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munsonson · 2 years ago

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𝐇𝐮𝐫𝐭 𝐅𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏『••✎••』

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝘌𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘴 𝘶𝘱 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯'𝘵 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳. 𝘜𝘯𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘶𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘮, 𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘻𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘣𝘪𝘨 𝘰𝘧 �� 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘴.

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬): 𝘌𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘔𝘶𝘯𝘴𝘰𝘯/𝘍𝘦𝘮!𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳, 𝘚𝘵𝘦𝘷𝘦 𝘏𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘵𝘰𝘯/𝘍𝘦𝘮!𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬): 𝘈𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵, 𝘗𝘳𝘰𝘧𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘺

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.4

This shouldn’t hurt as much as it does.

Things could’ve ended far worse than they actually did. Hell, most of the couples in their school tended to make breakups as dramatic as possible, normally painting one half of the relationship as some kind if irredeemable monster, if not to paint them as this sympathetic martyr, than just to save face that it actually hurt.

In her case, Eddie Munson told her they just weren’t a good match and he wanted to be friends again instead. That was as healthy as they could possibly get. And in the best case scenario, too, she’d still be able to have him be a part of her life. She didn’t think she could stand the thought of seeing him in the halls and not being able to acknowledge him.

She’d fallen hard and fast for Eddie, embarrassingly so.

Given the heavy duty of designated driver for the little hooligans she’d somehow decided to adopt with Steve Harrington, she’d gotten accustomed to waiting in the high school parking lot, her nose pressed into the creases of her current novel while she waited for them to finish their important campaigns, all procured from the brilliant mind of Eddie Munson.

She’d known him before then, too, but only in passing. He’d often make a big spectacle of himself in the cafeteria just to bug the other students, and he held the record as super senior. But she’d never even talked to him until she saw him walk the boys out after a seemingly successful campaign, his arms wrapped tightly around Dustin and Lucas’ shoulders as he praised them.

He’d acknowledged her when he got to her car.

“My fair maiden,” he’d said, “I apologize for the delay.”

She’d blubbered out some kind of half-hearted response, good enough to make him laugh, and that made her heart go a million miles a minute.

It didn’t take long before she’d gotten the courage to ask him out, even if it was just for coffee. He was surprised, but he agreed.

It had been nice, he even drove her home after. She probably should’ve seen the signs then because he didn’t suggest a second meet up, she had instead. And he’d agreed.

It was about a month before they made themselves official, in Hawkins High language, practically married. But it really just meant she got to hold his hand between classes and get quick kisses goodbye when it was time to separate, somehow always on her cheek than her lips.

She’d thought their dates were fun; it was a lot of pressure since he always left it up to her, never having any other idea than lounging about her home and just watching TV. But she was the one who thought of renting movies for horror marathons, figuring it was up his alley. She thought of bowling and drive-in theaters and picnicking near the quarry for its desolate atmosphere, another thing she figured was right up his alley.

But things came to an underwhelming end when Eddie approached her at her locker on some random Thursday to tell her things just weren’t working out and he wanted to stay as friends. Despite how much even that had hurt, she agreed. She didn’t want to make him do anything he regretted.

She could still be friends with him, happily so. That meant she could still sit with him at lunch, hear his outlandish tales, and be able to admire him from afar, even if she was no longer able to touch him and hold his hand.

“Be honest,” she’d heard Gareth say as she approached with her tray, “what really happened? You know, most guys woulda killed to be able to take her out, the fact she stuck around for months is surprising enough.”

Eddie shrugs, chewing absentmindedly on a pretzel he’d brought. She would pack him lunches when they were together since he always forgot and resorted to eating prepackaged things instead. Since they broke up, it seemed like old habits really did die hard.

“To tell you the truth,” he starts rather dramatically, “no substance. Pretty face, nice voice, real sweet, but God, boring as all hell.” He runs a hand down his face. The other boys seemed surprised. Dustin and Mike share a look, but say nothing, clearly waiting to hear more. Because there was no way it could be just that. There had to be more. They knew her better than anyone, had been through so much with her. What could be the real reason Eddie broke things off?

“And?” Dustin coaxes.

“And what?”

“Dude, seriously?” Mike scoffs. “She wasn’t interesting enough for you?”

Eddie shakes his head. ��Look, she’s a great gal. And I know you guys are super close, which is awesome, but we just weren’t the best match. And I felt like shit that she was putting in all of the effort when I wasn’t interested. Now she’s free to...I dunno...find someone boring, too.” He sniggers, elbowing Jeff beside him trying to get him to laugh, too, but he could see how upset Dustin and Mike were.

Luckily, for her sake, they didn’t notice her standing there, having overheard everything. Spinning right back around, she’d ditched her tray onto one of the trash bins before leaving the cafeteria completely before there was a chance anyone could see her tears.

God, it shouldn’t hurt as much as it does, she thinks again. He was more than welcome to have his own opinion, but why did it have to be something like that?

He was right, she wasn’t exactly Chrissy Cunningham or Heather Holloway, being this huge spectacle that made every new day more exciting than the last. All things considered, sometimes too much excitement frightened her. Having risked her life at least once a year for nearly four years now made her yearn for the more simple things. It was stupid of her to think Eddie would want the same. Eddie Munson, who liked to make scenes in the cafeteria and rock out in a bar with his band. He didn’t crave the simplicity of life like she did.

She didn’t go back into that cafeteria for the remaining of the lunch period. In fact, she’d decided to skip the rest of the day completely, knowing she shared three periods with Eddie and right now she really didn’t want to see him. She just wanted to get away, leave herself to her own thoughts to try to calm down.

Well, that really only lasted for ten minutes because she found herself pulling into the small parking lot into Family Video. She spots Steve’s car at the far end and knows he’s inside. It was childish of her to go running and crying to Steve Harrington, who she knew would take her side and say all the cruel things about Eddie that she couldn’t bring herself to because she really just needed someone on her side right now. Aside from Dustin and Mike, of course. She wouldn’t forget how they jumped to her defense.

The little bell rings at the top of the door as she walks in, startling Steve into consciousness, who seemed to be snoozing on the edge of the counter, drool pooled across his forearm. He wipes feverishly at his face and blinks unfocused in her direction, trying to situate himself quickly into his customer service face.

“Welcome to Fam-Jesus, you scared me,” he cuts himself off when he at last realizes it’s her. Confused, he turns to glance at the clock hung up on the wall. “Don’t tell me school’s out already? You beat Robin here.”

“No, I’m playing hooky,” she shakes her head, unsteadily moving towards the counter.

“What? You? I’m sorry, am I still dreaming?” Steve asks dramatically. “Since when do you, of all people, ever skip class? I’d sooner believe Nancy doing it than you.”

“Just...needed a break s’all,” she says with a shrug, looking around. “Keith not here?”

“Nah, he’s off today. Something about a new graphic novel he’s been dying to get. Says he’d have to wait overnight just to get one of the first editions. I don’t know, I don’t really listen to him unless he’s handing over my check,” Steve said. She leans up against the counter, trying to act casual. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t things be okay?”

“Well, for one, having to clarify that things are supposed to be okay when asked if everything’s okay is a pretty big indicator that things aren’t, in fact, okay.” Steve says with a laugh. “So everything’s not okay, then?”

“Everything’s okay,” she lies. “I just...can I ask you something?”

“Yeah?”

She isn’t sure how to come out and say it without sounding stupid. Better, she can’t figure out a way to come out and say it without sounding completely pathetic. But this was Steve, he was the king of asking her embarrassing things. He even called her once at three in the morning to ask how long you were supposed to leave cookies in the oven for. The follow up question was how to get the burnt smell out before his mom came home.

“Am I boring?”

Steve tilts his head. “Huh?”

“Am I boring, Steve? Am I boring?”

“No? Who gave you that idea?” Steve snorts, like he thinks it was a foolish thing to ask. “Whoever it is clearly hasn’t seen you handle a crowbar.” He was referencing when she’d nabbed a crowbar from the junkyard lot to fend off the demodogs with him, all to protect the little ones in the bus. She doesn’t want to remember that right now, not when it makes her feel cold inside.

“Nobody, I just...I dunno, I just think that maybe I’m not as exciting as, like...you o-or Rob or Nancy or, hell, even Jonathan.”

“Nonsense, you’re a badass! True story, you know I wouldn’t say that about just any...” Steve trails off, finally really looking at her. “Hey...hey, why are you really askin’ me that? Something happen? Someone say something to you?”

“No, Steve, I was just asking.”

“You’re lying,” he accuses. “Who was it, was it Byers? Nancy? Not Robin...”

“No! No, Steve, they didn’t say anything, please just drop it. I shouldn’t have asked.”

Steve’s face eventually relaxes, having realized he knew exactly who she was talking about.

“Munson.”

She shakes her head. “Stop it, Steve.”

“What did he say? I thought he just wanted to be friends, where’s all this coming from?” he asked. There were too many questions being thrown at her. She doesn’t want to cry, especially not in front of him, but as soon as she feels her cheek dampen that was it. Soon she was burying her face in her hands and trying to stop the little whimpers from coming out.

She doesn’t notice Steve leap easily over the counter. He pulls her close, shushing her quietly.

“Hey, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you upset,” he says. She sniffles, wrapping her arms around him. He’s petting her hair, kissing the crown of her head, trying his damndest to get her to calm down and talk to him. He was the perfect person to come to, she now realizes. Her subconscious knew Steve was the answer.

When she finally stopped crying, he at last let her go, giving her some space.

She rubs the tears from her eyes and wipes the tears on her jeans.

“Want me to kill him?” he asks jokingly. She laughs. He smiles again. “What happened? Can you tell me now?”

She told him what Eddie had said, the real reason he’d broken up with her and how she ran from the cafeteria and came here. Steve was reasonably upset, but he didn’t want to make it all about pounding Eddie into a pulp, he knew she needed her friend right now and he was prepared to be just that.

“Hey, screw him,” Steve scoffs, throwing an arm over her shoulders and pulling her back into his chest. “You’re far from boring, believe me, and honestly if you ask me you could do so much better than Eddie Munson. The guy picks his nose. I saw him once. It was gnarly.”

She’s laughing again, playfully hitting him.

“Thank you, Steve,” she says, “I’m sorry to dump all this on you, I just needed someone to talk to, you know?”

“Well, you came to the right guy. I can’t tell you it gets much better from public humiliation, but I can tell you that you find much better shit to focus on. Like this obviously stellar job. Robin. My new stereo I saved up for. And...well, you.” He playfully flicks her nose. She wrinkles her nose and swats his hand away. “Eddie doesn’t know what he’s talkin’ about. But I know he’s gonna kick himself in the ass when he realizes he lost a girl like you.”

“Yeah, you’re just saying that ‘cause you’re my friend.”

“Not true, I also wanna bug you for your famous cookies.” Steve winks.

“I can bring them to you tonight, then.” she said, patting his arm. “I should get going. Um...you clearly are very busy and I don’t wanna keep you from doing your job.”

“I know, such a bad influence. The gateway rebellion was skipping class. Now it’s job defiance,” Steve chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. “Hey, um...if you want, when you come by tonight, maybe you could stick around? Was gonna rifle through the back, borrow some flicks to waste my evening away. Free to join me if you want? Robin flaked out on me, says she’s doing some band practice with Vicky. Didn’t ask for details.”

She thinks about it and smiles. “Sounds like fun. Girls’ night.”

“Invitation rescinded!” Steve shouts, turning away.

“No, I’m kidding, I’m kidding, stop!” she protests, giggling. “I’ll bring cookies and pizza, Steve. I’ll be there.”

“Alright, then,” Steve said. “Um...hey, don’t worry about Eddie, alright? He’s just being a dick. And honestly, apart from his relationship with the rugrats, he’s still gonna be a dick. He missed out on a girl like you. Clearly he’s a martian.”

“Doesn’t mean much when I’m from Hawkins. But thank you, Steve. I’ll see you tonight,” she says, squeezing his hand and finally leaving the store back to her car. She left feeling much lighter than she had going in. He was right. Forget Eddie. If he thought she was so boring he clearly didn’t need her around him. She had other friends, friends like Steve.

Smiling to herself, she climbs into the driver’s seat and turns the key into the ignition, hearing the engine roar to life.

Things would be just fine.

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #dustin henderson #mike wheeler #nancy wheeler #robin buckley #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson angst #steve harrington angst #jane hopper #eleven #max mayfield #jonathan byers #series

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blairxbear · 4 months ago

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Stranger Things Preferences

Their Pet Name for you.

(Featuring: Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Billy Hargrove, Jonathan Byers, Dmitri Antonov, Jim Hopper, Alexei, Murray Bauman, Robin Buckley, Argyle, Henry/001)

Warnings: Mentions of sex. This blog is 18+ Minors do not interact.

A/N: My first preference! There will be quite a few of these across quite a few fandoms so if you'd like to be tagged in future preferences or future stranger things posts please let me know in the comments! :) Also any Russian is taken straight from google translate so pre-apologies if I have butchered it! Enjoy!

Steve Harrington

Steve keeps his pet names quite generic, baby, babe, sweetheart. It's not so much the names he uses but how he says them. Most of the time he's most comfortable using the shortened version of your name or nickname he has for you, but the amount of affection he would put into it would make you melt. If he's being especially flirtatious you'd even occasionally get doll. He doesn't miss the effect it has on you when he calls you that.

Eddie Munson

Eddie is as theatrical with his pet names as he is with anything else in life. He loves to call you princess, especially during Hellfire meetings when he can incorporate you into his campaign. I think Eddie would switch between a few pet names to try to keep it interesting, baby, sunshine, sweetheart. It doesn't matter what he calls you it never fails to give you butterflies. Let's not pretend that if you two are hanging out in his trailer while you joke around and play air guitar together that he doesn't call you his little Rockstar.

Billy Hargrove

Billy's pet names for you depend on two things; his mood, and who you are around. In public you're only getting the less heartfelt pet names, he refers to you as his girl a lot in front of other people. Not only does he love the small smile it brings to your face but it also feeds into his possessive side, knowing that everyone knows you are his. When you two are alone and have been together for a while, Billy finally shoes a softer side of himself. He will compliment you a lot and attach all sort of pet names to those compliments, baby, sugar, sweet thing, still loving to resort to calling you his girl. You're mad at him and he's trying to make it up to you? Get ready for him to bargain his way back into your arms, wrapping his arms around you as he whispers in your ear, "Come on sweetheart, you know you can't stay mad at me."

