glowed softly with streetlamps from outside open windows and warm breezes and the sound of crickets had always felt like, if you squinted just enough, focused your mind just enough, they would never end. You’d always been able to convince yourself that you could freeze them right then and there and nothing would change. A perpetual summer of sleeping on a friend’s bedroom floor. But things had changed, and you’d gotten older, and now the world expected something from you. Something you didn’t feel ready to give. Something none of you felt ready to give.

The world hadn’t given any of you a chance to be kids. Now, when it wanted you to be adults, you had no idea what to do. You were sinking.

“I wish we could stay like this forever,” you whispered, picking at the fabric of your pants. They were a pair of Steve’s flannels. Somehow, none of you had thought to start keeping a change of clothes at his house, despite how long this had been going on. Or maybe you had thought of it, and the thought had been ignored. “I wish we could always be together like this.”

The four of you taking on the world felt so much more bearable than facing it all by yourself.

“Then… fuck it." Eddie's voice joined the night. "Why don’t we?” All three of you looked at him and, after a moment, he looked back. “Yeah. I mean, fuck it. We’re already failures, if you ask any respectable resident of Hawkins--” he pulled a face. “So, why shouldn’t we stick together? What’s stopping us?”

You felt Robin’s hand slide down your neck to the center of your shoulder blades. Her palm was warm, and her leg where your cheek was pressed was warm.

“I mean,” Steve started, staring at the concrete but really looking somewhere far beyond it. “It’s not like I’ve got anything to lose besides you guys and a bunch of rugrats. King Steve is six feet under and turning fucking blue.”

“Yeah,” Robin said. You could feel her voice through her fingertips. “I never had much of a reputation anyway.”

In the silence, you all realized what was happening. A sort of pact made next to a glowing, mirror-surface pool, under a sky of dark indigo. Your only witnesses were the crickets and the stars and the echoing of a suburban neighborhood while everyone else was asleep.

And nothing else was said about it, about Eddie’s fuck it or Steve’s I don’t have anything to lose besides you guys, but the silence allowed all four of you to understand, almost suddenly, that nights like these didn’t have to stop. Not for Steve’s parents, not for anybody.

“Rent will be cheaper with four people,” Steve said, almost as an afterthought.

And that was that.

______________________________________________________________

Taglist: @alonezz , @gaysludge, @gray-cheese, @rare-breed-of-human, @vea-vea-vea, @lady-silkwing, @im-a-milf, @yourmanifestingbigsister, @bubbles0oo, @wormm-mom

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theladybarnes · 2 years ago

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DON’T YOU WANT ME, BABY? : CHAPTER NINE

“It's just a game. It's a game.”

▸ summary: a struggle emerges in the midst of trying to help stop the mind flayer ▸ characters: steve harrington, dustin henderson, the party + adults ▸ word count: 4.5k ▸ warnings: angst, jealously, hurt, :) ▸ series masterlist

Everyone regrouped into the kitchen after the sudden realization. Dustin brought out Will’s books, propping it open on the table with the page on full display. It honestly just looked like some sort of squid-humanoid with number stats at the side. Not really intimidating. But apparently it was the biggest lead the boys had on what you guys could be dealing with.

“The mind flayer.” he addressed around.

Hopper, who finally emerged from Joyce’s room, came over to see what the commotion was. Already there was annoyance evident on his face before he finally spoke. “What the hell is that?”

“It’s a monster from an unknown dimension. It’s so ancient that it doesn’t even know its true home. Okay, it enslaves races of other dimensions by taking over their brains using its highly-developed psionic powers.”

“Oh my God, none of this is real.” groaned Hopper. “This is a kids’ game.”

“No, it’s a manual. And it’s not for kids.” Dustin explained calmly. “And unless you know something that we don’t, this is the best metaphor–”

“Analogy.” Lucas corrected quickly. There’s a second of silence and you visibly wince. Because if anyone hates being correct, it’s definitely your cousin.

“Analogy? That’s what you’re worried about? FINE. An analogy for understanding whatever the hell this is.”

Nancy, ignoring the tension between the two, leaned forward to attempt to understand everything as she looked down at the book. “Okay, so this mind flamer thing–”

“Flayer. Mind flayer.”

“What does it want?”

“To conquer us, basically. It believes it’s the master race.”

“Like the Germans?” Steve asked.

You can’t help but frown at Steve’s question, glancing across from you just in time to see that Nancy is with a mirrored expression. Both of you seemed to wonder where that answer came from. Dustin was quick to correct him. “Uh, the Nazis?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, the Nazis.” Steve muttered, slightly embarrassed. Unfortunately, the question seemed to throw Dustin off a bit, making Hopper across the room grow more frustrated. You can’t help but feel a little protective over your cousin. Knowing that while tensions are high, he’s only just trying his best here. So, you carefully moved to stand closer behind him.

