#not to mention that weird gaze from Mike…

[chirpsythismorning]

Will sitting on the icebox the whole drive back to Hawkins (20 HOURS) instead of just sitting next to El and Mike in the back was foreshadowing him distancing himself from them bc he thinks they want to be alone without him in the way sabotaging things

[lovebugism]

i adoreeee your sm!! would you write eddie x cheerleader!reader where they have their first time together? in his room in his trailer uwu? hurt/comfort 💕😭 and ofc she’s friends with the hellfire club and sits with them at their tableeee at the cafeteriaaa awwwgshsgsgsg

ty for requesting :D — a summary of the day after your first time with eddie munson (established relationship, brief hurt/comfort, cw for mentions of sex but no real smut | 0.9k)

bug's two year celebration ♡

You enter Hawkins High that morning with a subtle ache between your thighs. A distant panging from within you feel strangely proud of. A soreness that makes you feel brand new.

You spare a brief glance at Eddie from the corner of your eye. He hasn’t stopped smiling since he picked you up that morning (or since he dropped you off the evening before that). Your chest swells with a sparkling feeling. You bow your head to hide your smiling, but you can’t shake the feeling that everyone’s looking at you — that your deepest secrets have somehow made the headlines of the school paper.

“I feel like everyone’s staring,” you admit in a whisper when the two of you pause at your adjoining lockers. Your words are nearly drowned out by the droning of a thousand conversations. Your hands shake with the lock.

“Of course they are,” Eddie scoffs, leaning against the forest green metal (‘cause it’s not like he carries his books around anyway). He grins down at your timid form and shrugs. “Why wouldn’t they be? Look at us.”

He chuckles under his breath and waits for you to laugh with him. You never do. You just duck your head and reach into your locker for a history book, more content to hide within its confines. Eddie burns.

“I— I didn’t tell anyone if that’s what you’re worried about,” he murmurs, more seriously now, as he takes a small step closer to you. 

“No, I know!” you blurt, gaze averted. “I just… I just feel sorta weird.”

“Like… Bad weird?”

“No! It’s— It’s not like that…” You don’t know how to put your swirling feelings into words, so you trail off and regret mentioning anything at all. 

Eddie watches you shut down before him. His chest pinches as he reaches for you.

“Hey… There’s nothing to be worried about, okay?” he coos to you with a wavering, crooked smile. “No one knows shit except the two of us— And trust me, I’m gonna be thinking about it all day—”

His attempts to make you laugh work this time.

You smack his shoulder with a quiet giggle, and he laughs harder at himself.

“I’m serious!” he says, cradling his arm.

“You’re annoying,” you correct, still smiling.

“What do you want me to do, huh?” Eddie croons. “I need something to think about until next time…”

You meet his boyish grin with narrowed eyes. “That is very presumptuous of you, Eddie Munson.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he laughs.

You shrug without a word and shut your locker with a soft clang.

Eddie’s smile fades as you walk away from him. “Wait— What does that mean?” he shouts to you, but receives no answer as you disappear into the bustling crowd.

—————

Alone at the Hellfire cafeteria table, you read silently and wait for the rest of the club to take their seats. Jeff is first, ‘cause his mom always packs his lunch. Dustin and Mike are second, and Eddie is third. Your boy arrives with a sudden kiss to your cheek that startles you for a fleeting moment.

“Missed you,” he mumbles in your ear.

“It’s been three hours,” you laugh.

Eddie follows you when you flinch away from him. “Yeah, tell me about it,” he croons, ducking down to press a kiss to your neck. Until you shove him away, at least, face burning at the blatant PDA in front of the rest of your friends. You turn back to your book and try to ignore their unwavering eyes.

“You guys are gross,” Dustin grumbles through a mouthful of fries.

Eddie slumps down in his seat at the head of the table. His lips curl into a lopsided smirk as he tilts his head. “You’re just jealous, Dusty-Bun.”

“Um, excuse me, but I have Suzie, in case you forgot. And she’s hotter than Pheobe Cates— I have nothing to be jealous of,” Dustin rambles, then flashes you an apologetic glance. “No offense.”

“None taken,” you murmur.

“Oh. Right,” Eddie nods, slow and sarcastic. “You mean your very real, not fake at all girlfriend?”

“She’s real!”

“You guys are acting clingier than usual,” Mike observes in his usual monotone.

Gareth arrives at the table then. His tray clatters as he sits down across from you. “It’s ‘cause they had sex,” he tells the raven-haired boy with a nonchalant shrug.

You freeze, breath catching as your heart drops to your stomach. You turn to Eddie with wide, uncertain eyes. You couldn’t hide your shock if you wanted.

Eddie’s face houses a similar horror. “I didn’t tell him. I swear.”

“You didn’t have to tell me,” Gareth scoffs and takes a too-big bite of his burger. His eyes flit between the two of you as he talks through the wad in his cheek. “I can practically smell it on you guys. You’re like a couple of cats in heat.”

“Well, only one cat would be in heat, so technically…” Dustin trails off at the glare Eddie gives him. “Sorry. Not helping.”

“It’s not a bad thing!” Gareth chuckles at his best friend’s simmering anger, ketchup clinging to the corner of his mouth. He slaps the boy on his leather-clad shoulder and says, “It’s about time you get laid, man— I was starting to worry.”

“Says the virgin,” Eddie quips and steals a fry from his tray.

You swat his other shoulder.

“What?” he winces playfully.

“You were a virgin, too, asshole,” Gareth grumbles.

“Yeah. I remember it like it was yesterday,” Eddie says within a whimsical sigh.

“That’s because it was yesterday, idiot.”

[ratridingaskateboard]

Always See Your Face

New girl! Reader x Eddie

Summary: There is a new girl at Hawkins and Dustin will do anything to make sure Eddie doesn't find out.

Warnings: slight sexual innuendos, cursing, mentions of drugs. Y/N is described!

A/N: Hi! This is the first time I have written a fic in a while but I hope you enjoy it! Depending on the feedback I get from this I might write more :) FYI perspectives in this story will change and will be indicated by: --

--

Dustin had always been one to have his friends' best interests in mind. He might have overstepped boundaries at times but he knew what was best for him and his friends. Even though Eddie was several years older than him, he still knew that the last thing Eddie needed in his life was a girlfriend. What if he started hanging out with her and Hellfire stopped existing? What would happen with his band? Everything would go to shit because some girl would grab his attention for 2 seconds.

Dustin found himself every morning before school sitting in the back of Eddie's van with the back doors open. Eddie let them sit in the back and read comics while he would perform his drug deals for the kids who had extracurricular activities after school. Dustin looked up from his X-Men to observe a car he had never seen before. Strange, but not uncommon to see until he saw a figure he had never seen before.

She dawned a black denim jacket adorned with several Metal and Punk bands that Dustin would not be able to recognize but had seen in Eddie's vast cassette collection. Her legs were barely covered by a short red plaid schoolgirl skirt and her chest was wrapped in a Sex Pistols T-shirt. She was bending down to seemingly grab her backpack from her backseat and several football douchebags whistled at the response of seeing her backside. This did not catch her attention though as she quickly grabbed her backpack and placed it on the roof of her car. She glanced at Dustin and he felt himself gulp. Fuck- He was staring at Eddie's dream girl. He frequently heard Eddie go on tangents that no girl in Hawkins had the same interests as him. Now he proved himself wrong- Dustin could prove it with his own eyes. Not only did she have his style but she had a pretty face similar to that of one of the girls from one of Eddie's porn mags that Dustin had unfortunately found in his van. They both shared the same long brown hair and doe-shaped eyes.

What was Dustin going to do? Not only was this girl weirded out by the amount of time Dustin had been ogling her but she could ruin everything. She did not even understand the power she possessed by simply existing in the wrong place and at the wrong time. He had to do everything in his power to make sure neither of them saw each other.

Dustin's feet started to jog in her direction as she had already begun her strut to the front entrance of the school. Before Dustin could get the chance to tap her shoulder, she swiftly turned to face him, discomfort shown in her face.

"Hey man, I would really enjoy it if you could leave me alone." She barked.

"No no no! I don't mean anything bad by following you. I'm sorry for staring at you earlier but um... Oh! The principal had actually sent me to give you a tour of the school and to show you where your classes are!" Dustin had secured a good enough lie to not seem like the creep he was presenting himself to be.

Her eyes widened and her gaze softened.

"Oh, okay." She smiled and Dustin could feel himself getting more anxious knowing that she was that pretty when she smiled.

The bell began to rang, signaling to every student that it was time for Hell to begin. Dustin heard a familiar voice call out to Mike and he swiftly grabbed her hand and pulled her into the school, making sure to avoid any possibly common route Eddie normally took.

"Can I see your schedule?" Dustin asked, giving out his hand eagerly.

It seemed like she could hear the annoyance in Dustin's words and swiftly pulled out the crumpled sheet of paper from her pocket and handed it to him. Dustin quickly looked over the paper and let out a sigh of relief. Even though she was a senior, she did not seem to have a single class with Eddie most likely because her classes were for the more advanced students.

"Okay, Y/N. This way!"

Dustin guided her to her first classroom, Mr. Stadford's Physics class, and said that he would meet up with her after her second. After the first period was over, Dustin ran to meet up with Y/N and to make sure he was able to beat her before she left the classroom. Yes, Eddie and her shared similar hallways for classes but Eddie had a tendency to be late to each and every class he went to. Alongside this, Dustin made sure that she was always early to her classes. This cycle repeated until lunch.

--

Y/N had found herself bound to the little curly-headed boy. She shouldn't say boy he was only a couple years younger than her. Moving was hard but going to a new school was even harder. Her parents' divorce could not have been more sudden and even though he had been a tad bit too eager, she really appreciated Dustin's kindness.

She frowned after exiting her third-period class to find no Dustin. Guess she would have to find the cafeteria by herself or simply follow the crowd that had corralled its way down the hall.

Once she entered the cafeteria, she felt the eyes on her, all over her. Thankfully, there were plenty of tables that had not recognized that fresh blood had entered their school. She saw a familiar head of curls bobble in laughter and she started her stride in his direction.

Once she had gotten to the table, it seemed to be filled with only boys all wearing the same T-shirt Dustin was wearing. She assumed it must be some sort of club he had not introduced her to yet. The majority of the boys had noticed her walk up to the table and she could tell they were not often approached by women. The only ones who hadn't noticed were Dustin and an older boy with long shaggy brown hair.

"Hey," She put her hand on Dustin's shoulder and her moved her head down to his level. "I know you showed me around and I might be asking for too much but is it alright if I sit with you?"

A look of dread filled Dustin's face as he looked up at her from his lunch. She had automatically assumed that he had felt bad for not escorting her to the lunch room.

"It's okay! I found the lunch room just fine." She rubbed his shoulder to put him at ease and sat down next to him.

There was nothing but silence.

She had felt as if she had sat at the wrong table and shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Dustin was still agape and didn't seem to have changed his expression even after her reassurance. She turned to view the other boys at the table. They stared at her with a sense of confusion and wonder but all too awkward to speak first.

Finally, she turned to the boy sitting at the end of the table. His gaze softened when she gazed at him. His eyes were wide also in shock from a stranger sitting at their table but there was something different in his expression that she couldn't quiet read. Embarrassment? No. Confusion? No. Longing? Maybe but not quite.

This silence was cut short by a food tray plopping on the other side of Dustin.

"Jesus, that line was long!" A boy with a bowl cut sighed.

"Where are you guys so quiet?" He looked around in disbelief but immediately found the source when he spotted the brunette sitting on the other side of Dustin.

"Hey." She waved.

--

A/N: Depending on how things go with this I will definitely continue this as a series. Lemme know your thoughts!

[0ceanic-cosm0s]

To the Hellfire - chapter 2

[Josh Washington x F! Reader]

6.1k words

masterlist - one - two - three

chapter wrote by @sharkology & @xghostcr0wx

⚠️chapter warnings⚠️

[mature language, mentions of self harm, mentions of mental health issues, sexual tension]

"What the hell were you doing on the trail with Em, huh?" Matt tilts his head waiting for a response from Mike. This is not what you were expecting before meeting the last friends of Josh.

"What?" Mike asks in confusion but Matt's glaring gaze doesn't go away.

"I saw you and Em. Through the telescope." Matt replied shortly with clear agitation. Now you know why Matt was in such a sour mood before you, Chris, and Sam got to the lodge. You were still sitting next to Josh by the fire watching everything unfold. You want to look over and see Josh's reaction, but before you could Mike responded to Matt.

"Before? We just ran into each other. It'd been a while so we hugged and I said hello. Is that against the law?" Mike asks in the most laid back tone, as if there wasn't much to be worried about. You honestly didn't know what to make of Mike yet. This interaction between Matt and Mike is kind of weird and you have yet to introduce yourself to the latter.

"Right.. Yeah, duh." Matt doesn't sound so convincing but he continues, "Sorry. It's been kind of a long day, I overreacted." You're glad it didn't continue and you hear a sigh of relief next to you, coming from Josh. You look at him and give him a reassuring pat on the shoulder, earning a small smile from him. You feel your throat dry a bit, reminding you of how little water you drank today. You remember Sam offered to hold your water bottle in her bag on the bus for you since it didn't fit in yours.

"I'll be right back, I'm going to get my water bottle from Sam." You inform Josh and he nods.

"Don't keep me waiting too long," He jokes and you give him a lazy smile.

Once you're over to Sam, who's sitting on the stairs near Chris and Ashley, she gives you back your water bottle.

A new girl you have yet to see walks in. 'Must be Matt's girlfriend?' you think to yourself. She was a beautiful girl with short black hair, dark eye makeup, a leather fur lined jacket, and some expensive jeans. Just from her presence you can tell she means business, giving off an intimidating aura. You definitely didn't want to get on her bad side.

Before you can thank Sam, you're interrupted by a voice from across the room. You look to see the girl everyone refers to by 'Em'.

"Oh my God. That's so gross." She says while walking into the main area of the lodge, crossing her arms, a clear look of disdain on her face directed at Jessica and Mike's PDA. "Are you trying to swallow his face whole?"

All you can think about is how weird this is becoming. You're pretty sure there's much to the story you're missing, either way you can't help but think about how much Josh's friend group doesn't really seem to be on good terms with each other. Clearly something to do with messy relationships and friendships thrown in.

"No one wants in on your territory hunny." Emily continues.

"Excuse me, did you say something?" Jessica asks with sass, puts a hand to her ear, and gets up from the couch.

"Oh did you not hear me? Was your sluttiness too loud?" Emily rhetorts.

"I'm sorry, was someone bitter she didn't make the cut?" Jessica countered. This is what causes you to get the bigger picture of the situation. You start to disassociate from what's going on, mostly waiting for this to be over. You look at Sam who's on your left, sitting on the stairs next to you and she just shakes her head in disappointment at the situation. At this point you're pretty much stuck where you are, because there's no way you're going to walk back to Josh during this cat fight. You aren't trying to get caught up in it.

"Whatever, I don't give a shit what you think." You hear from Jessica after you tune back into the conversation.

"At least I can think. 4.0, bitch. Honor roll." Emily claps back with no hesitation. Matt's interjections only make things worse and before it seems like everything's about to come to a climax, you see Josh stand up to break everything up.

"Stop it!" Josh yells which is enough to catch everyone's attention. "This is not why we came up here. This is not… helping. It's not what I wanted." His tone lowered, no longer yelling.

"If we can't get along for ten minutes then maybe we need a little bit of a break, right? Mike, why don't you go check out the guest cabin. The one I told you about."

You feel bad for Josh, it seemed like everything wasn't going the way he'd planned. It's a shame that there's still some unresolved tension in the friend group that can't be put aside for one night.

"Yeah...Yeah alright. " Mike says in agreement, clearly just going along with whatever. He holds his hand out to Jess. "You want to go do that?"

She takes his hand mumbling, "Any place without that whore." Then Jess and Mike leave the lodge.

Matt does a mind exploding motion with a vocal sound effect. "Man, glad that's over." He says and Josh agrees. You overhear something about Emily losing her designer bag, so she and Matt end up leaving the lodge to go find it.

You start talking with Sam while you were waiting for Josh, presumably giving Mike the keys to the cabin. You ask her what she has planned for the night and she mainly just wants to take a bath and relax, which you find understandable. Afterwards she takes her leave to start a bath, leaving you, Chris, and Ashley.

"Alright, peanut gallery, you know what? I got an idea for you two." Josh turns to Chris and Ashley.

"What?" Ashley asks curiously and you look at Josh, interested in what's going on.

"Okay well, I am pretty sure that somewhere in this crazy place we used to have.. a spirit board." Josh claims.

"A what?" Ashley inquired in a worried tone while Chris was asking if he was serious.

"Yeah they're fun, right?" Josh replies and grins in response, but there was no way you were going to mess with a spirit board.

"Josh, you're kidding! You're not actually gonna use that thing, right?" You push him on the shoulder and he just laughs at your worried antics. "You can't mess with those." You continue to tell him.

"No, those things are a joke, man. They don't do shit." Chris brushes it off.

"No way, bro. We used to do it all the time. Me and..." Josh's voice trails off, "Well-" He's cut off by Sam returning from the bathroom upstairs, and maybe it's for the best. You could tell that the conversation was slowly leaning towards a sensitive topic; his sisters.

"Hey Josh,” she catches his attention, “No hot water's kinda major oversight dontcha think?" Sam reaches the bottom of the stairs and walks over to the rest of the group.

"Yeah yeah, just gotta fire up the boiler, it's in the basement." He responds, "You guys see if you can find the spirit board." Josh suggests, giving Chris and Ashley the task.

"Chris, let's go find it! It'll be like a scavenger hunt!" Ashley exclaims with Chris following right behind her.

"Just wait upstairs in the bathroom and I'll get the boiler working for you." Josh tells Sam and she nods, thanking him. “[Y/n], would you mind helping?" He turns to you, his eyes capturing yours and making you feel instant nervousness. It was something small, but it was Josh asking you to help him. And it made you feel useful to him.

"Of course!" You say, but you felt like you sounded a little too enthusiastic. You didn't want to seem too incredibly down bad, even though you kind of were.

“Alright, rad.” He gives you his signature lopsided grin, and to your surprise, grabs your hand in his and leads you from behind him. Your heart thumps wildly and your stomach fills with nervousness but also excitement. His larger hands were rough-in a sort of comfortable way. You didn’t mind though. He squeezes your hand gently as you both begin to walk, and it makes your body ignite with eagerness.

His actions did confuse you though, making you wonder if this was just a friendly gesture to help guide you through the dimly lit lodge or maybe something more. You wanted to say something, anything, but decided to just let it happen. You wanted to enjoy the moment.

He heads over to a desk, and pulls out a flashlight while he talks, still holding your hand firmly, “Hey, notice how I gave Chris and Ash a mission together? Yeah, I was thinking they could use some ‘alone time’~” He says the last part in a somewhat suggestive way. You roll your eyes, not too surprised Josh would do something like that

“They do seem very sweet together, they’d make the cutest couple.” You reply. Josh nods to your words. “I swear they just need, like, something to bond over, ya know? Some sort of traumatic event to send them into each other's arms. I mean at this rate they’ll be in the geriatric ward before Chris makes a move.” You softly scoff at his words, and he starts to walk with you hand in hand in the direction to the basement doors.

But before you two head in, he stops in front of you for a brief moment, a slight hint of seriousness in his tone as he talks, “Ya know [Y/n]..”

“Yes, Josh?” You say in a hushed tone, looking up at him curiously. Your mind was spinning from the eye contact, and it didn’t help that his fingers were still intertwined with yours. You mentally try to calm yourself down as he starts to walk again and continues, “I just wanted to say.. I…” He trails off, huffing out a sigh. You grow a little worried at his actions.

“What?” You inquire. He stops you and turns to face you once more. “It really means a lot to me that everyone came back this year and you know, that..You agreed to come along. Even without knowing anything about these people and seeing how they were a bit ago..” Your heart swells with warmth at his words. The way he was so sincere made a small smile appear on your lips.

“Josh, we’re here for you. Whatever you need, whenever. Just let us know. You can make it through this. All of us, together.” You give his hand a reassuring squeeze, and he nods-continuing on down the stairs to the basement as he quietly responds. “Um, I just want us to have a good time, ya know?” You hum in acknowledgement.

You guys finally arrive at the breaker, and Josh lets go of your hand. You felt a small sting of disappointment from the loss of the heat between your guy’s palms, but you quickly brushed it off, reminding yourself it was most likely a friendly gesture.

“Hey sorry to drag you down into the bowels, I know it’s kinda dark and creepy.” He says as he leans down a bit with his flashlight, looking at the switches and buttons. You shrug, looking around at the old movie props and other stuff lying around. Probably from his dad. “Nah, it’s all good. I’d rather be stuck with you anyways.” You admit. He smiles, a playful glint in his eyes as he glances over. “Oh yeah? Did you have some sort of activities planned for us?” You scoff, gently smacking his shoulder.

“In your wildest dreams.” you say and he hums, looking back at the breaker with that adorable smirk.

“I mean they can get pretty wild, if you’d be a willing participant in them, Marbles?” He says jokingly, but there was a tone behind his words that suggested otherwise-though you didn’t pick it up. “Yeah right, you just keep dreaming.” You walk behind him, patting his back as you look around some more.

You spotted a baseball bat and grew curious of it, picking it up and swaying it around slowly. You turn to Josh with it. “Be pretty rough playing baseball out in all that snow.” He stands up straight and takes the bat from your hands as you gesture it to him.

“No it wasn’t in the winter, silly. I mean we’d come up for the summer and we would have the best time-the whole family was there Mom, Dad,…” His voice grew a little sad, and his expression dropped a bit as he continued, “... my sisters– It was some serious competition out there on the big lawn…I don’t know.”

Your smile fades to a small frown at his words, feeling a little guilty for picking up the baseball bat and having him talk about his sisters.

“Can’t go back..New reality, right [Y/n]?” You nod, and you want to say something, to at least comfort him-but he continues on and switches the subject quickly, putting down the bat. “Anyway, I’m supposed to be fixing this old guy, right?” He fiddled with the switches but no luck. He hands you the flashlight and you hold it for him as he fixes the breaker.

You were hearing some strange noises though, but thought it was just the old pipes in the lodge and ignored it, for now. Afterwards, Josh heads over to another switch panel and you follow.

“Alright just turn this knob for the water pressure while I flip the switch, think you can handle that?” You roll your [e/c] colored eyes at him, which he always found so cute; your little sassy side. “Pretty sure I can, I’m not five.”

He shrugs, walking back to the breaker. “Could’ve fooled me.” You shake your head at his snarky retort and turn the knob. Loud noises come from it once you hit the turn on button, signaling the boiler was up and running.

“Alright, good job Marbles! Gimme five.” You laugh as you give him a high five, finding it adorable yet the corniest thing. He closes the doors to the breaker, but again you hear a strange noise. “What the hell was that?” You question as you look towards the sounds. “Could be a lot of things..And none of them nice..” He says the last part in a deep sultry voice as he caresses and tickles your shoulder. It sent fiery shocks through your body at his touch, but you were a little scared.

“C’mon Josh, be for real.” You say as you turn to face him, slightly serious. “I’m just.. Just ’Joshing’ ya.” He jokes. You give a sarcastic laugh at him, earning a small one from him. “You were really freaked out huh?” You thought for a moment, thinking on what you should reply with. You decided to get back at him. You look over his shoulder, putting on a serious expression of worry and concern.

“Oh my God..” You whisper quietly. “Don’t move-“

“What?” He asks, mimicking your hushed tone.

“Something’s behind you..” He smirks, raising a brow in disbelief. “Yeah right.”

“Holy shit, Josh..Seriously. There’s something back there.” He slowly turns around, and you let out an amused laugh. He turns back to you and scoffs, a sweet smile on his lips. “Alright alright I see your point.” Just after he said that, another bang came from somewhere in the basement.

“Okay, so I’m not tripping. You hear that shit too?” Josh slowly moves in front of you, looking towards the area of where the sound is coming from. “Josh..?” You ask, a little nervous. “..What?” He retorts back.

“The rhythm is weirdly regular..” You whisper.

“Not..No..Nothing regular about it.” he responds back.

You walk closer to him from behind. “Maybe we should, you know, check it out?”

“Why?” He questions as you two cautiously walk over to the sound.

“I dunno, what if it’s like, a pipe that’s about to burst or some problem with the furnace?” You say, reaching out to his arm to hold for emotional support. You were getting a little freaked out, and needed something, anything to hold onto. “Unlikely.” He replies.

Josh pretended not to notice your hands wrapped around his arm, but on the inside his heart was racing rapidly, his anxiousness from your touch ought weighing the anxiousness from the mysterious banging. You responded, “If it were me I wouldn’t want this place to burn down on my watch.”

“..Yeah, right.” He replies. You let go of his arm and walk further to the strange sounds. And just then, a figure in a dark robe popped out of the corner. “NOPE!” You turn around so fast it almost makes you dizzy and sprint away, making sure to grab Josh’s hand in the process to drag him along with you. You two bolted from the stranger as they chased you, while you knocked down objects in front of them to slow them down.

You two made it to the door leading out of the basement, but for some reason it was locked? ”Now why the FUCK is this locked?” You yelled. “T-To keep out strangers!” Josh stuttered out. He turns around and protectively sticks his arm out in front of you as the clothed figure approaches you two.

“Hey..” It mumbles.

“..What?” You breathlessly question.

“Heyyy!” It repeats, sounding like a man’s voice. It was oddly familiar.

“..WHAT THE HELL??” You shout.

“Boom!” They removed the hood of their cloak, and it was Chris. “You just got monked!” He proclaimed proudly.

”WHAT??” You exclaimed, feeling your fear and shock turning into anger and frustration. Josh only chuckles, “Nice. Nice one, that was good.”

You stutter for a second, the anxiety you were having building up. “Why w..Why would you do that?” As you start to lay into Chris, you see out of the corner of your eye Josh looking you up and down. His green eyes drinking up your frantic form, and the way you were scared to death. It was almost like he enjoyed it. He bit his lip a little as he continued to stare at you while you tore Chris up like chopping up a fruit.

You try to ignore the way Josh is basically fantasizing about you right then and there and turn to him angrily. “Was your ass in on this putz??” You shove his shoulder slightly.

“Nope. But I wish I was! That was too fuckin’ good.” Chris and Josh high five each other, while you watched in irritation.

You guys opened the door and left. Your annoyed state calmed down a bit, and you started to reflect on the events of what happened. “Alright I’m ready to admit that your dumb little prank may have had a slight whiff of humor to it.” You say to Chris. “Jokemaster!” He exclaims back. As you two bicker, Josh locks the basement door.

“Well I said nothing about jokes, I said your prank, which was dumb-“ You continue but Josh cuts you off.

“Holy shit you were scared. Admit it.” Josh says as he places the flashlight on a desk. “I was NOT.” You protest. “Oh come on, you totally pissed yourself.” Your face was starting to get red from being flustered at being the only one who was actually the most freaked out.

You hear Sam call up from the bathroom, “Hot water’s running! Thanks guys.” Finally, you hear the voice of an angel, the only person who you could tolerate at this moment.

You and Josh call out a ‘You’re welcome’ to her as Chris and Ashley were talking to each other. You stand in front of the staircase while Josh tends to the fire. Ashley asks if Chris found the ‘thingy’ and he pulled out an ouija board from the robe he was wearing, making a goofy ass cartoon sound effect as he did.