Jonathan Byers

This soft, shy, adorable baby will probably be hesitant to use pet names for a long time. I honestly doubt you would hear them until you two begin to get intimate and he's too lost in the moment to think about what he's saying. He's pussy drunk and rambling into your neck, pet names would all be soft and sweet while he's chasing his high, beautiful and sweetheart would be at the top of his list. Getting high in his room? This sweet man would be telling you how you're his sunshine, rambling on in his delirium about how you light up his life.

Dmitri Antonov

While this man's English is very good, he still prefers to use pet names in Russian. There's something about the way he looks at you with his intense gaze as he slips back into his native tongue that just turns you into an absolute puddle. His favourites include котенок (kitten) and моя любовь (my love). The thought of this man holding you while you curl up in bed for the night, arms wrapped around you while he whispers endearing words in Russian into your ear is enough to bring butterflies to your stomach.

Jim Hopper

Let's not pretend like for a goooooooood while this man affectionately refers to you as kid even if you are barely a few years younger than him. He's a tough shell of a man that will refuse to open up or show his feelings for a long time, but when he does you realise its worth the wait. He doesn't throw around pet names and words of endearment a lot as he prefers to save them for moments when he feels it's right. When it's just the two of you and you're sharing a soft moment, sometimes referring to you as darling in his softer moments. Occasionally you might even get a cheeky baby.

Alexei

Another Russian baby, this adorable man will always call you pet names in Russian, it doesn't matter how much his English has improved. It just means more to him coming from his native tongue. His regular go to include голубь (Dove) and милый (Darling). Although, Murray taught him how Americans us Pumpkin as a term of endearment as a way to screw with you both and now it's one of Alexei's favourite things to call you. Jokes on Murray because seeing Alexei's face light up as he reaches for you and calls you pumpkin is enough to fall even more in love with him.

Murray Bauman

I feel like Murray cannot find it in himself to call you soft names to start off with. He's still confused by the fact that you even want to be with him, he's not going to possibly embarrass himself further using some pet names that might cross some invisible line he's set up for himself. He refers to as lady a lot, or another unique name that fits your looks of personality. Once this man is comfortable and more secure in your relationship I think the names would still stay light and not too sensitive. You would definitely get honey a lot, I don't think Murray would be able to resist yelling through the house when he gets home, "Honey, I'm home!"

Robin Buckley

Robin would also keep her pet names generic just like her bestie Steve, but less out of originality and more just to play it safe. Robin would have some insecurities going into a relationship after all the careful steps she took just to get to where you two are now. She is hesitant at first to say the wrong thing so she sticks to a lot of sweetheart and babe. One day you were spending time together and she slipped up and called you buttercup. She panicked for a second worrying what you would think of the nickname, but seeing your smile wiped all of those worries away and it became one of her favourite pet names so far.

Argyle

Okay so we all know this cutie is not going to call you any conventional pet names unless he's sober which is not very often. You're going to get a lot of my dude and bro but he does really mean it affectionately with you. Other than that you're definitely going to get a lot of made up names that mean absolutely nothing but to him they mean a lot; wicked lady, cream puff, anything. He would totally refer to you as "my queen" when he lets you into the van which he refers to as your chariot. Your favourite pet name would be the time he said, "My pretty girl is gonna get all the pizza she wants" he couldn't understand your reaction as you couldn't think of what to say next after hearing Argyle call you his pretty girl.

Henry/001

I whole heartedly believe this man would refer to you as pet. He does mean it endearingly but he also can't resist how you scrunch your nose up at hearing the teasing term. He also uses a lot of "My little..." whether it be bird, bunny, dove. He constantly feels the need to protect you and he shows that in his terms of endearment by referring to you as small and innocent. I know this man would call you his good girl, and you will have to pry that thought out of my cold dead hands.

A/N: Hope you guys like this! Reminder that if you want to be tagged in future Stranger things posts or other preferences to let me know in the comments and ill create a tags list :)

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pileofboneswrites · 4 months ago

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LOVER BOY_headcanons.strangerthings

dating eddie munson headcanons

SUMMARY — relationship eddie headcanons

A/N — i just wanna say a quick thank you to everyone who liked my other eddie headcanons post, i wasn't expecting all the love, but i appreciate it immensely :))

MASTERLIST | BACK

when he likes someone, he thinks he's being really subtle, but he's not

him, a stuttering, nervous wreck; "uh hey, cool shirt"

you, deadpan; "it's your shirt, that you gave me to wear, because you thought i'd look cute in it"

always tries to impress you in silly ways

"wanna see how fast i can run?"

"bet i can jump and hit that sign without running"

"i caught you a squirrel because you said they were cute that one time"

is touch starved

as such, he will always be touching you in some capacity; hand on your knee while in class, hand on your thigh or fingers interlaced with yours while driving, he will sit on you if there's nowhere for him.

when you hug him, kiss him, or cuddle with him he will hold on and refuse to let you go until you're late, like really late, you'd have to leave ten minutes ago late.

is big on pet names when you're alone, but mostly calls you by your last name or a shortened version of your name when in public

he's big on baby, sweetheart, dollface.

angel and prince/princess are reserved for when he's fucked up royally, or you're sad or sleepy.

will touch everything you own

perfume/cologne sitting on your dresser? sprayed himself in the face with it the first time he picked it up, but really liked how it smelled so he puts a spitz on every time you leave him alone in your room. just spent the day at the pool and he needs to shower at yours? he will use your shampoo, conditioner, body wash, lotion and even your deodorant "do you want me to stink? :(". every time he comes in he finds something new to play with. old stuffie under your bed? he's carrying it around/hugging it/holding it until he leaves. trinkets on the top of your bed frame? he'll make them talk to each other when he's bored.

has a hard time sleeping when you're not close

he and sleep have rarely ever been on the same page, so he finds things to do to occupy his time, so when he's in a relationship that usually means he's dragging you along with him; be it going for a swim at 2am at lovers lake, a quick trip to the gas for snacks, or just straight up falling ungracefully through your window and crawling into bed with you to try and grab a couple hours of sleep (while simultaneously scaring the shit out of you because you were already sleeping).

because of the above, he will constantly nap around you while you're hanging out

you're his safe space, he spends most of his time in your presence passed out; laying on his back on the floor with his legs tossed over the side of your bed with his feet tucked under your thigh while you study, arms crossed over his chest while you're head's in his lap as you read out loud to him – he swears he's awake but every so often he lets out a soft snore, sitting on the couch watching a romcom with his head on your shoulder as he struggles to keep his eyes open, literally any time you touch his head/hair he's out like a light.

100% is glued to your side and tells everyone you're his best friend as well as his gf/bf

he goes on errands with you and spends 99% of his free time with you, he drags you along to band practice — which you usually use as an opportunity to feed baked goods to his bandmates (who absolutely adore you for it), when he's working you usually sit around with him passing him tools as he needs them — "uh need 9/16 wrench–" and it's already in your hand like you read his mind.

when you're not around, brags about you to anyone who will listen to him, and carries a picture (that he switches out for newer ones he takes) of you in his wallet that he shows off constantly — "look how cute they are" "my girlfriend/boyfriend is hotter".

writes songs about you

sometimes he'll write them just for himself, or for your ears only recording them on a tape just for you to have a reminder of how much he loves you.

you better believe that wayne loves you for being a good influence on him

you make him eat all breakfast, lunch & dinner — before you he would forget to eat and usually pumped himself full of caffeine only, you get him a reuseable water bottle (which you bribe him to carry it around and actually drink from it) — to his credit he now drinks at least one full bottle, you make him wear sunscreen & a hat on sunny days, waterproof footwear and jacket on rainy/snowy days (he's shocked when he doesn't get sick as often).

at first wayne was wary of you, unsure of whether your intentions were genuine or if you were going to pull one over on eddie — which disappeared the first time he came home from work and saw you too cuddled up on the couch watching one of eddie's favourite movies (it was the way you were staring at him as he shared his favourite parts or something he read about it, or a fact about the filming/production — wayne tells this story at your wedding all teary eyed about his eddie being all grown up and so very obviously loved).

takes photos of you all the time

cutesy date night photos, spicy half-naked photos (or just straight up naked naked), you sleeping, you making an ugly face, you mid-sneeze, you smiling, he has it all caught on film and he loves each and every photo so much.

total softie for you and you alone

you've gotten him to do things he's straight up refused to do for his friends, and even wayne

does literally anything you ask, and even sometimes you don't have to ask, he just does it because he knows it'll make you happy and that's all he strives for, you being happy.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #stranger things #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson moodboard #eddie munson smut #dustin henderson #dustin henderson x reader #robin buckley x reader #jonathan byers x reader #steve harrington x reader #billy hargove x reader #pileofboneswrites #eddie stranger things #eddie munson stranger things

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blakeswritingimagines · 3 months ago

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Sitting On Their Lap

Eddie: "Woah-" He'd chuckle. Immediately, his hands instinctively went to your waist, sitting you down on his thighs completely. "You're being cute again.." He'd tease, smiling warmly in your direction as his hands slipped down towards your thighs, gently rubbing up and down your sides lovingly

Gareth: He’d smile and immediately put his arm around you, pulling you a bit closer as his other hand slides down your hip. He’d love your hair in his face and your warmth against him.

Steve: He'd definitely be surprised at first. He'd chuckle softly before wrapping his arms around your hips and pulling you a little closer against him. Then he'd look at you with a cheeky smile. "Now, what do we have here?"

Robin:��she'd have a surprised/flushed look on her face until she realized it was you. After that, she would wrap her arms around you and pull you closer. She'd ask, "And what is this for?"

Nancy: She’d gasp and be surprised, but then, she’d smile. She'd wrap her arms around your waist and pull you against her chest, and bury her face into your hair.

Jonathan: “Hey woah, hi to you too, love.” He’d smile up at you, his hands landing on your hips before they’d wrap gently around your torso, securing your position on his lap in place. He’d let out a content sigh from your proximity, taking comfort in your weight on top and pressing closer against you. “What’d I do to earn the honor of being used as your personal chair?”

Argyle: He immediately stopped what he was doing and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you close so your back was pressed tightly against his chest. He could feel the heat radiating from you. “Hey.” He said with a grin.

Billy: He was surprised a bit but smiled at you. He wrapped his muscular arms around your body and pulled you close into a hug, his muscular chest pressed against your back. "Hey, you." He said and chuckled softly in your ear. He let one hand wander down your side until it rested on your thigh.

Henry: He would be surprised first and look at you with a suprised expression, but after that it would probably just make him smile as he would wrap his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him. He might also bury his face into your hair and place a small kiss on your neck.

#eddie munson x reader #gareth emerson x reader #steve harrington x reader #robin buckley x reader #nancy wheeler x reader #jonathan byers x reader #argyle x reader #billy hargrove x reader #henry creel x reader #stranger things imagine #stranger things #stranger things headcanons #stranger things hc

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bookshelf-dust · 2 years ago

Text

healing

billy hargrove x gn!reader

word count: 5,445

warnings: swearing, smoking, mentions of past trauma (starcourt), slight sexual innuendos??

a/n: hi! remember when i made you do a poll for my 1k celebration? and one bed with billy won? well this is that fic! i'm sorry it took so long to get here, but school was kicking the ever loving shit out of me. anyways, i really hope you like it. it's a little different than other fics i've written, but i think that's a good thing. just for context, this is post the end of season three, with billy and hopper being okay and jopper being in full swing. i think that's all i wanted to say. thanks again for 1k followers. that's still so wild to me. i love you. and billy loves you too <333

————

November 1985

“No.”

“What do you mean no? You just fought an interdimensional being, don’t you want a vacation?”

Lucas wipes both hands down his face, flopping down on the arm of the couch beside where Max sits with El between her knees, tying off one of the two braids she’s trying to make.

“Max, can you help me? Please?” Lucas has been arguing about this for fifteen minutes.

She rolls her eyes, but looks up from her work nonetheless. “Billy.”

The man in question crosses his arms, locking eyes with the redhead. “Maxine.”

Max finishes Eleven’s braid and she hops up to join Will where he’s working on a puzzle. Joyce brought it home from work a few days ago, and it’s been spread out on a card table in the corner of the living room since then. Will couldn’t watch The Golden Girls with Joyce from the kitchen table.

“Just come with us, Billy. We all know you hate it here. It’ll give you a chance to get away for a little while.”

Except that’s not totally the truth. He doesn’t hate it here. Not with you around.

“There’s a pool.” Will looks up, a little shyly, from the puzzle, fingers flipping around a single piece. “At the place Robin found.”

Billy nods, and it’s enough to make Will smile at the acknowledgment.

It’d been Steve’s idea, after everything that happened in July. He thought everyone going on a trip together might be a good idea. Go a little ways out from home, calm down.

You and Billy started going to school, though Billy is still working. He found a job at a record store across the street from Melvald’s that opened after the mall went to shit. It definitely wasn’t his first choice, but it works. And he’s slowly fixing up the Camaro.

Steve had offered to pay for the repairs in full, considering he did most of the damage when he rammed the side of it, but Billy couldn’t handle that. So far Max has only convinced him to let Steve cover the really expensive parts. It hurts Billy more than he’d care to admit—having Steve Harrington give him money.

But he can’t lie, going somewhere away from Hawkins, even just for a couple days, sounds really nice. It’s the group part that’s bothering him. He’s still not used to everyone wanting him to tag along, but apparently major trauma brings people together.

There’s the slamming of car doors, and footsteps running up the driveway before the door swings open, Robin bursting in with a stack of movies in her arms. She’s followed by Dustin and then Steve, bags and keys being tossed every which way.

Billy doesn’t see you for a moment and starts to worry maybe you aren’t coming. He’s already supplying excuses for having to go home, but Steve left the door ajar, and after a moment, there you are.

You look sleepy, footsteps the quietest of everyone else as you carefully push the Byers’ door shut behind you. He watches as you accept a hug from Eleven, overhears her ask, “how did your test go?”

He’s happy to hear you tell her it went well. It’s only after you’ve looked at her and Will’s puzzle and snapped a few more corner pieces in that you make a beeline for the open spot on the couch beside Billy.

When you’ve settled, your knee bumps against his. “Hey.”

He looks at you, a little grin playing at the corners of his mouth. His arms are still crossed, thumb playing with the pendant resting on his chest. A chest surprisingly covered by a sweater, though the sleeves are pushed up.

“Hey. Glad your test is over?”

That sound of his voice makes you smile, and he’s never been so grateful for something, even if it’s just an expression. “Yeah.”

You glance down at the new tattoo on his arm, a dark colored snake wrapping around the skin covering his elbow. You run your thumb across the tail that flicks across his forearm, and Billy relaxes into your touch.

“You have work today?”

Billy shakes his head. You’re glad he had the day off. And you’d tell him so if it weren’t for the sudden bombardment.