“Uh, yeah. If the Nazis were from another dimension, totally. Uh, it views other races, like us, as inferior to itself.”

“It wants to spread, take over other dimensions.” Mike added.

But not all members of the party approach this calmly, Lucas can’t seem to help burst out another important factor in all this. “We are talking about the destruction of our world as we know it.” The group shifts a bit, some growing more nervous than the others.

Steve is the first to openly freak out as he stands back from the table. “That’s great. That’s great. That’s really great. Jesus!”

“Come back, Harrington.” you frowned, reaching for his hand to pull him back in. He looked slightly overwhelmed with his lips pursed as you dragged him close again.

“Okay, so if this thing is like a brain that’s controlling everything, then if we kill it..” Nancy said, picking up the book for closer inspection.

“We kill everything it controls.” Mike finished.

“We win.”

“Theoretically.”

Hopper joined the girl at her side as he slowly took the book. Trying to read up the page for himself. “Great. So how do you kill this thing? Shoot it with Fireballs or something?” His sarcasm made you roll your eyes. Hating how he doesn’t give any sort of helpful feedback. Unfortunately the tone completely went over Dustin’s head’s and you wished you had reached out to shut him up for a second.

“No. No, no fire–no fireballs.” he chuckled, looking up at the older man. “Uh, you summon an undead army, uh, because..because zombies, you know, they don’t have brains. And the mind flayer, it..it likes brains.”

Hopper began to look over at Dustin incredulously as he attempted to reach back for the book. Moving around, you take your place before him. Doing your best to guard him from Hopper’s disapproving gaze.

“It’s just a game.” Dustin stammered. “It’s a game..”

“What the hell are we doing here?” cried out Hopper as he slapped the book on the table. A sudden rush of anger filled inside you and before you even realize it, you’re pointing your finger over to the Chief.

“I don’t know about you, Hopper. But some of us have been trying to figure out how to fight against these things all damn day! We even set up a base to lure it in!” you spat, feeling your face turn hot with the attention in the room. “I think things might be a little bit more helpful if you weren’t so damn sarcastic with these kids!”

Your tone caused Hopper to stop in place, turning slowly until his glare was focused on you now. People must have normally been intimidated by his hard gaze and stature, but with how much tension and emotion you’ve been feeling lately. You think you could take on the challenge of this face off.

“You don’t know what the hell we just went through, kid. What we had to do. So quit acting like you do!”

Shaking your head, you let out a sardonic laugh. “I think I’ve got a pretty damn good idea!” you retorted, pointing to the cut on your arm. “But at least I know better than to waste everyone’s time by being a sarcastic assho-” Your words are cut off by the sudden brush of a hand over your mouth.

“You do realize he’s still Chief of police, right?” Steve muttered into your ear. But you’re too upset with him to cool down. Pushing Steve’s hand off from your mouth, you attempt to march over but he’s got a pretty grip at holding you back. But that doesn’t stop you from running your mouth.

“He could be the goddamn president for all I care! That doesn’t give him a right to mock the only people around here trying to help!”

Dustin, who had been staring at you shocked, shook his head. Seeming to gain back his former confidence to join in. “Speaking of help. I thought we were waiting for your military backup!”

“We are!” barked Hopper.

“Even if they come, how are they gonna stop this?” Mike exclaimed. “You can’t just shoot this with guns!”

“You don’t know that! We don’t know anything!”

“We know it’s already killed everybody in that lab!”

“And we know the monsters are gonna molt again!” Lucas threw in.

“And we know that it’s only a matter of time before those tunnels reach this town.” Dustin finished. The boys are at their wits end and you can’t help but feel bad that their worries are being somewhat ignored by the only adult here.

That is until a tired voice joined in from the hall.

“They’re right.”

Everyone looked over to find Joyce. Her face looked tired with remnants of tears still etched around her eyes. It has you suddenly feeling guilty for causing such a shouting match in her home while she was trying to grieve. A silver lining was that she seemed to be on the same page as the kids.

“We have to kill it.” she urged. “I want to kill it.”

Hopper approached her slowly. Any hardness in his tone is gone as he carefully attempts to sway her opinion. “Me, too. Me, too, Joyce, okay? But how do we do that? We don’t exactly know what we’re dealing with here.”

“No. But he does.”

Mike stepped out of the kitchen towards Will. Looking at his friend with a sort of determination. “If anyone knows how to destroy this thing, it’s Will. He’s connected to it. He’ll know its weakness.”