You shake your head, “Nooope nope nope, I refuse to take part in that. You guys can have fun getting possessed and getting featured in the next Conjuring movie, but I’m out.” Chris laughs at your skittish behavior towards the board. “Aww, is someone getting scared again?”

“No, I’m being smart. It’s basic knowledge not to fuck with spirits. You’re not always gonna have Casper the friendly ghost come through. And this is Native land, so I’ll continue to be respectful of that thank you very MUCH.” Chris raises his hands in defense, turning back to Ashley.

You start your way up the staircase after grabbing your bag, but Josh really wanted you to stick around. As you make your way up the second floor, he jogs from the fireplace to the stairs, and to you, gently grabbing your arm. “Oh c’mon, you can’t be that freaked out [Y/n].” You huff, closing your eyes and lifting your head up in a mock snobby manner as you ignore him-continuing down the hallway to a vacant room.

“Wait-are you still mad?” He asks, following behind. You enter a cozy room, the moonlight casting a beautiful glow. You turn on the bedroom light and set your bag down as Josh joins you. “Matter of fact, I am. That ��prank’ scared me to death.” You reply and sit on the bed, removing your snow boots. He kneels down in front of you and helps remove your shoes, and you let him. It was the least he could do.

“Hey I know that was pretty terrifying, I mean hell I was scared there for a second. But that’s just how my friends and I are. We just like playing stupid and goofy tricks on each other. Sorry you got caught up in it, I should’ve warned you.” His gaze was focused on your shoelaces as he talked, untying them and then slipping off the boot-going to work on the next one. But you could tell he was sincere.

You give yourself a moment to take in the view of Josh kneeling before you, giving you thoughts that aren't innocent at all. It's almost like he's in a worshiping position, just for you. Once he is finished with your shoes, he leaves you with your socks, his beautiful green eyes looking up at you. You thought for a moment what it would've been like if he just kept going and started taking off your clothes, and from the looks of it Josh was thinking the same thing. But you knew his friends were out there waiting for him.

"It's okay, I just really scare easily. I may have overreacted a bit." You admit, trying to shake away the lewd thoughts from your mind. However, you couldn't help but stare at Josh's lips. You can only imagine what it would feel like kissing him.

“No, I get it. You were scared, it's understandable.” he gives you a smirk before adding on, “but I will keep the first thing you said in mind.”

“Hey, you ass!” You lightly kick him in the chest in a playful way and Josh just laughs at you.

“Seriously though, you really don't wanna join in on the spirit board?” Josh asks, rising from his kneeling position and now towering over you from where you sit on the bed.

“I don't know.. I'm scared of those things, like giving unknown evils a way into my life.” You bite your lip and look away, remembering all the horror movies, legends, and so-called rules of the ouija board that you've grown up hearing.

“Hey, it'll be fine. Nothing bad is going to happen. I've done it many times before.” He reassures you, putting a warm hand on your shoulder. You relish in the physical contact, craving more.

You ponder for a moment, wondering if you're really about to risk having a spirit haunt you over a hot man. But it's Josh, so how could you not give in?

“Alright, fine,” you relent and Josh lets out a childish ‘yesss!’, “I'm not going to play it though, I'll watch.” You add on at the end in a matter of fact tone.

“Okay okay that's fair,” He agrees, and you're glad he doesn't push you on it. Josh's hand that was once on your shoulder, glides down your arm to your hand, holding it in his. The feeling of his hand inconspicuously stoking down your arm sent shivers down your spine, making your stomach tingle with the need for more. You knew that Josh knew what he was doing. “Let's go.” He says, leading you up off the bed.

And Josh did know what he was doing. He has everything planned out, planned out as much as he could. Him kneeling on the ground to take off your shoes? He wanted a better look at you from below, in an intimate position. His light touches and stroking your arm? Hopefully it would send a big enough message that he's interested and down bad for you. He really does want you and from the looks of it, it seems like you're feeling it too.

When Josh was at the mental hospital, he just thought he was gonna be bored out of his mind and have to stay in that hellhole for a whole month with nothing to do besides having constant breakdowns and therapy sessions. But then you came along, and instantly he felt intrigued. You were breathtaking, even when you looked like you just got out of a fight with the embodiment of depression. You still had this vibe to you, like you still had this luring confidence and uniqueness to you under all that anxiety and suicidal thoughts.

As he grew to know you, he was even more infatuated. The way you would smile, the way your eyes would travel around while you disassociated, how your small little scratches to your arms would indicate that you were thinking of your self harm scars, he would take note and observe everything about you. He wanted you, he wanted to know everything going on in your head. And he wanted to know what you thought of him too. That’s why he invited you here, to his lodge.

Yes, he wanted to make all those fantasies he’s had about you come to real life after months of longing and having to stroke himself out to the thoughts to relieve his frustrations. But he also wanted to genuinely know more about you and your mentality. Overall, he just wanted time with you. He was, for the lack of a better word, obsessed with you.

With your hand in his, you both leave the guest room to regroup with Chris and Ashley. By the time you're in the room with him, Josh lets go of your hand and you find yourself craving more of his warmth.

“So you changed your mind?” Chris asks in a playful mocking tone, you just roll your eyes and smile.

“Nope, still not playing. But I'll watch.” You state and sit down at the table where the spirit board is getting set up. Josh is on your left, Chris is on your right, and Ashley is right across from you. You can't help but steal glances at Josh on your left, especially with how hot he looked with the candle light on him.

“To free yourself from the spirit world you must free your mind of all preconceptions, drop all inhibitions, and generally give yourself over entirely to the will of others, sublimating your every desire to the whims of the ‘spirit master’, which is me.” Chris reads the instructions but jokingly adds what he wants at the end.

“It doesn't say that.” Ashley responds to his antics.

“Aaanndd all present will remove their garments at my discretion-” Chris is cut off by Josh.

“Come on Chris, this is serious.”

“Oh I am deadly serious.” Chris says in a funny voice impression and puts his hands on his hips.

“Shush it, let's try this.” Ashley says, ready to get on with it and Josh adds a ‘Yes please’.

“Okay then, let's see what happens.” Chris surprisingly listens to them and continues, “Ashley, since you're a recent convert, why don't you be our medium for today?”

Even though you're just watching, you're starting to feel anxious and nervous about what could happen. You're worried if anything can happen to you from just being in the same room as people playing the spirit board. And you knew you were already making the wrong choice by choosing to put yourself around one. All those horror movies you grew up on really left an impression on you.

“Okay um.. Anyone there?” Ashley calls out, ”Will you reveal yourself to us… If you're there..?”

After a few seconds of waiting, you see the planchette start to move. “Oh my God, guys!” You exclaim and point in disbelief.

“Wait a minute.” Chris responds in a skeptical tone.

“Did you do that..?” Josh turns and asks Ashley but she immediately responds with denial.

“Oh it's moving again!” Chris comments before the planchette starts spelling out a word.

“H-” Ashley reads the first letter.

“Are you guys just messing around?” You ask, but your question remains unanswered. You aren't fully convinced, considering the jokes this friend group pulls on each other all the time.

“What's it spelling?” Josh is starting to sound more urgent, no longer emitting his laid back attitude which is starting to make you worry a bit more too. You shift in your chair from an uncomfortable and eerie feeling.

“Hold on-” Ashley tries to wait for the planchette to stop moving.

“How is this happening?” Josh continues sounding a bit more frantic, making you panic on the inside more. This is no longer feeling like a joke, and if it is one, it's a bad joke that's starting to mess with Josh. You thought Josh used spirit boards all the time?

“Are you moving it?” Chris asks as the planchette proceeds to move from letter to letter. He isn't convinced that this is actually real, probably due in part to not believing in the supernatural.

“I swear! It's just moving.” Ashley denied, but right as she said that, the word finished spelling.

“Holy shit…” Josh utters out and you sit in silent shock.

‘H - E - L - P’

“How are we supposed to help?” You questioned. you're clearly scared at this point, especially since it's your first experience with a spirit board.

“I don't know, what does it mean?” Ashley asks in response.

“We need to know who it is if we want to help them.” Chris adds on, and you look over to Josh to see his reaction which is unreadable at the moment.

“Who are you..?” Ashley questions the spirit board, waiting for an answer.

The pointer starts moving again and chaos ensues once more. Everyone started talking over each other in confusion, worry, and disbelief.

‘S - I - S - T - E - R’

This revelation makes your mouth open in shock. You don't know how to react so you just look over to Josh.

“Who’s sister?!” Josh asks in a firm voice, looking like he was trying to decipher what was going on.

“Oh c’mon is this for real?” Chris inquired, not believing what was going on.

“Shut up.” Josh snaps at Chris, “Ask who's sister.” You can tell Josh is getting serious, and you've never seen him in this type of way.

“Josh… it's.. it's gotta be-” Ashley is cut off but everyone here knows what she's insinuating.

“Yeah, okay well,” Josh turns to Ashley, “ask it which one!”

You put a comforting hand on Josh's knee. You don't know if it can really help, but it's the thought that counts, right? He gives you acknowledgment by sending a glance your way, almost analyzing your features.

“Ashley, ask who it is.” Chris says, dropping his playful attitude.

“Who are we speaking to…?” Ashley asks before continuing again, “Beth, is that you?”

Another wave of anxiety washes over you as you wait in anticipation. The planchette moves to confirm Beth's presence.

“Oh God.” Ashley utters in scared shock.

“This is messed up.” Chris shakes his head in disapproval.

“Josh, you don't need to play anymore..” You bring up, trying to get everyone out of the uncomfortable situation. Josh didn't look like he was doing too well.

“I'm fine.”

“Are you sure because we can stop-” Ashley is cut off by Josh, his eyes fixed at the spirit board.

“No.”

“Dude, it's cool-” Chris starts, but is interrupted before he can even suggest anything.

“I want to hear what it says.” Josh affirms, his eyes meeting Chris.

You're glad Chris and Ashley aren't trying to push him to continue playing, it's quite the opposite. However, you're surprised Josh wants to keep going in the first place. He's used spirit boards before though, so you assume it's for some sort of closure. His sisters are still technically missing, even though he told you he believes they’re dead.

“Think about it. If this is actually Beth, I mean, we can find out what happened that night.” Chris suggests.

“Beth… Oh Beth we want to apologize for what happened last year with Hannah and,” Ashley's voice starts breaking with sorrowful emotion, “if you can hear this, please please know that we are all so sorry.”

“You and Hannah. We're really sorry Beth, to both of you.” Chris adds on, taking accountability for something he had no control over and wasn't apart in.

You decide to stay silent. You didn't want to overstep any boundaries and you weren't involved with his sisters enough to have a say on anything. All you could do is observe and hope that anything doesn't trigger Josh in any way, but you think you're far past that point by now. His sisters were a triggering topic in general. The pointer starts to move again.

‘H - A - N - N - A - H K - I - L - L - E - D’

You let out an audible gasp, and Ashley follows suit. “I don't know if I can keep doing this.” Ashley admits.

“We have to.” Josh urges, not ready to give up just yet. You could tell this was important to him.

“Just- just stay calm. I think it's saying to us that someone killed Hannah..” Chris speculates.

Ashley asks how Hannah was killed. The tension in the room is thicker than ever and everyone seems to be on edge. The planchette spells out something about proof in the library before completely flying off board. You jump and let out a little yelp in response, covering your face to not get hit by it. Luckily, it flies past your face.

“You know what? This is bullshit. This isn't real.” Josh stands up from his chair with a distressed and shocked look on his face. He gives Chris and (mainly) Ashley an accusatory look. Probably because she was the only one out of all of them that was in on the prank last year. You stand up at the same time as him, ready to go after him if need be, but he doesn't pay too much mind to this, still freaked out by the current events. Hell, you don't even know if Chris and Ashley were joking. But from the looks of it, they wouldn't joke about something so serious. Especially such a touchy subject like his sisters. This had to be real.

“Josh, I don't know what's going on.” Ashley instantly claims and puts her hands up, voice shaky.

“Listen, I don't know– I don't know if you think messing with me is somehow going to help me deal with my grief or water but this is not cool.”

“Josh, no! You wanted to use the spirit board–” Ashley denies and tries to explain, but he clearly isn't having any of it.

“Josh..” You try to interject but It doesn't make too much of a difference.

“Hey calm down, it's not Ash’s fault.” Chris tries to reason with him to no avail, he's already making his way out of the room.

“I don't need this right now! Okay?! You guys are full of it!” Josh shouts, clearly upset before stomping down the stairs to leave the room.

“Should we go after him??” Ashley turns to ask you and Chris with a worried look.

“Don't worry about it, I got him.” You answered, gaining a nod from Chris and Ashley.

You leave down the same stairs Josh did, hoping to find him and somehow help. If he doesn't want help, you'll give him his space. You can hear Chris and Ashley’s discussion of the events that just took place growing further and further away as you look for Josh. You just hope you can make a difference.

[a/n]: next chapter is gonna be supper juicy and smutty so get ready 👌🏽

- 🦈&🦇

[the-case-book-of-fanfiction]

The Graduation Lineup

Ship: Steve Harrington x Henderson!reader

Summary: Billy Hargrove comes between you and Steve at graduation—but only by last name. Additionally, you finally find out Steve's middle name (among other things).

Word Count: 5,899 words

Warnings: Billy, Stancy mention, flashbacks (aka weird timeline/narration), little bit of self-pity from Steve, fluff

Note: Set in season 2! Also pretend Tommy's last name comes after Henderson so that you get stuck between him and Steve.

☟ Continue below the fold ☟

Graduation practice was held inside the school gym. You'd been there for an hour at least, waiting for it to start and then going through the list of names to get everyone in the right seat and spot in line. They were on F now. Your leg bounced where you sat, but from boredom, not from nerves. While everyone else was panicking about who they would have to sit next to for the entire ceremony, you knew who you would be next to—and you were happy with it. It was the same boy you were already sitting next to: Steve Harrington.

It was a little weird, you thought, that it all worked out so perfectly. That there were no other Hs separating Harrington and Henderson. That Harrington was the one you had gotten so close to over the past four years, but particularly close to in the last semester alone.

The vice principle got through the Fs and into the Gs. Soon.

"You alright?" he asked you, seeing your bouncing leg.

You nodded. "Just impatient."

Steve smirked, a signature King Steve smirk he hadn't quite shaken. "Got somewhere to be, Henderson?"

"I have to pick up Dustin from Mike's, they all had a sleepover last night. Not that Dustin minds staying over a little longer, but Mom does. She doesn't like him being out of her sight for too long these days."

Steve's eyes went glassy, like they did when he thought about what happened that night for a little too long. "Yeah, well... Can't blame her for that one."

"I don't," you said. "Not when Dustin still has nightmares."

Shock flickered across his face. He opened his mouth but then—

"STEVE HARRINGTON!"

He stood, grinning down at you. "See you in a minute."

You gave him a tiny wave goodbye as he walked away and waited a second for your own name to be called. The vice principle watched Steve take his seat, then looked down at his list.

"WILLIAM HARGROVE!"

Your heart stopped. What? Shit. You'd forgotten about Billy. You bit back a groan, glancing around the gym to try and spot him. There was no movement.

Of course you'd forgotten about Billy—he wasn't even here. Not to mention, he hadn't been here for eleven years. It had just been you and Steve next to each other for a solid eleven years. Steve on one side of you, and his (former) best friend Tommy on the other. Tommy had always been pissed that you separated them, but Steve had never minded, and he certainly didn't now.

"Not here today?" the vice principle said. "Alright, the next student should leave the seat next to Steve open for him." He looked back down at his list and called your name.

You walked to your spot—next to the empty seat—as if in a trance. You sat and looked over at Steve, who looked just a blindsided as you.

Your gaze dropped to Billy's empty seat. "But..."

For some reason, it felt like a betrayal. It felt like the world was ending.

You're overreacting, you told yourself. Just calm down.

But you had been next to Steve for eleven years. Every roll call they organized you by graduating class; every assembly; every Department of Education required testing. You had been in the seat next to Steve for your PSATs and SATs, stealing glances to find him sitting with his eyes huge, not a thought in his head, and trying so hard not to giggle. Then laughing about it after, when the proctors let you all leave, and the two of you exchanging a knowing look the moment you left the classroom.

Over time, especially after the demodogs, Steve grew to be something like your best friend, although, if asked, you'd probably say Nancy was your best friend. You'd grown up with her, too, when Dustin spent the night at Mike's.

(Which made you feel slightly like a traitor when, after all that had happened between her and Steve, you couldn't help but tolerate him enough to like him.)

But you also knew what happened that night in the Byers' house. You knew Billy and Steve had gotten into a fight bad enough to knock Steve unconscious and leave him banged up and bloody. You knew Billy hated him more than ever after that, even though it had been Max who finally knocked Billy out, and you knew it was the promise Max extracted from Billy that kept him from trying to finish the fight with Steve "properly."

So you knew that the look on Steve's face was not just from being separated after eleven years. You knew it was also from terrible fear, overwhelming fear.

The vice principle had gotten to the Js. You hadn't heard any of them, hadn't even noticed Tommy H. sit next to you. You just stared at that empty seat where Billy should have been—where you should have been.

~❊~

You considered yourself fond of Steve Harrington.

He'd saved your brother's life, after all, and the lives of Dustin's friends. Dustin had wasted no time in telling you just how great his new hero was, despite the fact that he was falling asleep in the back of the car when you'd rushed to Steve's house to pick him up, late at night.

"And he took his bat—the one I told you about, with all the nails, that one—and he just started bashing with it. And then, and then, and then, when the demodog got on the roof of the bus, he pushed us away so it couldn't kill us!" He smiled sleepily in the back, visible in your rearview mirror. "You shoulda been there. You shoulda seen it! He was awesome, just...just so awesome... So bitchin'."

You would have reprimanded him for his language (even though it wasn't going to stop him), but he was already asleep, without even finishing his story.

Had it surprised you? A little bit. The King Steve you had known was nothing like the Steve in Dustin's story, but you didn't doubt Dustin. You'd seen a change in Steve the past semester or so. But you'd sat next to him for eleven years, gotten to see a side of him that he didn't let the rest of the school see. And when you'd gone to pick up Dustin, the boy before you was deserving of your sudden fondness for him.

"Hey," he said, greeting you from where he leaned against his car, next to the open door revealing Dustin in the back. "I would have waited for you at the Byers', but I know this is closer, and it's late, so—"

Dustin shouted your name, hopped out of the car, and ran to you, hugging your legs tightly. He'd pretended to be fine when Steve called, but you could tell he was terrified and glad the whole thing was over from how tightly he hugged you.

You looked up at Steve, leaning down just enough to wrap your arms around Dustin's shoulders. "I can't thank you enough, Steve, really." He waved away your thanks, but you talked over him. "Seriously, Steve. Thank you. If anything had happened to him, I would've..." You looked down at Dustin, at a loss for words. "I don't know what I would've done."

"Yeah. Just..." Steve shrugged. He seemed embarrassed to be standing at his car, giving back your brother like two divorced parents and their child. "He needed help and...I was around."

You prodded Dustin toward the car. "Go get in the car. The back, I've got too much stuff in the passenger seat."

He nodded, stifling a yawn and heading to the car without protest.

You looked back at Steve. "Thank you. Again."

Steve nodded, his eyes locked on yours. "Any time."

Without really realizing it, you closed the distance between you and Steve and threw your arms around him, squeezing him tightly and trying not to cry into his shoulder. He stood frozen for a moment, but then his arms came around you and squeezed. For some reason, you remembered he was dating Nancy Wheeler at that exact moment.

"Hey..." His voice was impossibly soft. "Hey, it's okay. He's okay. They're all okay."

You pulled away from him, sniffling and wiping your eyes. "I... I'm sorry. I don't know why I..." You shook your head. "Long, hard day, I guess."

"Don't worry about it," he said, in a tone so gentle and kind that you didn't.

So yes—you were fond of Steve, and that fondness grew when he visited more and more and more often to visit Dustin, or take him somewhere when you couldn't, and you learned through Dustin's endless chattering that Steve and Nancy had broken up a while ago, so you felt a little less guilty about the hug.

You considered Steve your best friend. You might have considered him more than that, if not for your friendship with Nancy.

(Although, did that really matter, when she was happy with Jonathan and comfortably over Steve?)

But you were far less fond of Billy Hargrove.

In fact, you were quite positive that you despised Billy Hargrove.

Even before knowing what he had done to Steve, to your brother and his friends, you had hated him. You had seen him antagonize everyone, from the poor, already outcast nerds, to the popular clique like Steve. Everybody suffered at the hands of Billy, one way or another. Even Max—or, perhaps, especially Max.

Regardless, you hated Billy. And now you had to sit between him and Tommy H, instead of next to your best friend? God, these were going to be a rough couple of hours.

~❊~

On your way out of the gym, you found Steve waiting for you at the door.

"I know you've gotta go pick up Dustin, but after that, do you wanna—"

"Steve, I will do anything you want as long as you let me vent. I can't believe I'm stuck next to Billy Hargrove," you complained.

He snorted. "Yeah, believe me, you're not alone there. Jesus, I wanna punch him again."

"Hey." You put a hand on his chest, stopping him. "Don't start anything you can't finish."

Steve brushed you off and kept walking. "I didn't say I was going to, just that I want to. And, believe me, I really, really want to."

"We'll just ask Max to do it."

He groaned. "Don't remind me that I needed a twelve-year-old to fight my battles for me."

"She's thirteen." Steve gave you a look. You giggled. "Alright, alright. I'll leave you alone."

He pushed the front door of the school open and held it for you, following you out. "Okay, so, you need to vent, I want to go out—milkshakes later?"

"Yes, please," you nearly groaned. "But you do realize Dustin is going to want to come, right?"

Steve rolled his eyes. "You don't have to tell him. Just...bring him home and I'll pick you up at one?"

You rolled your eyes back at him. "The instant you show up at our door, Dustin's Steve-senses are going to tingle and he's going to hop in the front seat before I can. He's practically attached at the hip to you."

Steve laughed. "You have a point there. Alright, fine—Dustin, too."

You split away from him to head to your car, only for him to follow you. You realized he'd parked next to you. "We'll meet you at Benny's!" you said, getting into the front seat. He nodded slowly and waved you off. You returned the wave and left the school parking lot behind.

It was only after Steve was just a figure in your rearview mirror that it dawned on you he'd phrased the whole thing differently from just a regular hang-out with the group.

"But after that—"

"I want to go out."

You glanced back out your window, not daring to identify meaning of the twist of anticipation in your chest.

~❊~

Dustin slurped loudly on his almost-finished milkshake. You and Steve, who were only halfway through your own milkshakes, made eye contact over your glasses and giggled.

Your little brother looked up from his glass. "What? What's funny?"

"Nothing," the two of you said in unison. You glanced back up at him and your stomach did flips. The expression on his face looked like your fondness felt. It looked like the face Nancy had described to you, back when she was still sort-of in love with Steve—before Barb died, and before the Upside Down.

You and Nancy lay spread out on her bed, your legs hanging over the end of her bed, her feet curled up behind her, her knees at her pillows. Your hears were right next to each other, turned toward each other so you could see the huge smile on Nancy's face.

She was half an hour deep into telling you about her date with Steve. "And he just...he had this look on his face, you know? Like there was nothing else that mattered. Like I was the only thing left in the world. The only girl left." Without even realizing it, she had brought her hand up to her hair, curling it in her fingers. "His eyes, they were so...so soft and so open. And his hair was falling into his face, he'd been blowing it out of his eyes for hours, it was so cute, ridiculously cute, but he stopped trying to get it out of his face when I giggled at him."

You giggled at her. "You are so in love with him, admit it!"

Her grin got impossibly bigger. "That...that's the thing. I think he wanted to say it to me."

Your eyes widened. "He was gonna tell you he loved you?!"

"I think so," she whispered. "But then the door opened, and it was loud, rowdy teenagers, so we just glanced over at them and started to laugh and—" She giggled. "And then it was gone. But it was there. He wanted to say it to me." She paused and, in a whisper, added, "And I think I wanted to say it back."

You shrieked with joy, reaching for her and tickling. "Nance, oh my God!"

She giggled, batting her hands away. "Stop it, stop it, I can't breathe!"

"Have you told Barb yet?"

Nancy's mood darkened a tad too much for your liking. "I don't think she'd like it. She's not a...huge fan of Steve."

"Oh, come on, if you're happy, she'll be happy for you, right?"

Nancy rubbed her arms. "I don't know. I hope so?"

"Just tell her, Nance, she'll be okay. She'll get it." You grinned at her again. "Oh my God, I can't believe it, you're in love with Steve Harrington!"

You tore your eyes away from Steve, looking back down at the milkshake he had insisted on buying for you.

"Do you think they're going to say our middle names when we graduate?"

"Huh?" You looked up. That expression of Steve's was gone. "Our middle names?"

He shrugged. "Yeah. You know, we're just walking up and they're saying our whole names."

You blinked at him.

"They're supposed to," Dustin said beside you. Your heads turned toward him.

"What?"

"They're supposed to say your middle names. At least, most high schools do it for graduation. Did they not do it during rehearsal today?"

"No," Steve said. He groaned, thumping his head into the table. "Damn it."

"Why?" you asked, giggling at his melodrama.

He lifted his head back up, sipped on his milkshake, and said, "I hate my middle name. I hate it! It's so...stupid."

You bit your lip, trying not to laugh again. "Well, now you have to tell me what it is."

Steve scoffed. "Absolutely not."

You leaned forward across the table. "Tell me."

"No," he insisted.

"Yes!"

"No way!"

You found Steve's foot with your own under the table, making him jump. "Come on, Stevie... Just tell us!"

"No!"

"We're gonna find out anyway," Dustin piped up from beside you. "They're gonna say it at graduation!"

Steve shook his head resolutely. "No. They might not, because they didn't at practice, and if they didn't, I'm not embarrassing myself by telling you now."

You rolled your eyes at him. "It can't be that bad. No parent would name their child something that awful."

He snorted. "You have clearly never met my parents."

"No, I have not, but now I would like to," you said. You'd heard him complain about his father being a "grade-A asshole" before, a phrase Nancy had confirmed he'd used multiple times about his father, but you'd never seen just how bad he was.

Steve shook his head, going back to his milkshake. "No, you don't," he said quietly. The look in his eyes—like a sad, lost, kicked puppy—shut you up effectively. So you let it go, drinking your milkshake happily.

Dustin twirled his straw around in the remnants of his whipped cream. "Did I tell you about the project Mr. Clarke gave us? I might need help setting it up, but he wants us to make a machine out of stuff we have around the house."

Steve brightened. "Is it a Rube Goldberg machine? I remember those! I think I used mine to open the door to my patio..."

"Yeah!" Dustin grinned. "Mike, Lucas, Will, Max and I have a contest to see which of us can make the best one. I already know Mike's getting Nancy's help, and Will's getting Jonathan's, and I think Max and Lucas are collaborating to make two separate projects, so I could really use you guys to help..."

In amongst Dustin's chatter, you glanced toward Steve, finding a small smile on his face as he watched the kid talk animatedly. Dustin pulled a napkin toward himself and started sketching out vague plans for his machine. You felt Steve's foot move beside yours. You glanced over at him as he started playing a subtle game of footsie with you under the table.