Lucas is suddenly standing in front of you, having returned from the kitchen where you think he and Dustin may have been cleaning out Joyce’s fridge.

“Holy shit, thank god you’re here. I need you to convince Billy to go on vacation.”

You glance at Max, assuming she’s already tried. She looks rather annoyed. “Lucas, would you sit down?”

The boy looks at Max, and she glares at him. Clearly he knows better and sits down next to her.

“Billy doesn’t have to do anything he doesn’t want to do,” you finally say.

The man in question turns to face you. You have to lean your head back some because of how close he is.

“Are you going?” he asks, voice quiet and thick with something you don’t know that you’re supposed to notice.

“Y-yeah. I was gonna. Robin only went on about it to me for an hour over the phone last night. I just think it might be nice to get away for a little while.” Billy doesn’t break eye contact with you, and while it makes you a little nervous, it tells you he’s listening.

“And I can watch Max for you if you really don’t want to go. Just make sure she doesn’t kill Lucas or anything.” Max snorts at your response, though Lucas looks at her in panic, already calculating how best to prevent that sort of situation.

Your gaze softens and you fight the urge to reach out and run your thumb across Billy’s cheek.

Please come with us. I want you to go. I want you there, you think. But it’s not what you say. You don’t know how badly he needs to hear it.

“You really don’t have to go, Billy. Not if you don’t want to.”

“But there is enough space, man.” Steve stands behind the couch, handing El a scrunchie he retrieved from her bag. His voice is calm, informative. “If you decide to go. There’s plenty of room, and we’d be happy if you did.”

Billy could make some smartass remark. But he won’t. He knows that Steve is being honest, and that he’s not trying to be a dick. It seems that witnessing the guy who beat the shit out of you almost die not even a year after he moved to town really brings you together.

Billy gives an acknowledging nod. “I’d be very happy if you did,” Eleven says. She loves having Jonathan as an older brother, really she does, but Billy lets her play with his hair. And in her books, that really ups the scale.

He smiles at her, and El considers that a win.

You notice him shift next to you, and then he’s leaning forward to whisper in your ear. “Come with me?” He cocks his head in the direction of the door.

He gets up, assuming you’ll follow him. You always do.

When you’ve shut the door, you move to the porch swing. It’s your favorite spot out here, and Joyce says it makes her happy to see someone use it. She used to sit there with Will in the mornings after Jonathan left for school and read to him. She did the same with Jonathan, but he was a much more fidgety kid, wanting to find something else to do.

Billy lights a cigarette, and you watch where he fidgets with the ring on his middle finger.

He’s standing a little ways away from you so as to not breathe the smoke directly in your vicinity, but you wish so badly that he was closer. You like having him close. The weight of his body next to you, the warmth, how solid his arm feels when it’s pressed to yours or when he slides down on the couch some and it's more so pressed to your side.

“Which part of it are you worried about?” you ask him.

He shrugs. “You really think they want me there? You think Max wants me around?” “Billy, I know she does. And I know that voice in your head is telling you that it’s a pity invite, but it’s not. And, besides…” you trail off, but he’s not having that. He needs you to reassure him.

“Besides what?”

You look up at him. “I want you to go. And yeah, I’ll be sad if you don’t go, but that shouldn’t sway your decision either.” You push your feet against the concrete porch a little harder, and the swing responds to the movement. You move quicker, now feeling very pleased with yourself.

Billy almost laughs at the child-like look on your face, but you look so at home on the swing that he holds it in. A grin escapes nonetheless.

“Say that again.” He stubs out his cigarette in the ashtray either Hopper or Joyce have left outside. He’s watching you again.

“What?” He’s not gonna let you go all shy on him now. He needed to hear that. He needs to hear it.

“You know what.”

“I want you to go.”

“Then it’s settled. Need to get out of this shithole anyways.”

————

The place Steve found is about two hours from Hawkins, with three bedrooms, a shockingly luxurious pull-out couch, and bigger common areas than you’ve ever laid eyes on. Excluding the ones in Steve’s house. In short, the rental is like Hopper’s cabin, if Hopper’s cabin were updated and substantially larger. It feels like the kind of place rich people have to take weekend trips. You’d rather not find out how much Steve is paying for the lot of you to stay there.

Robin takes you on a grand tour while everyone else explores the backyard. Dustin is already determined to climb a tree. One of the rooms has two sets of bunk beds, dedicated to the four boys. “To ensure no cootie-spreading,” Robin proclaims.

She and Steve will share the couch, with Max and Eleven in the smaller bedroom.

Robin stops at the end of the hallway. “Which leaves…”

You and Billy.

You and Billy Hargrove.

Sharing a room.

Sharing a bed.

Speaking of, the man in question brushes past you, setting his bag on the floor at the foot of the bed. Robin takes that as her queue to leave and gives you a thumbs up on the way out. You hope she can feel your death stare on the back of her head, and she knows it, being quick to run down the hall.

“So we’re roomies, huh?” Billy says, gathering his hair at the base of his neck. You hadn’t even realized he had a tie on him, and it takes him finishing off a lazy bun to realize it’s a blue scrunchie. You have to bite your lip to keep from saying anything.

“I can sleep with Max and El, if you want. Or–”

That crease between Billy’s brows forms. “Why would you do that?”

You’ve gone all warm. You’d have to sleep in bed with him. And you sit next to him all the time, but this is different. Isn’t it?

Maybe it’s not so weird. You’re just friends. It’s like a sleepover, right?

“I don’t know, you might not want to sleep together or something.”

He cocks a brow, but you catch the double meaning of your words just in time. “You know what I mean, Billy.”

He sits on the end of the bed, and reaches out for you. You move towards him slowly, but the moment you’re within his grasp, Billy spreads his legs and grabs your waist, slotting your body between them.

“You can go if you really want to. If you think I’ve got cooties or somethin’ and you don’t wanna share a bed with me.”

You snort, and Billy drinks in the sound, knowing he’s the one that made you laugh.

“I don’t think you’ve got cooties.”

You realize in that moment that his hands haven’t left their spot on your waist, never straying anywhere else. The weight of them on you is enough to keep you focused on him, and he seems to acknowledge that.

“Then what is it?” he asks, in that low drawl you fear could get out any answer he wanted from you.

You hesitate, but say it anyway. “You don’t think it’ll be weird? Sleeping in the same bed?”

Billy fights the urge to rest his forehead against your stomach. He wants to tell you he’s wished you were in his bed on more than one occasion. Sometimes he just wishes you were there so it wouldn’t feel so cold, so he’d have someone to pull him out of his thoughts before they eat him alive altogether.

“No, I don’t think it’ll be weird.”

You nod your head, and try to move back from him.

Billy whines. “Uh uh. Nope.”

You go to put your hands on your hips, and they graze Billy’s on the way. He grabs hold of them. “You don’t want to have a sleepover with me?”

Billy’s looking up at you with those watery blue eyes, and you know this is a battle you’ll never win.

“Really?”

He lets out a breath of a laugh, and your eyes fall to his neck when he tosses his head back.

“Yeah, baby.”

Baby.

It feels like every cell in your body has been sent into overdrive, like you can’t compute a single coherent thought. All because Billy called you “baby”.

And if he’s being honest with himself, he feels the same way. He hadn’t meant to say it. It’s just that he calls you “baby” in his head all the time, and it just…happened.

“I’d love to have a sleepover with you, Hargrove.”

“Mhm. Thought so.”

This time he lets the laugh out, and it’s a beautiful sound. The kind of sound you’d commit unspeakable acts to hear again. And this time, he does let his forehead drop to rest on your stomach. It surprises you, but you’re not mad about it.

“Oh, fuck off,” you say, and you can feel his chuckle against your skin.

When he quits, you find yourself just standing there, find your hands moving around his back. He’s always so warm. You rub your hands up and down his back, the denim of his jacket rough on your fingertips.

You feel him shift, feel his change in position, the hard press of his chin against you. Billy is looking up at you, and you know he’s hoping you’ll return his gaze. His eyes bore into yours, and you hate to think of what you must look like from this angle. Clearly he doesn’t mind.

You push a curl behind his ear, a shockingly perfect ringlet that’s too short to be contained like the rest of them.

Billy would be taken aback by the gesture if it weren’t for the fact that you always go this easy on him. Like you know he’s healing, in more ways than one.

“We can’t stay here forever, you know. I wanna go look around.”

“Yeah,” he laughs. “I’m sure it’s riveting.” He lets you go anyway, following you down the hall to the rest of the cabin.

————

Your back rests on the base of an oversized chair, one that’s surprisingly comfy, your body in between Robin’s legs. She’s sitting next to Steve, watching you moderate El, Lucas, and Will play Twister. Dustin’s already out.

“Right hand blue.”

“You’re kidding right?”

“Sinclair, have you never played this game before?”

Lucas scoffs, trying to reach the blue on the other side of the mat without toppling into Will. Max went with Billy to the store, but they should be back soon. You have a sick feeling they’re taking advantage of having been given Steve’s debit card.

“Yes, I’ve played the game before. If you’re so good, why don’t you get down here and show us how it’s done, Harrington?”

“Yeah, Harrington, why don’t you show us how flexible you are?” Billy’s voice makes you look up from where you’ve been mindlessly twisting the spinner on the board around with the tip of your finger.

He stands just inside the living room, holding the door open with his leg. He kicks it shut once Max has made it in. She heaves the paper bags she’d been holding up and onto the counter. Steve rises to help unpack them. You follow on instinct, handing the spinner to Robin instead, and Dustin is quick to take Steve’s spot before Mike can.

Billy won’t let you take anything from him, but he will let you help figure out what the hell to do with all of it. “Do I even want to know how much you both spent?” you ask.

He gives you that fucking smile, and you know you don’t. “Max said she wanted to have a spa night–whatever that means–with El, so we sort of split up. I’m sure Steve’ll live.”

“For your information, Lucas,” Steve continues, clearly not ready to let the quips towards his limberness go, “I was the captain of the swim team.”

“What’s that got to do with being flexible, dingus?” Robin directs the two remaining players, the young boy in question having just busted his ass.

“Swimming is an art form, Rob. You gotta learn to respect it.”

You choke on a laugh, and Billy is quick to rub your back while he chuckles into your shoulder.

“Something funny over there?” Steve questions.

You straighten, trying to wipe the smile from your face though it’s to no avail. “Nope, Steven. I’m sure you’re just incredibly stretchy. Like Mr. Fantastic.”

His brow furrows. “Mr. Fantastic?”

Dustin snorts, elbow deep in a bag of chips, and you quickly realize that you probably shouldn’t have given him an opening, but you don’t exactly regret it either.

The lot of you spend the rest of the night in this fashion, playing games, eating way too much food, taking turns smacking the top of the television so your movie will keep playing.

It feels like home. It feels safe. You wish it always felt this way.

————

You’d just finished brushing your teeth when you hear the bedroom door click shut, hear footsteps you can tell are in search of you.

You peek your head out of the bathroom and Billy grins at the sight of you in pajamas, a smear of moisturizer on your forehead you’ve yet to rub in.

He squeezes in the small room, about the same size as his at home, to join you. There’s something about this moment, the domesticity of it, that makes your heart swell. It feels like something you could get used to, getting ready for bed with him. Neither of you have to say anything, you just do your own thing, but having him be there, having his presence–it’s more than enough for you.

When you climb into bed, you try and read for a while, the sounds of Billy washing his face comforting you. You find it easy to read even when he does get in with you, the mattress sinking underneath his weight, the sheets rustling as he moves around experimentally, trying to get comfortable in a bed that isn’t his own.

You feel odd though, reading when he’s right there, so it isn’t long before you close the book and slide further into the covers with him. Billy’s quick to turn on his side, wanting to see you like this.

He watches you yank the blankets up to your chin, looking at him over a blur of fluffy white comforter. “It’s fuckin’ freezin’ in here,” you tell him.

“C’mere then.”

You burrow further into your pillow, fearing you know exactly what he’s going to suggest. “Huh?”

“You’re cold. You always whine about me being warm or somethin’ and I’m telling you to come here.”

“Billy.”

“Stop.” He lifts the covers up some, untucking you from them, and he wraps his arm around your back, tugging you into his side.

Suddenly you’re pressed against him, having slid across the sheets easier than you’d have imagined.

He’s let go of you, his arm hovering over your back. “You want me to hold you or no?”

“Yeah.”

Billy lets his arm drop against your side, his fingers splaying out over your back. He rubs his hand up and down your spine, hoping it’ll warm you up. “This okay?”

“Yes.”

He nods. You’re looking at him like he’s something special.

Billy realizes, in that moment, that that’s how you’ve always looked at him. Even before.

He also realizes that your hands are tucked under your chin and your legs are curled up and into you like you’re afraid of making any contact with him.

“You can loosen up, you know. It’s just me.”

You let out a breath of a laugh, and he can feel it against the skin of his neck.

“It’s okay, I promise. You can touch me.” Billy has this feeling that you’re afraid of hurting him. He’s sure you’ve noticed that he’s wearing a shirt to bed, something he never did before. And he thinks that you’re worried he’ll break.

“You’re sure?”

“Wouldn’t have said so otherwise.”

He watches you unfold your hands and stretch your arm over him, hooking it around his hip. You want to rub up and down his side, but you’re nervous.

It’s just me.

“Do they hurt at all?”

Your thumb skates up a little further, and you don’t have to tell him what you mean.

“Not all the time,” he says, voice low and thick with drowsiness. “At first, yeah, like hell. Now it’s just sometimes. They can feel a little tight, or just bug me. Depends, I guess.”

You nod, feeling brave enough now to slide your hand up a little further. Your touch is light, barely there. You close your eyes, trying not to think about when it happened. How he’d screamed.

He can tell when you’ve calmed down some, because your arm relaxes and you hug him a little more firmly. You scoot in a little closer, close enough that your noses would touch if you tried to make them.

“Goodnight, Billy.”

He makes the move, dragging the tip of his nose across your forehead. He kisses the top of your head, and you grin so wide you feel like a kid in a candy shop.

“Goodnight, baby.”

————

When you wake up, you almost don’t want to disturb him, but you know you should get out of bed.

Billy is sprawled out on his stomach, having separated from you at some point during the night. His tank top is rucked up from the tossing and turning of sleep, and you look away when you catch a glimpse of pink skin. It doesn’t feel like your place to look.

You wander out of the room, carefully shutting the door behind you. You make it down the hall, and find that Robin seems to be the only other one awake. You should’ve guessed. She told you once before that her body doesn’t seem to let her sleep in.