“I thought we couldn’t trust him anymore.” Max recalled. “That he’s a spy for the mind flayer now.”

Mike pondered a second before the idea slowly came to him. “Yeah, but he can’t spy if he doesn’t know where he is.”

A plan was quickly thought up the moment Mike and Hopper stepped out back. The shed in the backyard was the perfect little box where Will could be concealed from the outside world. All it needed was just a little makeover.

So with that idea, tasks were quickly divided. Most of everyone was paired off. But Hopper, who was still a little miffed with your earlier outburst, happily assigned you to help lug pieces supplies back and forth from the house to the shed. Meanwhile, Steve and Nancy would begin to cover it up.

Something you were completely okay with at first. Until you began to notice just how focused Nancy was to Steve.

It’s not often you’re left feeling jealous. With the confidence you pushed out often enough, you’ve almost come to believe that you didn’t have any reason to be. It allowed you to focus on yourself instead of others and it worked for so long. But this felt different. With some of the events that happened today, this pulled out a whole other reaction. This was an angry green demodog trying to claw its way out of you.

How did you go all these months reacting to them normally? Why was it now, in the most urgent time, that you suddenly feel upset being around them? Even now, they’re only focusing on their work at hand. Barely sharing any words as they worked together. The guilt of looking at your friend wrong was creeping in on you.

But something about the way she continued to stare at him made your mind funny. Nancy up until now was seemingly over Steve. Especially with the way she looked at Jonathan. So why were her blue eyes focused on the boy beside her?

You’re about to step back into the shed when you hear the sound of Nancy’s voice clear enough since the group had been together in the kitchen.

“What you did, um, helping the kids. That was..really cool.”

“Yeah.” Steve replied coolly. “Those little shits are real trouble, you know?”

“Believe me, I know.” she chuckled.

The tarp in your hand felt heavy and suddenly you’re seeing red. But instead of doing the smart thing, like walking away and cooling off. You don’t. Instead, you step into the shed and catch the way Nancy is staring up at Steve again. Making your impulsiveness come out.

“I’m surprised you’re so aware, Nancy Drew.” you smiled. Feeling the familiar venom build up in your mouth. “Seeing as you ditched everyone for the past two days without so much as a phone call to check in on that brother you were so worried about.”

“Whoa, hey,” Steve started, looking down at you with a worried expression. “You don’t have to go there.”

“Oh? I don’t?” you chuckled lightly. “Because to me it looked like if she really wanted to help keep the kids safe, she’d have been here. Helping us figure out a way to kill the damn thing.” Glancing back at Nancy, you try to ignore the hurt expression on her face in order to keep your mocking one up.

Steve stepped down from the ladder, holding his hand up in front of you as he stepped closer. “C’mon, we both know she was just trying to find some answers..” It nearly made you sick to see him stick up for Nancy. Why was he bothering with that? Shouldn’t he be upset with her? She made him feel guilty over something that wasn’t in either of their hands, and ditched him a day later.

“I’m sorry, did I get hit on the head or something? Or am I the only one who remembers what made you so upset the other night?”

Nancy’s eyes widened and Steve ran a hand nervously through his hair as he continued to mutter your name quietly. “Look, we have work to do. Things can be talked about another time.” He reached back out to take your hand into his, squeezing gently like he did before on the bus. Like he’s trying to help ground you again.

“God,” you scoffed, pulling your hand from his. “You two really are something else.”

Both of them shared a confused look before you dropped all the materials in your hands to the ground. Your fight or flight senses were creeping in and instead of sticking around to make yourself look like an even bigger bitch, you decide it’s best to leave.

“Continue to enjoy the bullshit, Steve.”

Dashing out of the shed, you made your way towards the door to the house when a hand pulled you back. Steve, who came out to follow, was looking down at you with his eyes wide. “Do you want to tell me what the hell that was about?”

“Let me go!” you frowned, slapping his hand. But he didn’t let go, instead, he pulled you closer to him until he could place both hands at your shoulders. Keeping you in place as he leaned in.

“Relax.” He pressed, looking still so concerned with you. “Why are you so upset?”

“Because, Steve!” You said pushing him back a step. “What she did to you wasn’t okay and you’re just talking with her casually? Like nothing happened?”

“She was just thanking me for helping with the kids. We’ve barely spoken all night.”

You can’t really mention how it was mostly the way she stared at him that upset you. And even thinking that made you feel a little foolish. Steve wasn’t yours and you knew that but that didn’t stop your word vomit.

“She’s barely given you the time of day since that party! And up until tonight, she didn’t even bother to know where you were and if you were okay.”

There’s a hurt look across his face and you feel your stomach twist at the idea of making him feel worse. But you can’t just let him be walked over again.