You stifled a giggle, smiling at him in a way that was far too friendly—or, rather, not friendly enough. That look came back on his face, the lovey dovey look Nancy had gushed so much over. You understood why now. Had the roles been reversed, you would have gone straight to her to tell her all about the way Steve Harrington looked at you like he was in love with you.

That tight feeling in your chest came back, a simmering, traitorous hope nestling in your heart and not once listening to the screams of your brain that you should not, absolutely should not, fall in love with your best friend's ex.

Steve propped his head up with his hand, that dreamy look in his eyes intensifying. His lips pursed slightly before they fell apart, pure wonder in that small, involuntary motion.

To hell with not falling in love with your best friend's ex.

You lifted your foot a little higher, catching the cuff of his jeans and slowly but surely tugging up. Steve gulped, pink dusting his cheeks. You felt a brief but distinct shiver of glee.

Dustin pushed his empty cup away from him, the scraping on the table drawing your attention away from Steve. For a moment, you feared Dustin had caught sight of your not-so-subtle flirting and was about to call you out on it, but then he yawned.

"Can we go home?" he asked you, his sudden tiredness evident in his voice.

"You didn't sleep at all last night at Mike's, did you?" you asked with a sigh. "Because if you had, this sugar would be keeping you bouncing on the walls for the next four to five hours."

He shrugged. "It was a long campaign." His eyes fluttered, his head drooping. His body slid toward you, your shoulder being the only thing keeping him upright anymore.

Love and guilt crashed over you at the same time. "Oh, don't fall asleep on me here, I can't carry you to the car anymore, Dusty—"

"It's okay, I've got him," Steve said. He paid the bill in cash and got up from his side of the booth, gently pulling Dustin out from under the table and out of the restaurant. You followed, a glimmer of warmth in your chest. You'd heard Dustin and the others jokingly refer to Steve as their dad; now you could see why.

You unlocked the car for Steve and he put Dustin in the passenger's seat and buckled him in. Dustin mumbled softly—you were quite sure it was a little 'thank you'—and Steve closed the door as gently as he could.

Steve turned back to you, his hands going to his hips. "He's all yours."

"You'd make a great dad, Steve," you said gently, unable to stop yourself, or keep the gentle smile off your face. And when he smiled back at you, you felt like you had flashed ten years into the future, a mom standing and watching her husband carry their sleeping child to the car, doing everything in his power not to wake him.

"I've, uh, always wanted to be one," Steve said, the admission quiet but confident. "Ever since I knew I could be."

"Oh, Stevie..."

He rubbed the back of his neck. "What? It's just...I like the idea. Of being able to be there for someone and guide someone through life and have a family of my own, you know? Like—a big one. A big, happy family."

"I'm not judging you, Steve," you said, hearing the defensiveness in his voice. "I'm not. It's cute. It's really cute. I'm glad that you know what you want in your future."

He sighed, kicking the ground. "Yeah, well. Doesn't help to know what I want if I can't get there."

You raised an eyebrow and waited for an explanation.

Steve shrugged awkwardly, looking the most helpless you'd ever seen him. "There aren't exactly a line of girls just waiting to make King Steve's dreams come true." He bit his lip. "They just want me for a night, if they even want me at all, and then I don't—" He stopped himself short, taking a deep breath, his eyes dropping to the asphalt beneath you. "I'm sorry, this isn't... This isn't the time or place for this. I'm sorry."

You stepped closer to Steve, leaving only a few inches between you. "Hey," you said softly, bringing his gaze up from the ground and back to you. "It's okay. I understand." You caught his hand in yours. "Steve?"

He hummed, his gaze still on your hand holding his.

"You meant for tonight to be a date, didn't you?"

He blushed, but very slowly, he nodded.

Your heart fluttered in your chest. You hesitated, then said, "Do you want a hug?"

The question very nearly made Steve burst into tears. He nodded, accepting your arms around him instantly. He squeezed tightly and you returned the pressure, sensing he needed it. "I'm sorry," he whispered into your ear. "If it was weird, I'm sorry, I should have made it more clear that it was meant to be a date—"

Your hand drifted behind his hand, tangling into his hair. "Don't apologize. You don't have to apologize for wanting to be wanted, Steve. I should have known you wanted it to be just us—and not on babysitting duty." You bit your lower lip, possessed by a sudden boldness. "And, for what it's worth, I'd want you for more than a night."

He went tense and then lax in your arms. "I... What?" He leaned away from you, just enough to see your face but not enough to leave your arms. He whispered your name. "What are you saying?"

You offered him a tiny smile. "I think you know, Steve."

"Say it," he breathed. "Please. Please, I want to hear you say it."

You pressed your forehead to his as his hand lifted to your cheek, fingers brushing over your skin with a reverence you'd never felt before. "I want you for more than one night, Stevie. I want as many night as you'll give me."

The sound he made was both holy and sinful. You really hoped the windows to your car were closed, because that was not a sound you wanted Dustin hearing—especially not from Steve, not while you were wrapped up in his arms and he was in yours.

Steve moved before you did, leaning in but giving you the time and the chance to back away from him. You did the opposite, meeting him in the middle and kissing him softly.

Nancy had not done his kisses justice in her descriptions of them. Though, you had to give her credit, because it was next to impossible to find a good way to describe the gentle pressure of his mouth on yours. There was certainly nothing to compare it to, except for that heady, wonderful feeling of getting out of trouble scot-free, or that beautiful feeling when a choir sings a perfectly arranged chord in a high-ceilinged building.

You whispered his name into his mouth, a prayer on your lips, a desperate cry for more of him. He hummed into your mouth, sending shivers down your spine, and his hands gripped your hips, pulling you even closer to him and then wrapping around you once more.

"Every night, Steve," you whispered against him when he stopped kissing you to breathe, though his lips remained against yours as his chest heaved. "I want you every night."

He groaned. "Don't say that," he whispered. "Don't say it if you don't mean it."

You cupped his face in your hands. "I wouldn't have said it if I didn't mean it. I want you, Stevie. All of you, all of the time."

He whimpered. It was a beautiful sound.

"You know..." His words were choppy, split up by his heavy breaths. "If it weren't for your brother in the car, I'd take you home if you'd let me." You opened your mouth, but he put a finger your lips. "Shhh, don't tell me. Don't tell me if you'd let me. Don't let me know what I'm missing out on."

You smiled at him, toying with the hairs at the back of his head. "Kiss me one more time, Stevie. Please, baby."

He grinned. "Well, because you asked so nicely..." And his lips were on you again, and it took everything in you not to moan your relief that he had kissed you again.

Heaven. His kiss was like absolute heaven.

When he finally let go of you, the air between you had changed, filled with a pleasant glee. For the first time in a long time, you saw that Steve's eyes were bright.

"Get your brother home," he told you. "And I'll see you tomorrow. Oh, and, one more thing?"

You reached for his hand, caressing his skin. "Yeah?"

"How about we keep this between us for a few days? Just until graduation." He grinned. "Surprise everybody. I'll walk across the stage and stop to wait for you and we kiss and walk off together—"

"You're forgetting something," you said, shaking your head. "Billy's between us."

Steve's face fell. "I could...wait until he's gone?"

You laughed. "Stevie..."

He sighed. "Well, it was a good idea while it lasted, right?"

"It was cute," you agreed. "Just like you are."

Steve beamed.

"Don't worry—we'll still surprise them all," you said. "We'll just wait until we pose for photos, and right when they snap a picture, we'll lean in and you can give me a big, dramatic kiss, alright?"

"I like that idea just as much," he said, smiling. He nuzzled into you and kissed your cheek. "Get yourself home safe, hun. Okay?"

"Okay," you said. You let go of him slowly, reluctantly getting back in your car. He waited, waving to you as you pulled out of the parking lot, before he got into his own car.

About halfway down the road, Dustin stirred. "I hope the reason you took that long is because you were confessing your feelings for Steve," he said, his voice thick with sleep.

You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye. "Go back to sleep, Dustin."

"So he confessed, too," he mumbled. "Good. You need each other."

You bit back a smile. "Whatever you say, Dustin."

"Yeah...whatever I say..."

~❊~

You stood in line, your heart beating out of your chest. You were surprised no one around you had told you they could hear it.

Billy was standing in front of you, seeming ridiculously tall in his graduation cap and gown. Behind you, the cap and gown seemed to make Tommy even shorter than normal.

"STEVE EUGENE HARRINGTON!"

Your eyes went wide and your head whipped very quickly toward an embarrassed Steve. You'd heard him groan when they had first started graduating seniors by calling middle names, too, but you had not been expecting that.

No wonder he hadn't wanted to tell Dustin—the kid was never going to leave him alone about this.

"WILLIAM DAVID HARGROVE!"

Billy walked. You waited until your name was shouted into the room. You could hear Steve cheer as he went back to his seat, and Dustin cheering up in the stands. You shook Principle Higgins' hand and accepted your diploma, practically glowing and feeling on top of the world.

When you were seated and Tommy H. was following you back to his seat, you leaned forward to see around Billy.

"Eugene?!"

Steve groaned. "Shut up. Please. Please."

"I can see why you didn't want to tell us," you giggled.

Tommy leaned around you. "You know, you could've told them not to say it."

Steve's eyes went huge. "I could have?!"

He was quickly shushed by the administrator guiding students to the stage. Stifling giggles, you and Tommy sat back in your chairs, waiting for the end of the ceremony to tease him endlessly.

~❊~

Lover's Lake in June—busy, overcrowded, full of children.

Lover's Lake in June past six at night—still full of children, but just the ones you were keeping your eyes on with Steve.

The party was having an adventure in the water, shouting at each other, the occasional D&D term thrown in. Max and Eleven were a ways away from the group, shrieking and holding their arms up every time the boys splashed the water too close to them.

Steve looked at his watch. "Hey, guys! It's almost eight! You've got fifteen minutes before we gotta get you home."

Max lifted up a hand, giving him a thumbs up, despite the boys not hearing a thing.

"Especially, you, Dusty, you have to go to camp tomorrow!" you called. You got no response.

"Jesus, they never listen, do they?" Steve sighed.

You leaned into his shoulder. "They listen, they just like yanking your chain."

You and Steve sat together at the edge of a dock, feet in the water, his pants rolled up to his knees and his arm around your shoulders. You held a copy of your graduation photo—the photo, the surprise photo where Steve had turned to you and kissed you right as the camera flashed.

"My mom framed her copy of this, you know," you said, handing him the photo. "It's sitting on the hearth."

He grinned. "I'm glad it turned out so well. I was worried it would be all blurry if I didn't time it right." He nuzzled his face into your temple, pressing a series of quick, gentle kisses there. "How'd Dustin take it?"

You laughed, your eyes straying to your brother, who was being tackled by Lucas. "He already knew! After I got in the car, he told me he hoped the reason it had taken me so long to get in after him was because he wanted us to be confessing our feelings to each other."

Steve snorted, loud in your ear. You shied away and he whispered a quick apology. "Of course he noticed. He notices everything."

"Not that it was hard to see we were hiding something from each other," you added, turning to catch his mouth with your own. He hummed into the kiss. "You spent all of that night looking at me with your 'I love you' eyes."

He raised his brows. "Oh, my 'I love you' eyes, really?"

You nodded, giggling at him and pressing closer to his side. You set the photo down behind you as he pulled you into a hug with both arms.

"Well, you weren't exactly the most subtle, either," Steve said, kissing your nose.

"Oh, yeah? What did I do?"

Steve brought his hand up to your cheek, brushing his thumb over your cheekbone. "Oh, you know, you get this look on your face. When you thought I couldn't see you, I guess. You'd look over and it was like...it was like you'd relax." He smiled. "Like seeing me was all it took to calm you down from whatever stress you had."

You smiled. "Yeah, I guess you do kind of have that effect on me." You ran your gaze over him. "You know...you're giving me those eyes right now."

His voice was nearly a whisper. "Good." Steve kissed you deeply, cupping the side of your face to hold you close to him. "Because I do." He squeezed your hip with his other hand. "Because I do love you."

You stared at him, mouth dropped open.

Steve turned red. "I know it's soon, but I—"

"Steve?"

"Yeah?"

"Kiss me."

"Okay," he whispered, leaning back in. When his lips met yours, you lifted your hand into his hair. He sighed happily into your mouth. He wrapped his arms around your waist.

And then it dawned on you. You pulled back from him. "Steve, it's too quiet."

You both looked at the water, half-expecting the kids to be gone, but they were all still in the lake—treading water and staring, silently, at you and Steve.

"What?" Steve asked slowly.

Dustin made a face. "Dude. My sister."

Steve rolled his eyes. "Dude. My girlfriend!"

"You're just as bad as El and Mike," Will groaned, setting off the shouting once more.

Steve glanced at you. "We're not that bad, are we?"

You shrugged. "I don't think so."

He kissed you again. "That's all that matters." He looked back at the kids. "Alright, come on, out of the water! You're not getting in my car soaking wet."

While the kids groaned and complained, Steve stood and offered you his hand to help you up. You took it, kissing his cheek once you were upright. His hand still in yours, you made your way to the car.

Dustin called your name. "Have you seen my towel?"

"Right here, Henderson," Steve laughed. He picked it up from the chair it was flopped over and handed it to him. You leaned into Steve, letting go of his hand so he could wrap his arm around your waist. He kissed the top of your head.

"See?" you whispered to him. "Good dad."

A glint entered Steve's eyes. "Someday," he said, and you got the feeling his someday included you.

You covered his hand on your hip with your own and looked up at him. "I love you, Stevie."

"Still my sister, Steve!"

Steve didn't take his eyes off you and his voice was soft, too soft for Dustin to hear. "Still my girlfriend, Henderson."

☞ ❊ ☜

Stranger Things // Steve Harrington

Taglist: {comment and let me know if you'd like to be added to the S.H. taglist!} @ohatropa@nix-rose@live-the-fangirl-life

[timetogosteddie]

Can't stop thinking about your lips

They’ve just finished telling Eddie about a certain too enthusiastic and not fully aware they were in a public space -couple at the movies last night when it happens. One moment, all three of them were chuckling, Eddie saying something about an image he couldn’t scrub from his mind, when Robin turns to him and asks him the one question he’s not ready to answer right now.

At least, not answer honestly. Because he knows he’s bothered her with stories of his failed dates and sad monologues about wanting to find someone for months, before…well, just before. He’d rather not think of everything that had happened, of everything that could have happened, of everyone they could have lost.

That was then and this is now. The after, so to speak. And in the ‘after’, he hasn’t thought about asking random girls on dates. Not once.

Realizing he hasn’t answered her question yet, he simply shakes his head, before giving her a shrug. “I’m taking a break from all that, you know that. Look, if it’s meant to happen, it’ll happen. If not? Well, then I guess our marriage pact should be discussed some more, huh?”, he ends jokily, booping her on the nose.

She makes a face instantly, dramatically pushing his hand away. It only makes him laugh louder. “Hey, I’m a catch, Buckley!”, he states, though his voice is still shaking from laughter, making the comment less than convincing. 

Robin just throws him a look, making some comment about his hair and how high maintenance his beauty routine is compared to hers. He doesn’t even have to pay too much attention to her. This is familiar. This is a joking discussion they’ve had many times before, meaning he knows exactly what type of in-no-way-mean insults she’s going to throw his way. Just like he’s sure she’s prepared for him to repeat earlier jokes about her. It’s just how they are.

Eddie though? Eddie usually joins in, which usually turns into him teaming up with either of them, or them turning on him as a united front. “The twins”, Eddie would always call them in moments like these. Steve’s so used to hearing the words, that it feels weird when they don’t come. Eddie is quiet, gaze averted and judging from the poor, bitten bottom lip trapped between his teeth, deep in thought. Hmm…

“Maybe I should trade you in for Eddie. He looks like the kind of guy who would be able to get ready in fifteen minutes with time left to make me some coffee.”, Robin says suddenly and he’s not sure why that’s the comment that brings his full focus back on her. Maybe it was the mention of Eddie, a soft voice in the back of his head helpfully supplied.

It’s a voice that’s been there for a while now, though he tried ignoring it at first. Sure, he paid a lot of attention to Eddie when he was around. Who wouldn’t? It’s Eddie, who knows what that guy’s going to do or say next? Being around Eddie was fun and he hated missing out on even a moment of that fun by being distracted by less important things. Though over time, those less important things had gone from the movie they were watching or a joke Mike was telling the group to Steve sometimes completely tuning out everyone but Eddie.

After the third time it had happened, which had earned him an annoyed look from Dustin and a slightly amused one from Robin, he’d sat down at his kitchen table, nodded to himself and concluded that yes, he fully understood what was happening. It wasn’t a new feeling per se, just a little different. He was having a crush. A crush on one Eddie Munson. 

Looking back at Robin now, he lets his mouth fall open dramatically, before waving his hand in a bored “psssh” kinda way. He nods at Eddie, trying to get a reaction from his still seemingly distracted looking friend. “What do you say, Munson? You in?” He has to stop himself, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling, as Eddie’s eyes shoot up towards him, blinking as if woken from a deep sleep.

“Shit, sorry. I was a mile away, guys. Had to think some happy thoughts after that too vivid image of those two people inspecting each other’s dental hygiene last night.”, Eddie says with a smirk that only grows when Robin lets out a loud groan. “Exactly, Robs! That’s exactly how I felt. But after thinking about things like my sweetheart, a nice cold beer and our Stevie here in those little gym shorts he used to wear, I’m back.”

He feels his chest contract, pushing all air from his lungs at the mention of himself in…gym shorts? He’s used to Eddie flirting, though used might be a big word. He’s aware of it, would be more accurate. Being used to something implies being able to deal with it. And though he really wants to, he hasn’t been able to successfully throw a joking flirt back.

He's also not sure Eddie’s fully joking anymore. Sure, he liked to make Steve flush but mentioning high school Steve? That was new. Normally, Eddie pretended he didn’t pay attention to Steve during that time, just like Steve hadn’t really noticed Eddie. It was a big enough school that their specific circles didn’t really mix. So yeah, the mention of his shorts definitely throws him for a bigger loop than usual. 

He’s not sure Eddie’s just joking. 

He hopes he’s not.

At some point in life, he had been good at this. He might not have the best memories of those months, but his flirting game? It had been tight, okay? He knows this, might even be a little proud of it. But as soon as Eddie started flirting with him, and especially when he started realizing just why he liked it so much when Eddie teased him, all those moves seemed to have simply fallen out of his brain. No muscle memory, no successful moments from his past to steal lines from, nothing.

His first thought had been that it was because Eddie was a guy. Some sort of self-protection kicking in inside his brain or something. Maybe he really was more homophobic than he’d thought? But, after a few suggestive dreams and some more time spent staring at Eddie whenever they were together, he’d come to the conclusion that that hadn’t been it.

Okay, so maybe he had been more into those girls than he was into Eddie right now? Yeah, no, definitely not. 

Was it the fact that Eddie had more game? The fact that he was flirting with him, hard, where most girls had just let themselves be wooed by Steve’s words? Because even if Eddie was just joking, his flirting game was strong. It was a thought that had made bile rise up in his throat, just thinking about the possibility that Eddie was joking and at some point, would stop flirting with him and would start using those words on someone he was actually serious about.

After crossing these and some other possibilities off the list, he’s still not sure what the real reason for his fumbling could be. 

He secretly suspects that the nervous feeling and light fluttering in his stomach whenever Eddie is around might be all the answer he needs.

His brain is tripping again, falling over the words he thinks he wants to say, making nothing come out. Just as he goes to give it another shot, Robin pipes up next to him. “I’m trading Steve in for you, Eddie, keep up.” She says it easily, as if that’s a normal thing to say. Which he guesses it is, as they’re all just joking around, right?

It’s clear just how much she’s joking when she leans in to Steve’s side, says “You’ll always be my dirty little secret though”, and boops his nose in return. 

Just like that, all three of them are laughing again. 

Just like that, Steve’s little crisis at being unable to successfully flirt with Eddie is once again forgotten.

Until about an hour later, when Robin announces she has to leave just as Steve and Eddie get ready to order some pizza. 

“I told you about my aunt’s birthday, remember?”, she says once Steve throws her a look of betrayal and…yep, he does.

“Veronica! Aunt Ronnie, of course. Sorry about that.”, he replies, suddenly feeling guilty. She literally mentioned it again yesterday. Like, 24 hours ago. How did he forget?

Luckily for him, she quickly waves his comment off. “Dude, relax. I’m just sad I’ll have to miss out on the big pizza debate and exchange it for an evening of distant relatives being a little too interested in my love life.”

“Just tell them about our upcoming marriage, that’ll shut them up.”, Eddie says casually, falling backwards onto the couch. “I bet I could come up with some possible baby names before you have to leave. Just say the word, babe. ”, he adds, grinning widely. 

Hearing his crush say these types of things to his best friend should definitely not be attractive. It really shouldn’t be, no matter how wide that perfect grin is.

Robin just makes another face, before throwing Steve a helpless look. “I think I made a mistake. You’re back in, Steve.”

He hears a “Hey!” coming from Eddie as she says the last bit, making them both smile. He blows her an imaginary kiss, which she pretends to catch and stuff into the pocket of her blouse. “Okay, my darlings. It’s been another treat, but this is where I leave you. See you guys later!”

Neither bothers getting up to walk her to the door, not that Robin would have expected them to anyway. She has a key to the house, for heaven’s sake. If anything, she should be the one walking the guests out whenever they’re together. He does wave at her though, noticing Eddie doing the same from where he’s still lying on the couch.

The door opens and closes again. 

For a moment, it’s quiet. 

For a moment, it’s just them. 

For a moment, Steve lets himself imagine that this, him and Eddie living in this big house, is real. And then his stomach makes a slight rumbling noise.

“Message received, geez.”, Eddie laughs, before getting off the couch. Though, why do the normal thing and just put your feet on the ground when you can also crawl over the backrest, right? Steve watches Eddie go with a shocked look that slowly morphs into amusement. “Mario’s, right?”, Eddie calls out a moment later.

“Yep!”, Steve says, pushing himself up and out of his chair to follow Eddie into the kitchen. Now came arguably the best part, though he’s not sure they’ve ever been “alone” for this. Their pizza debates were endless and usually, the third person or group present would finally stop their bickering and make the decision. He wonders who’ll come out on top, now that it’s just them.

Fuck, maybe thinking about someone coming out on top isn’t the smartest thing to do right now. Especially when he enters the kitchen to find Eddie smiling at him like that from where he’s leaning against the counter, re-reading a take-out menu he no doubt knows by heart by now.

“Ooh, thinking of mixing it up, huh?”, Steve asks, in what he hopes is a calm and innocent tone, as he points towards the menu. He’d been pretty sure it was a safe thing to throw out there, but judging from the twinkle in Eddie’s eyes, maybe it…wasn’t.

“Been thinking about a lot of things, Steve.”, he says, giving Steve’s body the slowest onceover known to man, eyes moving down Steve’s chest, down his legs, before stopping at his feet and then slowly making their way back up again. He actually lingers on his lips for a moment longer on the way up, before his eyes finally meet Steve’s again.

Steve knows he’s blushing right now. How could he not be, after that.

Eddie just makes an appreciative noise, as if Steve is a beautiful sunset or expensive painting. “Sorry, I got a little distracted there for a second. How about you, ready to mix it up?” His voice takes on a tone Steve’s not familiar with yet, almost like he’s asking something else right now. 

His blush grows darker, he knows, as he can feel it in the heat creeping up his body. His ears are fucking burning! Quick, think of something, anything. This is your chance, Harrington.

Shrugging as casually as he can, he leans back against the fridge. He knows what he looks like right now and judging from the way Eddie’s eyes widen just a fraction, Eddie appreciates that view as much as all those high school girls at his parties used to. “You know me, Eds, I’m never afraid to try new things. Had something specific in mind?”

Eddie seems to choke on air for a second and Steve wants to punch the fucking air like he’s won a championship game. Finally, he thinks. The fact that Eddie actually starts blushing is just the fucking cherry on top here. 

He has to stop himself from making a joke about a specific pizza topping. He might have done some research these past few weeks, but making a comment like that right now? That would definitely be taking it too far. He’s still new at this, after all.

Eddie’s still looking at him in slight surprise when Steve walks over, grabbing the menu and pretending to look it over as well. As if he doesn’t know exactly what options they have too. As if he doesn’t know they’re both going to order the same shit they always do. “Hmm, so many good options. But I’m afraid I only have eyes for my favorite.” He makes sure to look up at Eddie as he says that last bit. “I’m going to put on some sweatpants, you okay to order?”

He feels another wave of victory as Eddie just nods, before looking away.

---

Eddie had regained his endless charm soon after the pizza arrived and by the time the last slice made its way to his mouth, Steve was back to being a blushing mess. Something Eddie had said about the pizza being “the second best thing Eddie could think of to bite right now” had definitely made an appearance in Steve’s dreams that night. And the night after. And maybe in the shower this morning. He was only human, okay?

The phone rings. “Hey Steve, you busy? More importantly, have you eaten yet?”

Oddly enough, not the weirdest way Eddie’s ever started a phone call. It’s weirder that Eddie sounds this awake on a Monday morning, if he’s being honest.

Confused at the specific question, Steve stares at his long empty plate for a moment. “Do you mean breakfast? Also no, not busy, so come on, what’s your offer?”

“Oh Stevie, you’re not ready for my offer yet. But I do have a proposition for you, as I woke up with a craving. And I’m hoping you did too.”, he practically purrs into the phone.

Steve’s pretty sure he hears Wayne coughing in the background and can’t help but wonder if it’s because of Eddie’s unfairly attractive voice at this time of day. It’s not even 11 yet, for Christ sake! A proposition? An offer? He’s going to have to take a shower again, isn’t he?

“What kind of proposition are you thinking about?”, he throws back, trying to make his voice sound as breathy as possible. Two can play this game, Munson.

“Waffles! Or, you know, pancakes, Mr. Chocolate Chip.”, Eddie says happily, though he says Steve’s unofficial title with a bit of teasing.

“Don’t you remember, Munson? I’m open to trying new things.” He’s not even sure where that confidence came from, but when he hears Eddie actually splutter, he decides to show mercy. “I’m in. What time?”

It takes a moment for Eddie to actually respond. “I’ll come pick you up! I’m already driving over there anyway, seeing as the best diner is on your side of town. Does 12 work?”

“12 is perfect, see you then, Eds.”, he says softly, hanging up just in time. Because as soon as he does, the nerves hit him. Was this…was this a date? No...Right?

No, of course not. It’s not the first time you guys are grabbing food together, Steve. Not even the first time you’re eating lunch together. Calm down. Just because he’s picking you up and dropping you off after, doesn’t mean it’s a date. Then again, it also doesn’t mean it’s not a date.

Groaning loudly at the way his own brain is driving him mad right now, he runs back up the stairs. No need for that shower anymore, he thinks, as he goes to try on a million different shirts before landing on one that he deems okay enough, for now. He doesn’t want to look too casual, but he also doesn’t want to put on his usual first date clothes. Which means he’s in some kind of clothing limbo, a place he’s not used to being. A baby blue button up is casual, right? Right. Now stop worrying, he tells himself, dramatically sniffing his armpits to make sure he’s not already sweating through the fabric.

He's just on his way down when the doorbell rings. Eddie! Eddie is here, on his doorstep. Eddie, actually ringing the doorbell instead of just waiting in his van. Eddie, who’s apparently wearing the tightest black jeans known to man and a plain black shirt? He’d never thought he’d see the day.