Steve is still passed out on the pull-out couch, completely covered by the blankets. The only sign of him is a tuft of messy hair against the light colored pillow case his head rests on.

Robin waves at you from her perch at the kitchen counter, a bowl of cereal in front of her. “Want some?” she whispers, pushing the box in your direction.

You fill up your own bowl, having a feeling that Robin is about to ramble.

“Sleep okay?” she asks.

“Mhm. You?”

“Fine. Though, y’know, Steve is a horrific bed hog. Seriously, he was half on top of me the whole night. I might have to bunk with Max and El.”

You laugh, and Robin takes that as her queue to ask what she’s been pondering since she woke up.

“Was it okay? Sleeping with Billy? Well, not like that. Well, I’m assuming not like that, not that there’s anything wrong with that, but I just meant like actually sleeping? Please stop me.”

You grin at her. “Please breathe, Rob.” She does, over exaggerating her inhales. “And it was fine.”

“Okay, good. I was kind of worried you’d be frustrated with my matchmaking tendencies. I just really want you two to be happy. And he seems so calm when he’s with you, and I realize I’ve just told you that I’ve been pushing you two together and I–”

You wipe milk from your chin, having almost spit out your cereal. “Robin, sweetheart, it’s okay, I promise. I know about your matchmaking tendencies. But I think we’re just friends, right?”

“Just friends, my ass.” You hadn’t even seen Steve get up, but he’s reaching for the fridge and pulling out a carton of chocolate milk. He really can’t say anything about Dustin’s eating habits when he has the exact same diet.

“Oh my god.”

“Listen, I’m just saying, there’s been something going on between you two since before the world went to shit. I don’t know why you two tiptoe around each other like it’s not obvious that you’re in love.”

“Steve!” you exclaim. “Seriously, what the hell? I’ve been up for like twenty minutes and you two are schooling me on my love life?”

“Or lack thereof,” Robin says.

“Okay, damn. You know what, I’m going back to bed.”

Steve pushes your bowl back towards you when you attempt to get up. “No, you’re not. I’m just saying, there’s no sense in avoiding this. You both clearly feel a lot for each other, and I don’t see any reason to avoid it when you could be together.”

He’s being vulnerable with you, his big brown eyes boring into yours and trying to convey how serious he’s being.

“Just think about it, okay? There’s no harm in talking about how you feel with him. And don’t say that you don’t feel anything, because that’s a goddamn lie.”

————

Billy’s had his swim trunks on all day, but he hasn’t done more than sit in the shade by the pool while everyone else makes a mess and plays ridiculous games in the water.

It’s killing him to watch you in there from time to time, swimming around or sitting in the shallow end. You told him once that swimming calms you down.

It’s not until after dinner, when everyone has moved inside for the most part, though there seems to be the plotting of a water balloon fight out front, that he’s brave enough to head for the pool.

You follow him out there, see him contemplating the water.

“Whatcha doin’?”

Billy drops the cigarette he’d been smoking, snubbing it out. “Thought about going for a swim,” he tells you.

“That sounds nice.”

“Mhm.”

“I can go back inside, if you want.”

Billy turns to face you. “No. No, I want you to stay.” He wants you to see. He can’t explain why, but he does.

“Okay.”

He takes a shaky breath, hoping you don’t catch it. You do. You always do.

“I just…wasn’t ready for everyone to see.”

“I understand, Billy.”

You know what he’s really saying. He wasn’t ready for everyone to see. But he’s ready for you to see.

“I can get in first, if that helps. And I won’t look if you don’t want me to,” you say.

“That helps, yeah. And you can look. It’s okay.”

He watches you wade in, watches the way your swimsuit changes color as you tread water.

Billy takes another deep breath, and he’s pulling his shirt off. He’s quick though, diving straight into the deep end, knowing he needs to get it over with.

When he comes up, his hair is sticking to his forehead, and he flips it out of the way, giving you a glimpse of the broad pink scar on his chest.

He meets you halfway, and you think he’s in a serious mood until he’s splashing you like a child.

“You motherfucker!”

You get him back, and he’s laughing.

Billy is laughing and he looks so pretty in the last of the day’s sunlight, beads of water sliding over his collarbones and down his arms, and you feel like you could die. Like seeing him this way is enough. You don’t need anything else.

You try to return a particularly aggressive splash, but he catches your waist, pulling you up and over his shoulder.

“Billy!”

“What?” His voice is teasing. He tosses the rest of the way over, your laughter fading out into the water.

You come up, a brilliant smile on his face. Billy’s sure if you stood close enough you’d be able to hear his heart beating.

When you’ve both gone quiet, your eyes drop to the scars on his sides, the way they stretch across his skin, mean and twisting. Some spots are darker than others, and while it hurts you to look at them, you know it must hurt him even more. But he looks just as beautiful as before, if not increasingly so.

“See something you like?” Billy says it on instinct. To hide the fact that he’s worried you don’t really like it. That maybe you think he’s gross looking. But he knows that’s all in his head. He fucking knows it.

“You’re fucking gorgeous, Billy Hargrove.”

You say it with such surety, such admiration, that he can’t even begin to doubt that you mean it.

He smiles at you. It’s boyish. You’d do anything to see a million more of them.

He moves towards you, the sky having darkened enough that the outside lights have come on, the lights in the pool too. All that remains of the sun is a slash of deep orange, though the night quickly pushes it away.

Billy’s got you backed up against the wall of the pool now. His hands find your sides.

It’s overwhelming, having him this close. You can feel his breath on your face, see the rise and fall of his chest, the freckles on his cheeks.

When he kisses you, you think your heart stops. His mouth is warm against yours, and he tastes a little like chlorine, but you don’t care. Your hands find his face, and you’re smiling so hard that he pulls away because he wants to see. You don’t let him for long though, pulling him back, wanting more. He laughs into your mouth, and your chest aches with this feeling.

Eventually you do let go, and when you hold his eye contact, he knows what you’re going to say. He needs to tell you first, though.

“I’m in love with you, you know.”

“I know,” you respond.

He tosses his head back in a laugh, and you press a sweet kiss to his throat.

“I’m in love with you too, Billy.”

“Damn right you are.”

You snort against his chest, lowering slightly to kiss his scar. His breath catches. He doesn’t know what he did to deserve you.

“About fucking time!” Steve’s shouting and Robin is yelling, and Max would be making barf sounds if she wasn’t so pleased with seeing her brother so happy.

“So much for that,” Billy says.

But you wouldn’t have it any other way.

————

“I’m regretting this, Billy.”

“Stop whining.”

Billy wraps his arms tighter around your back, pressing a kiss to your jaw in hopes that you’ll let him keep doing this.

“Get off.”

“No.”

“Get off, please.”

“Make me.”

There’s the sound of a slap, your hand having met his ass.

He raises his head from where he’d buried it in your chest, looking at you drowsily. “You just spanked me.”

And you’d do it again.

“Didn’t work, did it?”

“No. Shut up and take it.”

By that he means continue letting him lay on top of you, his entire body pressed to yours. It doesn’t matter to him that there’s an entire bed, one that’s made for two people.

You settle for playing with his hair, something he seems to enjoy, and you’d mess with him about the fact that he’s essentially purring if it weren’t for him looking so content.

He might be heavy, but having Billy Hargrove sleep on top of you isn’t exactly something you just give up.

He’s never had this before.

Hell, you’ve never had this before.

And he thinks it’s healing him. More than the salve he puts on his scars, or the physical therapy, or fixing up the Camaro.

You’re healing him. You.

————

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

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oneforthemunny · 7 months ago

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what we do in the shadows |familiar!eddie munson x vampire!reader|

prompt: eddie is your familiar, but sometimes, he can be more than just your supernatural servant.

based off the fx show, what we do in the shadows. a little au version with eddie and the gang from hawkins :)

contains: au. familiar!eddie, vampire!reader. mentions of murder. vampire things. blood. types of vampires (energy vampire lol). mean! bitchy! reader. alludes to smut?? sorta smut but not really but slight dom!reader x sub!eddie. language. minors dni.

“Eddie!”

The muffled screech jolted Eddie from his mundane dusting, the feathered duster falling with a heavy thud onto the dark carpet, dust flying in a cloud at his feet. “Son of a bitch,” Eddie huffed, chains of his belt rattling when he bent, snatching the duster off the rug.

“Eddie! Can you not hear me?” The piercing scream echoed through the hallway, echoing off the dark, wallpapered walls. Eddie knew he needed to hurry, that the banging on the coffin’s lid would come next, your fury following for the rest of the day.

“I’m coming, Mistress!” Eddie’s teeth gritted, sliding down the dim, candlelit halls. How this place had managed to not burn down yet, Eddie wasn’t sure. The three of you were careless enough with the candles, always leaving them burning without a care. He supposed it was his job.

“Eddie! Where the fuck is he?” Your muffled tone came from the coffin, black and dramatic in the middle of the room.

“I’m here, I’m here.” Eddie huffed, pushing his bangs back out of his eyes. He needed a haircut, desperately, but with his new career, he supposed that wouldn’t happen anytime soon.

“Finally,” You growled. Eddie was met with your glowing amber eyes narrowing in predatory rage when he lifted the coffin’s heavy lid. “Do you know how long I’ve been waiting?” You snapped.

“I’m sorry.” Eddie nodded, swallowing back a snapping comment. “I was dusting down the hall, and I lost track of-”

“-Nevermind.” You snapped, rising quickly into a standing position. “Help me down. I have much to do today.”

“Yes, Mistress.” Eddie stood to the side, offering his hand for you to take as you climbed down. He always wondered why you insisted on being helped out, as if you couldn’t fly out, snap your fingers and be wherever you wanted to be. It was symbolic, he decided, a way to ensure that he knew his place.

Your hand slid into his. His skin tickled when you brushed your long, claw-like nails that were freshly painted every Tuesday. He’d gotten very good at it, Eddie thought. A hiss fell through the room, your hand pulled back with a sizzling burn, teeth bared towards him in threat.

“What- Eddie! What have I told you about those rings?” You pointed accusingly at his rings- silver. It was a habit, to slip them on in the morning, one he hadn’t broken yet. “Are you trying to hurt me?”

“No, no.” Eddie shook his head frantically, tugging the rings off, shoving them in his pocket. “I’m sorry. I-I forgot-”

“-I’m sure you did.” You rolled your eyes, lips pursed in displeasure. “Don’t let it happen again. I burn myself again on those cursed things, and you’ll not have a hand to put them on anymore. Understand?” You clipped, nose in the air as you climbed down, nails digging into his skin just enough to solidify the threat.

“Yes, Mistress.” Eddie swallowed, following the commanding sway of your hips. “I won’t let it happen again.”

“Good.” You chirped. There it was. The whirlwind that was your emotions. Mood swings, Eddie never understood why they called them that until he met you. How you would go from raging to sweet in the bat of an eye. Maybe it came with being a vampire.

“Get my dress.” You waved your hand, the heavy mahogany closet door flinging open with ease.

“Which one were you wanting today?” Eddie swallowed his agitated sigh.

It had been a rough couple of days, the three- fuck, four, of his new found ‘roommates’ had been on a bender of sorts. A bender that would put the rockstars he idolized in high school to shame, much more metal than them. It was fun, Eddie would admit, but it was tiresome. Especially when he was still very much human, and so very exhausted.

“The black one.” You hummed, looking into a mirror you couldn’t see yourself in. Habit, of course, even after all these years.

“They’re all black, Mistress.” Eddie gritted, eyes pinching closed.

“The one with the long sleeves.” You waved him off. “You know the one I like.”

And he did. Eddie knew most everything about you at this point. Which dress you liked, your preference of food source, how many candles you liked lit at a time.

Eddie pushed through the racks, stopping when he saw the velvet garment. It was what you were wearing when he first met you. At the Hideout, where he was still bussing tables, hoping to finally get a weekend gig. You strolled in, magnetic from the moment his eyes laid eyes on you. So… intriguing in your tight velvet dress, fastened with a corset that held you up and in beautifully. Initially, he’d went to try and ask you out, and you’d humored his attempts because you were hungry. Then, after a few hours of conversation, you both decided he’d be a better Familiar than a meal.

“Eddie,” You hissed, breath whistling through your fangs. The sound never failed to make Eddie’s spine tingle, hair raising on the back of his neck in fear. “Have you hit your head? Is that it?”

“No,” Eddie grumbled, pushing the wooden hangers.

“Then what is it? Hm? Why are you dragging your feet today?” You snapped, hands curling around your hips.

“My apologies, Mistress.” Eddie huffed. “I’m just- nevermind. Here. I found it.” Eddie pulled the lacy material, hanging sleeves and bouts of black fabric out of the closet, hanging it on the door for you.

“No, finish what you were going to say.” Your eyes narrowed into his, commanding, but lacking the usual tone of challenge and threat. “You’re what?”

“It’s nothing. I’m fine. Do you need help zipping up this one-”

“-No, answer me, Eddie.” You lifted a finger towards him. “Do not make me use compulsion. I know how groggy and moody you get after it, and I have many plans for today. I’d rather not, but if you’re not going to comply, then I will be forced to-”

“-You don’t have to- Fuck, I’m just tired.” Eddie’s shoulders slumped in defeat, running a hand over his face. “I didn’t sleep much last night.”

“Why?” Your head tilted, lips pursed in curiosity, reaching for the dress before sliding behind the dressing curtain.

“Because,” Eddie tried to focus on the carpet, on the candle wax that dripped off the table, anywhere but the curtain you were behind though he ached for even a silhouetted sliver of your frame. “I just couldn’t sleep.”

“Maybe you should get a coffee?” You peaked over the bamboo wood, a brow lifting in… playfulness?

“I think Robin has the lock box in her room. Ask her for it and go get yourself one.” As if draining a victim of their blood wasn’t enough, Eddie’s career consisted of stealing from them too. It always left him feeling a little uneasy, guilty, robbing the deceased.

“I’m alright. I just need a second to wake up.” Eddie muttered, heel of his palm pressing to his eyes, rubbing so hard he saw stars.

“Fine, but I better not hear one yawn during the house meeting.” You glared, stepping out from behind the dressing curtain. “You know how that irks me. Zip me.”

Eddie stood, one hand holding the top together, pulling the zipper slowly up your spine, finger brushing over your spine. Your skin was cold, like ice, a chilling reminder of what you truly were.

“Last chance.” You turned, swiping your shoes from the floor, discarded from the night before. “Before I go and wake the others.”

“I’m fine.” Eddie nodded softly, lips curling with the hinting of a smile. “Thank you.”