“Look, I’m sorry.” you sighed, pushing your hair away from your face. “I know that..I’m being harsh. I don’t mean to make things worse. But I just don’t want—can’t see you get hurt again.”

He pressed his lips together, huffing out air through his nose while he took your words in. “I don’t see why you even care. I don’t. It’s over with..” He said, sounding a little bit too diffidently. It pulled out your frustrations again.

“Because, Steve.” You said as you moved back a step closer. “Believe it or not but someone actually gives a shit about you for once.”

The words are too honest and you’re scared to even admit that you are that someone. But Steve doesn’t seem to care as he stepped to stand in front of you. Looking downward with such concern it hurts to know he’s checking on you when you’ve just pointed out his shitty situation.

“You shouldn’t care.” Steve said. Voice a little defeated. “We’re not friends..you’ve told me that so many times.”

“I know.” You sighed, hating your past self for saying words that haunted you now. But truthfully, maybe you weren't supposed to be friends. Maybe it was always going to be different with Steve.

Reaching out, you placed your hand down on his chest. Feeling the beat of his heart strongly under the palm of your hand. Something about it draws you in, and before you know it. You’re leaning your head up and pressing your lips against his.

The familiar warmth of his pillowy lips against yours feels warm again and you can’t help but grasp at the collar of his jacket to pull him in and press him even harder against you.

Instead of pushing you away, like you thought Steve might do. He instead raised a hand up to cup the side of your face. Rubbing his thumb gently against your jaw as he kissed you back. The front of his hair tickled against your forehead but you ignored it to revel in the way he felt. It’s almost the same Earth shattering feeling you felt on the day of your doorstep. When you had to push him away.

Only now, you’re silently begging him to pull you in even closer.

When you’re in need of air, you pull back just a bit to allow yourself to avert your gaze. Keeping your eyes focused on his rising chest while you tried to think about how you could explain what you just did. But Steve had other plans, he reached out to grip the tip of your chin, making you look back up to him. Raising a brow in a silent question.

“We’re not friends.” You repeated, patting his chest lightly. “But maybe because I want to be more than that..” Backing up, you watch as his face turns from confused to stunned. There’s nothing else either of you could say and you wish that you had better courage to just say how you feel now. But there wasn’t time, and you give your back to Steve once again as you enter the house.

Things after that settled a lot more calmly after you worked with the kids. It was easier to just listen to their small chatter while you helped organize anyway. But soon enough everyone found their way back into the shed to finish up the work. You avoided the two pairs of eyes that seemed to be calling you. Focusing on keeping your hands busy until Joyce was eventually moving all the kids back inside the house.

The only ones who would be helping out Will was his family, Hopper, and Mike. Leaving the rest of you patiently waiting again.

From the kitchen window, Dustin seemed to grow more worried, shedding off his hat as he ran a hand through his curly locks. You can’t help but watch him carefully as he made his way to join you in the dining room.

“Hey,” you said softly, reaching out a hand to stop his pacing. The young boy looked at you curiously before relaxing a bit. “Sit down for a second.” you urged, pointing to the chair across from you.

He seemed hesitant for a moment, but sat down anyway, leaning his head into his hands as he looked down on the table. It’s now that you’ve gotten the reminder of how young all these guys are. How despite their tough exterior and harsh words, at the end of the day they’re all just worried over Will. Something they shouldn’t have to be at their age.

“You’ve been working pretty hard today.”

Dustin snapped his gaze up to look at you, giving a half shrug. “Yeah, well, Will’s a member of the party. We can’t just let the mind flayer get him.”

“I’m not just talking about Will.” Licking your lips, you recall all of the things you did with your cousin. “You’ve been helping with just about everything. From Dart, Will, even me.” you smiled, pointing to your arm.

“Oh,” he said shyly.

“Just want you to know that I think you’ve been pretty damn brave.” Extending your hand out, you give him a small smile.

He slowly reached out and laced his hand with yours, giving a small squeeze before he smiled back. It’s one of the nicer conversations you two have had in days and it’s kind of a relief to have such a normal moment.

“You’ve been pretty cool tonight.” He said softly.

“Oh, just tonight?” you smirked, making him roll his eyes before he went on.

“I mean, you were pretty cool when you told off Hopper. It was kinda awesome.”

You can’t help but grin at that, feeling a small bit of pride swell inside of you at the idea of Dustin thinking of you so positively. Shrugging casually, you leaned over the table to give him a wink. “We’re Hendersons. No one gets to mess with us.”

“Hell yeah,” Dustin chirped, squeezing your hand. “No one.” he confirmed.