“Hey.”, he finally breathes out, closing the door behind him.

“Hey yourself.” Eddie smiles. “That’s a good color on you.” With that, he turns around and starts walking towards the van. As if he didn’t just shatter Steve’s whole “you can do this” with that one sentence. Fuck, Eddie was going to be the death of him. Either in a good way, or in a bad way. But Steve was going to end up dead, that much was a given.

The drive to the diner doesn’t give Steve any clues as to whether this is a date or not. It’s just, the same always? At least, those few times he’d been picked up by Eddie to go somewhere. Though usually, it wasn’t just him. Still, it’s…nice? Really nice. The music is softer than usual, so they can actually talk, though they don’t really talk about anything important. Just the normal stuff, like the kids and music. It’s not a long drive anyway.

As it’s a Monday afternoon, the diner isn’t that crowded and Steve’s happy to see that there are no familiar faces there. It’s not that he doesn’t want to be seen with Eddie, it’s just that he wants to be with Eddie right now. Just Eddie. Without random “acquaintances” coming over for small talk or, you know, people giving Eddie a death glare. 

Eddie seems to be thinking the same thing, as he looks around with a relieved looking smile, before basically dashing over to the most hidden booth, around the corner in the back. Secluded, Steve thinks. The perfect date booth? But then again, also the perfect booth for someone who doesn’t want to be bothered. No conclusive answers yet.

“What’re you having, Stevie?”, Eddie asks, holding the slightly too large menu up like he’s reading a newspaper, his eyes barely peeking over the top to look at Steve.

“Hmm. How about we share? If you’re up for it, of course.”, he says easily, a challenge to his voice. “You order your favorite, I order mine and we’ll just share both?”

“Another proposition on this fine Monday. Touché!”, he smirks, already putting the menu down, before holding a hand out towards Steve. “Okay, deal.”

With a fond smile, Steve takes Eddie’s hand and shakes it. He doesn’t miss the way Eddie holds on for just a moment longer, eyes firmly locked onto Steve’s. He swears his heart stops beating for a second or two.

Just then, the waitress comes over with a sugary sweet smile, clearly in no way bothered by Eddie’s presence. If anything, she seems more enamored by him than by Steve. Which Steve can’t be mad about. He’s pretty enamored by Eddie himself.

“So,” Eddie says after a moment of silence, rubbing his hands together. “What are your plans for the rest of the day?”

Steve’s not sure if this means that Eddie truly only wanted to go have waffles with him, or if this is Eddie’s way of not so sneakily inviting himself over to Steve’s. As if he would ever need an invitation anyway. “No plans, really. If it wasn’t for you and your cravings , I wouldn’t have gotten out of the house today.”

He sees Eddie’s grin widen as he says the word cravings, just like he’d hoped, but though the spark is there, he keeps his mouth closed. Just nods, as if Steve said something wildly profound.

“How ‘bout you?”, Steve asks in return, when Eddie stays quiet. It earns him a shrug.

“Not sure yet.”

Silence returns to the table. It’s not uncomfortable, per se, but there is something loaded there. Like both of them aren’t really saying what they want to say.

And then Sharon, the waitress, is back again. She hands Steve his pancake tower with a smile, before setting down Eddie’s plate of waffles. “Enjoy, boys!”, she says cheerfully, patting Eddie’s arm for a moment, before she’s off again.

They both watch her leave with a small grin.

“I like her.”, Eddie says, before turning and looking down at his plate. “But I like the food she brought even more.”

Steve just laughs, pushing his plate to the middle of the table with raised eyebrows. “You still up for it, Munson?”

“As if I’d ever say no to you, Stevie.”, he counters, pushing his own plate until it’s next to Steve’s. With a grin, he stabs his fork into the pancake tower. Steve has to keep himself from gasping out. Sure, he was prepared to share but Eddie? Eddie was an animal. That is not how you eat pancakes.

He says as much, earning himself another wide grin from Eddie, who’s now holding a pretty full fork in front of his mouth. “Maybe you should show me then?”

“Maybe I should just feed you.”, Steve mutters, before catching himself and looking up at Eddie with what are no doubt deer-in-headlights eyes. Eddie’s are matching his perfectly.

Out of the two of them, Eddie’s the first to recover. “Maybe you should. Next time!” With that, he manages to close his mouth around the huge pile of pancake on his fork.

Steve looks away and tries to ignore Eddie’s unnecessary moaning at the “so good, Stevie!” pancakes as he stabs his own fork into the waffles. They’re good. Not as good as pancakes, but he gets why Eddie likes them. And if he’s honest, he could get used to this. Sharing these two dishes. It’s nice, as long as he keeps his fat mouth shut.

They chat and laugh some more until the last crumbs are gone from both plates, courtesy of Eddie and his fucking sinful fingers. Steve swears there weren’t any crumbs left minutes ago, yet Eddie just kept tapping his fingers over the plate and sucking them, making eye contact with Steve throughout.

“My treat!”, Eddie tells him, as Sharon comes over again to ask if she can get them anything else and Eddie simply asks for the bill.

Three minutes and another arm pat from Sharon later, Steve’s back in the passenger seat. The drive to his house feels even shorter than before.

“Your castle awaits!”, Eddie says dramatically, as he parks and waves a hand in the direction of Steve’s house.

“You wanna watch a movie or something?”, Steve asks, his heart beating in his throat.

The relief is instant when Eddie simply takes his keys out of the ignition. “Never can say no to you, right?”, is all he says as he follows Steve inside.

Two cokes, a closed bag of chips and ten minutes of going over Steve’s limited VHS collection later, they’re sitting on the couch watching ‘Clue’. It’s a movie they’ve both seen before, multiple times. A bit of a guilty pleasure for all of them, Robin included. Which is why Steve feels less inclined to pay attention.

He takes a sip of his coke, setting the glass back on the table and making sure he scoots a little closer to Eddie as he leans back. He’d hoped to make the move seem a little smoother, but judging from Eddie’s sparkling eyes locking onto his, he’s been caught. 

Laughing softly, Eddie quickly moves forwards, sips at his own glass, and practically lands on top of Steve as he scoots back.

It’s so easy for Steve to just wrap an arm around Eddie right now. So, he does.

It’s so easy for Steve to simply lean in a little bit right now. So, he does.

It’s so easy when Eddie meets him halfway.

It’s so easy, and so fucking perfect. Steve’s soft lips fit perfectly against Eddie’s slightly rougher ones. It’s just a soft kiss at first, a perfectly pure first kiss. 

They pull back, grinning at each other and a moment later, both are leaning back in.

It’s so easy, after a few kisses and a few breaks to catch their breaths or to laugh at a particularly brilliant part of the movie, to deepen the kiss. To use his arm around Eddie to pull him back just enough, head almost leaning against the backrest of the couch now, mouth falling open in a sigh. Steve tries to taste the sound as he carefully licks into Eddie’s mouth, until the other reacts in kind.

They miss who the killer is, miss the end credits, miss the screen going to black. It’s just them, kissing and giggling, catching their breaths before one or both dives back in.

When the make out has gone from lazy to sleepy, Eddie rubs a hand over Steve’s jaw. “I should be getting home.”

Steve simply nods, sitting up again. “Yeah, that…I bet Wayne’s wondering why the waffles took that long, huh?”

Eddie lets out a chuckle. “Well….when it comes to waffles, it would be highly believable for me to stay at that diner until closing and not be full.” He looks around the room again, as if thinking of what to do next, before quickly pecking Steve’s lips. He seems oddly nervous now, a look Steve’s not familiar with. At least, not on Eddie Munson.

Eddie gets up, actually looking surprised when Steve gets up too to follow him to the door. They stand in the dark hallway for a moment. Silent, just staring, Eddie shuffling his feet a bit. Neither seems sure of what to say right now.

Steve slowly moves his hand up to Eddie’s neck, pulling slightly until their lips touch again. “I’ll see you Wednesday, right?”

“Arcade, how could I forget?” Eddie says with a grin. “See you then, Stevie.”

One last peck, one last smile and he’s out the door. Steve watches the van drive off, already missing the feel of Eddie’s warm lips on his. 

Read the other chapters of this Steddie "firsts" fic on AO3 ❤

[idiotlovesongs]

The letters

Mike wasn’t sure about his feelings. He knows what he’s meant to feel. He’s read the books, seen the movies, and heard the stories. Even Nancy’s stories about Steve that he heard because he accidentally picked up the phone while she was talking to Barb about him, but she hadn’t always been sure of her feelings either.

Maybe it was hereditary. Perhaps Mike’s parents weren’t sure about each other either. Sometimes he could catch his mother staring too long at other men, younger men, but she always came back to his dad. Mike would watch them too though. Then he would cut his gaze to make sure no one saw. Maybe that was just what normal people did.

Because Mike Wheeler was a normal boy. Normal boys dealt with monsters too. Puberty, girls, and their peers are monstrous enough on their own. He just had a few more to add to his nightmares. 

Mike loved El. Maybe. Sure they didn’t have many interests in common, and she got kind of annoyed when he tried to joke around, but that’s how the movies showed it. Opposites attract. You make it work despite differences. 

So why did he get a lump in his gut every time he looked at her when he was supposed to have butterflies? Why did he watch his words in every interaction? Why did he feel like he could never get their relationship right?

Lucas could manage it. Whenever he fucked up with Max, he would mend things and they would be back to normal. He never mentioned even being nervous to mess up again. He just picked himself up and dusted himself off to do it all over again.

Dustin could do it, too. Suzy seemed demanding, but Dustin would bend to whatever she wanted with only some complaints. That’s a lot for Dustin. 

Will… 

Mike didn’t want to think about Will in a relationship. Anytime he tried to, he felt a tightness in his chest, like his ribcage wanted to collapse in on himself, and his face went hot. He thinks that he just doesn’t want Will to neglect him. It’s hypocritical considering he accidentally did the same thing when he and El were on better terms, but that didn’t stop his emotions. If Mike had to see Will with another person, he isn’t sure what he would do.

But Mike couldn’t stop him from going out to find someone. He’s just sure that no one is good enough for Will. Will was everything to Mike. Even if he didn’t know how to show it to him. 

Mike couldn’t provide tangible evidence of his adoration. He just knew that there was a box in his basement with all of Will’s paintings. He took them down when one night his dad walked in on him staring at them, teary eyed. He had a separate section in his closet with shirts Will accidentally left behind and Mike accidentally forgot to give them back. They were too short to wear out in public, but if he wore them in the privacy of his room with the door locked and curtains drawn, that was nobody’s business. And he had a journal of letters he meant to send, but was afraid he came off as weird, and uncool, and too sincere. Mike would throw them out, but he  was almost sure his mom had been checking his trash ever since it came out he was hanging out with a drug dealer/devil worshiper. As for why he didn’t throw them out after he decided not to send them, he wasn’t sure.

It became therapeutic in a way. Anything he couldn’t tell to the rest of the party, he told to the image of Will in his mind. The Will in his mind didn’t react if he said anything weird. He didn’t react at all until it was time to tear the piece out of his notebook and put it into the envelope. Then suddenly he had loads to say about Mike’s shitty writing. It was all either too simple or too much. No one wanted to read about mundane garbage or how someone has been feeling. Guys weren’t even supposed to have feelings like that. That was girl shit. Guys were supposed to be strong and handle themselves. His dad told him if he was ever feeling upset, he should just go down to the basement until he felt okay again. Mike had taken that advice to heart the months after Will left.

That’s where he was now, staring at the ceiling, listening to a tape Eddie made for him. Mike thought about telling Will about Eddie. For a time, Mike thought Eddie was the only other person who saw him. Of course, his friends knew him, but sometimes he felt like a ghost that crept up on them like he had to shout for them to pay attention sometimes. But Eddie picked him out in a crowd and turned his insides smooth, like hot honey. 

Eddie was always revved up. He never lacked a presence. He would announce his arrival into rooms. He would stand up on tables and shout until everyone was watching him. He was unbelievably obnoxious, and Mike kind of liked that about him. The lack of shame and boundless energy was something he aspired to have. It made him nervous. After months of feeling pushed to the side and someone with a scorching spotlight gaze finally looked at him again. It made him freeze up. Eddie had a habit of embodying a character and people either took part as a member of the audience or a character of his play. There was no third option. Mike wanted to act right next to him. He toyed with the idea of being opposite to him even though he knew it would never happen. The weirdo to his freak. 

Mike didn’t mention Eddie, not even to the Will in his head, for good reason. 

“Mike?” Will called down from the stairs, poking his head around to look at him. He scrunched up his nose. “What are you listening to?”

“I don’t know,” Mike replied even though he knew it was ‘Pleasure to Kill’ by Kreator. “Some tape I found. What are you doing here?”

“You weren’t responding to the walkie and I wanted to hang out.” Will made his way down the stairs and turned down the music. “Your mom let me in.”

“Oh,” Mike sat up and looked around for his walkie. “It’s on. I think it’s upstairs though.”

“That makes sense.” Will took a seat next to him. “So what are you doing down here?”

“Nothing much. Just thinking I guess.”

“About what?”

“El.” Mike thought he saw Will’s face crumble for a moment. “And some other people. I don’t know. I just… I don’t know.”

“What don’t you know?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugged.

“What a pickle.” 

“No kidding.”

There was a beat of awkward silence. 

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really. How am I gonna talk about it if I don’t even know what it is?”

“I don’t really know. Maybe you can just start saying words and something will eventually stick. Isn’t that what you used to do to plan for campaigns?” Will gave a teasing smile.

“Shut up. My campaigns were planned perfectly and coherently.” Mike nudged his side with his elbow. 

“Of course, they were. Have you written anything recently? Maybe that would help.”

“Maybe. I think I have.”

“You think you’ve written?” Will furrowed his brows.

“Yeah, it’s hard to explain. I- I wrote some letters.” Mike grimaced as the words left his mouth. “To you. That I never sent. They’re boring.”

“Show them to me.”

“What?” Mike stiffened like he had cold water poured down his back. “No. You don’t want to read them. They’re stupid.”

Will rolled his eyes. “You’re stupid. Of course, I want to read them. And you wrote them for me so they're basically mine. Show me my letters.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No way.”

“Yes way. We can go all night, Wheeler,” Will threatened. “If you really don’t want me to read them, I won’t, but don’t you go putting words in my mouth. I want to read them. I feel like I’ve missed so much here. Your letters can help me catch up.”

“Okay…” Mike said hesitantly with a face that made it look like it physically pained him to say the word. As he got up he thought he might actually die of embarrassment, a feeling he wasn’t used to having in front of Will. It made him want to find a high window to nose-dive out of. “I guess I’ll get them.” 

pt. 2, pt. 3, pt. 4, pt. 5

[witchthewriter]

𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 @deviltryhours. 

a/n: I’m sorry this took forever, I know it’s short but I hope it brings you some joy. Happy belated birthday dear friend!

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ          

   Waking with a start, you looked at the beeping alarm and grunted. 7:45am.

Mornings. Usually hated, but today … the morning felt a little different then the rest. Laying there, on your back, you could hear the chirping birds outside. Huh, tranquil in the trailer park. A sentence you never thought you’d have.

And then a fuzzy crunching noise sounded, followed by a group of voices you knew all too well. Laughing, you listened as the Hellfire Club sang you happy birthday from the walkie talkies that Eddie demanded everyone have.

 “Happyyyy Birrtthhddaayyyy toooooo yooouuuuuuuuu!” You noticed that Eddie’s voice was the loudest of them all, and the most off-key. You were always noticing Eddie more so than the others, especially when he was right in front of you. Your eyes never leaving his form, flicking from his eyes, landing to his smile. God that smile. It lit you up inside and you it took everything in you not to gaze dreamily at him all. Fucking. Day. It should be noted that it’s been pointed out by many of the others but all you could do was brush it off, give small excuses. The most used was, “I’m staring because he doesn’t own a hairbrush … it’s like a birds nest.”

 And then you’d hear someone, it nearly always being Max, mumble, “yeah a bird’s next you’d like to bury yourself in.”

   She was not wrong there.

 Kicking back the covers, your bare feet hit the cold floor and you pulled open the curtain. There, with a massive sign was a group of your closest friends. Eddie, Robin, Dustin, Nancy, Mike, Max, Lucas and Steve. The already knew where the rest of the Hellfire Club members were … still tucked into bed. You couldn’t blame them, with all the teenage hormones.

 You doubled over in laughter at the sign, looking at each of your friends’ faces. Robin and Steve were hanging off one another, seemingly fighting off sleep. Nancy was proudly holding one side of the sign (she would’ve been the one to organise the surprise. You had met her in the library during your second year of high school, and had been close ever since. It was seen as a weird friendship to others, but to you two … It made sense.)

Dustin was kneeling on the ground, his arms outstretched presenting the sign, but his body was covering the last few words so Max pushed him over.

  “Ow! What was that for?”

“I didn’t wake up before sunrise just for you to block the sign, dumbass.”

  “Children, children, please.” Eddie said in a mock stern voice, still holding the other end of the sign.

You rubbed your eyes and slid open your window. Straining to see, you could make out the words that had been painted on a green sheet of poster paper with black marker:

HAPPY BIRTHDAY GOBLIN KING!   THANK YOU FOR ALWAYS GIVING US ROCKS!!        THEREFORE YOU ROCK!!!

Maybe it wasn’t the most thought out sign, as you could tell by Nancy’s sheepish smile (you know if she had full reign that the sign would say something a bit more … elegant.) But you could tell that Eddie was the one to come up with the words. Because that was his nickname for you – Goblin King.

Pulling on your boots and a brown knitted jumper, you climbed through your window and out into the field behind your trailer. The group started singing but you groaned and tried to shoosh them (no, they did not stop.)

 Dustin called for a group hug and … it actually worked this time.

Like Steve and Nancy, you no longer attended Hawkins High. To the dismay of Robin, who was your fellow bandmate. Making friends after you left was no easy feat. Not to mention that Eddie was gutted that he thought he had to replace you, but as fate would have it, or your lack of life planning, you had no reason not to still be in Hellfire Club.

“God, thank you guys,” you said breathlessly, as Dustin slowly unwrapped himself from your form. He admired you just as much as Steve.

“Well, you’re worth it,” Nancy said with a wink. She knew you the best out of everyone. A weird dynamic; her a social class above you, with a stable(r) home than yours. She never judged you when she came over to visit, never said anything about your family or lack of it.

 With a wry grin you bumped your arm against hers and she did the same, a small gesture; like your version of a hug.

 And there stood Eddie, with his mane of brown voluminous hair. A smirk on his face, one he knew would ruffle your feathers.

   “Didn’t think I’d ever see you out of bed before 9am, Munson.” You said mischievously, crossing your arms over your chest. It was ridiculously cold this morning.

 “Only leave my bed for the best of ‘em,” he replied, chucking you a messily wrapped present. It was Christmas wrapping, and the tape was abysmal, but you were appreciative nonetheless.

Before you could open it, Mike’s stomach grumbled … loudly…

  “I second that,” Lucas said, rubbing his stomach.

“I third it,” said Dustin, “let’s go eat!”

[morganee]

Byler Fic Rec Week - Day 2: Season 5 speculation

and do you feel like you should by tellthatbrokebitch (@tellthatbrokebitch) (105k, complete)

Will Byers has a big heart, his mom always said. He loves and he loves and he loves. He gives it away because it’s too much to be contained inside one small human organ, too full to bursting. It’s always been this way, his whole life, giving away love; to crying girls in sandboxes, to loud boys on swing sets, to uncaring fathers who yell and break things and force him to change, only to leave anyway. By the time he realizes the love isn’t infinite, it’s too late to fight his nature, and his heart bleeds out, year by year, until he’s drained and tired and empty. He cries into his hand and wonders what will happen to him when he’s truly empty. Wonders if that day is rapidly approaching. Wonders if it’s already here. A hypothetical s5. They're back in Hawkins now and Will's friends and family are ignoring him. Meanwhile he's having dreams he can't remember and everything feels like it's falling apart.

no takesies-backsies by AttaboyLuther (@titforatat) (12k, complete)

"Why did you lie?" Will felt gravity leave him, felt his body untether itself from this mortal realm and float directly into the setting sun. The room was casted in a yellow-gold, beamless and directionless - and because Will was a sinner, he replied, "About what?" Mike's face creased. He shook the rolled up painting, tightening his fist around it. "About this, Will. Don't play dumb." (AKA: Oh, you know - just your standard Mike-finds-out-about-the-painting confrontation.)

Be the Boy by katbatsupreme (@byleresque) (17k, complete)

“Jonathan…” His voice was high and resigned. “You know there’s no way I could do that. There’s no point—he likes girls. Plus, he’s going through a break up. And all this Vecna bullshit…” He sighed heavily, voice crumpling up like a tin can the more he spoke. “The last thing he needs is me burdening him further with my lame crush.” In a blink Mike snatched up the walkie with trembling hands, shoving the plastic brick’s speaker hard against his ear. So. El was right. Will did have a crush after all. In which Mike hears something he shouldn't.

this is a beautiful start to a lifelong love letter by borealisaurora (5k, complete)

Ever since Will gave Mike the painting, Mike has been acting... weird. He's been standing closer to Will, there have been lingering gazes... but nothing too crazy, right? Nothing that Will can allow himself to dwell on. That is, until Mike starts kissing him.

These feelings are not my own by Corvi_dae524 (4k, complete)

Will Byers has enough to deal with already. After returning to Hawkins, he has been getting flashes of what's happening in Vecna's mind too often for his liking. Not to mention everyone keeps their distance from him in case he goes all mind-flayer-super-spy again. Well, almost everyone. On second thought, maybe it would have been better if everyone did stay away. Or, Will accidentally forges an emotional connection between Mike and himself, and he doesn't know how to deal with it.

[greenlikethesea]

deleted scene from the jargyle!

Hi all! I am most likely not putting this in the final chapter, because I am taking the story in a much more nuanced direction, so here's the fight that is mentioned in Three Weddings and a Funeral!

there's some stuff in this that i'm not super happy with, which is why i'm glad it won't be included, but please know that mike WILL have a redemption round it what is eventually published.

“Jonathan,” Joyce says.

Sometimes I wish it had been you that died instead of him, Jonathan thinks in a flash, and instantly has to grip the side of the table to grapple with how evil that thought is. Wrong move, of course, his knuckles screaming in protest, but the pain helps dispel the thought a little bit. Push it away like an embrace he doesn’t want. He looks at Joyce, who is looking at him expectantly, her foot tapping on the floor with impatience. He grimaces as his wrist burns from the exertion of squeezing so hard.

“Sorry, slept kind of weird,” Jonathan grits out, even though he didn’t sleep at all. “I just need a minute and then I’ll get to it.”

“You didn’t sleep at all,” Argyle says. 

Jonathan can’t help it – his gaze snaps toward Argyle, the hurt and betrayal cutting through him worse than the dull ache of his skin, the sensitivity of his scalp. Argyle knows to not get involved in this. They’ve talked about it, how the burdens of Jonathan’s family are Jonathan’s alone to work out. And he’s agreed, has bowed out of conversations even though Jonathan could see his jaw twitching with some kind of remark. So why stop now?

“Just drop it,” Jonathan says, biting his lip to stop himself from tacking on a pet name. He wants to, desperately, wants to soften the blow despite his annoyance, but he feels the tightness in his jaw, the fear creeping up in his gut, hot and acrid like his acid reflux when he eats even a smidge too much.   

Argyle is staring at a fixed spot on the wall, but his tone cuts as if he’s making direct eye contact. “No, actually, I’m not going to drop it. Joyce, maybe you should ask one of your psychic kids instead of your disabled one.” 

“What,” Joyce says, not a question, and oh, Joyce doesn’t know this part of Argyle. None of them do, not really. This isn’t something that Jonathan has had to share.

“I’m very sorry for your loss, Joyce, really, I am,” Argyle says. Jonathan can’t keep his eyes off the two of them now, his skin burning from embarrassment. It’s rare that Argyle drops the surfer boy effect, but when he does, it’s so frightening. “Hopper was a good man and died too soon. And I know you need support. But you have three kids, and two of them are more than capable of putting in some effort. You have me. We’ve got this covered.”

“Of course I have you three,” Joyce says, her smoothing over voice, the one that has everyone else convinced that she’s perfect and oh, that’s just nasty, just cruel, she’s a good mom, she is –

“So what do you need from us?” Argyle says. “From the three of us, that is.”

Joyce stops herself from snapping back with something hot, something mean. Jonathan can see the tension in her neck from her restraint, the tight chord of anger stiff and menacing, but Argyle is immune. This is tame shit compared to Irma, he’s learned, whose posture alone makes her opponents slink away, tail between their legs. 

She heaves a sigh. “He knows he can talk to me if he ever–” 

“He doesn’t tell me when he’s hurting. Why would he tell you?” Argyle cuts her off. 

“I am his mother,” Joyce says.

Argyle laughs, this bitter, mean thing that isn’t new, but it’s rare. “Could’ve fooled me.”

“I beg your pardon?” Joyce says.

“Joyce, I love you a lot,” Argyle says, which means he’s about to completely rip her a new asshole. It hurts to withhold his wince. “And I know you love Jonathan. But you have not been good to him. You weren’t good to him when I met you, and you haven’t gotten much better.”

“Please tell me how much I failed as a mother,” Joyce says. “You do not know what it’s like. You will never know what it’s like.”

Jonathan has been seeing his mother as a person since he was very young, but it’s rare that he sees the confused young woman underneath her self-assured mature self. It’s even rarer that he sees this version of her face off with anyone that isn’t her own reflection, staring herself down when she thinks no one else is looking. But Argyle’s got a glance that could cut through anyone, and he’s not backing down. 

“It’s not that deep, Joyce, so chill out,” Argyle says. “I didn’t say you failed as a mother. But you can’t deny that you put him dead fucking last, and that’s not fair. Everything you know about him is something that doesn’t exist anymore. And I can’t sit idly while you continue to take him for granted. I can’t.”

Argyle’s not just talking to Joyce right now, Jonathan doesn’t think. He’s talking to Irma, and he’s talking to Isabela, and he’s talking to every person he’s had to keep level and cool around while his own emotions get cast to the side. Jonathan feels paralyzed, glued to his chair as the two people he loves most face off in Casa Byers-Hopper’s busy, mismatched kitchen, still too shiny and new to feel like a safe place to Jonathan. 

“Argyle –” Joyce starts, takes in a deep breathe to no doubt launch into some kind of argument – 

– but a crash comes from the living room that completely snaps the three of them out of their tense trance, all moving in unison toward the direction of the sound. It’s El and Will. There’s been a tension between them that has been growing since Hopper was admitted into hospice, festering like a disease, but any other time than right now Jonathan would be oddly grateful for it. Will and El have both been permissive of each other’s bullshit for far too long, both in the habit of preserving Mike’s equanimity by avoiding their own myriad issues. It’s been time for them to have conflict, instead of just skating around it. It’s good for them to hate each other a little, so that they can build the love back up. He just wishes, for all of their sakes, that they would have picked a different time to have a blowup. Leave it to his younger siblings to interrupt the one time anyone has stood up for him.

“Why don’t you fucking do it?” Will yelps, with that awful, sniveling tone that has crept in from years of embodying what Eddie has snidely called New York Will in their conversations whenever he’s come up. 

“I have been doing the laundry,” El says, with that jagged staccato leftover from her youth that still graces her vocal delivery every so often. “You have done nothing.”