Your lips pursed, shifting at the sudden gratitude. He knew you were about to say something mean, put him down to establish your own dominance, you were predictable that way. “Don’t thank me,” You scoffed. “It’s not for you. I don’t want to hear your yawning.” You scoffed, eyes rolling hard towards him, before you were stomping down the creaking wooden planks of the hall.

The Creel Mansion was still standing strong, despite its abandoned looking exterior. It had been your refuge for years, decades even, since Victor had first brought you there. It was his house before, but now all that remained of him was a portrait at the end of the hall, half covered by a black veil you refused to let Eddie move.

“Robin!” Your shrill tone made Eddie wince, ears ringing at the pitch. “Nancy!”

“What?” Robin groaned, her voice muffled with sleep from the door of her coffin, which you pulled open, uncaring of disrupting her slumber. “What- Why?”

“House meeting. Hurry, before he gets home.” You muttered, turning over your shoulder towards Eddie. “Eddie, go check downstairs. Make sure he didn’t slip in early.”

Eddie nodded, grabbing a small handheld lantern- a gift from you. He kept burning himself with the candle opera you’d gifted him, and when he wasn’t searing his skin off with the flame, he was turning to quickly and extinguishing all the flames. You told him it was because he’d wake you up with his fumbling in the dark. When you’d included the batteries with the small lantern, Eddie was convinced it was because you were growing a soft spot for him.

A creaking of a door had Eddie jumping, looking through the flickering flames with his bright plastic lantern. “Uh, hey,” Eddie stepped closer. “Anyone there?”

The silence was an eerie answer, Eddie swinging the lantern around. It was times like this, he really wished that the electricity still worked, that he could flick a light on, and see what was lurking in the shadows. The dining room appeared empty, a few spider webs and lots of dust, but lack of any danger Eddie could see.

“Looking for something?”

“Jesus Christ! What the fuck-” Eddie jumped, nearly dropping his lantern, tripping over his own feet to scatter away from the figure in front of him.

“Did I scare ya?” Jonathan’s lips curled in a half smile, standing rigidly in the doorway. “You know, they say if you get scared easily, you’re not living right. That’s a saying that’s been repeated and found all throughout history. In Christianity, oddly enough, is where they-”

“-Alright, Jonathan. I got it.” Eddie lifted a hand, his heart still hammering. He could feel his lids beginning to droop, eyes starting to gloss over the way they always did when Jonathan ‘fed’. A shitty excuse for a vampire, Eddie thought, What the fuck even is a psychic vampire?

“Oh,” Your face fell, contorting into a grimace when you came down the steps. “Jonathan, you are home early today.”

“Yes, I decided to come home early today.” Jonathan droned in a painful monotone that had your shoulders tensing. “I didn’t want to miss the house meeting.”

“Wonderful.” You grimaced, looking at Eddie with an annoyed sneer. He fought back a snicker, turning to the bat down a cobweb that he missed. You could be funny at times, when you wanted.

“I know you three tried to hide it from me, but you always talk too loud. You forget the walls are thin. Which reminds me, did you know that back in the early nineteen-hundreds when this house was first built, that architects of that time used-”

“-Yes, Jonathan. Please, shut the fuck up.” Robin groaned, falling into the leather armchair.

“Jonathan, I really can’t humor you today.” Nancy glared at him lightly. “You know the rules, if you’re going to be in a house meeting with us, you can’t feed off of us.”

“I know.” Jonathan lifted his hands. “Sorry, I can’t help myself.” He turned to Eddie with a grin. “Guess it’s just you I’ll be feeding from.”

“Not from my Familiar either, Jonathan.” You snapped, teeth baring in territorial threat. “Eddie is off limits.” Eddie’s chest swelled with pride, chin tipping towards the floor, hoping it would hide his blush.

“Why are we even having a house meeting?” Robin rolled her eyes, the bags under her eyes especially prominent from lack of slumber.

“Because,” You hissed, shoulders tight with annoyance. “You three need to get your own familiar.”

Robin scoffed, Nancy rolling her eyes in agreement. “What?”

“You three always call for Eddie to do everything, and it distracts him from me.” You jabbed a sharp nail into your chest. “I need him to be attentive to my needs, not yours. Go get your own familiar.”

“Oh, please-”

“-We only ask him to do a few things that should already be done-”

“-I have to agree with Rob and Nance on this one.” Jonathan lifted a finger.

“Do not call me that.” Nancy hissed, her teeth baring in the dull light of the room.

“Nan?” Jonathan turned, eyes lighting up though his expression stayed neutral, the way it always did when he was feeding.

“Ok,” You lifted your hands, stopping the attack Nancy was about to launch. “Find your own familiar. Eddie is my familiar, and is to attend to me exclusively.”

“I’m sure he does.” Robin muttered, Nancy’s snicker making your ears burn- well, it would, if they still could. Eddie’s cheeks did burn a bright red, shifting at the innuendo.

Your eyes narrowed, a threatening glare that neither of your roommates seemed phased by, only furthering your irritation. A sharp snap of your fingers, heavy soled steps clicking down the hall, and Eddie was following you.

“Idiots,” You hissed, flinging the door open. “All of them. I should’ve told them no, that they’d have to find their own nest, but oh no. I had to feel fucking generous and kind that day.”

Eddie stood in your doorway, hands rubbing down the material of his jeans, unsure of what to say, what to do. His eyes on you, waiting for your next command, for you to tell him what you were wanting, what you were thinking.

“Are you just going to stand there?” You huffed, a lashing tone that had Eddie jumping.

“No, wha-what do you need me to do?” Eddie stammered, uneasy with the glare you were giving him, so menacing. He knew better, or at least he thought he did, that you wouldn’t hurt him. You’d chosen him to be your Familiar for a reason… right?

“I don’t know, something?” You scoffed, eyes rolling back over his frame. “Maybe start with changing your clothes. We’re going out tonight and I’m not being seen with you in that.”

Eddie’s lips pursed, jaw grinding tight. He’d blame the lack of sleep on his agitation. “What do you want me to wear then, Mistress?” Eddie’s tone was bitter, toying on the edge of annoyance.

“Who are you speaking to-”

“-You.” Eddie snapped, shocking both of you. There was a pause, realization washing over the two of you. “I just- I like what I have on, ok?” Eddie’s tone was softer, looking down at his ripped jeans and holey band tee. “It’s what people from this century wear.”

Your lips rolled, flattening into a furious line. For a moment, Eddie thought you might pounce- fully preparing himself for the hiss, the baring of teeth, to feel his throat being ripped from his neck. Instead, you simply huffed, turning on your foot.

“Fine.” A quipping, positively moody huff of a reply came. In that moment, you sounded petulant, human.

“If you insist on wearing mauled clothing, then so be it.” You shrugged, a snarl still pulling on the edge of your lips.

“Thank you.” Eddie nodded, swallowing down the tremble in his throat. “And, uh, thank you for before, too.” You turned, brow lifted in intrigue. “For- During the meeting.”

“I didn’t do that for you.” Your reply was quick, teetering on defensive. “I did that for myself. I can’t wait for you because they’re too lazy to go out and compel their own Familiar.”

“Right.” Eddie’s shoulders slumped in defeat. He gave up, ready to throw the towel in. Clearly, you were set on your mood and there would be no changing it. No swaying it with charming kindness today.

“I’m going to go.” Eddie stepped towards the door. “I’ll go dust or something. Just let me know when you’re ready to go-”

“-No.” Your voice echoed through the halls, bouncing off the walls, a sense of urgency that had Eddie freezing.

You wrung your hands in front of you, anxiously. “No, just- stay in here.”

Eddie frowned. “You just told me to go do something.”

“I know,” You huffed. “But, just stay in here with me. Robin and Nancy won’t be ready for hours, and… and if you go down there Jonathan will try to feed and drain you, and-”

Eddie recognized the ramble in your tone, a sliver of humanity breaking through the cracks of your cold, monstrous exterior. It was rare, you to turn soft like this- needy, but Eddie knew why you did it. He knew what you wanted.

“Fine.” Eddie nodded, stepping into your bedroom, shutting the door carefully so the candles didn’t blow out.

A lingering pause fell between the two of you, thick with an uncomfortable but familiar tension. Routine but an oddity all the same.

“What do you want me to do in here, hm?” Eddie’s voice dropped, slow steps across the hardwood towards you. “Just sit here and stare at you.”

“No,” Your chest tightened. It had been years since your heart had beat, but you swore Eddie could make it skip. “Surely, there’s something better that we could do to pass the time.” You declared, voice a little shaky with desperation to regain your control.

“Yeah? What do you have in mind?” Eddie’s lips curled in a smirk, his face near inches from yours. “I’m at your service, Mistress.”

Your body tingled with heat, the only warmth you craved, the only warmth you needed. You were shocked, when you first transitioned to your undead state, that this feeling didn’t go away. If anything, it grew stronger.

“I think you know what I have in mind.” You glared at him, half heartedly. “Don’t make me beg, or I’ll make you beg later.”

“I would never, Mistress.” Your thighs twitched, Eddie’s hands sliding over the lacy material of your dress, the swell of your hips. “I’m your faithful servant. You just tell me what you want- whatever you need.”

“Hm,” You breathed slowly, your body closing in with him, chest to chest. Your nails raked over the etched skin of his forearms, dragging a sharp nail up his neck, to his jaw. Eddie shuddered, fingers sinking into your waist

Your lip grazed over his, mouth parting just barely, your fangs hovering over his bottom lip teasingly. Eddie swallowed back a moan that you didn’t miss. Your eyes met his, darker now- nearly black, the way they always darkened when you got like this. Aroused and needy, entirely hungry for something.

“You’ve got to be quiet this time.” You gave him a pointed look. “They heard last time. They’re starting to catch on.”

“Sorry.” Eddie swallowed, nose brushing over yours. He wanted to press his hand to the back of your head, kiss you with an urgency, but he knew better. That wasn’t how you liked it. Oh no, you liked the anticipation, the adrenaline filled excitement that came with teasing.

“Who cares if they know anyways?” Eddie muttered brainlessly, eyes glossing when they met yours. “What’s so wrong with it?”

“It’s unnatural.” You whispered. “Complicated.”

“What’s so complicated about it?” Eddie scoffed lightly, hand sliding up your spine, towards your zipper. “You’re turning me into a vampire anyways, right? Why’s it matter?”

You hesitated, breath hitching and ghosting over his lip, chilling him. “It’s just- it makes things difficult now.” You stammered, fingers sliding through his hair. “I don’t want to talk about that now.” Your thumbs pressed lightly to his temples, his eyes meeting yours.

“For now,” You purred, lips curling in a small grin. “I think you should thank me again, but this time,” Your nose brushed over his. “By letting me sit on your face. That seems fair, right? You thank me, I keep you quiet- a win-win.”

Eddie blushed, lips spreading in a wide grin. “Yes, Mistress.”

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mrsjellymunson · 5 months ago

Text

KNOCK AT THE CABIN | Part Two

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Written for @bettyfrommars, @allthingsjoeq and @somnambulic-thing ’s excellent Stranger Prompts challenge - thank you for this, friends!

Series Summary: After the events of the previous months, everyone is shocked by the unexpected return of an old friend. But how much has he changed?

Chapter summary: Some answers, more questions 😉

WC: ~8.5k

C/W: 18+, MDNI, NSFW, series CW for eventual Eddie Munson x fem!reader smut, post-S4, Upside Down exists, dark/supernatural themes, emotional scenes, eventual friends-to-lovers, descriptions of minor injuries, food/eating, mentions of canon-typical torture/experiments.

A/N: This series contains a lot of themes and scenarios that I haven’t written for before, I’d love to know what you think! Please comment and reblog, it means the world to writers, and reblogs mean work gets seen. Abundant thanks to @the-unforgivenn for beta-ing and playing The Thesaurus Game 😛 This series has a taglist so if you’d like to be on either it or my general one just lemme know in a comment, ask or message, I’d love to have you on board 🙏💙

Prev: Prologue Part One

Series masterlist

My masterlist

You wake earlier than they do, shards of sunlight peeking through Steve’s pathetically thin and badly arranged curtains hitting you straight in the face.

You don’t move initially, enjoying the sound of both boys’ soft, rhythmic breaths, grateful they’ve both had the opportunity to rest and sleep.

You use this moment of stillness to allow the events of the previous night to filter through your consciousness. Eddie’s still here. He’s somewhat warmer than he was, and is still breathing. You’ll take all of those as a win.

His arm is still wrapped around your ribs, his chest against your back. During the night, one of his thighs has made its way between yours, and his hips are now pressed up against the swell of your ass.

You suppose that if you look at it objectively, he’s in a pretty good approximation of the Recovery Position. Good for him. Promoting healing, aiding recovery, and all that.

And you suppose that if you look at it subjectively, having the entire length of Eddie’s body squashed against the entire length of yours, and having his leg pressed against you just there, stirs feelings that are inappropriate for you to be having right now. Such as how much you’re enjoying it. How safe you feel. How much you wish there weren’t even these small, thin pieces of fabric separating you from him…

He snuffles behind you, groaning softly, and his arm contracts, pulling you even closer to him. You’d much prefer it was more than just the involuntary tensing of a waking man that’s causing him to do this, but push that thought to the back of your mind.

You slowly turn your head as far as you can, only able to see a little of him out of the corner of your eye. His hair is fuzzy as hell, but that’s the least of your concerns right now.

In what you hope is a soft and comforting voice, you ask,

“Morning, big guy. How’re you feeling?”

Eddie’s voice is cracked and broken, like he hasn’t used it in a while. It’s gravelly and low as he mumbles,

“Mmf. A little sore, but warm. God, it feels so good to be warm…”

His arm clenches around you again, and he pushes his face into the back of your neck.

Trying to cover an unbidden moan, and inject some levity, you reply,

“Well, thank goodness for that, otherwise all of mine and Steve’s efforts last night would’ve been for nothing.”

Eddie shifts, starting to get a sense of where he is and the situation he’s found himself in. It causes Steve to stir behind him and let out a little groan of his own, and you feel Eddie freeze.

Trying to calm him and keep this obviously bizarre situation simple and light, you mumble,

“Yeah, body heat seemed to be the best way to keep you warm. I don’t suppose waking up naked between me and Harrington was on your bucket list, right?”

Eddie’s cheeks don’t exactly flush (going from pale grey to pale pink far too much of a gradient to be entirely achievable right now), but you do notice a little warmth appear in them.

Eddie jests, at least you think he’s jesting, as his grip around you tightens again, stronger this time as his muscles wake up, and he chuckles lightly as he smooshes his face into your hair,

“Well, it's definitely not the worst place I’ve ever woken up.”