You get the feeling of someone watching and turn your gaze past Dustin to the living room. Steve, who was lazily swinging his bat now and stopped his movements to lean against the archway. A small, amused, smile was slowly tugged at his lips.

Before you could say anything about that, the lights all around the house began to flicker. Making all the three of you nearest to the kitchen jump towards the window. This whole thing is a painful reminder about how the monster came out of the wall last year with the same light show.

“C’mon, Will.” you muttered quietly, hopeful for the kid to pull through.

The lights stop flickering but it’s not till a good couple of minutes later that Hopper and the rest of them push through the kitchen doors. He reaches for a pen and paper, and goes over to the table to write something down.

“What happened?” Dustin asked, moving with you to circle around him.

“I think he’s talking,” sighed Hopper. “Just not with words.”

The paper is quickly filled up with what looked like dots and lines. Something you feel like you’ve seen before, but can’t quite place it. Steve is the first one to voice out the question on the tip of your tongue. “What is that?”

The party, always with the most random knowledge, answered back in unison. “Morse code.”

“H-E-R-E.” read out Hopper.

“Here.” Everyone replied.

“Will is still in there.” Concluded Hopper, looking around everyone. “He’s talking to us..”

The group quickly moved around to gather up the next set of supplies. You quickly go through the stack of papers in Will’s room and find a paper and pencil and head to the kitchen table to join the others. Placing the supplies down, you stand behind Dustin and watch as he and his friends use a morse code guide to help translate the message being sent through the walkie from Hopper. Nancy finished the last step with writing down the letters given onto another pad.

It’s not long until the message is finished. All of you moved to look over Nancy as she held the pad in front of everyone.

CLOSE GATE.

The phone suddenly began to ring. Making all of you jump in place. Dustin rushed over and slammed on the phone repeatedly until it stopped. There’s a breath of relief until it began to ring again. Nancy decided to stop it this time by completely tearing the thing off the wall.

“Do you think he heard that?” Max asked.

You can’t help but be skeptical at the idea of someone not recognizing the sound of their house phone. But maybe with Will being all the way out to the shed, there was a chance he didn’t hear it.

“It’s just a phone.” Steve pointed out. “It could be anywhere. Right?”

All of you are given an answer when a loud screeching echoed in from the distance. You all take a step towards the living room window. A familiar chill comes up your back again as you look down to your arm.

“That’s not good.” Dustin said softly.

Immediately the others come inside the house, moving to hide an unconscious Will in his room while the kids all keep watch at the window. You run through Jonathan’s room in hopes to find something to arm yourself with.

“Hey, come on, we need you out here.” Steve said, coming inside to get you.

“I-I can’t. I don’t have anything to fight with.” you panicked, trying to find anything to use as a blunt object. “Why the hell did Jonathan take up photography? I need a weapon not a goddamn film strip!”

Steve doesn’t let you linger as he takes your hand to drag you back towards the others. “Just watch the kids, I got you.” he said urgently, pushing you to stand behind him with Dustin. The others are all gathering around, letting Hopper, Steve, Nancy, and even Mike take the front lines.

Lucas is doing his best to watch the side by covering Max with his slingshot. Jonathan is being held tightly by Joyce and Dustin is reached out to hold your hand again. You leaned forward and tugged down at Steve’s sleeve until he looked back at you.

“Be careful.” you warned.

He nodded his head quickly, holding back a smile before he returned his focus to the windows. The sounds of the screeching grew louder the more seconds went by. A part of you is worried about how many might have heard the distress signal. At the bus there had to be at least half a dozen. But what if there was more by now? How many had been growing this whole time?

“Where are they?” called out Max, reaching out to hold your other hand. The slight panic in her tone has you reaching your arms out to help push the kids behind you. Lucas stubbornly stayed at your side, keeping his shot in place.

There’s a loud gargled roar to the right and everyone turned together to face that direction. There’s a thud against the wall of the house and you tried to think about what kind of tactics the demodogs could be using this time.

“What are they doing? Nancy asked, keeping her gun high.

“They’re scaling the house for another ambush.” you gritted, feeling your heartbeat in your throat.

The noises by now are moving all around the house, giving no one a clear spot of where to ready their aim. It’s horribly daunting and you really wish you grip tightly to those around you as the noises seem to grow louder.

There’s a sudden whimpering sound, making all of you hold your breath.

“What the hell was that?” you hissed, just before the body of a demodog came crashing through the windows. All of you let out a guttural scream before staggering back together. There isn’t any movement for a moment, all the weapons are aimed at the dog on the floor.

You peer over the kids, looking at the creature, waiting for it to suddenly turn around and open its face open at the group. But it doesn’t. It’s still on the floor, unmoving, with no visible signs of life left in it.