“Oh sure, caring for our mother is doing nothing,” Will bites back.

“You do not care. You are an asshole.” Another crash, followed by a yell from Will – something expensive that belonged to him, no doubt.

Fuck, Jonathan’s gotta get in there. He starts to get up, wincing at all of his awful bones creaking, and Joyce and Argyle immediately turn their attention toward him.

“Jonny,” Argyle says, his tone a warning.

“Jonathan,” Joyce says, voice sharp. 

“Later,” Jonathan says decisively, and both of their mouths snap shut in unison, which makes him laugh. It’s all so fucking stupid, all of it. “We can sort this out later. Let’s make sure the kids don’t destroy the living room, please. My cane?”

There’s a beat where neither of them do anything, just nervously glance toward each other, like working together is not allowed now that they’ve fully reamed each other out in front of God and everyone. Whatever, Jonathan does not have time for either of their damage. His siblings are about to destroy the living room. “My cane, please, I don’t think I can make it there without it.”

Argyle springs into action, walking past Joyce to reach Jonathan’s cane, which for some reason is precariously leaning on the refrigerator. He hands it to Jonathan, who grasps on its handle and uses that and the table to pull himself up. 

Alright, Jonny boy, he tells himself. One foot in front of the other. You’ve got this. Be the big brother they do not deserve at the moment.

It takes Jonathan far longer than he would like to get to the living room, Joyce and Argyle walking at a glacial pace to avoid stepping on his heels. When he gets there, the first thought that crosses his mind is loud and panicked: I am so glad Hop is not around to see what this looks like. His old record player is smashed on the floor, not irreparably broken but in at least a dozen pieces that are scattered on the ground between them. Blood is pouring from El’s nostrils. When Will turns his head to look at Jonathan, he can see Will’s telepathic tell – all the capillaries in both of his eyes have burst, giving them a demonic glow. And fuck, they’re not even taking turns with their telepathic blows – what isn’t already broken on the floor is up in the air, including Mike’s camera, which they’re both going to be upset about destroying later. 

In a split second of panic, he throws his cane into the melee.

In a matter of seconds, it is crunched into a ball, but the ensuing noise from its destruction and clatter on the floor is enough to shock the both of them out of their fight.

“Enough,” Jonathan says.

Apparently, that used all the strength he has in his body, because he feels himself start to wobble. The both of them rush forward and catch him before he really stumbles, the evidence of their psychic exertion on their faces, both their hands shaking as they guide Jonathan to the couch. Upon a more careful glance, Jonathan can see that Will’s eyes have no white in them, pink and red with burst capillaries, obscuring his irises. His slender body heaves with exhaustion. The cascade of blood from Eleven’s nostrils has painted her lips and chin a murky red-brown, and Jonathan can also see blood leaking from the corners of her mouth, as if her gums have also splintered. When Jonathan settles in the center of the couch, they flank him on either side. Will’s already crying, and El is going to be there in about thirty seconds.

“I’m sorry, Will,” Eleven says. She’s not great at apologizing, but she will if she has to.

Will laughs wetly, wiping at his eyes. “Fuck, I’m sorry. To both of you. Jonathan, your cane –”

“I’ll figure something out,” Jonathan says. He’s not sure what, but Max and Claire are staying at the house instead of getting a hotel, so maybe he can get something from her. 

“Super happy that we’re all sorry, but let’s clean this up, yeah?” Argyle says. He turns to Joyce, who is leaning against him like he’s a support beam. Their size difference is comical, Jonathan notes, not remotely for the first time. “I would like to finish what we started afterward, if that’s chill with you.”

“I think we can have the conversation without yelling at each other,” Joyce says, nodding and squeezing his arm. “Will you join us, Jonathan? Please?”

Jonathan looks at the both of them, these foundational pillars. The woman who raised him and the man who keeps him steady. They’re both looking at him, not expectantly, but…hopefully. He hasn’t seen that expression on Joyce’s face in a long time, one where all she wants from him is him, rather than something he’s doing. It’s all very kumbaya. Hopper’s eyeroll would be practically audible, if he were here.

Jonathan smiles at that mental image, but also at the people who are alive to see the mess. He squeezes Will’s hand. “Yeah, of course.” 

Without warning, there’s a jangling at the door, as someone attempts to open the three-lock system that Hopper had installed when they renovated the house. It’s a bitch on a normal day, but it’s especially a struggle if you’re doing it with one hand…which Mike, who went out to get groceries and some Aleve for Jonathan, would be doing, since he’s the type of person who tries to get it all done in one go. Of course Mike missed the entire fight. In a way, Jonathan’s glad for it. He knows that Will and Mike are better now, that the three of them have a stronger bond than ever, but witnessing his two favorite people attempt to kill each other would have probably melted his already anxious mind.

Upon walking into the destroyed living room, he immediately drops the bag he’s holding and springs into action, picking up items off the floor. “What the fuck happened here? Is everyone okay? Will? El? Jonathan, fuck, your cane –”

Jonathan doesn’t mean to laugh, really, he doesn’t. And when he does, it’s not at Mike. He just…he looks twelve again, instead of nearly thirty years old. His handsome face is completely overtaken by concern as he springs into action, starts to pick up things off the floor. Argyle, with a gentle nod toward Joyce, joins him in an instant.

Mike holds up the cane – or, rather, the mangled mess of what’s left of it. He holds it out in front of him while glaring daggers in the direction of the Byers siblings. “You guys really had to destroy Jonathan’s cane to work out whatever bullshit’s been brewing for the past two weeks? C’mon. You know that’s bad.”

[angelofrainfrogs]

Spend the Night: Ch. 29

~Coauthored by @zeitghest~

Fandom(s): Five Nights At Freddy’s: Security Breach

Description: The familiar melody of Grandfather’s Clock chimes through the echoing halls of the Pizzaplex…

Charlie wakes up in her Puppet’s vessel yet again with one goal in mind: to stop William Afton’s reign of terror for good. She enlists the help of Glamrock Freddy, the emphatic leader of the newest iteration of the Fazbear Band. But there seems to be more to this bear than meets the eye—and the same goes for the mysteriously familiar kid the duo find tinkering with animatronics down in Parts & Service.

With some help from friends new and old, Charlie’s journey into the bowels of the Pizzaplex will unravel mysteries none of them ever expected. 

Rating: T

Read on Ao3

Constructed in the 80s

With the purpose to perform

Mechanic animals powered by

Children’s souls reborn

With the revving of an engine And the grinding of their gears They can make you fall in love with fear

~Built in the 80s by Griffinilla~

Tuning back into the conversation at the mention of his hollowed-out human body, Michael caught sight of Gregory’s confused face before looking over his shoulder at Lizzie. He let out a small, strained laugh.

“Hey, if you guys can forgive me, I’ll let that go, too.” His mouth twisted into a smirk. “Besides, Lizzie, you scare the crap out of Ennard and that’s a big plus in my book. I’ll explain later, Gregory.”

“Oh, is Ennard here, too…?” Evan questioned, a hit of nerves puncturing his voice. He wasn’t necessarily scared of the weird clown amalgamation, more so just... disturbed. Cassidy would never let it get close enough for Evan to interact with, so he could never be sure of its true intentions.

“They’re outside,” Michael responded, jerking a thumb towards the door they’d come through. As he did so, a flash of brilliant orange stuck out in the corner of his eye. With a little gasp, he moved to Freddy’s side and took the bear’s hand. He waved his other across Freddy’s vision, a little concerned the robot was suffering from information overload because of how still he was. “Oh geez, I’m sorry, big guy… Are you still with us?” 

“Yes, I am present and accounted for,” Freddy responded, almost looking like he went through a mini-restart by the way his facial joints suddenly flipped from their lax, watchful pose into his trademark smile. He squeezed Michael’s palm, allowing the man to pull him a few inches closer to the group.

“Lizzie, Evan, this is technically Glamrock Freddy… but just call him Freddy,” Michael informed his siblings, releasing the bear’s hand when they stopped walking. “He’s cool, don’t worry.”

“It is a pleasure to finally meet you,” Freddy said honestly, looking between the lopsided clown and equally lopsided golden bear on the floor.

In his excitement, Evan’s suit had slipped to the side as it was want to do. He’d long-since made peace with the Freddy Fazbear models, and since this one was so different than all the prior versions Evan had a feeling he’d like Glamrock Freddy regardless. Quietly, he piped up: “Your design is rad, Freddy!”

“Thank you,” the animatronic replied with a soft chuckle, running a claw through Gregory’s hair. The gesture was meant to self-soothe more than anything, though he knew Gregory didn’t mind the affection.

Elizabeth stood nearest Evan, gazing at the large Freddy animatronic. She’d noticed him before, though she’d been most concerned with scouting for her brother. Now she could fully appreciate the design choice.

“You? Hanging around with Freddy? Wow, Mike,” Elizabeth remarked mirthfully. Cassidy told them how Freddy was a part of the group. Though from her understanding, it was mostly in mutual benefit for the only surviving kid.

“It's nice to see you both getting along again,” Elizabeth finished almost wistfully, the sound of circus baby's slightly worn voice making her sound somewhat far away. She was happy that her brother hadn't been on his own the entire time—though admittedly a bit jealous that Charlie had let Michael be the first to go into an android body. It annoyed her greatly, but she’d bite her tongue; why let that bother her when she could be happy with her brothers?

Gregory was happy to stick by Freddy, leaning into his dad's leg as he watched the reunited siblings meet again. After scanning Freddy inquisitively, Elizabeth trained her gaze back on the mysterious boy from earlier. She was fixated on something—Gregory could see it in the way her eerie green irises stared directly into his silver ones. When he remembered what Vanessa said, he flicked his vision away self-consciously.

She probably already knows, he thought, biting the inside of his cheek before scooting in closer to Freddy.

Michael caught this interaction and tried to deflect, rubbing the back of his neck with a laugh as he told them: “I kind of unintentionally possessed Fredbear here for a while, so he and I had lots of time to get to know each other.”

He glanced at the bear and Freddy smiled back, the memories of their first encounter now more endearing than anything else. Michael then returned his attention to his original siblings, patting Gregory's shoulder as he did so.

“Anyway—last formal introductions: Lizzie, this is Gregory. Evan, you've clearly met. He's been a big help through all of... this.” He made a vague hand gesture not wanting to speak their current troubles aloud just yet.

“I know you can't tell right now, Gregory, but from what I remember you do like just like me!” Evan piped up, pinprick eyes locked onto the boy again. Instead of shock or fear, his voice held nothing but avid fascination.

“Yeah, we're... not really sure what that's about,” Mike admitted with a laugh, ruffling Gregory's hair until the boy shoved him away. “Charlie's doing something right now, but she's going to be stoked when she finds out you and Lizzie are here! I'm sure she'll get you out of those things the second she sees you—then Evan and Gregory can really freak all of us out with whatever cosmic twin thing you've got going on.”

Evan giggled both at Michael's claim and the thought of finally being out of this rotting bear he'd been trapped in for decades. He'd gotten used to it, sure, but that didn't mean he liked it.

Gregory finally cracked out a giggle at the twin comment, glancing now to the moldy golden suit. Geez, he had a bear for a dad, a brother who’d possessed said bear, and another ursine doppelgänger he hadn’t even known was still around!

It was a good sign Freddy and Evan were both obtaining human suits—from the clues he'd gathered, it was better than him ending up in a Freddy costume next...

“We could get matching sunglasses and no one would be able to tell the difference,” Gregory pointed out, avoiding the self-depreciative side of his joke and instead focusing on the excitement of having a potential twin. Maybe Gregory could convince Freddy to adopt both the vagrant Aftons along with Michael and Charlie… Or maybe he was getting too ahead of himself.

A little gasp escaped the golden Freddy suit, the matted, moldy head shifting up slightly with excitement at Gregory's suggestion. “Ooh, yeah! That'd be so funny! We've gotta get matching outfits too, though.”

Oh boy, they're already plotting, Michael thought amiably, listening to the boys get along like a house on fire. 

“—I miss Charlie so, SO much! I hope we can see her soon,” Lizzie said, the faintest smile in her quiet voice.

Michael nodded and shoved his hands in his pockets. “We're not sure how long Charlie's going to be, so you might need to hang tight for a bit; she's trying to get some information to help us deal with you know who.”

“...Hey Mikey—you're a robot too, right?” Evan asked after a moment of silence, pinprick eyes locking onto the eldest Afton. “Uncle Henry said something about making you and Charlie new bodies, but he didn't give us a lot of info... Liz and I guessed they had to be some kinda robots, though.”

Michael nodded again, figuring that Henry probably kept information to a minimum so as to not get their hopes up in the off-chance they wouldn't get to see Charlie again to free them from their supernatural bonds. Why taunt Evan and Lizzie with “human” bodies they might never get to use?

“You bet,” Michael replied, waving his hand in a flourish from his head to his toes. “Charlie and I are bonafide androids now. Pretty cool, huh?”

God, it felt so natural joking around with his siblings like this. Michael had worried they'd never be able to get along again, but despite everyone's physical states, it almost felt like old times... Almost.

Lizzie reached forth, gently grasping Michael’s mechanical arm and poking it experimentally. After looking from the arm back to his face a few times, she raised her mangled eyebrows. “An impressive ruse. You even fooled me!”

She let go of her brother after the praise and glanced down to Gregory, who still seemed somewhat wary of the weaponized clown. “It’s okay. I won’t hurt you.”

Well, unless they were alone; that might be a different story, the compulsion still lingering in Circus Baby’s coding after all this time. However, she had a feeling Glamrock Freddy and Michael wouldn’t leave his side for now. In any case, it was the last thing on Lizzie’s mind as she offered Gregory her more human hand.

Timid, Gregory reached out. He wanted to get along with the Afton siblings—so snubbing Lizzie’s offer would be too rude. His smaller hand slid into her rough metallic grasp, where she would loosely curl her fingers around his palm. It was an odd fit, but a fit nonetheless. When Gregory turned a smile up to her, she gasped quietly.

“Oh he DOES look like you, Evan…”

“I told you!” Evan insisted, a golden paw lifting up for a brief second before flopping back onto the ground in a mildly exasperated gesture. “It’s weird, but also kinda cool—”

His words were cut off by a faint yelp of surprise from the hallway Michael and co. had entered from. This was followed by a slightly nervous laugh and a low voice stating: “Oh! Sorry, Ennard; I didn't notice you there. You’re unusually quiet tonig—is that carpet?!”

The thickening tension in the room released in a swift burst when, as one, Michael and Evan exclaimed: “Uncle Henry!” Their eyes met and they shared a chuckle, before Mike moved to meet Henry at the door.  

“Michael!” the bearded man greeted warmly, pulling his nephew into an embrace. It seemed that no one in this big, extended family would ever take hugs for granted again. “I knew I recognized your voice! Cassidy and I heard some commotion, so I volunteered to check it out.” Henry’s smile was almost giddy, the corners of his eyes crinkled in happiness. “I see you found your siblings.”

“I did,” Michael confirmed, releasing his uncle and beckoning him further into the room. “We’ve had a good talk… thanks for watching over them until I got here.”

“I did what I could,” Henry answered, his response both honest and humble. He stopped a few feet away from the group, acknowledging Evan and Lizzie with a wave before his attention was pulled to the animatronic bear and the child clinging to his side.

Henry’s eyes widened in surprise and he adjusted his glasses, taking in Evan’s doppelgänger. This was so startling that at the moment, he failed to notice the other interesting detail about Gregory’s face. Regaining his composure, Henry offered the pair another smile, thrusting out a hand for whoever wanted to approach him first.

“You must be the infamous Glamrock Freddy and Gregory I’ve heard so much about; I’m Henry—Charlie’s dad. It’s good to finally meet you both!”

For Gregory, it was nearly impossible to tell that Henry was a ghost. The sight of a normal looking human had finally put Gregory at full ease. He approach Henry and reached out to shake his hand. The closer he got to the palpable specter, the more he saw Charlie in him.

“Hi, Charlie’s dad! I expected you to look a lot…” Gregory paused to think about his words.

Deader? Like a mechanical bear himself?

“Spookier!” Gregory settled on, sending the man a well-meaning smile.

“Honestly… I kind of did, too!” Henry admitted with a hearty laugh, soon releasing Gregory’s hand.

It was then he caught a flash of distinctive silver in the boy’s eyes, causing him to tense up—but only for a split-second. Having much more tact then Vanessa, Henry chose not to acknowledge this disturbing feature just yet, though he did shoot Michael a look that promised, we’re going to talk about this later.

“I am honored to make your acquaintance, Henry,” Freddy piped up, grasping the man’s still outstretched hand with a beaming smile.

To him, this was akin to meeting a celebrity—the creator of Fazbear Entertainment, the reason for his very existence, was standing right in front of him. It was with reverent admiration that Freddy shook the ghost’s hand, and Henry’s expression seemed to match the bear’s in pure fascination.

“Wow… look at you!” Henry breathed, eyes roaming over the animatronic before looking between Freddy and Gregory with a raised eyebrow. “I’ve been told Freddy here is amazingly sentient, even for the Glamrock line—no offense to your counterparts, Fred.” He gave the bear an amiable pat on the shoulder, causing Freddy’s grin to widen.

“None taken—the realization was a surprise to us all,” Freddy replied with a soft chuckle.

The way Freddy brightened quickly at the sight of old Henry Emily brought a full smile to Gregory’s face. Freddy was so excited to meet the only good person that brought him to life—oddly juxtaposing to witness one of the biggest children's entertainment icons around nearly giddy at the sight of the man who helped create him.

“That's because Freddy's the best one—” Gregory said, suddenly feeling a cold chill running down his back. Gregory recognized that feeling of being watched, and he felt as though he couldn't move. A deep, bone-chilling laugh crept over his ear, catching Gregory by surprise.

“Har... Har... Har!”

When he whipped around, there stood the ghost girl from Charlie's séance. He jumped back, letting out a gasp as Cassidy's less distorted, more childish laugh came into focus.

“I've been waiting for you dorks to show up!” she chuckled, popping Gregory in the arm playfully. He rubbed the spot and rolled his eyes at her attempt to scare him, even if it had been pretty effective.

“Cassidyyyy!” Evan whined, already sounding like he'd been through this many times before. “If you keep scaring him, he's not gonna want to be friends!” When Cassidy simply stuck her tongue out at the rotten bear suit, it raised an arm and fell forward to shove her off-balance as she was just within his reach. “You're so rude!”

Gregory watched as Cassidy came over to Evan, playfully bumping into Ol' Goldie's leg with her hip.

“He knows I'm just messin'!” she said, sticking her tongue out at Evan.

In turn, Gregory shoved his hands into his cargo shorts and flipped her off subtly. If his dad and Henry weren’t standing right there, he wouldn’t have hidden it.

“We've been busy,” Michael said in response to the ghost girl, moving to help Evan sit up straight again. The feel of that molding death-trap of a suit nearly made him recoil at first, but Mike pushed through and managed to get his brother back into an upright position before gently patting his shoulder in response to Evan's quiet thank you. Turning to Cassidy, Michael shoved his hands in his pockets and added: “We don't have your prize right now, but we're working on that. We just came for a quick visit before everything goes down.”

“It's definitely happening tonight?” Henry asked tentatively, a slight frown creasing his brow.

He wasn't nervous, per se—at least, not at the thought of seeing William again. That he was quite looking forward to; he had some things to get off his chest. Henry just hoped this plan he and Cassidy cooked up would finally work... He didn't know if he or any of the other souls could handle another weekend like this one.

“It is,” Freddy confirmed with a resolute nod. “By dayshift, the threat of William will be out of the Pizzaplex for good.”

There was no room for argument with this statement; if the animatronic bear said it would be so, then it would.

Cassidy wrung her hands as she leaned against Evan's suit. A diabolical smile then spread over her braces. “I wanted to torture him for a little, but Henry told me that we'd probably accidentally release him again. So I'm gonna smash him instead!”

Elizabeth had scoffed indignantly, resting her hand over a rusted hip joint. “Why do you get to smash him?" It was a fair point even if pedantic or fussy.

“Who cares?! He'll finally be dead! I wanted the bastard gone forty stupid years ago!” Cassidy spat back, elbowing Evan slightly. “Back me up, Evan!”

“Whoa, whoa—first of all, what do you mean 'smash him?'“ Michael chimed in before Evan had a chance to respond. “And second, if anyone gets to do that, I should get the first turn!”

“Alright, alright!” This was Henry again, now physically stepping in-between the pair glaring daggers at each other. He gave them each a stern look to chill out for a bit. “The smashing aspect doesn't come in until the end, so let's not worry about that now. Besides, I promise we'll all get a turn—hell, I'll even give Freddy a go if he wants.”

Henry jerked a thumb towards the bear, who was staring at the group with a look of confused alarm. Notably, he now had both paws on Gregory's shoulders just in case they needed to step back from the vengeful ghosts for a moment if they got too riled up with a few decades-odd years of rage.

“I will reserve my decision to, ah... 'smash him' until I see the end result of this plan, if that is alright,” Freddy responded slowly, and Henry's face relaxed into a sympathetic smile.

“Sorry, we're probably just freaking you out, huh?” he asked, looking to the bear. “You're from my legacy of animatronics, so I'm sure you're not programmed to hurt a fly.”

“Oh, I think Freddy might surprise you,” Michael murmured, thinking back to all the times the bear had proven himself quite capable of holding his own and causing some major damage—intentional or not. “Trust me, he'll help us kick Father's ass without question.”

“He wrestled an alligator and won!” Gregory proclaimed with nothing but admiration in his voice. In retrospect, now that the danger was far away he could look back and see how freaking cool his dad is. He could even remember the time his father pushed Monty off him time to avoid the break in the catwalk without wincing now.

“The original plan was to break the whole animatronic cage Father locked himself in,” Elizabeth said, starting the rolling ball of explaining the plan. “But we have to extract him into a new vessel, or risk him still infecting Bonnie's parts.”

“Right—and as much as I've grown to tolerate you guys, I'm so tired of William dragging us back here with him,” Cassidy said with a perturbed glower, picking up the ends of a pigtail and twirling it around her finger. “We need Charlie's help to move your crappy dad into an arcade game. Then we crush it... You know, after you guys unpack your rage at him.”

She gestured towards Gregory. “I know you've only been here what, like, three days? But I'm sure you wanna rage a little, right?” Cassidy's anger might be a bad influence on Gregory, because he was just a little hyped up.

“—I was hoping to set him on fire, if that's possible,” he said in a completely serious manner. William’s demise was possibly the one topic he and Cassidy could come together over.

“Nope—tried that twice, didn’t work either time,” Michael said with a quick shake of his head. “Honestly, this arcade transfer thing sounds like it just might work…”

“I appreciate the rousing vote of confidence, Mike,” Henry laughed, patting the android’s shoulder roughly. Michael grimaced, not meaning to discount the plan by any means, but Henry continued before he could get a word out. “It’s fine—I completely understand your hesitancy. William’s a stubborn bastard, I’ll give him that much…”

Henry’s eyes grew unfocused, recalling his last failed attempt to keep the child murderer down. He couldn’t risk that happening ever again.

“…If it is any consolation, from what I understand of William, I also think this is a good plan,” Freddy piped up softly, unsure if he was fully welcome in this discussion yet. When all eyes turned to him the bear pressed on, his smile growing more confident the longer he spoke. “For our part, Michael and I are going to lead him down here by pretending that we are after Gregory—or, I should say ‘Evan.’ William is convinced that Gregory is his youngest reincarnated.”

There was a beat of silence, before the real Evan piped up in a tiny, shaky voice: “Dad… Dad can’t even t-tell that’s not me?!”

Of course the youngest Afton was disgusted by his father’s actions and could never condone or forgive him for all the torment he caused. But out of all William’s kids, Evan harbored the least pure, unadulterated hatred towards him. However, for William to be so deluded he couldn’t even tell his real son from a doppelgänger?

Now that made Evan mad.

The golden Freddy suit trembled slightly, though it was impossible to tell whether this was from the ghost trying hold back his tears, his anger, or both.

“H-Hey, don't take it so hard,” Gregory attempted to console. He touched Evan's grimy leg in a gentle pat. “He's old and crazy... Probably senile. You know?”

Lizzie completely understood Evan's anger. Being forgotten about and misremembered by your own father couldn't be pleasant to go through. She recalled a day after Evan died, when William called her three different names before snapping his fingers in frustrated surrender. Lizzie had to remind him on who she was. So reaching over, Elizabeth sighed and rubbed at Evan's shoulder with the blunt portion of her claw.

“He's a jerk, Evan,” Cassidy reminded him, being the first to hug his leg—the fact that so many of those around him actually comforting him hopefully helped, she thought. Cassidy remembered how Evan used to be ignored plenty of times when he was upset. Perhaps the influx of emotional support would do him some good.

“He's a shithead,” Michael clarified, placing a hand on top of the golden bear's head in consolation. He was seeing red now, wanting nothing more than to punch his father right in his stupid rabbit face. However, he resisted the urge for his siblings' sake. “And we're going to take him down for good—don't you worry.”

There was a little sniffle from inside the suit. “Y-Yeah... yeah, he's going down.” The pinprick eyes flicked to Cassidy. “I definitely want a turn when you smash the game, okay?”

Cassidy had no fear of the various moldy or bare spots on the Freddy suit. She rubbed her cheek into its fabric affectionately in an attempt to cheer up her old friend.

“Evan, I'd be so proud if you hit him first,” she admitted. Evan had spent so long being sad that his dad went crazy from the deaths of his family. It took decades of reminding him that his father was, as Michael put it, a shitty dad for Evan to finally start believing it. William embodied the saying, 'The road to hell is paved with good intentions.'

While the kids were consoling Evan, Henry had taken their distraction to study Gregory from afar. Those piercing, silver eyes and pale complexion were unmistakable: somehow, the boy had been given Remnant. So young, his body was already forever changed, cursed with immortality that Henry was certain the boy didn't understand. The fact that William thought Gregory was Evan added the missing context of why it'd happened.

Just like Henry wanted to preserve his daughter after her death, so too did William want to preserve his own children. However, Henry had taken the route of creating lifelike androids while his old friend chose a much darker path involving sacrificing innocent lives for others—and for that, Henry would never forgive him.

Henry clenched his fists and looked to the floor, for a moment seeing Gregory as yet another failure lost to William's madness. If only he'd stopped the crazed man earlier, maybe Gregory would still be a normal boy...

It wasn't long before Gregory caught the stare of Henry Emily. The glower aimed at the state of his appearance was clear: he recognized what happened to him. Gregory realized maybe his appearance was far graver than he previously thought. He was probably going to find contacts after they leave this stupid place.

Oh crud, Henry thought when Gregory finally caught his gaze. The last thing he wanted was to upset the traumatized kid who'd undoubtedly been through things Henry couldn't even dream of.

“Hey, Michael,” Henry murmured, subtly gesturing for the man to join him as he walked a little farther from the group. Michael did as instructed, leaning in so they wouldn't be overheard when they were a sufficient distance away. Henry bit his lip before speaking again. “Okay, no judgement on whatever happened, but I just need you to tell me... was Gregory injected with Remnant?”

Michael winced, the blatant fact a stab of regret right through his heart. He nodded, eyes cast to the floor as he explained: “He was literally alone for five minutes—William rigged an old Fredbear plush with needle that sprung when it was squeezed, and Gregory picked it up.”