This rouses Steve enough that he’s now fully awake, and he seems to remember where he is too. He moves away from Eddie and sits up, rubbing his eyes and yawning. Glancing over, he mumbles,

“Hey, man. So, there’s literally hundreds of things I wanna ask you right now, but I guess I’ll start with, uh, how are you?”

Steve’s face contorts with a mix of incredulity and embarrassment at the utter banality of the question he just asked.

Unfazed, Eddie replies,

“Honestly, dude? I’m not entirely sure…”

He tries to shift his legs to sit up, but realises how enmeshed they are with yours, and inadvertently pushes his thigh up even closer to you.

Steve continues, unable to stop himself.

“What happened? Where have you been? How did you even get here?”

Eddie lets out a long, low exhale.

Finally picking up on how tired Eddie still is, and how tangled your and Eddie’s limbs are, you guess Steve decides he doesn’t want to get into any of that right now and declares,

“Y’know what, I’m gonna go make coffee.”

He grabs some sweats and a crumpled tee, and heads out towards the kitchen, leaving you and Eddie alone.

Fuck, this is awkward.

After a short pause, you mumble,

“Yeah, I suppose we should get up too. The kids are gonna be beside themselves, I’d prepare yourself for a barrage of questions if I were you.”

Exhaling, you somewhat reluctantly extricate yourself from Eddie’s embrace, sitting on the edge of the bed and reaching for the pile of clothes you’re grateful you had the foresight to put out last night.

Pulling on jeans, a worn t-shirt and a woollen jumper, you sit back down and turn to Eddie, who’s now leaning up against Steve’s battered headboard, sheets bunched around his waist.

You notice his eyes are still sunken and red-rimmed, but he’s lost some of the sallowness that he had last night, and his features are significantly more relaxed.

As he sits up you have the chance to observe his torso properly. He’s thinner, and much paler, than the boy you remember. The odd appearance of his musculature that you could see last night is still abundantly present.

And there are scars. Lots of scars. They vary in appearance and colour, rough slashes and violent starbursts, in silvery white, muted pinks and shades of angry purples and reds. Some look smooth and well-healed, whilst others are raised and jagged. Some transect the inked designs you came to know so well, and it looks like he might’ve lost a nipple.

Realising you’ve been staring, you tear your eyes away and move them instead to Eddie’s face. He looks terrified, like he’s worried you’re going to find him abhorrent and run away screaming.

He starts to reach for the covers, to cover himself, but you lunge forwards and grab one of his hands in yours. You don’t break his gaze as you tell him,

“It’s okay, Eddie. You don’t have to hide yourself from me.”

His face softens, but his eyebrows remain pinched and his lips are still pressed tightly together.

Finally looking down as you stroke over his hand with both of yours, you notice that the wounds that you bathed and tended to only a few hours ago are practically healed, only a few areas of redness remaining where there were bleeding gashes and scarlet grazes. Some have almost disappeared.

You decide not to focus on this and concentrate instead on the fact that your friend, your best friend, the one you all thought was dead, is back with you here, right now.

Grasping his hand in both of yours, you murmur,

“However it happened, it’s really, really good to have you back, you know.”

He smiles then, and although it reaches his eyes, it does little to lift the grey pallor of his face.

He brings his other hand over, and as he rubs his thumbs over your knuckles he notices the ring on your thumb. He runs a pad over the contours of the skull.

“You- You kept this?”

“Of course! I wear it every day. It helps me remember my best friend.” Your voice gets quiet as you add, unsure whether you’re overstepping.

“It helps keep you close to me.”

You hold each other's gaze for a beat too long, and Eddie’s lips open as if he’s going to say something.

Before he has the chance, a ball of anxiety rises in your throat, and you decide you can’t take the risk of him… what?

Telling you you’re stupid? That it doesn’t mean anything? That he wants his ring back?

You know none of this sounds like anything Eddie would say, but in your fragile, exhausted state you need to protect yourself from the risk of emotional harm, no matter how small.

You remove your hand from his and bend to retrieve the clothes Steve left for him, reasoning with a small smile,

“We don’t want you getting cold again, right?”

Eddie starts to dress, grunting a little as his limbs start working again. He only has time to pull on the worn sweatshirt when the door bursts open and the kids rush in. Dustin first, swiftly followed by Mike and Lucas, whilst Will and Jane hang back in the doorway.

The three teens leap, grinning, onto Steve’s bed, whooping and hollering and rolling around. They’re full of questions and theories and tales of what they’ve been doing whilst he’s been gone, all talking over one another.

Whilst Eddie is smiling and laughing and you can tell he’s buoyed by their love and exuberance, you also know he still needs to recover from last night, let alone whatever else he might have been through these past few weeks. So after a few minutes you shoo them out, instructing them to go help Steve make breakfast.

Dustin’s the last to leave, pausing in the doorway as he turns back, running his hand down his cheek and saying, with an infinitely adoring expression on his face,

“I can’t believe you’re here, man. It’s so good to have you back.”

They share friendly smiles before Dustin turns on his heel and follows the others, his voice decreasing in volume as he heads down the hallway yelling,

“I’m on toast duty today! You guys ate all the good peanut butter last time…”

You both snicker at their antics, Eddie shaking his head a little.

You want to say more, but settle for,

“They missed you. We all did.”

Eddie furrows his eyebrows and rolls his lips inwards into a tight-lipped smile, and you sense that he’s just as emotional as you all are.

He continues dressing, and you’re relieved the kids didn’t see Eddie’s scars, for all their sakes. You’re not sure whether they’re ready to revisit what happened in the Upside Down, and you don't want Eddie’s first day back with you all to involve him having to uncomfortably explain where they all came from.

He dons the rest of the unfamiliar clothing, and eventually stands, facing you. He spreads his arms wide and pulls a goofy face, raising his eyebrows high and flattening his mouth into a thin line, knowing how unlike ‘him’ he must look right now.

You never imagined you’d ever see your favourite black-loving metalhead in an oversized heather grey Hawkins Athletic sweatshirt, worn navy sweatpants and fluffy white sports socks, but needs must, and at least it’s all clean and he’s staying warm.

There’s a crash in the kitchen, startling both of you, but it prompts you to suggest,

“Come on, let’s go see what chaos those guys are causing.”

You direct him to the front of the house, and as Eddie shuffles into the kitchen all eyes turn to him. You see the kids take in his fluffy hair and new garb. He notices and, preemptively gesturing to himself and in a very close approximation of his Dungeon Master voice, says,

“If anyone says anything about this, I swear I will kill you. Got it?”

Mike and Lucas try to act like they weren’t even looking, and Dustin raises his hands in supplication. Jane laughs at the boys’ responses and Will smirks at the shenanigans, and you’re certain he and Eddie are going to get along just fine.

The kids have made everyone a simple breakfast of boiled eggs, toast and fresh oatmeal and they bring it to the large farmhouse-style table as everyone gets situated. Craving his proximity, you take the chair next to Eddie. Steve’s made a large pot of hot coffee, which is swiftly devoured by the four adults and almost instantly requires replenishment.

The kids want to fill Eddie in on, well, everything. Over breakfast there’s much chatter about what’s been happening in town, how the three of you ended up staying here, how kind and supportive Wayne and Owens have been, even a somewhat discombobulating discussion of what Eddie’s funeral was like. Plus there’s tales from the boys about D&D and stuff that’s important to the teens, most of which you zone out of.

Eddie is also properly introduced to the two he doesn’t know. He greets Will with a broad smile and claps both his hands around the boy’s slender one, a symbolic gesture full of characteristic Eddie warmth, welcoming another sheep even though this particular one has known the others for many years.

You don’t think anyone else notices, but you don’t miss the moment of extended eye contact and tiny nods that are exchanged between him and Jane, as they are introduced and shake hands.

Eddie seems to have a good appetite, devouring four warm, runny-yolked eggs, three slices of toast slathered with butter and jelly, and two large bowls of oatmeal with honey and syrup in rapid succession.

There’s some syrup on his chin when he’s finished. You want to clean it off with your thumb and suck it into your mouth, but you resist the urge.

The food cheers him, even seems to put a little colour in Eddie’s cheeks. Well, perhaps not colour exactly, but a move from grey to white is certainly progress. It’s hardly Cordon Bleu cuisine, but Eddie’s hoovered it up like it’s the best meal he’s ever had. You wonder what he’s been surviving on all this time to make such simple stuff seem so luxurious.

Coffee mugs are refreshed, the table is cleared, and there follows a semi-formal exchange of the personal items of Eddie’s that are in the cabin. Lucas returns his pocket knife, which Eddie thanks him for with a bro handshake and a half-hug, and Dustin gets down on one knee and presents him with his wallet chain on outstretched hands, as if he’s presenting a weapon or battle trophy to his commander. Eddie ruffles his hair and brings him in for a crushing bear hug.

Robin and Steve return his crucifix and boar’s head rings, which he dons, and you can’t help noticing that they’re slightly looser than they used to be. You’re grateful nobody questions why you don’t return the skull ring to him, or seems to notice the knowing glance and small smile that he gives you.

Dishes are cleaned and yet more coffee is brewed, and you head to the utility room to see how Eddie’s clothes are doing in the (noisy, and possibly unsafe) drier. As you return there’s a lull in the conversation.

Ever the direct one, Robin can’t stand the not knowing any longer, and as Steve pours the next round of coffees she blurts,

“So, what the fuck happened? We thought you were dead. You were dead. They fucking buried you!”

The kitchen falls silent for a moment, nobody sure how much Eddie wants to divulge or relive.

He wraps his palms around his steaming mug, and takes a long, slow, deep breath in and out before he starts talking.

“I don’t remember much after that night with the, uh, Demobats. I kinda remember being jostled into a van, or a military-type vehicle maybe? And tubes, bright lights, people shouting…

“The next thing I know, I’m in some kind of lab, a poky room with a tiny cot and metal furniture, and people coming in at all hours to prod at me and stick me with needles. They did all sorts of tests and injected me with shit, and they wouldn’t tell me what any of it was.

“I’m not sure whether it’s a good or a bad thing that I can’t remember a lot of detail. It’s mostly just pain, agony, and being either chained or locked up. And screaming, so much screaming... Whether that was me or the others, I don’t know.”

You interject,

“There- There were others?”

He nods slowly.

“Yeah, definitely more than just me. I have no idea how many, who they were, what happened to them...”

His hands start trembling, and he lets go of the mug that’s started to shake in his grip, quickly putting his hands in his lap.

“I think the injections they were giving me were concoctions made from the… things they found… down there.

“Owens visited me a couple of times. He said he didn’t like what was being done to me but he wasn’t able to change anything. The last time I saw him he told me he was being transferred to a different site and didn’t think he’d be able to visit again, but he wanted me to know there was someone on his side.”

There’s a brief pause before he continues,

“The last, uhh, experiment was the worst-”

Eddie screws up his face and clenches his teeth at the memory, and balls up one fist, bringing it up to his pursed lips. He squeezes his eyes closed, and a tear appears at the corner of one eye.

You don’t know whether it’s the right thing to do, but you grab his other hand under the table, hoping it’ll give him comfort but fully expecting him to flinch away.

He doesn’t, and his hand clamps around yours in a fierce grip, almost crushing it.

Voice trembling and breaking, he continues.

“It was- Jesus H Christ- it was like liquid fucking fire. All I remember was feeling like they’d injected me with molten lava, and then there was so much shouting, and hands holding me down, and then everything went black...”

He pauses, and nobody else speaks.

Steve swallows, the tap drips into the sink and Robin’s rings clink softly against her coffee mug as she turns it anxiously.

“And then… And then the next thing I remember is coming to, and feeling cold, so- so fucking cold. And darkness, absolute darkness. And I was so scared, and I just started scraping and scratching at whatever was over me, and just kept scrabbling and digging until… there wasn’t anything over me anymore.”

You’re all stunned.

Someone says a quiet ‘fuck’, and you think you hear a sob, perhaps from Dustin.

Steve remains silent but runs a hand through his hair, palm coming to rest over his mouth, and Robin mutters a soft,

“Shit, Eddie.”

You all realise that Eddie wasn’t lying on a slab at all for these past two months, but was being experimented on, and it takes a long moment to sink in.

Eventually, Eddie says,

“Fuck. They really buried me, huh?”

To illustrate his point and as an attempt to inject some humour into the moment, he loosely combs his fingers through his fluffy locks and asks, “When I got here, did I have stuff in my hair?”

There are a few chuckles, and someone throws a balled up paper napkin at him.

There’s another short pause where nobody says anything, but then it’s like a dam breaks and everyone starts talking at once. Robin and Steve make comparisons with the Russians, the kids offer D&D analogies and half-baked scientific theories, and people ask Will and Jane what they think.

For the rest of the morning much discussion ensues, as well as the consumption of store-brand cookies and even more coffee, and you all try to fill in the blanks. Whilst some of the kids interject with ideas and suggestions, others sit quietly, mostly listening. You wonder quite how much secondhand trauma this is going to cause all of them.

As a group you eventually surmise that some shadowy branch of the military was battering Eddie and the others with all sorts of tests, and injecting them with unknown substances, goals unknown and refusing to tell anyone what they were.

Owens clearly never agreed with their approach, and it sounds like he tried to distance himself as much as possible.

The military finally took their experiments too far. Thinking they’d killed him, they eventually released Eddie’s body to his only family, Wayne, and allowed him to be buried.

Unbeknownst to them, their final experiment was the most successful, it just took longer to manifest than the others. Weeks, in fact. Just long enough for the scientists (if you could even call them that) to lose any expectation of a recovery, and for Owens and Wayne to organise a funeral.

Eddie had awoken, dazed, trapped and freezing and with no idea where he was, and had somehow managed to smash the lid of his coffin and scramble his way to the surface. On a rainy night, miles from anywhere.

Finally, Mike is the first to ask the question you think most of you have been contemplating.

“Dude, how did you even find us?”

At particularly painful points in his oration, Eddie has looked to you, seemingly finding comfort in your face, and his gaze doesn’t leave yours as he replies,

“Honestly? I don’t really know. I just had this… feeling… that I needed to come in this direction. And the closer I got, the more certain I was that this is where I’d find you.” Hurriedly, he looks around the rest of the group and adds, “Find you all.”

He carefully lays the hand not holding yours flat onto the table, and, eyes fixed on the faded floral tablecloth, he chokes back a sob as he asks a question that he’s clearly been holding back.

“Why didn’t anyone- Why didn’t you come find me?”

Robin grabs his hand across the table, wrapping it in both of hers, holding it tightly. There’s a beat of silence before she speaks.

“W-we didn’t know! They didn’t tell us anything about any lab. We thought you were dead. Eddie, that first night? They told us you’d died!”