“Holy shit.” Dustin muttered. Letting you go to take a look for himself. In fact, all of you move in closer. Taking small steps behind Hopper.

“Is it dead?” Max asked.

Hopper kept his shot on him while he used his boot to tap against the head. It’s gross but the body simply sagged back down. It was most definitely dead. But there were no signs of bullet shots, stab wounds, or even bite marks from a possible animal. So what the hell killed it?

A creaking noise came from the front door, and all the attention was faced that way. As if moving on its own, the locks began to twist and turn on the door. Everyone’s guard returns back up and you brace for whatever is about to step foot inside.

She entered inside slowly, taking a careful step in before her face became clear in the light.

“Holy shit.” you gasped because standing by the doorway was none other than El. Back from the dead.

a/n: WOO! We’re almost done with this season. I hope you guys are excited for the ending.

#steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #Steve Harrington x female reader #steve harrington x henderson!reader #stranger things fic #dywmb

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voraciousvore · 1 year ago

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In the Belly of the Giant (35/39)

***Contains soft vore***

Chapter 35

When Ray came to work the next morning, he was surprised to see that Joey wasn’t there. Joey had become a nearly permanent resident of the police station since his girlfriend’s abduction. Even if he went home to sleep after a late night, he was usually at work early the next day, before Ray arrived. Ray thought back to the prior day, when he had found Joey sound asleep at the computer desk. Perhaps he had slept through his alarm, or forgot to set it? Ray felt a bit unsettled but decided to give Joey some time. It was out of character for Joey to run late, but it happened to everyone at some point.

Ray poured himself some coffee and settled in for the morning briefing. His mind was distracted, however. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. After the meeting, when his work buddy still hadn’t showed up, Ray tried to call his phone. The call went straight to voicemail, which was even more unusual. Joey never turned off his phone. Ray went to the parking garage, got in his police car, and drove to Joey’s apartment building to check on him. Joey wasn’t there.

Ray was beginning to get concerned. If Joey wasn’t at the police station or his home, where else could he be? Maybe at Mr. Henderson’s house? As Ray was driving back, he noticed some suspicious details outside the dental clinic where Eren used to work. He parked his car and got out to investigate. There were dark skid marks on the road where a car had peeled off in a hurry. Upon closer inspection of the sidewalk, Ray found some droplets of red that appeared to be blood, freshly shed. There were also small shards of glass and debris that looked like they may have come from a smashed phone. He conjectured some sort of scuffle must have occurred here recently.

Ray knew Joey usually walked home after work. This stretch of sidewalk was a part of his route. He couldn’t be certain, but he suspected the evidence he found might be linked to Joey’s disappearance. He thought about the belligerent giant Trent that Joey said confronted him at the grocery store. If something bad had happened to Joey, Trent undoubtedly would have been involved.

Just in case, Ray figured he ought to check a few more places that Joey frequented. His first stop would be Mr. Henderson’s residence. Since Ray had driven Joey there just the other day, he knew the location. He hopped in his police cruiser and headed over. Ray hoped, for Joey’s sake, that his hunch was wrong, and Joey was perfectly fine. If Trent had in fact attacked Joey, Ray wasn’t sure if he would be able to track the criminal down, considering they had hit a dead end yesterday when trying to find him. He pushed his foot down on the gas and picked up the pace.

While Ray was trying to find Joey, Trent was passed out in bed. After his long night of excitement and fun, he had pumped his veins full of drugs and sallied forth into dreamland. He didn’t rise until the early afternoon. His prisoners, on the other hand, were awake with anxiety. Joey, still tied up and gagged, squirmed and moaned softly with discomfort as fearless roaches crawled over him in the dimly lit apartment. His face was bruised and swollen from Trent’s violence. Eren hated to see Joey in such a state, but she couldn’t look away as she pressed herself up to the glass. Her heart was sinking with hopelessness and dread. For so long, she had clung to the belief that Joey would rescue her. Now, her beloved knight in shining armor needed saving, and she couldn’t help him.

Her captivity had been horrible enough when she just had to worry about herself. Her fears that Trent would harm Joey were magnified by her awareness that Trent didn’t value his life in the same way he valued hers. She knew that Trent, despite torturing her and making her suffer, wanted to keep her alive. Essentially, he saw her as a living snack and a sex toy to play with and torment for his own gratification. But what was Joey to him? He couldn’t keep Joey trapped in his apartment forever and couldn’t eat him like a human. Joey was disposable to Trent, more so than Eren. When he was finished torturing Joey, he would kill his victim. Eren felt ill at this unsavory thought.