“Fucking bastard,” Henry hissed, and Michael's eyebrows shot up at hearing such pure, unadulterated rage from his uncle. Ignoring this reaction, Henry gripped Michael's arm with a heavy sigh. “Alright, well, just... keep watch on him, okay? I'm sure you know by now what that stuff can do.”

“Already on it,” Michael responded, now looking over to Gregory. As his eyes fell on the fatherly bear next to him, Mike gasped as an idea struck. “Hey, Uncle Henry, can we take Freddy's body up with us? Just so we don't have to worry about it later?”

“Of course—actually, you should do that soon.” Henry lifted his wrist to check his nonexistent watch, giving a strained chuckle at the instinctive gesture. “We want to make sure we get this whole thing done before daybreak.”

“Agreed—be right back.” Michael flashed Henry a grin, then hurried over to the group again. “Alright guys, as much as I hate to cut this reunion short, we should really be getting back to check on Charlie and drag you know who back down here.” He paused, turning his eager expression on Gregory and Freddy. “We've got a detour to make first, though.”

“Where are we… OH!” Gregory remembered the present promised to his father. Gregory’s hands were quick to grasp Freddy’s arm in an attempt to tug him forward. Much to everyone’s surprise, the kid actually managed to shift Freddy’s weight a slight degree.

“Come on, Dad!” he exclaimed before waving to the Afton siblings and Cassidy. “It was nice meeting you! Let’s hang out after we beat up that rabbit!”

Cassidy shot Gregory a wry smirk and Elizabeth pressed her hand over her chest. She was touched by his words, no matter how minuscule. The Afton daughter never thought she’d make a new friend after all these years alone and looking the way she did.

“Take care, you guys!” As Michael walked past, Lizzie grasped him by the back of the shirt to pull him in for one more hug. “You especially, little brother.”

“Har har—laugh it up while you can, sis,” Michael said with a roll of his eyes, turning to slip his arms around the large animatronic’s waist without question. “Charlie will get you out of there in no time. You too, Evan.”

The promise was firm and honest as Michael moved from one sibling to the next, crouching down to hug the golden Freddy suit around the neck. It only took a second for an oversized paw to raise up and pat him on the back.

“Okay, Mikey; see you soon!” Evan said, much more cheerful that he’d sounded earlier. When Michael stood again and made his way over to those by the door, Evan raised his paw in a wave. “Bye!”

The group waved in return, then headed out in the door they’d come in with Henry in the lead. As they walked he looked around curiously, squinting in the shadows.

“It’s not too far from here—just some pathways that are easy to get lost in. I swear Ennard was around though—ah!” Henry gripped at his heart, jumping slightly when the hulking figure suddenly shifted towards them at the mention of their name.

Henry had long-since come to terms with Ennard’s presence and its weird quirks of obsessing over Michael while simultaneously being unnerved by Elizabeth. Honestly, Henry was probably the one who actively tried to speak to Ennard the most out of everyone in the basement… although it wasn’t necessarily often he tried to converse.

Glancing side-long at Michael to see him tensed and glaring at the mass of wires, Henry asked tentatively: “I’ve got to know… what’s with the carpet?”

“I told them to be quiet if they insisted on following me around,” Michael muttered after a weary sigh.

Ennard raised a lurching appendage to give a jaunty wave to the group. They were happy to see them again, all while Gregory sought to help Michael explain. “Ennard tore of a bunch of the carpets to make a stealth skin…”

With a deep and distorted breath, Ennard pneumatically hissed out: “IT WAS THE PERFECT CRIME…”

Besides, it seemed that since then they and Michael were becoming fast friends!

Or that’s how Ennard saw it, anyway.

Together through the narrow passageways and maintenance rooms they would return back to Henry’s personal workshop. Those special storage cabinets sat closed, preserving the sanctity of Elizabeth, Evan, and Charlie’s extra android forms. One cabinet with an unfamiliar face was soon opened for Henry’s guests to view. The made-up man with soft, neutral features and shut eyes leaned sleepily behind the glass, patiently in wait of a personality to pilot him.

Gregory let go of Freddy’s hand. When they were powered down, the androids had an uncanny feel to them—lifeless and still like a corpse.

“Is that...?” Gregory begun to ask, but was unsure on how to phrase the question.

Freddy’s gift? Freddy’s new body? Was this Gregory’s new father?

“I didn’t have a base model for this one so… I hope it’s to your liking,” Henry said, wringing his hands together nervously. Michael lingered next to him in the doorway, giving Freddy and Gregory an opportunity to examine the android on their own. There was every possibility for the pair not to like the body Henry had so painstakingly created, and Mike could feel his uncle’s anxiety spiking in tandem with his.

“It is… That is to say, I…” Freddy seemed to be at a loss for words as he gazed upon the sleeping face that was to be his own.

The concept that he would actually have to leave the body he’d known since being powered on in favor of one completely unfamiliar was something that’d crossed his mind earlier, but it hadn’t quite hit him until this moment. He reached out and ever-so-gently cupped the android’s cheek, amazed at how human it felt—just like Charlie and Michael, anyone looking upon Freddy in this form would have no idea his insides were metal and wires.

“This is astounding, Henry,” Freddy eventually managed to say, moving his hand to twirl one of the striking orange locks of hair between his fingers. It would certainly be a huge adjustment, the full ramifications of which Freddy didn’t have time to dwell on right now, but he knew he’d be happy in this body when the time came.

However, in the bear’s mind his opinion on the matter came second. Glancing down at his son with a questioning expression, Freddy placed a paw on Gregory’s shoulder. “What do you think, superstar? Does it suit me?”

Gregory realized that Freddy may not even want to change. If he didn’t, Gregory would find a way to stay at his side regardless; the two of them worked out worse problems before.

But when he witnessed the sheer astonishment cross Freddy’s face, Gregory reached forward and held onto the false human’s hand. He lifted it gently and watched it flop back to its side when he let go. It felt real. If he squinted, he could even say that people might assume they were potentially related—though this might be wishful thinking on his part.

After a short moment of inspecting it, Gregory let out an encouraging laugh. “We could put a top hat on him. I don’t think I could tell the difference then!” He turned back to Freddy, wide-eyed and eager. “I think what matters most is if you like it or not.”

Gregory didn’t want to influence him too much. Even if the creation of Mr. Emily was everything he wanted in a dad. Strong and kind in appearance—though Freddy’s personality alone was all of that and more.

Ennard, standing silently behind the group, quietly clinked their hands together. They would likely never express this out loud, but the amalgamation would be happy to take this android for a disguise should Freddy reject it.

“I think it is perfect,” Freddy answered truthfully, giving his son a bright smile that he soon turned on the others by the door. “Thank you, Henry. I do not think I can ever fully express my gratitude for this…”

“Don’t say another word, Fredbear,” Henry said with a chuckle, his whole body visibly relaxing. He liked to think he wouldn’t have taken it personally if they didn’t approve, but he probably would’ve. However there was clearly no need to worry, and he walked over to Gregory and Freddy with a pep in his step.

Upon reaching them, Henry carefully tilted the powered-down android’s head forward just enough for them to see the back of its neck. There was a thin, barely-visible line at the base of its skull that looked like nothing more than a faded scar. Henry pointed to this, telling the group:

“The control panel is here; just peel back the skin to get to it.” He winced apologetically, realizing how gross that sounded. “The data cable is in the back of the thigh so you can plug Freddy in when you’re ready. It should just be a simple data transfer, which I know Michael’s done dozens of times.”

“Gregory and I will get you all sorted out,” Mike reassured, amiably patting Freddy on the back. 

“Yeah! Mike already taught me so much about you guys,” Gregory assured Freddy in a giddy voice. He was excited for his dad, and couldn't wait to see how he'd react to his latest upgrade. After pressing a hidden compartment on the android’s leg, the exterior panel popped open to reveal a wound up and thin cord. He took stock of this before closing the hatch. At least this one came with his own data transfer link. Older models like the Puppet would have to find a separate one.

“You're in good hands, Dad,” Gregory assured. He looked up to Michael, eyes and smile wide. Everyone at the foster home would be appalled by their own jealousy, Gregory thought. They wouldn't even be able to stomach the fact that his dad was a cool rock star robot, potentially exploding their minds.

“ANYONE... CAN B-BE-BE BECOME AN ANDRIOD..?” Ennard cautiously asked Henry, their carpeted arm brushing against the shorter man as they came to stand beside him.

Henry glanced side-long at Ennard with a slight crease in his brow. He then looked to Michael, who’s android had been made based on the last time Henry saw him “alive”, which wasn’t long before he’d gotten scooped—meaning this was essentially the body Ennard had piloted around for a week. Henry couldn’t stop a shiver as he tried hard not to think about how the fuck this hulking mass next to him fit inside an average, early-20s human even with all its organs removed...

Trust William to make a creature with such a horrible purpose as capturing children to extract their Remnant, yet all it really wanted to do was be free. Watching Ennard now as they stared at Michael and his friends with a palpable sense of longing, Henry just felt… sad.

“Anyone,” Henry replied, offering Ennard a tiny smile. It seemed like he already had his next project decided on, though he’d keep this one under wraps. Henry had a feeling his eldest nephew would not appreciate it, no matter how good the intentions were.

“Henry said we can take Freddy’s new body upstairs and stash it in his charging pod in the back room,” Michael was explaining to the pair next to him. He raised an eyebrow at the bear, gesturing to his “sleeping” android. “Mind carrying it?”

“Not at all,” Freddy replied, and Michael helped him get the body situated. Freddy ended up carrying it piggy-back style, the arms draped loosely over his chest as the head rested on a shoulder pad. The legs were gripped tightly in Freddy’s paws to ensure the precious robot wouldn’t fall during transport. “Alright, I am ready. Gregory, please stay by Michael’s side as we travel.”

It was true: Ennard was lonely. Despite having three different personalities to intermingle inside one body, after a while even that gets lonely as well. They couldn't entertain children—not after what they’d seen Circus Baby do to Elizabeth. With no purpose and no friends, Ennard was alone...

Then Michael showed up!

He said he wanted to help them. Mike fixed their sparking wires. He cleaned their dusty casings and tried hard to refrain from shocking them.

He did help them. Coming back each day with his promise nearly fulfilled…

And they even kept their promise to him: he didn't die.

Eventually, his hospitality wasn't enough, and Ennard could tell Mike's neighbors knew something was terribly, horribly wrong. So, it was best if people forgot about Circus Baby's Rentals, prompting Ennard to slip into the shadows for years.

When Henry admitted anyone could have an android, Ennard clasped their hands together, looking at Mike, Gregory, Freddy and his new body with a sparkle in their mechanical eyes.

“Hey Ennard!” waved Gregory, garnering the robot's full attention before grasping Mike’s hand for safety. “Can you lead the way for us?”

“ENNARD CAN HELP...” they replied slowly, meticulously attempting to make themselves sound softer and heartfelt. They wanted to help so badly.

“We appreciate your assistance,” Freddy was sure to tell the amalgamation, offering them a smile as he adjusted the limp body on his back.

Michael shot Ennard a warning glare, though this could've meant anything from “If you mess this up I will personally decommission you” to simply “I hate your mechanical guts.” He then turned to Henry, his face softening into an appreciative smile.

“Thanks so much for everything, Uncle Henry.”

“Please—it's really the least I can do,” the bearded man replied, adjusting his glasses in mild embarrassment—he'd received more thank you's and praise over the past three days than he'd heard in years. He pulled Michael into a brief side hug, then released him and crouched to Gregory's level, arms resting casually on his knees. He smiled at the boy, though it didn't quite reach high enough to crinkle the corners of his eyes. “You be as safe as you can, alright, Gregory? Don't take after Michael here and do reckless things just for the hell of it.”

Mike rolled his eyes in fond annoyance, though he couldn't argue with his uncle's words. He admittedly wasn't the best influence, especially when it came to taking risks.

Gregory hadn't had the heart to explain that one moment of having his guard down had already cost him his humanity. While he wasn't entirely sure what the Remnant would do to his body in the long run, Gregory would try to live cautiously—even if he could potentially heal himself faster. Gregory met Henry’s eyes with a stare before giving him a tight-lipped nod.

“I'll be extra careful for us both, Mr. Emily,” Gregory said, his tight smile relaxing into something more genuine the more he spoke. “Thank you for giving my dad your robot!”

Moving for the exit, Ennard looked into the hall for any rogue robots. The strange patterns on their body was sure to distract as much as confuse. This hardly mattered anyway, as it worked to scare off anything willing to hurt the found family that had been working to destroy their evil master.

Despite their cautious pace, the group arrived back in Freddy's room in record time. Thankfully, they hadn't encountered any wayward bots along the way, and the only issue they'd had was trying to squeeze everyone in the elevators despite Michael's insistence that Ennard really didn't need to join them. Still, they made it out alright even if Freddy nearly got smacked in the face by Michael's flailing hand when Ennard tried to “hug” him around the waist again.

Before long they were in the storage area behind Freddy's room. The bear reverently set his new android in the charging pod, making sure it was secure from falling over before closing the door. With only a porthole's width of view, the body looked like it was in some sort of sci-fi cryo-sleep, waiting to be woken up as soon as the danger had passed. Really the group supposed that wasn't too far off from their current situation.

“We should check in with Charlie,” Michael stated as the group moved back into Freddy's room. He flopped down on the couch, laying across it and taking up as much space as possible as he unclipped the walkie-talkie from his belt.

While Michael fiddled with the device, Freddy turned to Ennard who was lingering in the corner underneath the vent. He tilted his head questioningly, asking the robot in a tone that implied no ill-will: “Are you staying in here with us, Ennard?”

“Ugh, Freddy!” Michael groaned, pausing with his hand over the button to call Charlie as he shot the bear an exasperated look. “Give me a break...”

“GLADLY,” Ennard replied with as much enthusiasm as three uncoordinated hosts in one body could muster. “WE COULD WATCH THE VENTS... MAKE SURE NOTHING IS TRYING TO GET IN...”

Ennard mentioned the very real danger that things could be lurking in the shadows tonight for them. The stakes were higher than ever, and there plan would be just to sit and wait outside Freddy's own air duct until it was time to head back downstairs. Nothing would get past them!

“Actually—that's a good idea, Ennard,” Gregory praised, noting Michael’s utter annoyance with the obsessive clown. “We'll be right here. I'll call for you when we're going to start the plan!”

Ennard nodded, feeling dizzy with the positive attention they were receiving now from the group. “GOODIE.”

They were on the verge of shouting, their voice somewhat grating like nails on chalk before thick tendrils lifted the heavy body inside the ventilation shaft.

“Thanks, kid; that should keep them busy for a while,” Michael muttered once Ennard was out of sight, turning his head to flash Gregory a sideways grin. Laying on his back on the couch, he held the walkie-talkie close to his mouth and clicked the microphone on. Harsh static instantly emitted from the tiny device until Michael's voice cut through. “Hey, Charlie? Come in—just checking on you guys.”

***

Previous Chapter ~~ Next Chapter

Looking for more? Check out the Chapter Masterlist on Tumblr!

Or check out the entire Wires that Bind Us Series on ao3!

[lovebugism]

Hiii can i request shy reader whos anxious about different things? I have weird anxiety lol that makes it hard for me to eat in front of people until im comfortable around them. Can i request reader x Steve who have been dating for a while and she tries to avoid eating around him, but she finally gets comfortable and Steve is just so happy, thank you!!

hope you like it angel :D — steve takes care of his anxious gf at a family barbecue (established relationship, hurt/comfort ish, cw for mentions of anxiety and unexplained issues with food | 1.1k)

bug's summer fic fest (⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)

The picnic table in Steve’s backyard is hardly big enough for all of you. Even when Max and El agree to lay out on a blanket together some feet away — and when Lucas and Erica spontaneously decide to race each other to the pool — it’s still an achingly tight fit. 

You, in particular, are sandwiched between two bodies much larger than yours. Eddie sits to your right, lacking any real concept of personal space, and Steve is off to your left. The latter keeps a strong arm around your back, hugging you closer to his chest every time the wild-haired boy accidentally knocks into you.

“Okay, me and Nance are getting something to eat,” Robin announces, standing suddenly from the table, visibly overstimulated from the constant conversation. Her eyes flit to your cowering form and then to Steve’s protective one. “You guys have fun with… this.”

It takes all of ten seconds for the others to follow behind them. Dustin and Eddie file through the Harrington family barbecue together, filling their decorative paper plates like they’re at an actual buffet. Mike and Will walk on pale, lanky legs around the yard — stopping once to talk to Max and El, then again by the pool with Lucas and Erica.

You and Steve are the only ones still sitting, but he hugs you to him like you aren’t. 

You can feel the early summer breeze on your skin now, without the crowd of teenagers suffocating you. You can hear the whispering wind, and the gentle humming of his pool, and the sounds of quieter conversation in the distance. You can breathe again. Almost. Still slightly strangled by a distant worry that Steve can read from here.

“Are you hungry?” he wonders cautiously, ‘cause he knows how you are about food. You haven’t let him in on the extent of it yet, but he knows it’s there, so he’s obscenely patient with you accordingly.

You glance once over your shoulder — at the tables of grilled meat and food cooked with love. Your stomach rolls with a distant ache, an empty one. You turn back to Steve and shrink under the weight of his honey-eyed stare. “Um… Kinda,” you confess in a mousy voice, shifting on the wooden bench.

His eyes widen in a soft look of surprise. You usually take a little more coaxing than that. 

“Want me to make you a plate?” he offers, squeezing your shoulder with a gentle hand. His pink lips quirk in a sympathetic smile. “We can take it up to my room if you want— get away from all these freaks.”

Your chest warms at his efforts to accommodate you. The way he loves you makes you brave. 

“That’s okay,” you shrug, trying to be cool even though your voice trembles. “We can... We can stay down here.”

Steve’s chest swells with pride. It bubbles up like sunshine until he’s beaming with it. 

It took you months to feel comfortable enough to eat in front of just him. And here you are now, utterly adored and finally brave enough to eat with all the rest of his shithead friends around.

“Yeah?” he hums, still smiling.

“Yeah,” you nod, gaze averted to your hands, which are wringing something fierce in your lap. You force a small laugh. “But it wouldn’t be, like, totally lame if I asked you to come with me, would it?”

Steve scoffs. “Like you even have to. I’m not let you get to the corndogs before me,” he jokes and rises from the creaking bench. “We’ll be lucky if Robin and Henderson don’t eat ‘em all first.”

He gets you laughing so you don’t think twice about meandering across the yard with him — about the eyes that are or are not watching you, or the weird way you are or are not walking. 

And because he keeps you laughing (and largely unthinking), you end up stacking your plate with more food than Steve’s ever seen you eat in public before. He almost mentions it. Almost. But he opts to keep his pride to himself, instead, lest he ruin the moment.

You return to the picnic table with all his friends, noticeably less anxious about being so squished together than before. 

And maybe it’s because Dustin and Eddie can’t eat anything without being sloppy — or maybe it’s because Will’s keeping you distracted with talks of his newest D&D campaign — but you down your food with more ease than Steve’s ever seen from you. Unworried about the crumbs sticking to your fingers and the very corner of your mouth. Completely and utterly comfortable here with him, and with everyone else around you.

The sight makes his heart swell. 

It’s like he’s falling in love with you all over again.

He catches you alone for the first time when you’re tossing empty plates. It’s not exactly the most ideal spot to steal a kiss from you — by the deck, next to the garbage bins — but it’s the first either of you have been out of sight from prying eyes all day. 

So, Steve takes the opportunity and grabs it. Literally. He cradles your wrist in a gentle hand and ushers you closer towards him. Your feet stumble in the tall grass. The tip of his nose brushes the bridge of yours, and you flinch. 

“I taste like cheeseburger,” you laugh.

“I don’t care,” Steve shrugs, face screwed, visibly mourning your mouth. “I taste like barbecue. Who gives a shit?”

He ducks down to kiss you again. And this time, you let him. 

He kisses you harder than you anticipated — a long and languid peck that takes your breath away. He tastes faintly of all the food he’d eaten before, something savory and strawberry sweet. It leaves you dizzy when he pulls away, lips smacking softly as they part.

“What was that for?” you wonder breathlessly a moment later.

Steve bounces his shoulder in a lazy shrug. His kissed lips quirk in a lopsided smile. “Nothin’. I’m just… I’m just proud of you, I guess.”

He doesn’t elaborate any further. He doesn’t have to. You cower at the notion of being perceived and scrunch your nose in disdain. “For being a normal person?” you joke with a cynical scoff. “For once?”

“No. For doing something that was hard for you,” Steve argues, still smiling. His hands rest warm and wide on the outside of your elbows. His thumbs rub softly along the skin there. “And for lookin’ real cute while you were doing it, too.”

You squint, trying hard not to smile at his smiling. 

“Stop flirting with me,” you grouse.

The boy’s pink lips jut in a playful pout. “But why?” he whines. “That’s, like, my favorite pastime.”

[wouldntyou-liketoknow]

I usually try to make some quick of sarcastic joke out of the synopsis for my stories. But honestly, I just want to stick to the basics right now:

It's been such a weird, random, and above all, fun journey to have worked on this collab with you, @insane4fandoms . Thank you for all the hard work, detail, and thought/emotion you've put into the comics, and for letting me attach my stories to those comics, and for being so incredibly patient with all the time writing takes on my end.

Thank you for the kind words/reviews you've been giving me with each completed snippet; I really don't get enough feedback for my work in general, so each time a reader is nice enough to leave their thoughts/comments, it feels genuinely amazing.

Although we've both clearly got a lot of WIPs on our respective plates, I do hope that we'll be able to have fun with something like this again in the future.

And to think, this whole thing started out with a simple meme-comic that you just so happened to mention Ness and my special fanmade scrungly in.

As always, I hope you enjoy the story!

___

Terminal Case of the Ol’ Switcheroo [Epilogue]

(Disclaimer: only two of the characters in this snippet belong to me. For more information about Caliban, go here. For more information on The Newcomer, my very own technical Reader!Character, go here. Murdock belongs to the Markiplier Cinematic Universe…but if you’d like to see my personal headcanons about him, go here. And if you’d like to learn about the mob these guys all work for, go here.)

(One more thing: I’ve actually written a full character analysis on the dynamic between Mad and Caliban. If you’re interested, please feel free to check it out here.)

(Trigger Warnings: blood/gore, knives/blades, implied kidnapping, implied violence, talk of murder/death, mentions of cannibalism, mentions of illegal business, eating/drinking, implied stalking, strong language. Please let me know if I missed anything.)

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4

___

Four days later…

Considering they’d been roommates for so long, Ness and Jack had grown accustomed to snide comments about the former keeping his own vehicle. He lived with a cabbie, didn’t he? Why not just enjoy the service? 

Well, first of all: No. That whole idea was just rude on so many levels. 

Second of all: The whole concept of roommates revolved around two or more people actually being able to stand living with one another. And yes, circumstances varied, but constantly begging for rides was a good way to tip that Jenga tower with a quickness. 

Third of all: Yes, Jack was willing to help out those he was close to. Even so, he was a friend, not just some personal chauffeur. 

Fourth of all: As stated before, Ness was an adult who had his own damn car…which had been at the local garage getting some much-needed repairs since the beginning of the week. Hopefully it would be ready to drive again soon. 

It’d been a hot minute since Ness had needed assistance from Jack—well, technically he’d already gotten some help before today. Back when his roommate and Abby had found him and Mike hiding in the storage closet at Sparky’s. 

Maybe that was why this particular evening felt ever-so-slightly surreal as the air was filled with their quiet chatter. 

“…So, how’s Mike been?” Jack asked, the wheel slowly spinning under his hands. 

“Better,” Ness replied, resting his chin on his palm and gazing through the passenger window. “The loopiness lasted longer than I thought it would, but it’s definitely gone by now.”

Part of him said this to reassure his friend.

Another part of him, meanwhile, said it to reassure himself as the image of a needle sinking into Mike’s neck flickered behind his eyes. 

Jack snorted. “Since when is that guy not at least a little loopy?”

Ness raised an eyebrow, smirking. “I mean, from what I’ve heard, he’s still mad at you for letting Abby hold Buckshot.”

The intended retort seemed to die on Jack’s tongue. He glanced at Ness out of the corner of his eye before he started sputtering. “That—that was an accident, I swear! I didn’t even realize I’d set it down; she only picked it up because I was busy helping you carry Mike! She was just trying to help!”

“Hey, I’m not denying all that,” Ness mentioned, holding up his hands in a defensive gesture. He paused before folding his arms across his chest. “...But you’re still gonna have to make it up to him.”

Jack heaved a long-suffering sigh, shifting in his seat (which the aforementioned Buckshot was now resting underneath, tucked into that hidden compartment and waiting for another emergency on another day). 

“You can’t say I didn’t show her how to properly handle that stuff earlier,” he murmured. “Better to teach ‘em basic safety when they’re young.” 

Ness nodded, humming in vague agreement.

Afterward, a different type of silence settled into the air. A layer of ice that anyone could walk on, but no-one ever really wanted to be the one to break. 

The two of them spent the next few minutes glancing at one another out of the corners of their eyes, both trying so furiously to look like they were just existing together that they only succeeded in making the obviousness unbearable. 

Jack carefully took one hand away from the wheel, guiding it toward himself. He began fidgeting with the puka shell necklace that Ness had never actually seen him take off. He took the time to gently spin each of the shiny, pale-as-bone-china little shapes between his fingers. The same way he always did when he was thinking. 

Or, to be more precise: when he was nervous. 

He’d already taken these recent rides as opportunities to ask Ness things. To remind Ness about things. 

Was Ness feeling okay? Was he drinking enough water? Why hadn’t Ness told Mike about the stalker-issue when it’d first started out?

If Ness really didn’t want to say anything about what had happened a few nights ago, then that was his business…

But still, if there was anything Ness ever needed to get off his chest, about how things were going in his life, he could trust his roommate to listen. He knew that, right?

Of course, this was all just more evidence supporting how good of a roommate Jack was. He looked out for his buddies. He was willing to make himself content with an explanation as simple (sometimes infuriatingly so) as Hey, it just be like that sometimes.

Ness chewed his lip. 

He had a legitimate reason for keeping secrets right now. He was only doing it to keep his circle safe.  

That didn’t change the fact that it still made him so damn nervous—

THUNK

Just as the cab turned a very familiar street corner, just as it rolled underneath a very familiar tree growing by the sidewalk on said corner, a blurry figure came plummeting down just before the windshield. 

Jack yelped, his car screeching to a halt as he stomped on the brake pedal. 

Ness all but trebuchetted against the back of his seat, letting out a short scream that was much higher-pitched than he’d care to admit.  

The figure shook itself, a bushy tail waving about as it began to cautiously sniff at the metallic embrace of its one-in-a-hundred-chance-random-landing-pad. 

It took exactly five whole seconds of breath-holding and staring before the two of them realized that the culprit was just a clumsy squirrel who’d fallen off a branch somewhere above. 

Naturally, Jack was the first to snap out of it. 

He rolled his window down halfway, then called out, “What’re you doing?”

The squirrel’s only response was to freeze again, tiny nose twitching and beady eyes contemplating. 

“…Don’t walk on my hood!” Jack ordered. He waved a hand at the windshield. “C’mon, shoo! Shoo!”