Her voice cracks on the last word, and you see tears start to slowly run down her cheeks.

Eddie chokes, and his eyes lift to the ceiling.

Dustin’s the first to move as he scrapes his chair back and sprints around to Eddie, enveloping his shoulders and neck in a clumsy but aggressively enthusiastic hug as he mumbles into his friend’s shoulder,

“But you’re not dead. You’re not. You’re here, with us, now. You’re back, Eddie, you’re back...”

Lucas stands too, ruffling Eddie’s hair and half-hugging the top of his head with one arm, leaning his cheek against Eddie’s curls, and you lean into Eddie, placing your forehead against the side of his bicep.

Steve turns from where he’s been brewing even more coffee, and moves to place his hand on a patch of shoulder not covered by Dustin or Lucas, patting softly. As he turns back to the stove he comments,

“Yeah, man. D’you really think we wouldn’t’ve come got you? Fuck those guys and all their crappy experiments. No one does that to a member of The Party.”

You simultaneously feel Eddie’s grip on your hand tighten, and the rest of his body relax. Many of you are crying, the sleeves of Eddie’s sweater darkening in patches from the wet plops of Dustin’s tears.

Will and Jane are affected too, and you see their faces soften as they clasp each other's hands under the table.

Eddie’s breath deepens as he absorbs the love and affection of his friends. You guess he’s not used to this much positive attention, and has clearly received even less over the last few weeks.

You all sit in silence for a few long moments, allowing all this new information to sink in and emotions to settle.

Eventually the noise of the stove and the clattering of coffee supplies, together with a strong gust of wind and the increased pattering of leaves against the window, brings you all back to the room.

Eddie seems to have processed everything faster than the rest of you, his emotions shifting, and as Steve pours more coffee he becomes agitated, slamming his fists on the table, startling all of you with the ferocity of his movements.

You guess he’s angry not only at the testing he underwent, but that they lied to all of you, and let him feel hopeless, like nobody cared.

The kids move back as he stands and starts pacing, running his hands through his already-frizzy hair and shaking his head.

“FUCK! Those bastards! Not only did they use me as some kind of twisted lab rat, but they didn’t even tell you guys I was alive? And they let me think that none of you cared enough to come find me, visit me, get me out? GODDAMMIT!”

He slams a palm into the doorframe, and you all jump a little.

Turning back to the room, Eddie notices the effect he’s having on everyone, and, rubbing the back of his neck, says,

“I think I’m gonna go take a walk…”

He moves towards the back door, the expanse of the disused field behind the cabin seemingly the ideal place for him to get his head together.

But, spying the large axe leaning against the frame, he has a better idea.

“Hey, uh, do you guys have, like, logs ‘n’ shit that need chopping? I really need to, um, work through some stuff. Besides, it’s probably the least I can do, given how much heat and hot water I’ve already cost you all.”

He gives a sheepish snort and brings his hand to his face again.

It’s you who speaks first.

“Are you sure, Eddie? I mean, it’s been a stressful few days. Are you okay to be doing something so… physical?”

“Yeah, yeah… I’m feeling a little… pent up. Could do with working some of it off, y’know?”

You nod, figuring all of you are going to need different ways to process this whole bizarre and unsettling situation.

Dustin and Mike find some old tan workboots in a closet, presumably left by the previous owner. They don’t fit perfectly, and it looks like something may have nested in one of them at some point, but they’ll do for now. Eddie pulls them on over his loaned sweats and socks, leaving them unlaced.

Robin offers him his leather jacket. She’s obviously had a go at cleaning off as much of the mud as she can, but you can all tell it’s never going to be quite the same. At least it’s dry now, and Eddie takes it gratefully.

He grabs the old axe and the small hatchet that you use to chop kindling, unlocks the back door and steps outside, closing it behind him.

Dustin wants to go out to him, but Robin grabs him and holds him in a tight hug, explaining that he needs some time to process stuff.

The others give him space, some staying at the kitchen table to process their thoughts, others retreating to the living room and diverting their thoughts with the crackling cartoons that break through the terrible TV signal.

You choose to keep an eye on Eddie, staying back a little from the back door so as not to alarm him, but keeping him within your eye line.

You see Eddie pace a little, muttering to himself, then he shakes his head as if to clear it.

He turns to the log pile and hefts the axe a couple of times, getting the feel of it. He lifts a couple of modestly sized logs onto the stump, wielding the axe above his head and splitting them easily. Almost… effortlessly.

He chops a few more, flinging them into a pile with ease, then moves to lift a few larger ones, breezing through them with the same ‘hot knife through butter’ nonchalance.

It’s the most physical activity you’ve ever seen him do, aside from lifting the odd amp or two, which always left him puffed out. But he’s sailing through the woodpile with barely any exertion.

You can see he’s still processing the contents of your morning, as his features screw up occasionally and grumbled words and what are probably profanities spill from his lips.

As he hefts the axe through the tough logs you can see his eyes are getting redder, and his skin appears paler. You can’t see his body, but the tendons on his hands and neck are popping starkly underneath his translucent skin. And, the wind has picked up considerably since he’s been outside, whipping loose leaves and twigs around the cabin just like it did last night.

Eventually, he starts on the biggest, gnarliest logs. The ones you guys would only attempt when you really, really needed the firewood.

You hear grunts, muffled by the back door, as he works the tougher wood.

The axe gets stuck partway through a particularly thick log, and with an animalistic grunt Eddie yanks the blade from it. Easily lifting the log in his arms, he notches his long fingers into the groove and, in a move that startles you, he rips it into two pieces with his bare hands.

By the back door you suppress a gasp, your hand flying across your mouth and your eyes going wide. You’re not sure whether you should go to him, try to comfort him, or leave him to work through this in whatever way he needs to.

You don’t get the chance to decide, as he finally gets to a particularly old and knotty log that none of you have been able to get anywhere close to splitting. As Eddie slams the axe down into it with a ferocity you didn’t think was possible, he gets it far further than any of you have so far, but again, the blade gets stuck.

The wind picks up even more, as Eddie picks up the axe, log attached, and heaves it around his head, sending it spinning across the back field as he lets out a loud, feral and painful-sounding yell.

Breathing deep for a couple of moments, he runs a hand down his face and begins to trudge across the bumpy earth to retrieve it, coping easily with the rough and uneven ground of the ploughed field and his ill-fitting boots. You can see he’s still yelling expletives and occasionally waving his arms and shouting up into the sky.

The distance that he’s managed to throw the axe is substantial enough that he shrinks in your field of vision by the time he reaches it. You can no longer make out his expression, but as he comes to a halt you do see him bend over and place his hands on his knees, watching his back heave as he takes a few more deep, steadying breaths.

He lifts the axe and heaves both it and the attached heavy log easily over his shoulder with one hand. You consider that you’ve never seen him lift anything with such ease, save maybe his leather jacket, flung over his back, dangling it from one finger on a hot day.

As he turns and starts making his way back to the house, you notice that the wind has started to die down and is whipping less of Eddie’s hair around his face, and leaves and twigs begin to fall to the ground.

You hadn’t realised Jane had come to join you at the back door. Despite not directly knowing Eddie before, she says, in her characteristically deadpan voice, “He is… different now. Isn’t he?”

You purse your lips and nod, quick and small, and find it remarkable that this seemingly awkward young woman, who’s endured so much at the hands of so many, has developed such insight and tenderness.

After removing the axe from the gnarly chunk of wood and placing it by the back door, Eddie spends a few minutes arranging the logs he’s split into neat piles beneath the small shelter. The skin around his eyes is less red now, and his general demeanour seems more relaxed, controlled. Perhaps this has helped after all.

He takes a couple of breaths and composes himself before he heads back towards the door, holding the axe in one hand and a stack of logs atop his other arm.

Bashful, and conscious that you’d rather he didn’t know that you’ve been watching him the entire time, you take a few steps backwards and make like you’re just now coming to the door, opening it for him with a broad smile and directing him to the place in the living room where you store the wood for the fire, thanking him for his efforts.

As he places the last of the wood and starts to take off his jacket, you notice that his hands are again torn and bloody, splinters sticking out every which way and an angry-looking blister on one palm.

You assume that he’s reopened his wounds from last night, but the positions and patterns don’t match up. Everything from last night has almost completely healed, and these are all new.

Regardless of the peculiarities, they need attention, so you instruct him,

“Come with me, let’s get you cleaned up.”

You send him to your bedroom as you grab some washcloths, a bowl of warm water and the first aid kit from the bathroom.

You sit him up against your headboard, setting up your supplies on the comforter. Figuring it’s the most practical position for you to be in, you straddle his knees and begin dabbing at his cut and splintered hands with antiseptic. Realising there’s too much debris in the way, and wincing at the sheer size and quantity of them, you grab some tweezers, removing the splinters of various sizes that have embedded into his fingers and palms.

As you swap back to using the wet cloths and begin cleaning the blood from his skin, you’re perhaps less surprised than you should be to find that the new injuries have already stopped bleeding, and some of the smaller ones even appear to be closing up, apparently heading the same way as the cuts on his face and feet from whatever happened last night.

You work quietly for a few moments before your curiosity gets the better of you.

“Eddie?”

“Hmm?”

“What was that? Outside, just now? You seem…”

“Different? Yeah, I know… Don’t ask me how it happened, but I feel different too. Stronger, faster…”

He glances at you through his bangs.

“Less in control…”

His brow is furrowed as he holds your gaze, and you guess he’s waiting for you to back off. You don’t.

“I guess they… changed me.”

You move to touch his chin gently with one hand, wanting to reassure him. You realise that by telling him this you’re going to reveal that you were watching him, but you forge ahead anyway.

“Listen, I’m not gonna pretend that whatever it is that I just saw wasn’t a little… unnerving. But I’ve never felt unsafe around you. Quite the opposite, in fact. And that hasn’t changed. I don’t think it ever will.”

He refuses to meet your gaze, and twists his battered hands together in his lap, seemingly fighting with himself.

“I should go. Leave you guys. You’re not safe with me here.”

A vice grip seizes your chest. All logic leaves you, and the only thing you can think about is never letting him go again.

“Eddie, no!”

“I don’t really know what their plan was, but I’m guessing they were trying to make me into a super soldier, or something. They’re not gonna stop. As soon as they find out what happened at the cemetery, they’re gonna try to find me. And if I could find you, they can find me.”

A ball of anxiety forms in you. You can’t let him go. You just can’t.

“I thought you were dead, we all did. I’ve only just found you again, after I thought I’d lost you forever. Please don’t say you’re going to leave?”

Your voice cracks and you swallow back a sob. You lurch forward and grip both of his hands with all the strength you have left, not caring that you’re getting his blood on you, and might even be hurting him.

If Eddie feels any pain, he doesn't flinch. But the sight of you falling to pieces in front of him, because of him, is apparently something he can’t bear.

“Okay, I won’t. I’ll stay tonight, at least. Then we’ll try to figure something out. Maybe contact Owens, see if he knows anything. Alright?”

He raises his head and looks into your eyes now, as you snuffle a little and manage a small smile. He’s yours for tonight, at least.

No, not exactly yours, you have to remind yourself. He’s safe, with all of you, for tonight, at least.

Something else decides to jostle for prominence in your mind, and you ask him, quietly,

“How did you find us? Really. How did you know where to go?”

Eddie takes a deep breath before shifting slightly, and he returns the grip on your hands.

You think you hear a little trepidation in his voice as he speaks.

“I don’t know if this is going to sound crazy, but… what doesn’t these days, right? It’s like- Even before… everything, it’s like every time I left you I left a part of my soul with you. And… it would stay with you all the time we were apart. And then whenever I was with you I’d find it again. That’s how I found you. It was like I was searching for a piece of myself, and somehow I just knew where to find it.”

He goes quiet, dropping his chin to his chest again.

His words play on a loop in your head. Even before… I left a part of my soul with you… and whenever I was with you I’d find it...

You shift forwards even more, closing the gap between you, and the movement makes you become acutely aware of your proximity. You become conscious of the feel of his firm thighs between yours, how good it feels. How, for the second time in less than twenty four hours, you wish there weren’t these thin pieces of fabric between you.

Something sparks in your chest: Could he feel the same way as you?

Your voice trembles as you practically beg him,

“I don't want you ever to leave, Eddie. I don’t want us to ever be apart, and always be there for each other. I don’t want you to ever be missing a part of your soul again. I want to be with you, always.”

Eddie huffs out a sob of his own, lifting your hands to his and nuzzling his face into your knuckles. He takes one and slowly turns his head until his round nose connects with your curled fingers. And then, ever so slowly, he connects his lips with the soft, sensitive skin on your palm.

Tentatively, he moves a little and purses them against the inside of your wrist, lightly pressing them there, inhaling deeply and his breath shuddering slightly as he inhales your scent.

You notice both of your breathing has quickened. You can feel Eddie’s as it passes over your skin, and you feel your heartbeat in your throat.

Eddie looks over at you. His body may have changed in myriad ways, but his eyes remain the same. They’re still the huge, beautiful, warm pools of cacao that have drawn you in since the moment you met. It’s the tether that makes you realise that no matter how else he might’ve changed, deep down he’s still Eddie. Your Eddie.

You move your other hand, gently taking his wrist, and move his free hand up to your face. You close your eyes as you softly kiss his palm, and then move his hand to cup your cheek.

Gently, almost imperceptibly, Eddie moves his thumb and touches it to the very corner of your mouth. You feel a heat in your belly and you turn your head towards it, skimming it over your lips.

Your eyes flick between his chocolate orbs as Eddie bends his thumb ever so slightly. The pad of it pulls at the plush of your lower lip a tiny amount, but it’s enough to create a gap.

Without thinking you start to open your jaw, and he begins to move forwards. As he pushes into your waiting mouth all you can think about is tasting him, and your tongue starts to move. Just as the tip of it is about to make contact with Eddie’s thumb, there’s a jarring yell.

“Hey, everybody! Grub’s up!”

You pull apart with a start, both inhaling sharply.

It’s Robin, calling from the kitchen. Of course you’re grateful that the mums never allow the kids to arrive empty handed, but a large part of you wishes that you and Eddie could’ve had just a little more time to explore… whatever this is.

You let out nervous chuckles as you smile softly at one another, and hold each other’s gaze for probably little longer than is strictly necessary before you gather up the medical supplies and you both stand.

You can’t help but take Eddie’s hand in yours as you pull him towards the kitchen, encouraging him to follow lest he misses out on the delicacy that is Dustin’s mom’s substantial contribution.