Trent finally stirred and sat up with a groan. He rubbed his eyes, looked at his prisoners, and grinned. He went up to Joey and tore off his gag. Joey coughed and stretched out his jaw. Trent gave him a hearty slap across his face and guffawed, then strolled to the kitchen to make some breakfast.

“Trent... I need to use the bathroom,” Joey sheepishly admitted in a hoarse voice.

Trent glared over at him. “I don’t give a fuck. Piss your pants for all I care.” After a moment, he seemed to reconsider. Although his apartment was dirty and smelly, he didn’t want it to reek of urine. He sighed. “Fine. Just don’t you dare try anything smart, you fucking fag, or else Eren will be the one paying for it.” He untied Joey from the chair, hooked his arm around his body, and hauled him to his feet. Since Joey’s legs were still tied up, Trent had to drag him into the bathroom. Once Joey relieved himself, Trent secured him tightly to the chair again, so he wouldn’t be able to squirm away. The entire time, Joey schemed for a way out, but he couldn’t do much with his arms and legs tied and his hands cuffed behind his back. Even if by some miracle he landed a blow on Trent, he wouldn’t have free use of his hands to incapacitate him or unlock Eren’s glass prison. He felt unbelievably powerless.

Trent scrambled some eggs and cheese using his filthy dishes and scarfed them down with buttered toast, ignoring the hungry looks of his prisoners. Joey’s stomach audibly growled. All he had eaten yesterday—besides involuntarily consuming his girlfriend—was the cinnamon roll Ray had provided him. He didn’t want to draw attention to himself by asking for food, but his own guts betrayed him. Trent looked up from his plate with irritation. An idea seemed to dawn on him, because his beastly green eyes gleamed and he gave Joey a mischievous grin, showing off his large teeth.

“Hungry, are you?” Trent asked, standing up out of his chair and prowling over. He planted his foot on the armrest of the chair and leaned on his knee, lowering his face close to Joey’s. Joey winced at the smell of his breath.

“N-n-no, not particularly,” Joey stammered, turning his eyes and face away. He didn’t want Trent to make him swallow Eren again. Once was bad enough.

Trent narrowed his eyes. “I don’t believe you. I think you need to eat.” He slapped his hand on Joey’s chest, grabbing something, and held it up in front of Joey’s face. Joey was appalled to see a huge cockroach, flailing its multitude of segmented legs in Trent’s fingers. “Bon appétit!” Trent shouted, stuffing the revolting creature in Joey’s mouth.

“Ugh!” Joey cried as he spat the insect out with a curse. Strings of saliva clung to his lips. “Ack! Gross!”

Trent snatched up the monstrous roach before it could scurry away. “Now, Joey, you don’t want me to hurt Eren, do you?” Joey looked up at him with fresh horror plainly written on his features. “Then be a good boy and eat your vegetables!” Trent forced the roach back into his mouth. Joey’s face puckered into a grimace, but he obediently swallowed the roach. He gasped and spat again with abhorrence, trying to rid his mouth of the offensive, bitter taste.

Trent was delighted by this new game. He hunted for more roaches. They weren’t hard to find, considering their legions. He found a nest of roaches under the bed and captured a few. Joey let out a pained groan as Trent pushed another roach through his lips. The bug crunched between his teeth in a gruesome burst of gross jelly. Joey nearly gagged but forced himself to gulp down what Trent wanted him to eat, in order to protect Eren. Trent continued force-feeding the ghastly creatures to his unfortunate victim, one by one. After about five or six, Joey’s face started to turn green. He looked like he wouldn’t be able to stomach any more without vomiting, but Trent showed no mercy, sliding another squirming cockroach through his saliva-soaked lips.

Eren couldn’t take it anymore. “Stop it, Trent! That’s enough!” Trent spun around and stomped over to her terrarium, shaking the glass around her with his thunderous footsteps. Eren shrank back as the colossal giant towered over her.

Trent’s eyes flashed with hatred and his voice dropped into a deadly serious, threatening tone as he placed his hands on the roof of her enclosure. “And just what are you going to do about it, shrimp?”

Eren shook and turned white as a sheet but didn’t back down. She was fed up with Trent’s cruelty. “Stop messing with him! It’s me you want, isn’t it?” She brandished her tiny little fist at him, calculating that if she provoked him, maybe he would leave Joey alone for a while. “You... you repulsive coward!”

Trent’s visage darkened. “Watch your mouth, you cheeky brat,” he snarled. “Here, if you don’t want Joey to eat these, I’ll let you have one!” He unlocked the lid and dropped the giant roach in with Eren. He expected her to shriek with fear and run away. Instead, Eren held her ground, even when the cockroach scuttled toward her and examined her with its antennae, tickling her bare skin. After being in Trent’s clutches for long enough, Eren had grown accustomed to the roaches. She knew they were harmless, especially if there was only a single roach, without hordes of its brethren.