Once the squirrel had taken the hint to hop off and scurry across the street to climb the trunk of a completely different tree, Jack resumed driving, only to stop yet again a couple minutes later. 

Ness rolled his shoulders as he unbuckled his seatbelt, pushing the passenger door open. “Thanks, man.”

“No problem.” Jack smiled, nodding as the waiter stepped out into the night. That was another green-flag for the guy: he didn’t often mind when his roommate decided to spend the night somewhere else. “See you tomorrow!”

“Tomorrow!” Ness echoed, hefting the door shut. He took a few seconds to wave as the taxi headed off, ready to start searching for any potential riders.

With that, Ness turned and started walking up the Schmidt driveway. 

He’d been prepared to use the extra key that was hidden somewhere on the porch, but the front door swung open right as he climbed the short concrete steps.  

Abby stood in the threshold, smiling as she reached out to hug him. “Hi, Ness!”

“Bitty!” Ness replied, immediately returning the embrace, his surprise only lasting so long. It was just so good to see her happy, the way kids deserved to be. He’d only ever seen her frightened once, and he hoped he wouldn’t have to again for a long time. 

“Ah—hold on, why are you here?” He asked as the girl tugged him inside by the arm. “What about—?” 

He stopped short, watching as Mike poked his head out of the kitchen and came traipsing over, hands in his pockets. “Hey.”

“...Hey,” Ness greeted, his chest suddenly feeling a bit lighter. “What happened to your shift?” 

Mike shrugged. “The boss brought in some extra help before I got there; turns out her niece wants to learn the trade, so I guess she’s being taught through volunteering. I was told that the schedules would be updated by tomorrow.”

Ness hummed, “Huh. That’s…oddly wholesome.”

“‘Oddly?’” Mike repeated. 

Ness merely raised his eyebrows, and the way Mike offered a half-nod-half-shug indicated that he got the point. 

Sarcasm aside, it was good to know that things were going smoothly with the job Mike had been working ever since he’d lost the gig at Freddy’s. Acting as security for an animal shelter had to be one of the best things for bouncing back. Even if it’d caused near-incessant levels of pestering from Abby (and sometimes Ness) for a puppy or kitten or a kitten and a puppy. 

“Well, what about your shift?” Mike asked. “Everything go okay for you?”

Ness smiled, nodding. “Yeah. Just the same stuff as usual. No bad customers this time, thankfully.”

Abby’s face fell at that, her eyes growing sympathetic. “I wish there were never any bad ones.”

Ness shrugged. “Yeah, me too. But that’s just life. What’re you gonna do?”

Abby thought for a moment before mischief etched its way along her features. “Smack ‘em with a plate! Or, or! If they complain about a drink, just pick it up and dump it on their heads!”

Ness threw his head back, cackling. “Sometimes I really wish I could. But even if my coworkers have my back, I’d still get in trouble.” 

Abby pouted again. “Why don’t the bratty snobs ever seem to get in trouble for pushing you guys around?”

Ness paused, his laughter coming to an abrupt halt. Putting on a somewhat serious face, he knelt down and loudly whispered, “Look, as much as I love the concept of fast-learning and teaching stuff early…I’m not sure you wanna dive into philosophy just yet.”

Abby giggled, playfully rolling her eyes as she headed over to her blanket fort and began making slight adjustments.

“Oh, by the way,” Mike declared as he settled down onto the living room couch. “I’m onto your little scheme.”

Ness froze, the dark blue waist-apron he’d just untied slipping through his fingers and fluttering to the floor. 

No…no, he had to be mistaken. Mike had to be bluffing. 

Three whole days had passed since the incident, and nothing had happened at all. 

Sure, there was still a cold, clammy knot of dread taking up space in his stomach. 

Sure, he hadn’t been able to get much sleep last night, so he’d decided to make use of that time by researching the rumors about a macabre museum states and states away that had just re-opened its doors to the public after months of closure, and he’d been trying to listen to music all the while, but he’d had to keep taking his earbuds out because he thought he’d heard something moving outside. 

Sure, he’d been unable to help but brace himself to feel movement somewhere directly behind him, brace himself for that movement slowly-but-surely creep closer until he could feel hot breath tinged with something metallic on the back of his neck.

…And sure, Ness—and the trick candles he called nerves—had been wrong. Apart from himself, Mike, and Abby, the house had been vacant last night. No intruders. No silhouettes looming in outside, trying to stay away from the beam of the streetlamps on the sidewalks. 

But in the grand scheme of things, life had gone back to normal. (As normal as it could be at Sparky’s and in the Schidmt household, at least.)

“What do you mean by that?” Ness asked, trying desperately to keep his tone of voice playful. He tilted his head to the side, smiling wider to take any focus away from how pale he’d suddenly gotten. 

Mike snorted. Though he didn’t look at Ness, too preoccupied with fishing his water bottle from his work-bag, an eye-roll was evident in his voice. “You know exactly what I mean.”

Ness, unsure what else to do, found himself carefully glancing at his boyfriend’s sister. 

Abby looked just as lost as he was, her little brow furrowed in confusion. Her big, warm doe-eyes, however…if he looked close enough, he could see a tinge of something else. It wasn’t concrete understanding, thank God. 

But still, even if she’d apparently made peace with letting him keep a secret or two, she still had her questions. And even if those questions wouldn’t see the light of day because she cared about Ness’ feelings, they still wouldn’t be going anywhere for a while.

Ness had kept his word, for everyone’s sake. He’d stayed quiet. It’d been fortunate that everyone had been so focused on Mike in the aftermath, but even though that had only lasted so long…he’d done his part. 

Whenever Jack or Abby tried to ask him about where he’d been or what exactly he knew or where his demented doppelganger had disappeared to, he’d managed to mislead them, to steer the conversation away from all the gory details. 

And, as far as he could tell, his tactfulness had pulled through. 

It just wasn’t possible for Mike to know…

“Trying to get me to open up a disguised glitter bomb, or a paint cannon, or one of those stupid spring-loaded plastic snakes,” Mike continued, a wry, exhausted grin spreading across his face. “All to get back at me for a mistake I made months ago. Don’t deny it; maybe you have other people fooled, but I know how petty you really are.” 

He chuckled, running a hand through the mess of short, frizzy, dark brown curls atop his head. “As if Abbs wasn’t already the reincarnation of Kevin McCallister. Now I’ve gotta deal with your tricks, too.”

…And just like that, an invisible tidal wave crashed over him. A suspsiciously loud sigh of relief was almost knocked out of his chest, but Ness was quick, keeping it trapped where it belonged.

“Whaaaaaaat? No, no-no-no, that’s got nothing to do with you. I mean—well, it’s just—the craft store has been having a ton of great deals lately, so…” Ness stammered, putting on a mask of overexaggerated, poorly-hidden anxiety. 

Ironic how that was helping to relieve his true nervousness.

He then threw his fresh stutter out the window, raising his hands to his face like a cheap imitation of Edvard Munch’s The Scream, he turned his attention to Abby. “…He’s figURED IT OUT! WE’RE COMPROMISED!” He rushed forward, snatching a decorative pillow from the armchair and raising it over his head like a grenade. “GET HIM, GET HIM!” 

Abby’s eyes widened, a lovely, excited, mischievous smile manifesting out of nowhere. She stood up, grabbing two more pillows from her blanket-fort and letting out a sound that was equal parts war-cry and laughter as she executed an impressive running-leap to tackle her older brother. 

Mike moved far too slowly, unable to shield his face from the onslaught in time. He fell back onto the couch cushions, laughing and yelping in mock-protest. It was unclear whether he was encouraging Abby’s play-fighting to make her feel strong, or just playing it off like he was holding back to cover up the fact that he was so quickly neutralized by a ten-year-old who wasn’t even half his size.  

Though the pillow-fight only lasted for a couple blissful moments, Ness was still out of breath by the time everyone was holding still again. (Really, though, you couldn’t blame him. The sudden ambush had been absolutely devastating, because Abby was the crown-queen of plushie-weilding assassins, thank you very much.)

Mike heaved a sigh, giving Abby one last noogie before correcting his posture and plucking the remote up from the floor. 

“Seriously, though,” he announced as the TV’s screen sparked to life, “one of your orders was sent here again. I left it on the table.” He nodded over to the dining room’s hollow doorway. 

Ness blinked, leaning against one of the sofa’s armrests. “I haven’t ordered anything lately.” 

“You’re really still going with the joke, huh?” Mike smirked. “Go see for yourself. Not like it’s the first time this has happened. I’ve told you before that I don’t mind.” He paused, pursing his lips. “...But still, a heads-up would be nice.”

Confused as he was, Ness couldn’t really deny that last part. Sometimes the mailroom back at the apartment complex was blocked off or closed for whatever reason. And jumping through all those hoops that were supposedly vital for reclaiming lost stuff at the depot…yeah, he wasn’t sure why archaic forms of torture like that were still legal. 

Besides, Ness had been staying over at this place more and more often, so…

Shrugging to himself, Ness turned on his head and wandered over. He went to the kitchen first, approaching the washing machine and dryer that had been set up in the corner. The freshly-repaired window seemed to give the whole area a little extra gleam.

(Then again, that gleam would apply to any place that didn’t have shards of broken glass strewn about the floor.)

After chucking his waist-apron into the former and turning its dial to the right setting, he took a seat at the dining table. 

There was, indeed,  a yellow mailer package waiting patiently for him. 

Squinting, Ness reached over and pulled it closer. He lifted it up, shaking it carefully. Nothing inside seemed to rattle or sway, but there was an obvious weight to it. 

“I found it on the porch this morning,” Mike called from the living room. “Come to think of it, it must’ve been delivered way earlier than the mail usually is.”

Ness tore the folded flaps at the top open, causing a bundle of red tissue paper to slide out. With a quiet, curious hum, Ness took that bundle into his hands and ripped it away by one edge to reveal…the same bundle, only slightly smaller and shrouded by black tissue paper. 

He tore the black covering away to discover another sheet of red.

Once the second red sheet was gone, another black sheet appeared udnerneath. 

Red paper, black paper, red paper, black paper, red-black-red-black-red-black-red-black…

Just as Ness began to worry that this would turn into a multi-hour endeavor, he ripped away the thirteenth red sheet and found a tight wad of bubblewrap. He had to fish out his pocket-knife to cut the tape away, but soon enough, he was peeling away the final layers to reveal the small prize at the center. 

Ness held it between his forefinger and thumb, raising it closer to his face. 

“A frog?” Abby wondered as she trotted into the room, zeroing in on the bubblewrap that was silently demanding to be popped.

Ness nodded, turning the shiny enamel pin to and fro, gazing at the bright yellow material, complimented by splotches of black.  Its back was to the world, legs stretching out at angle that hinted it was trying to climb along something.

“A poison dart frog,” he corrected.

“Ooh! Okay, so, a really, really dangerous one!” Abby mused. She leaned closer to get a better look. “Well, I think it’ll look nice with your other one. Did you get one for Mike? So you guys can keep matching?”

Ness shrugged and smiled, knowing that she meant the pride pin he often wore on his leather jacket (a frying pan adorned by wide stripes of pink, yellow, and sky-blue), as well as the one he’d gifted Mike shortly after they’d started dating (a cassette tape with horizontal lines of pink, violet, and cobalt). 

As nice as the memories were, and as pretty as this dart frog pin was…that did nothing to change the fact that Ness did not remember ordering this. At all. 

Yeah, online shops like Etsy were addictive, and yeah, Ness had a habit of ordering several items at once. But he only did that kind of stuff around holidays or birthdays; he was a waiter, after all.

A small eruption of plinks and dings and chimes came rattling through the air. 

In a different time or a different situation, hearing the abrupt, unmistakable call of a pinball machine in a place that had no such machines installed anywhere might be cause for slight panic. 

However, considering Ness had set such a classic sound as his ringtone in favor of the generic options, this managed to be as casual as it was disruptive. 

Still holding the dart frog pin in one hand, Ness got back to his feet and picked his phone up from the kitchen counter. 

The screen read Unknown, with only a blank profile to offer.

Ness raised an eyebrow. Like many people, he’d gotten used to scam and spam alike; in fact, with a little help from Jack (and, later on, Abby), he’d learned some efficient ways deal with them. Mainly via using the unbridled power of second-hand embarrassment to make whatever desperate thief hang up within ten seconds. 

…But, of course, there was always the chance that the call was legitimate, that a friend’s number had changed for whatever reason, that kind of stuff. 

So, Ness tapped the Accept icon and raised the phone to his ear. “Hello?”

“Hey there, Ness,” a voice greeted.

Ness’ eyes widened. His lips parted with a short, low gasp for air. Something with jagged edges crawled through his guts. 

“...S-sorry, do I know you?” The question came out more on instinct than intention. While doubt did have a reputation for acting up at the wrong times, Ness knew that it had nothing to do with this. 

“I’m sure I’m in your brain somewhere,” the voice replied, his tone an invisible pen that drew a sly grin along his face. “I know trauma does some funny stuff, but you don’t strike me as the type to edit your own memories as part of coping. Don’t try that in the future, by the way. Never ends well for anyone.” 

Though Ness wasn’t sure how to respond to a comment like that, his understanding was immediate.

Because the voice wasn’t exactly familiar…but he still recognized the speaker. 

Hell, he could picture rows of teeth that glinted in dim light, that seemed a tad too sharp the longer you looked at them. He could imagine that voice drifting through those teeth. 

He could remember seeing his very reflection against the silver material of one that clearly hadn’t grown from the speaker’s gums like all the rest. 

Ness blinked, and he was suddenly moving again. Away from the dining table. Past the living room. Down the short, narrow hallway. Into the very bedroom he and Mike had started sharing during his visits. 

He closed the door as softly as he could, though the click of the lock being engaged felt deafening.

“Are there any Sidneys with you right now? Or just in town at the moment? I think I might know a guy who’s been trying to get ahold of one.” A wave of snickering crackled through the microphone. 

Considering his life had temporarily departed onto the path of some weird, amatuer-ish thriller movie days prior, Ness wasn’t sure if he was supposed to start laughing or crying…or just hang up and chuck his phone into the wall and curl up in the fetal position to question everything again. 

That last option definitely wouldn’t prove anything, so he opted to start pacing the floor. He approached the window by the side of the bed to shakily close its blinds. “No, I don’t know anyone named Sidney. Is that a joke, or are you trying to sabotage one of your competitors?” 

“Not sure, though I wouldn’t turn down a chance to combine the two.” Caliban giggled again before sighing. “But the question isn’t anything like that. The question is: did you expect to hear from me again?”

Ness hesitated. He certainly hadn’t expected anything like this, but…well, you couldn’t have a stalker for months without having an extra tablespoon of paranoia mixed into your mind. 

“No, I guess. Not exactly,” he finally responded. 

Caliban hummed. “Ah, that’s good. In my line of work, sometimes you can get extra points for unpredictability.” 

“What do you want?” Ness blurted. “Why are you calling me?” 

“I mean, I held onto your phone for so long, I figured I might as well memorize the number. Just for the novelty, y’know?” Caliban explained, chuckling. “Plus…it’s really not often that I get a chance to check in on certain people.”

In spite of his anxiety, Ness raised an eyebrow. “You mean your victims?” 

“Uh, excuse you, I’ve checked in on victims before; it all just depends on the nature of the job,” Caliban scoffed. 

Ness shuddered, wondering about threatening and taunting mind-games this guy might have played with particular targets. 

“Besides, take a good look where you are,” Caliban continued. “You helped me set things right, and I returned the favor. You’re hardly what I’d call a victim.” He paused, then quickly added, “Well, not a victim of mine, anyway.”

Ness’ heart skipped a beat, thrumming in a harsh manner against his sternum. Memories of the packages, of the letters, of Mad’s face, all twisted with hatred in his snarling mouth and a sick type of light in his eyes.

There was no way Caliban didn’t already know who he was thinking about, so Ness simply murmured, “Is he…is he—”

“Dead?” Caliban interjected, his voice turning thoughtful. “Oh, yeah, no. He’s still kicking; I made sure of that.” 

Ness’ jaw hit the floor. “W-What?! But why? I—I though you hated him!”

“I do. And the way I see it, dying would be way, waaaaaaay too good for him. What with all the crap he’s pulled wherever he goes.” Another sharp, unhinged, hungry cackle slithered into Ness’ ears. “But on the other hand: getting caught and mauled over and over and over again? If that’s not karma, then I don’t know what the hell is.” 

Ness sputtered. Caliban’s place, wherever it was, was a few hours away from here…but what if Mad was somewhere out there again? What if he’d hitch-hiked with some poor soul who didn’t know any better? 

“Is he still with you?” Ness asked in a hoarse voice. 

“Getting right down to business, I see.” Caliban hummed approvingly. “Yes and no. Plans are just moving along.”

“Wha—okay, what the hell is that supposed to mean?!” Ness demanded, struggling to keep his voice down. It wouldn’t do to have Mike or Abby hear any of this.

“Take a wild guess,” Caliban replied. “Look, you’re probably about to pull a sign out of Hammer Space that says ‘HERE WE GO AGAIN’ and start waving it like a flag. But before it gets there, listen: you won’t be seeing him anymore. And neither will your friends.”

Ness felt something race up his spine. He couldn’t tell what it was, but it wasn’t a chill. More like a warm spark, actually. 

Caliban took that bewildered silence as the green light to continue. “It took a lot of work, but hey, I enjoy a challenge. Even if the idiot’s still living in Delulu Land, he knows better than to try coming after you.”

Ness lowered his head, starting at the floor. Mad had made it obvious time and time again that he wasn’t one to take things lying down, to learn his lesson, to just. STOP. 

But then, everyone had to at least take a few breaks here and there. 

“What did you do?” Ness asked, both out of fear and genuine curiosity. 

“I did some of the best I can,” Caliban chuckled. “Let’s just say that the face he has now certainly ain’t the one he was born with.”

“...Really? You’re serious?”

“Of course I’m serious!” Caliban seemed to be beaming at this point. “Watching one of your own kidneys get removed will do that. Not to mention the sections of skin I took. Gotta be thorough, don’t we?”

“O-oh…” Ness mumbled, a sudden bout of nausea swirling around his head. 

Mad’s voice pounded on his eardrums—all the threats he’d spat out back at Sparky’s. How he’d insisted that Caliban would just take a Two For One deal rather than sparing the same waiter he himself had been after. 

But he’d been wrong. That hadn’t happened at all. 

Somehow, it was obvious that Caliban was nodding. “What can I say? Butcher money where your mouth is.” 

And then he was cackling again, giving Ness ample opportunity to imagine the cannibal’s grin widening, his teeth gnashing the air, his eyes nearly feral as they bulged from their sockets. 

Sooner or later, the laughter slowed to a halt as Caliban took a breath. “So, did you get my little souvenir? What do you think of it?” 

Ness’ brow furrowed in confusion…only for him to nearly slap a hand over his mouth as it gaped open in shock again. Due to the shiny little pin still in his grasp, however, he couldn’t. 

“The dart frog pin?” He wondered, raising the object in question closer to eye-level. “This is from you?”

Caliban hummed affirmative. “And I’ll take that as a yes. The package looked so official, didn’t it? One of my friends is amazing when it comes to forgery.” 

“…Why? Why did you leave it for me? What does it mean?” Despite his relative relief about the state Mad was apparently in, Ness still felt wary. 

“Oh, c’mon, Ness. Think: why do posion dart frogs look the way they do? Why would any animal evolve neon colors instead of camouflage?” 

“To—to show off their toxicity,” Ness replied, part of the animal nerd he’d been in grade-school piping up from the back of his brain. “To warn any predators that they’d better not try eating them, or—” He cut himself off, puzzle-pieces slowly connecting through his mind.  “Or else…they’ll…regret it.”

“Right!” Caliban pronounced. “There wasn’t any time for you to actually see them, but…well, I don’t work alone. Never have, really. Not even when I take on solo-jobs.”

Ness swallowed a lump in his throat. Mad had mentioned Caliban running around with a mob…and Caliban himself had mentioned something about family before, hadn’t he? Was he remembering things right?  

“That pin I sent you isn’t the only one. There’s plenty more out there,” Caliban continued. “We use them as identifiers. To keep track of who our potential allies are. Same goes for enemies: just something to make them think twice before they try screwing around with us by proxy.”

“So…so, this means we’re good?” Ness coughed. 

“Yep,” Caliban responded. This time, his voice was a bit softer than before. “Look, if you’re really worried about it, then just get a tattoo. Ink like that absolutely RUINS the taste of the skin, plus it risks denting the price of a section on the market. Trust me: even the smallest tattoos can have that effect.”

“A-alright?” Ness cringed, equal parts grateful and horrified by the information. “And…you don’t want anything from me?”

“Nope. Just try to be smart whenever you feel the need to wear that thing.”

Ness nodded; he didn’t know why, since it wasn’t like Caliban could see the gesture, but there wasn’t much else he could do. After all, it wasn’t every day you were gifted a symbol of protection from a cannibal mobster who’d kidnapped you by accident because you just happen to look a lot like some other serial killer. 

“Sure,” he breathed. He felt…lighter. As if a bunch of invisible strangler-vines had wilted away from his shoulders after growing there for months. 

There was a pause. Caliban stayed on the line, though he’d gone just as quiet. Ness couldn’t imagine a scenario where the cannibal felt the same level of awkwardness as him, but anything was possible, right?

Finally, as the background cracked around his voice, Caliban stated, “Take care of yourself, Ness. A lot of people clearly do, so you shouldn’t just put that all on them.”  

In spite of everything that had happened—all the fear, panic, dread—Ness smiled.

Admittedly, it didn’t last long, as Caliban decided to add, through another small fit of snickers, “Your boytoy, too.”

“...Mike is nOT A BOYTOY,” Ness snapped. 

“Hey, it’s not my fault the guy looks like he still has a Myspace,” Caliban argued. 

Ness sputtered, trying desperately to hide how he knew that Mike did, indeed, still have a Myspace. “That—that—that doesn’t mean anything!”

“Sometimes it really does. Not saying Facebook is worth anything either, but still.” Caliban barked another laugh.

 But before Ness could try to retort, a short, high-pitched beep! rang through the phone, silencing the other end.

He pulled the device away from his ear, staring down at it for a few long seconds before lightly tossing it onto the bed. 

Then, he trudged over to Mike’s closet. The duffel bag he’d gotten in the habit of leaving here waited in the corner. 

Ness knelt down and opened it up, rummaging through all the spare clothes and toiletries until he fished out his cyan leather jacket. Careful not to prick his fingers, Ness attached the dart frog pin a little ways below the garment’s collar. As quick as the process was, he felt the need to hold his breath.  

The enamel glinted in the light as Ness held the jacket up; the little dart frog actually complimented the leather’s shade pretty well. 

Chewing his lip, he returned the jacket to its place and fetched a set of soft pajamas (the bottom half of which was covered in a tiny print-pattern of Mothman). Once he'd exchanged his work uniform for that, he unlocked the bedroom door and strolled down the hallway. 

He wondered if Mike and Abby would be up for watching a movie tonight. 

Movies always seemed to be the best thing when the world finally began slowing back down.

___

Caliban glanced up at the dark sky, breathing in the fresh, cool air. 

Another night, another impending job. 

Another vacant field that was miles away from any nearby cities (including both the Cove Port Inlets and that town surrounding Sparky’s).

He’d lost count of all the times he’d thanked his lucky stars that his cellphone been set up to not have any calls or texts recorded. 

He slipped the device into one of his jacket’s pockets—right across from the one his meat cleaver rested in. Then he circled around the twitching, heaving lump that he’d dropped on the ground only moments ago, cackling to himself all the while. 

Mad’s swollen, bloodshot eyes followed his movements, glazed-over yet still somewhat aware. Still full of pain and anger and bitter defeat. 

He had to keep squeezing them shut every few seconds, probably to try and combat the stinging, burning pain that lingered under the bandages that Caliban had begrudgingly layered about the incision site in his side. 

After a few seconds of panting and gagging, his busted lips pressed together in a nasty scowl. It was so very obvious how he wanted to spew all sorts of colorful words the cannibal’s way, but he’d already screamed his throat raw from the recent harvesting. He wouldn’t be able to say much for at least the rest of the evening. 

In fact, he wouldn’t be able to do anything for the rest of the evening.

Caliban knew that, in spite of the nylon binds wrapped tightly around his wrists, Mad would eventually free himself. But all the exhaustion left in the wake of his frenzied adrenaline would keep him from struggling until sometime the next morning.

“Remember, Mad.” Caliban knelt down to his enemy’s level, one hand lashing out to cup his chin, forcing him to retain eye-contact, fingernails digging into skin. “If I catch word of you so much as looking that waiter again, I’ll take one of your eyes next time. And if you try to set foot in the town he’s from, I’ll saw off one of your legs.”

Though he neither nodded nor shook his head, Mad’s reaction was still easy to read. He squirmed in place, trying to edge away, his eyes bulging from their sockets—not out of mania or glee…but fear. 

There was still hatred, of course (Mad could never truly resist his self-absoprtion), but there was no mistaking the strand of pure, unfiltered fear that mixed with his agony is such a delicious way.

“Not that I’d sell any of those pieces for a higher price than that kidney,” Caliban continued, a vicious smirk on his face as he harshly jabbed at those red-tinged bandages. “After all the crap you insist on getting yourself into…honestly, I’m surprised you haven’t started taking swigs out of your jerry cans just yet.” 

He released his hold, shoving Mad onto his back before standing up again. Never one to turn down giving off the same vibes as a shark or hyena or any other infamous hunter, Caliban resumed his pacing.

“Y’know, even with this always-coming-back thing that you never seem to shut up about,” he pronounced, “I think you’ve already been dead for a long time. The person you used to be died the day you started your so-called ‘career.’”

Out of habit, Caliban fished his cleaver out of his pocket, simply fidgeting with it. The tool was already pretty enough, what with all those wavey streaks naturally set in the damascus steel. But moonlight shining off of the blade made it look even better. Of course, that didn’t always compare to when it was spattered in red, but it was still a nice sight. 

“That’s why you were so obsessed with tormenting him, isn’t it?” Caliban wondered aloud, intentionally making it sound much more like a statement than a question. “Because you just couldn’t stand the fact that he’s not the same rotten shell that you are…”

Caliban gazed at the other killer’s expression. 

Sure enough, his words had struck a nerve. Mad craned his neck to sneer at him, trembling with rage. Though Caliban had only been occasionally dealing with him for a couple years now, he could easily tell that Mad had been the type of student who probably had an identity-crisis every time he couldn’t be the smartest person in the room.

“...But instead of even bothering to actually earn anything like what he has,” Caliban went on, “you just decided to try dragging him down to your level, huh?” 

The cannibal clicked his tongue, shaking his head dismissively. 

“It’s never gonna work, buddy. No matter where you go, what you do, who you kill…you’re never gonna be the better ma—” 

BWAAAAAAANNNN!

The classic blare of a car-horn came roaring out of nowhere, causing Mad to flinch and Caliban to nearly jump out of his skin.

The horn went off a few more times, very intentionally in a pattern:

BWAAA-BWAAA-BWAAA-BWAAA, BWAA-BWAAAN!

As Caliban whipped around to stare at the car that was parked on the side of the road, waiting for him just a couple yards away, there was a second or two of silence.

BWAAN!

…Okay, now there was silence. Caliban rolled his eyes, knowing that the car’s driver could see him nodding despite the relative distance. Slipping the cleaver back into his pocket, he began strolling over to the vehicle. 