Trent scowled. “Fine then, if that’s how it’s going to be,” he muttered, reaching his hand in to snatch Eren up. Despite her thrashing, he lifted her out and held her close to his lips. “Look at Joey. He’s probably going to throw up, isn’t he?” he whispered to her, hushed enough so that Joey couldn’t hear. Indeed, when Eren peeked over, Joey was taking deep, heaving breaths, like he was struggling not to expel the contents of his stomach all over himself. His face was a sickly shade of gray and he was sweating.

“I bet if he swallows you, he won’t be able to keep you down,” the giant continued. Eren cringed away from his huge mouth as he spoke. “In fact, I’m so confident, I’m not even going to let you two take the pills!” He licked his teeth, inches from Eren’s head.

Eren’s eyes widened in horror and she began to tremble. “W-wait a second, Trent, that could kill me!” she protested. Trent smiled wider, baring his teeth. Without deigning to respond, he carried her over to Joey, concealing her entirely within his hand. She tried to yell but he squeezed his fist tightly around her, silencing her.

“Alright, Joey,” he announced, “I’ll tell you what. You eat one more roach, and I promise I’ll leave you two alone the rest of the day. I won’t hurt Eren either. Okay?” Joey looked up at him with a dazed, sickly expression, panting, and nodded dully. “Down the hatch!” Joey weakly opened his mouth. Trent pulled his head back, forcing his mouth open wider, and stuffed Eren as far back into his gullet as he could reach his fingers. Joey, assuming the writhing thing in his throat was another foul roach, quickly swallowed so he wouldn’t have to taste it. Eren didn’t even get a chance to scream or warn Joey before she was sucked down.

She descended through his narrow, crushing throat into the familiar hollow cavity below. Without the protection of the pill, she struggled to breathe through the acrid fumes. The acid made her skin tingle and she understood she would slowly be digested into a pulp if she stayed in his stomach for much longer. As the gastric juices churned around her, chunks of chitin and roach legs scraped against her skin. She needed to get out of there, fast. She swam blindly over to the stomach wall and banged against it, to alert Joey that she was inside him. Her conscious mind began to fade as hypoxia engulfed her, weakening her body.

On the outside, meanwhile, Trent burst out into peals of unhinged laughter, amused by his brilliant subterfuge. Joey glared at him sullenly, still fighting his rising nausea. At least that last cockroach hadn’t been as bad for him to swallow. It hadn’t scratched his throat with its carapace and legs, and had gone down smoothly, suspiciously so. He hoped Trent would keep his word about leaving Eren alone. He glanced at the terrarium. Oddly enough, it was empty except for a roach moving around, and the lid was off.

Joey looked back at Trent, puzzled. The other giant had his arms crossed, but clearly wasn’t holding anything in his hands. “W-where’s Eren?” Joey asked. Trent didn’t answer, but his savage grin deepened. Joey felt some small kicks in his belly. That feeling wasn’t from a roach. The realization slammed into him that he had swallowed Eren again, not a roach. The taps were frantic, spastic, not at all like the gentle strokes she gave him before. He hadn’t taken the pill. Joey started to panic. Her little movements were waning, becoming frailer and more sporadic. Joey didn’t know how much time he had, but he needed to act quickly.

“Oh god oh god oh god, she’s inside me! Trent, get the rope! Hurry!” Joey cried. Trent sat down on the edge of his mattress and folded his arms. “She’s going to die, Trent!” The other giant just watched him, eyebrow raised. Joey felt black horror claw at his guts as he relived his abysmal nightmare from the prior evening. He needed to get her out of his belly, as quickly as possible. He tried to harness the nausea he felt from eating roaches to force himself to throw up. Fortunately, the feeling was all too easy to bring up, since he had been repressing it earlier, and his stomach started to heave. He felt vomit rise in his throat until the vile liquid was pouring out of him and down his uniform. Among the partially digested cockroach body parts floating around in the puddle of puke on his chest was Eren’s unconscious body. Joey felt worse than ever. He prayed she was unhurt.

Trent plucked the tiny naked woman off Joey’s chest to examine her. “Huh,” he commented flippantly, “I guess she managed to survive after all. Interesting.” He went to the bathroom to wash her off so her skin wouldn’t get acid burns, leaving Joey to stew in his own vomit. As he ran the cold faucet water over her body, she regained consciousness and gasped for fresh air.

“Fuck you, Trent,” Eren cursed with venom.

“Anytime, darling,” Trent jeered back.

Chapter 36

Chapter 1

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