“See you around,” he called over his shoulder. He only got a few raspy, unintelligible murmurs in response, but that was better than Mad’s typical, grating voice.

Caliban soon found himself stepping back onto the road, moving around his ride and pulling the passenger-side door open. After buckling his seatbelt, he looked over into the eyes that were currently hidden behind a pair of black-tinted sunglasses.

“Look, I’ll admit that I’ve got no room to talk about monologuing,” Murdock announced, his deep voice rolling into the air as he slowly spun the wheel. “But we’re still kinda on a time-crunch right now.”

“Fair point.” Caliban offered a combination of nod and shrug. “But still, you could’ve just sent a text if you really wanted me to cut things short.” 

“…I could always just make you walk to the job-site,” Murdock warned, groaning in time with how Caliban laughed at the little pun. 

“Except for the part where you can’t,” Caliban contended, “since we were assigned to take care of this target together.” It wasn’t the first time, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. When they weren’t squabbling over jokes, the two of them made a pretty great team.

“He’s got you there,” a voice that had slowly grown more and more familiar over time piped up from the backseat. 

…Okay, scratch that, the three of them made a good team. At least, that was the case whenever Murdock decided to bring his tagalong—the newest member of The Pentas Family—into the action. They were still being trained in the art of a contract-killer, after all. 

Caliban peered up at the rearview mirror to see Snare bouncing in The Newcomer’s lap, purring in that gravelly way only hares could pull off as they stroked his back and scratched his ears. Even if they hadn’t removed their gloves, the hare didn’t seem to mind how the scarlet-dyed leather felt against his fur. 

“Traitor,” Caliban jokingly called out to his pet.

The Newcomer smiled and shrugged, only to let out a small yelp as Snare pushed his nose against their ear. 

In truth, Caliban was quite glad that Snare had warmed up to The Newcomer so fast. Especially considering how shy they’d been around him when Murdock had first brought them along to learn basic body-disposal (the kind with dismemberment and disembowelment, at least).

“Yeah, you are needed on the job tonight,” Murdock agreed, glancing Caliban’s way as he maneuvered the car down the road, further and further away from where Mad had been dropped off. “You’re gonna be needed on the next upcoming jobs that we’ve had scheduled for months now. Those same jobs that were almost thrown up in the air when you decided to just suddenly run off without telling any of us.” 

Caliban pursed his lips, shifting in his seat. “Hey, c’mon, I didn’t forget about any of that. I moved as quickly as I could because of that; I was only gone for one night.”

Murdock furrowed his brow, taking one hand from the wheel to aggravatingly adjust the raven hair that tickled his shoulders. “Still doesn’t change the fact that someone vanishing off the face of the Earth is only a good thing when we’re responsible for it.”

“Aza was worried about you,” The Newcomer added, a bit of sadness creeping into their dark gray eyes. “It’s a good thing your wife reached out to explain when she did; The Boss nearly sent out a search-party.” 

Caliban cringed. Okay, yeah, he’d definitely have to find a way to make up for that. Just the idea of his sister being scared made him feel sick, and The Boss had already done so much for him and her…

“Look, I know I probably should’ve handled that whole mess differently,” he admitted, fidgeting with his jacket’s zipper. “But right there in the moment, when I figured out just what kind of mistake I’d made…I panicked.”

He threw his thumb over his shoulder, toward the back window. Though they were now well on their way with no figures still lingering in view outside,  it was obvious who he meant by the gesture. 

“You know who that was.” 

He paused, then added, his tone tapering down a few octaves: “You know that…that he goes after kids.”

Both Murdock and The Newcomer’s faces fell, almost in perfect unison. It was usually difficult to read the former’s expression, thanks to his shades. But right here, right now, it was clear as crystal that he understood. That he felt the same disgust, the same fear as Caliban had. 

The Newcomer swallowed a lump in their throat, lowering their head and holding Snare close to their chest.

The Pentas Family wasn’t made up of saints. Never had been, never would be. But when it came to the rules The Boss had set when the mob was first established, NEVER stooping low enough to harm children was at the very top of the list.

Murdock let out a quiet sigh, nodding solemnly. 

“...Still,” he mentioned. “This is—what, the seventh time you’ve gone after him? How stubborn can he possibly be?” 

“I’m not sure what he’s made of,” Caliban shrugged, staring though the window. “I mean, I wouldn’t be surprised if he wound up chopping his own damn hands off in the future. But he’s gotta call it quits someday.”

He folded his arms across his chest, thinking. “And until then, someone might as well make his life hell every so often. Just to remind him about that.” 

Murdock hummed thoughtfully, spinning the brass chain of his necklace between his fingers. “...Well said.” 

“Thanks.” 

The moments dragged by as a new quiet settled inside the car. 

The moon was hidden behind a swathe of clouds tonight, but its blurry outline still glowed right through them.

The wind howled outside, shaking any trees that dotted the fields around the road. It was a sound that never, never failed to be eerie. As if the breeze was promising anyone who dared have shelter right now that, if the elements couldn’t get them, something (or someone) else certainly would. 

Case in point: tonight’s target, whose hideout was apparently only fifteen minutes away from the forest that grew near the edge of the Cove Port Inlet’s city limits. 

The same forest the Murdock would be driving through, sooner or later. 

“...Did you really stab that guy with a broken broomstick?” Murdock blurted, tilting his head to the side, a curious smirk gracing his features. 

Caliban rolled his shoulders, baring his teeth in a sharp, shiny grin. “Yeah, I did.” 

“Wait, what?” The Newcomer gasped, excited energy flooding back into their eyes. They leaned closer, bracing red-gloved hands against the back of the front seats, glancing back and forth between their mentor and his accomplice. 

“A broomstick can do that kind of damage? Seriously?” They demanded, much more out of astonishment than doubt. 

“Sure!” Caliban insisted. He then nodded to Murdock, asking, “Hasn’t he taught you about improvising by now?”

“Well, yeah, but I guess I just thought about the more obvious things,” The Newcomer explained. "Like…golf-clubs! Since they have so much metal weight on one end, y’know? No doubt getting beaten with one of those would hurt like hell. But…wow. A broomstick as a makeshift spear?”

A rich, oily laugh seeped into the air as Murdock playfully elbowed the cannibal beside him. “Okay, now you’ve gotta tell them everything. Give us the full play-by-play.”

“All the gory details?” Caliban hummed, chortling right along. 

Murdock tried to scoff, but he was still distracted by the way his mentee’s eyes widened in time with an inquisitive smile. 

Caliban couldn’t blame him—it was nice to see a killer-in-training give off the same vibes as an eager student. 

With that, the three of them drove off into the night, the atmosphere around them full of chatting, laughter, and of course, the promise of eventual murder.

___

@sammys-magical-au @lexusinsannus @b-is-in-the-closet @im-a-weird0 @yourannoyinglittlesistersteph

It’s here, ITS FINALLY HERE

WHOOHOO @wouldntyou-liketoknow

This silent comic epilogue on my side seems to be a little bittersweet, no real conclusions for the crew for what the hell happened, but everyone is safe (the important ones are at least lmao) Caliban’s hair is different cuz of his tussle with Mad, he looks good tho- @crazy-obsessed-enby @iswmperson @lexusinsannus

Mike will be extremely loopy and sleepy, but when wasn’t he like that? lol Abby is just happy that her brother and Ness are safe, and Jack may or may not be a little upset he didn’t get to use his shotgun on somebody.

[quicksilverownsmysoul]

Dustin’s Hot Sister

It’s been a minute hasn’t it 😂 I’m trying to get back into writing so here’s this little blurb that kinda sucks but I hope y’all like it. I’m currently in my Eddie Munson Brain Rot era so you know I had to write something for him. Feel free to send in request for Eddie Munson!

Pairing: Eddie Munson x female Reader

“There’s no way you have a hot sister that works here.” Eddie leaned on the wheel, gesturing with a tilt of his head to the neon sign that read Family Video. Dustin wrinkled his nose at Eddie in response, arms crossed over his chest.

“I do too have a sister that works here. And I never said she was hot and it’s weird that you’re saying it.” Dustin countered, getting out of the van and slamming the door before he could respond.

Eddie shrugged, turning off his van and jumping out. He did a little jog around the front of the van to keep up with the quick pace that the younger boy had set. “All I’m saying is Mike told me she was hot and I normally wouldn’t take his word for it but Harrington confirmed it when Mike mentioned her. And the Harrington Hottest scale is the one thing I trust about him.”

Dustin rolled his eyes. “Yeah whatever, she graduated when you were supposed to graduate two years ago, so if you look in your yearbook you could find her instead of dragging me here to prove it to you.”

“First off you know I don’t buy yearbooks, waste of money and paper.” Eddie pulled open the door the the video store, doing a slight bow and muttering a m’lord as he gestured for Dustin to enter first. Who in turn gave Eddie the finger as he pushed past him. “Second this seems like more fun.” Although Dustin’s comment had him thinking about it he had met his sister before without realizing it.

Sure enough there was a girl who wasn’t Robin talking to Harrington behind the counter, she was laughing at something he had said. Her back was to them but it seemed that Dustin recognized her anyway, he sauntered up to the counter and hoped over despite the chiding from Steve not to do so durning store hours.

You raised an eyebrow at Dustin who rummaged through your return bin, looking yet again for the vhs copy of Never Ending Story, which for the past three weeks had been unreturned. “Motherfucker.” Dustin cursed, kicking the box.

“Hey dude watch your fucking language.” Steve scolded. “This is called Family video.”

Dustin stood back up pointing an accusatory finger at Steve. “When are you going to use your Family Store Employee privilege to find the guy who had rented Never Ending Story way past the store policy time. Me and Suzy need it for movie night! I’ve had to cancel twice!”

Steve raised in hands up in defense. “Hey man I’m not the only one who works here, get your sister to do it.”

“She won’t do it. I’ve already asked her.”

“So what makes you think pestering me into doing it will make me do it?” Steve scoffed, arms crossed.

“Cause you’re soft, and if I annoy you enough you’ll give me your password to the computer so I can do it myself.” Steve began to argue with Dustin, and you laughed watching their amusing interaction until Dustin paused and turned to you. “By the way that’s Eddie.” That was all he said before continuing his argument with Steve.

Your turned around to see who Dustin was referencing and when he caught your gaze Eddie’s heart nearly gave out. He couldn’t believe that Dustin’s hot sister had been his four year high school crush. You had been in the journalist club and had done a story in the hellfire club for the school newspaper your freshman year. You had sat in on one of his campaigns, his hands were shaking so much that he knocked over the screen and scattered his notes on the floor. Thank goodness that was before Henderson and Mike had joined, they never would have let him live it down.

But ever since then he had had the biggest crush on you, although he never had much interaction with you after that, it wasn’t like you ignored him you still said hi in the halls but he never had the guts to ask you out or to join his campaign. And it seemed after all these years he was still as nervous as he was when you interviewed him freshman year.

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” You beamed, recognizing Eddie at once. “If it isn’t Eddie Munson, the leader of Hellfire.”

He swallowed thickly and tried his best to play it cool, giving a little bow and a wink. “At your service.” He looked up to still see you smiling at him, he was pretty sure his face was red and sweaty. You continued to smile him and he gathered a little courage to get closer to the counter.

“What can I help you with today.” You asked. “Are you looking to check something out today.”

“I think he already is.” Dustin mumbled, earning a loud laugh from Steve and a glare from Eddie.

Eddie turned back to you. “No I’m just here driving this kid around, he wanted to go to Family Video and who am I to deny a fellow club member a ride-“

“Ha!” Dustin interrupted. “He made me come here to prove to him that I had a hot sister.” Dustin paused rethinking his phrasing. “His words not mine.”

“Why you little-“ Eddie cussed, hands reaching up ready to stranger Dustin before he though better of it, setting instead for a your dead signal.

You laughed, feeling your face get warm. “Is that so?”

Eddie looked down at his hands, fiddling with the rings that decorated them. “And what if it was?” He asked, looking up at you through his bangs.

“Then I’d ask you if you’d be taking me out this Friday or Saturday.”

“I’d say Saturday, we could go see The Lost Boys at the movies.” Eddie gained some of his confidence back, looking you in the eyes now but hiding the bottom half of his face with a piece of his hair, an action you found quite cute

“Then it’s a date.” You smiled, hugging yourself with your arms. Eddie smiled widely, his nose wrinkling up, and you could feel yourself getting giddy, finally landing a date with Eddie. One you had been dreaming about since high school.

Dustin watched your two from the sidelines with Steve, face scrunched up. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

[imaginesbymonika]

The date

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Plot: Y/N’s got her eye on Eddie for a while, but sometimes things just aren’t meant to be.

Warnings: This is really really sad and angsty, Vol.2 spoilers, even though I havent rewatched it so some aspects could be wrong, mentions of death, mentions of blood

song to listen to while reading:

You've met Eddie Munson three months ago, or well- to be honest you've noticed him years ago. I mean, how couldn't you? The boy with the long brown hair and the tattoos was jumping on and off tables and his 'confidence' was radiating from him like the heat from the sun... noticing him was inevitable.

Back then you were friends with people like Chrissy and Jason. People who weren't exactly scared of Eddie but instead called him a 'freak'.

"I don't think he's that weird, to be honest.", you said absently, mostly to yourself but still somehow loud enough for the rest of the table to hear you loud and clear. "What?", Jason asked, furrowing his eyebrows: "Then what is he?"

"Someone who is simply himself.", you replied, staring at your food.

Maybe that's what initially pushed you into his orbit. You always felt like you were wearing someone else's clothes. Someone else's personality. You longed for this feeling of uniqueness that Eddie seemed to naturally have.

You proceeded to watch him from afar. Until one day you bumped into Dustin and Mike in the hallway, somewhat in early winter.

"You can tutor us? Really?!", Dustin asked and you nodded your head at the two teenagers. "What about every Friday?", you asked but they just cringed at that. "That's when we have DnD.", Mike explained. "Well, I could wait for you guys to finish and afterwards we go to your place." Mike and Dustin exchanged a sharp look but ended up agreeing to your plan.

That's how you've ended up sliding into Eddie's life. Every Friday you sat in the corner of the room, patiently waiting for them to wrap up their game. And every week you sensed his eyes on you.

"Who's that?", Eddie inquired and furrowed his eyebrows. Dustin, who looked up simply mouthed the word 'oh' when he spots that Eddie's eyes were fixated on you. "She looks familiar." "That's Y/N.", Dustin clarified: "She usually hangs out with Jason and his friends." Eddie simply nodded, while some strange kind of disappointment formed in his stomach: "I see... she's one of them."

---

You've watched how Jason filled the trunk of his car with various guns and weapons. The anger inside of his eyes was striking and you couldn't blame him for it. Chrissy was the one for him- the love of his life. "We are going to find that freak and then we are going to execute him." Your gaze falls upon Lucas who is nervously shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

"Hey!", Jason's voice brought you back into the present and you slightly flinch: "Are you guys listening to me? I said are you coming with us?!" It wasn't a question, even if it was dressed up as one. It was more of a command. But you didn't move.

An anonymous tip. Someone insisted that they saw Eddie in some type of cabin down at the lake. Jason stared at you for a moment before he shook his head and scoffed before he got into the car. You watched how Lucas followed him, giving you a rare look as he walked past you. One that screamed at you...

'Go, go get there before he does!'

As soon as the car disappeared down the street you sprinted towards your bike and took the quick route through the woods.

---

"Jason!"

The blonde guy rapidly turned around at the sound of your voice. When he saw you standing near the forest, frantically waving your arms he grinned. "That way!", you yelled: "Eddie went that way! He's with that Dustin guy!"

Followed by his friends he quickly rushed past you and thankfully nodded at you before they vanished into the woods. Without missing a beat you ran towards the small cabin.

"Eddie!", you whispered into the cramped space: "Eddie, we don't have much time! We have to leave now before Jason recognizes that I lied to him! Come on, please!"

For a moment you were met with silence before a large figure emerged from one of the boats. "Why'd you lie to your friends?"

His voice was gloomy and soft- it was the first time he spoke directly to you and it sent shivers down your spine. "Because I don't think you killed Chrissy."

There was an honesty in your eyes that struck the long-haired guy. "And they're not really my friends.", you confessed and his jaw slightly lowered: "But we don't have time for that right now."

Eddie nodded before he turned around and yanked his things.

----

"You like him, don't you.", Dustin mumbled and when you turned your head to glance at him you shrugged. "I don't know what you're talking about.", you replied and stared at your nails, there was a sincerity in his stare you knew you couldn't withstand for long.

Truth was you didn't really understand it, you didn't really get why he was so alluring.

"I mean you essentially ended all of your friendships for him.", the young boy explained and leaned back in his seat:"For a guy, you barely know."

You don't answer. You don't know how.

----

"Thank you, by the way.", Eddie said, a sweet smile was appearing on his lips: "You know, for saving my ass back at the cabin. I didn't get the chance to properly thank you yet." His dark hair was sticking to his sweaty forehead, and the lightning in the upside-down gave him something mystical. He was so beautiful. So unbelievably pretty.

"Yeah, no problem."

He just laughs at that: "You say it so casually, as if you didn't just demolish your reputation- and for what? For me?" Uncertainty flashes up in his big doe eyes.

Suddenly Eddie quit walking and you turned to look at him. "Go on a date with me!" "What?" "You heard me!" You did. A giggle fled your lips.

"Obviously I don't know how this is going to end, no one does. But when I clear my name and get my diploma- go out with me, on one date." You just nodded.

---

"No, no, no.", you fell to your knees. Right next to Eddie's body. You felt how the cold stone ripped the skin off your knees wide open. "You cannot die on me now. Not now - not ever!", you squeaked so desperately. You had no right to tell him whether to live or die- but right now, gosh, it felt like you did. He promised you a date after all.

A weak chuckle left his lips: "I'm sorry, princess." His voice sounded wet as if the blood was plugging his lungs. It made you want to vomit. "It's going to be okay.", you mumbled but he just shook his head: “I mean look at me, I told everyone this was going to be my year and now- now I'm also going on a date with the prettiest girl in hawkings... Tell me about it-.” He choked and when he saw the confusion in your eyes he smiled: "The date, tell me about it."

It took everything in you to not throw up there and then. The entire thing was so wrong and unfair.

"I thought maybe, you could pick me up with your van. And then we could drive around for a while and just talk before we go and grab something to eat. Maybe we find a nice place. And we'd just sit on top of your car and watch the stars while we talk shit about Jason."

At that, he laughs and you can feel how it takes up all of his power. "Gosh, that sounds really nice.", he mumbled and his eyes ecame visible tired:"I'm- I'm really looking forward to it."

"Yeah, me too."

[abbatoirablaze]

Big Bad Wolf, Chapter 2

Word Count:  1.6k

Warnings:  gaslighting, emotional abuse, mentions of taboo relationships.

“I’ve got to go clean Mr. Hansen’s house, Jacob…but I promise I’ll be over as soon as I can,” you offered sweetly, keeping your arms wrapped around your boyfriend’s neck, “by the time I get done you’ll have everything unpacked and we can order pizza and cuddle up and watch Net-“

“You can’t even take one measly day away from that creep, can you?” he asked, “its not even your normal day.  But I bet he asked you to come over a day early just to ruin our time together.”

“Jacob…” you whimpered, “he did it because he knows tomorrow is my birthday and he wanted me to have the day off.”

“I’m serious,” he groaned, looking over to Mr. Hansen’s driveway, “you’re my girlfriend…you’re supposed to be seeing me off to college and we’re supposed to be making the most of it…you’re supposed to be making sure I’m not the third wheel between Ashley and Mr. Weiss, which is creepy enough as it is…but you’re going to go play French maid with Mr. Hansen?”

You frowned, “Mr. Hansen’s been nice to you and your dad, Jacob…he helped find out about your mom…and he’s been giving me the extra cash to clean his house practically since they moved in…”

“Which is weird, (Y/N).”

You went to argue but Jacob gave you a look, and your argument fizzled.  Instead, you looked at Ashley, who was flirtatiously loading boxes into Mr. Weiss’ truck.  They had taken the time earlier to load Jacob’s stuff in first and were now at Ashley’s house.  And you’d spent as much time as you possibly could helping, but if you waited any longer you knew you weren’t going to get out of his house until after dinner, and you didn’t want to risk running into Mrs. Hansen.

“I should go.”

“Yeah,” he huffed, his arms dropping from around your waist, “you should…I-I’ll call you to let you know when we’re done…I guess…”

“Yeah…”

“You okay, sweetheart?”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Hansen…what were you saying?”

“You’ve been moping around the house all afternoon,” he said with a soft look.  He leaned against the countertop that you had been mindlessly wiping down for the past five minutes and you frowned, realizing that you’d been thinking too much about the interactions with Jacob from earlier, “I told you that you didn’t have to come over this week…you could have helped Jacob move into his dorm with Mike and Ashley…and enjoyed your birthday tomorrow…I would have made it a week without you cleaning up the house.”

Your gaze retreated away from his cool one, for fear that he’d see that you really didn’t want to spend the additional time with Jacob.  But when his hand reached across the counter and his large, calloused hand stroked the back of yours, you nearly felt yourself breaking down. 

“Do you need to talk to someone, sweetheart?”

“Ever since the beginning of the summer…well, prom…it just feels like Jacob, and I aren’t…connecting.”

“Did something happen at prom?” he asked, his voice turning stern.  You gave him a sad look, suddenly unsure about opening up to him, and you noticed his jaw clench, “did something happen to you, (Y/N)?”

“No…NO!” you said quickly, realizing the anger in his tone was turning into worry across his features, “n-nothing happened like that, Mr. Hansen…I just-I think Jacob expected it to…I-I want to save myself…for…”

You stopped, the blush spreading across your cheeks as you realized you were admitting that you didn’t want to have sex with Jacob to one of your father’s best friends. 

“Hey…it’s okay,” he said in a soft voice, his warm hand stroking yours once again, “I want you to be able to feel like you can talk to me.  Just like you can talk to any one of us…Buck.  Mike.  Ari.  Even Andy…you’ve been there for each of them through some hard points in their lives.  And you’re a big help around my house…”

“Y-you don’t need to have me here, you know…I’m usually just tidying up,” you laughed, trying to change the subject, “you and Mrs. Hansen are extremely clean…I mean.  I usually just do the laundry and wipe everything down and vacuum and mop…there’s hardly ever any dishes, and-“

“I asked you originally because you seem to enjoy helping out the neighbors,” he shrugged, “you help Buck with his gardening…you walk Mike’s alligator…which I still can’t believe how tame that thing is-“

“Dad doesn’t like that I do that…but he’s a really sweet thing…”

“Mike needs to put that thing in a zoo before someone gets hurt…I’m surprised the HOA hasn’t fined him, or at the very least attempted to sue him to get it out of here,” he growled, glaring back towards the door, “sweethear-“

“I like the little guy,” you replied, cutting him off.  Truth be told, you had grown quite attached to Mr. Weiss’ weird choice of a pet, and it never once had lashed out in the five years you knew him to have it, “and the HOA tried…he out-lawyered them on that…he claims Beau is for his sobriety.”

Lloyd huffed as he looked at you, “you’re a bleeding heart, sweetheart…you really are.”

“I just want to be helpful…”

“You are,” he said softly in response.  You gave him a smile and he patted your hand, removing his own.  You felt slightly saddened by the loss and prayed that it didn’t show across your features.  He turned away, reaching into the cabinets before grabbing two glasses, “your dad called me a few minutes before I came in.  He’s got to run out for a last minute  s-“

“I know he’s getting my ‘you’re going to be a senior’ combined with my birthday gift, Mr. Hansen…”

He smiled, nodding along, “hey…I just told him that I’d keep you for dinner…you’re not allowed back in the house until seven…so that he has sufficient time to hide it…”

“Mr. Barnes and Mr. Levinson are probably helping him, aren’t they?”

“I was just in charge of the distraction,” he smiled, shooting you a wink.  Your heart fluttered as he turned towards the fridge, grabbing a two-liter of coke, “pizza is okay for dinner…right?”

“Are you ever going to learn how to cook, Mr. Hansen?” you teased.  He smiled again, sending the butterflies rushing around in your stomach. 

“Not if I can help it,” he smirked, “Suzanne always told me not to worry about learning to cook when I did my government contracts…told me she’d rather order takeout.”

You frowned, “I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be,” he sighed.  He pulled out his phone and began a mobile order, already knowing what you liked, “but hey…speaking about the distance between you and that Barber boy…it’s probably for the best.  If he can’t respect your boundaries, then that’s a red flag for down the road…”

“We’ve been together since I was fourteen Mr. Hansen,” you shrugged, “I mean…it is the next logical step in our relationship…an-and I don’t want him to lose interest in me now that he’s going to be on a college campus…I-I mean…going to all those college parties.  College girls…I-“

“If he thinks of another girl, he’s not worth your time, sweetheart,” he replied, looking up from his phone after he placed the order, “now…I may be an old man in your eyes, but a man needs to know when to respect his significant other’s boundaries, and appreciate her…”

“Mr. Hansen…you’re not old.”

He chuckled, “old enough…look, (Y/N), I’m not saying you should listen to everything I say…I mean…I’m probably the last person you should take relationship advice from…but it’s food for thought.”

“Why do you say that, Mr. Hansen?”

“What?”

“Why should you be the last person I take relationship advice from?”

“It’s nothing,” he shrugged, “nothing you should concern yourself with at the very least…”

“I-if you want to talk, Mr. Hans-“

“I don’t, sweetheart,” he said firmly, cutting you off.  You nodded, instantly taking a step back from his sharp tone and he frowned, “I’m sorry…I just…It’s a delicate situation, sweetheart.  Suzanne and I-well, let’s just say that things aren’t easy between us.”

“I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be, (Y/N), it’s not your fault,” he said with a soft look, “none of it is your fault.”

“You didn’t answer my call earlier…”

“I’m sorry,” you murmured, sighing to yourself, “I was still at Mr. Hansens…”

“(Y/N), I called at nine,” he grumbled angrily, “you were still there?  You left Ashley’s at nearly two.”

“Dad had me stay over at his place a little later than normal,” you said in your defense, “he was getting his traditional ‘you’ve made it another year’ combined with my birthday gift.”

Jacob huffed in defense. 

“Why are you so defensive about it, Jacob?” you asked, “me cleaning Mr. Hansen’s house isn’t anything new!”

“It’s creepy,” he growled, agitation leaking through the line, “all of it.  You and Lloyd Hansen…he’s a married man…and he’s old.  And you’re my girlfriend.  God, if I didn’t trust you, I’d guess that you were probably fucking him, just like Ashley’s screwing Mr. Weiss.”

“Jacob!”

“I know,” he mocked, “you want to save yourself for marriage…but you have to see it from my eyes.  He’s creepy…and I know that he’s come onto you before.”

“What?” you asked, “you’re crazy if you think Mr. Hansen has ever come onto me.”

“Whatever…I’m not arguing with you about this, (Y/N).  I called because I wanted to talk to you, and here you are, starting another fight…it’s like you don’t want us to work out!”

“What?  Of course I do, Jacob.  I love you!”

“Sometimes I wonder if you really do,” he muttered.  You could hear some noise in the background before his angry tone returned, “I got to go…there’s some freshman mixer.”

And before you could respond, the line went dead, and you were left feeling alone and rejected by your own boyfriend.

Chapter 3

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