“C’mon, Claudia’s lasagnas are totally legendary. It may sound simple, but combined with Mrs Sinclair’s recipe for garlic bread, I promise you, you’re about to have a near-spiritual culinary experience.”

Still feeling the heat of what just occurred in your room you busy yourself with packing away the first aid kit, and then elect to sit across the table from Eddie. You convince yourself that you’re not avoiding him, simply allowing the kids the chance to get close to him for a little while.

As if reading your mind, Dustin immediately plants himself in the chair next to Eddie, swiftly followed by Mike on his other side. Lucas sits next to Dustin, and Will slides in next to Mike. They chatter excitedly about campaigns and creatures and characters, and to see Eddie flanked by his adoring sheep brings a different kind of warmth to your chest.

The conversation remains light over dinner. Jokes are cracked, teasing occurs, and you’re pleased everyone’s getting a break from the tension and horrors.

The culinary delights are as good as you’d promised, and Eddie hums and moans at the delicious bounty before him. He remains pale, but he’s definitely regained some strength, vigour.

He glances over at you after taking an especially large mouthful of the meaty dish, and after you stop giggling at his uncouth antics he grins at you, tomato sauce staining his lips and the sides of his mouth, confirming,

“You’re right, this is goddamn heavenly!”

At another point he takes a particularly large bite of some soaked bread, and herb-flecked garlic butter oozes all over his thumb. Your eyes are drawn to it as he brings it to his mouth and presses it between his plump lips, and your eyes connect across the table as he sucks it off, twisting the digit and temporarily giving himself the most salacious pout. He spots you looking, and leaves his thumb in his mouth for what you consider is altogether too long before pulling it out with a pop. You gulp audibly and shift in your seat, grateful for the general clamour disguising your arousal.

You haven’t discussed as a group whether or where Eddie’s going to stay, though it seems to be unspoken between all of you that of course he’s going to remain here until you can all figure out what to do next. You decide not to raise the earlier conversation you had about him possibly leaving.

Dustin’s the first to broach the subject, asking,

“So, where’re you sleeping tonight, Eddie? You wanna come bunk with us in the warmest room in the house?”

He wiggles his eyebrows, attempting to extol the virtues of the open fire. His excitement is palpable, and you envy the optimism of youth that can make even the least appealing flat surfaces sound like an enticing bedspace.

You interject on Eddie’s behalf, suggesting,

“Hey guys, I know it would be the coolest sleepover ever, but I think Eddie might’ve earned the luxury of an actual bedroom after what he’s been through recently, don’t you think?”

Dustin looks crestfallen, but recovers quickly, agreeing with an only slightly pouty,

“I suppoooooose…”

Without looking at the others, you turn to Eddie and proffer,

“You’ll stay in my room, right?”

Eddie nods, his curls bouncing, as he agrees, perhaps a little too quickly,

“Of course, yep, that sounds… entirely fine.”

You miss how Robin and Steve glance at each other, Steve raising an eyebrow as Robin smirks at him.

There’s a quick clean up as dishes are done and pans are left to soak. Craving normalcy, you pile into the small living room and manage to make it through about two thirds of another of Keith’s loaned films before blinks get longer, eyes start to close and heads start to loll.

Robin chivvies the teens to get their sleeping bags set up, and there’s the typical grousing and bickering as everyone tries to use the bathroom at the same time. You think at one point three of the boys are trying to use the sink simultaneously, jostling each other and spitting far too enthusiastically in an effort to spray their compatriots. It’s a small nugget of frivolity that makes you consider the possibility that you might just all be okay.

Steve moves the small electric heater from his room back to yours, and you retrieve Eddie’s clothes from the drier. He slips into his Hellfire shirt and clean boxers as you change into your Garfield nightshirt, and then starts to grab blankets from beside you.

Confused, you question,

“What’re you doing?”

“Oh, uh… I just thought I’d sleep on the floor, y’know, give you the bed.”

You’re aghast.

“Don't be silly, Eddie. There’s plenty of room. Sleep up here, please? I mean, it’s not like we never have before. All those nights in the trailer when I got too baked to make it home, or you got too baked to drive me, or both…”

You both chuckle at the fond memory. You wonder whether you’ll ever let on that sometimes you were faking it, or deliberately took too many drags from the last blunt, just so you could spend the night with him, in his bed.

He throws the blankets back over and, smiling, climbs in beside you.

Turning off your bedside light, the room becomes bathed in the low, pale blue glow of the moonlight.

You both lie on your backs, staring at the ceiling. Somehow it’s easier to talk like this.

Thumbing the skull ring on your hand, you want to talk about the… other thing that happened, but have no idea how to bring it up.

As you’re ruminating, Eddie beats you to it.

“I hope it wasn’t weird? Earlier, I mean. It was…”

Your thighs clench a minuscule amount as you recall the feel of him between them, and the lightest brush of your lips on various parts of each other, and you finish his sentence for him.

“Nice. It was nice.”

Shit. It was so much more than nice, you think to yourself.

“I don’t want you to think I’m taking advantage of you, or anything. I guess I’m just a little touch-starved, y’know…?”

“I don’t. Honestly, I’m just glad to be close to you again. And if I made you feel uncomfortable then I’m really sorry…”

You can tell by the minor shifts in the covers and from his general demeanour that Eddie’s fidgeting with his hands.

“You didn’t, I promise.”

There’s another pause, and Eddie huffs out another small breath before he continues,

“Listen, I know the past twenty-four hours has basically been weirdness personified, and I don’t want to make it even weirder, but…can I… maybe… hold you?”

“I think weird is probably the understatement of the century, but it’s okay. And… I think I’d like that.”

You shift closer to one another under the covers, and you turn onto your side as Eddie moves himself to spoon behind you in an echo of your position last night.

He tentatively drapes his arm over you. He feels warmer than when you last did this, and more relaxed, and you press slightly backwards towards him as much as you dare, letting out a heavy, relaxed sigh.

You take Eddie’s hand in yours, threading your fingers with his, running yours over and between his digits and turning his forelimb this way and that. He hums into your hair and lets you move his arm however you like.

But you stop when you glance down in the dim light and spot a small tattoo on the inside of his wrist that you’ve not seen before. It’s definitely new. You know this because you’ve spent hours tracing over every inch of his inked skin, fantasising about following the images with more than just your eyes, imagining using your fingers, your hands, your lips, your tongue…

But this one’s not like any of his others. This one is small and simple, and looks like the outlines of two soft-cornered rectangles with a blocky W between them. It takes you a moment to process what you’re looking at, realising it looks a lot like one you’ve seen before. She’s had it covered with a delicate floral design (having connections in government really can get you anything, including underage ink), but you remember what it looked like.

Jane’s was a rectangle stacked on top of two horizontal lines, but when you looked at it from a different angle it became numbers: 011.

Looking at Eddie’s, you move the position of his arm. It turns the image a little, suddenly giving it more meaning, as you see it depicts a different number: 030.

Quietly, you croak,

“Eddie, what’s thi-?”

You don’t have a chance to process what any of it could mean as Eddie suddenly tenses, his head lifted from the pillows and his face flicking towards the window and back to you.

His brow furrows as he murmurs,

“Do you hear that?”

You strain your ears and hear nothing at first. But then, gradually, and from far away, you hear the disturbingly familiar sounds of flapping, shuffling and screeching.

Goosebumps appear on your arms and the back of your neck as you abruptly recall the only things you know of that make sounds like these:

Creatures from the Upside Down…

Prev: Prologue Part One

Series masterlist

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Thanks so much for reading!

I really hope you enjoyed this part. The next one will probably be the last, and the taglist is open (as is my general one), just say the word, friend 🙂

Comments and reblogs mean the world to me - please let me know what you think!

A/N 2: Did anyone spot the LOTR, Captain America and/or Make Up references? 🧝‍♂️🪓👍 (Also, completely by accident, AQPDO too 😜, and ETA: this and THIS 🫠)

Taglist: @joejoequinnquinn @jamdoughnutmagician @ali-r3n @eddiemunsonshandcuffs @jasminelafleur @corrodedcoffincumslut @kthomps914 @iletmytittiestitty-russ @findmeincorneliastreet @tlclick73 @sapphire4082 @razzeith @cupid-club @storiesbyrhi @eris-rose-86 @micheledawn1975 @bl0ssomanddie @veemoon @sunshinepeachx @writinginthetwilight @curlyjoequinn @madaboutmunson @airen256 @idkitsem @em0220 @kookygranger @fanfics-i-find-here @the-unforgivenn @b3lladoonna @skrzydlak @comeonatmebruh @jamiecb66 @80s-addict @abellmunsonmovie @definitionwanderlust @amandahobblepot @daisy-munson @sheneedsrocknroll92 @maedesculpaeusoubi @munson-blurbs @wonderlanddreamer @daisy-munson @kellsck @eddiemunsonshandcuffs @babydollface1165

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missmarveledsblog · 3 months ago

Text

THE BABYSITTING TRAP (18+)

Summary: the gang made a plan to set steve up and Y/n hopper up, did they expect it to go so well ?

Warning : smut , soft dom steve , praise kink , daddy kink , hair pulling , spanking just steve unleashing his inner eddie to be fair . also everything nancy did and tension during season 4 we're just going to pretend it was us instead. steve being fluffier than his hair . this is 18+ minors not welcome

As far as failed night go , he was starting to think this was possibly could be the best night of his life. All he had to do was well tell her how he felt . which kinda was hard to do watching to move around her trailer wearing his t-shirt making them popcorn to watch a movie alone , together . the girl of his dreams , one that stood by everything , one who appreciated him . little thing she would do told him as much when they were hanging as group. she stop them teasing him about his failed love life , made sure eddie didn't eat his favourite snacks if he was running late , hell even having his favourite snacks there . how she would actually listen to what he had to say during the whole upside down situation . checking his wounds and making sure everything was healing or cleaned properly. how when he was pulled under water she was straight in after .. maybe shit he was idiot . the kids were right and it was right in front of him the whole time . he for once didn't think of his action , when she came over he helped her with placing the things down not before pulling her on to his lap and cuddling her close , god her giggles made his day, a melody he could listen to on repeat he was sure of it . " what has gotten into you harrington, not that i'm complaining " her smile , that damned smile could make anyone's day brighter . " something that took me way too long to do " he said proud his voice didn't squeak or waver . " and what would that be " god he had the usually confident teasing yet kind and caring y/n nervous. " taking that step , a step we both wanted , to finally stop kidding myself and finally go after the girl i want so bad it physically hurts sometimes , making sure no one can take her away " he smiled leaning up and capturing her lips with his . she wanted to punch herself the shit she used to say about how ridiculous movie kissing was bullshit . she could literally eat her words with how wrong she was . how his lips against hers felt like they were meant to be there . two puzzle pieces connect to reveal the whole picture. souls reconnecting after eternity searching for each other , nerves coming to life , fire work the lot .

Needing air they reluctantly pulled back , both shit eating grins on there faces . " about time harrington i was beginning to lose hope " she sighed dramatically head falling against his chest. " hey you could have said something you know " he defended finger lifting her chin to make her eyes align with his . " maybe i was scared " she bit her lip which wasn't a lie , she'd been the same telling the group they were seeing things . " well i was was terrified , i mean imagine losing this beautiful , kind , sweetheart , kinda an asshole sarcastic woman and one of my best friends because i told her i love her so much it drive me insane" he bared it all everything he was feeling over the years . " wait love " she sat up looking at him fully searching his eyes making sure it wasn't some stupid prank between him and the kids or eddie . " love like full blown burn the world down for you love " he repeated . what words failed , actions didn't she crashed her lips against his hungrily showing him how much she loved him , how he made her go on when she thought she couldn't , how he gave her the strength to fight when she felt weak . steve harrington held a place in her heart since the moment she met him , those puppy brown eyes had her locked , hook , line and sinker . she pulled the back of his neck in a bid to get closer , while her skin burned with a need only he could satisfy . a quick turn of positions and she was now straddling the man she dreamed about for so long . steve kissed back harder like she was his only source of oxygen while his hands land on her hip pulling her closer . like it was on instinct her hips rolled making the man under let out the sexiest almost primal moan she had ever heard . it was surreal she had steve the hair harrington moaning beneath her . " if we gonna do this baby girl then we are going to need that bed of yours " a husk almost whisper against her ear making her whimper. steve harrington made her give out the neediest whimper something she wasn't aware could happen. " take me to bed steve " she moaned feeling his strain against his jeans .

without be breaking the kiss , he lifted her effortlessly up off the chair , holding her steady as he kissed down her neck the t-shirt he love seeing on her was now in his way . she could feel her skin almost burn with desire pulling the shirt over her head showing the pink lace bra hiding underneath . " i definitely died and now in heaven" he teased kissed down her chest as he hand pushed her bedroom door open and kicking it closed . laying her softly on the bed as she pulled her shorts off . " eager are we " he smirked seeing the lust blown eyes , kiss bitten lips and it was all for him . " please steve fuck touch me , kiss me do something " she kneeled before him pulling him by his waist band . "yeah i died and this is heaven " he growled pushing her on her back while giving her almost a bruising kiss . licking , biting down her neck as he unclasped her bra sitting up to admire her , the dream he had were nothing in comparison to the real deal. " fuck you are so beautiful baby girl " his hand giving teasing pinches to her now hardened peaks . " oh you like that huh baby" he grin bowing his head . at first it teasing kitten licks , before a hiss broken moan came from her lips feeling him sucking and biting her nipples soft mouth making her core throb with a need . her panties drenched at the way he handled her in such as short space of time. she felt a fire burn deeper when his kissing began to continue down her body . even touch of his lips felt like her wildest dreams coming to life yet it still wasn't enough she needed more of him , all of him . " can i take these off" he asked a false coyness lilt to his deep husky voice. " fuck yes please i need you " she whimpered . " oh baby girl daddy's gonna take care of you , be a good girl and sit back while i eat this little pussy of yours, can you do that " fuck this was definitely a dream ." yes daddy i'll be good " . she hissed feeling his finger sliding up and down painful slow yet not even where she wanted . " all this for me such a good girl ..mmm you taste fucking heavenly i knew you would my sweet beautiful girl " he moaned tongue swirling tasting her slick . never did he think he would have her tasting so sweet on his tongue dancing on his taste buds it was safe to say he was already addicted. " mm fuck daddy " she cried feeling his tongue swirl around her puffy clit sending her head crashing against the pillow the pulling his hair and her back arching at the sensation . steve harrington ate pussy like it was a five course meal and his last meal all in one . she felt her coil tighten and windup so tight she almost screamed when it snapped making his actions faster lapping up her orgasim . " fuck i'm doing that daily fucking hell baby you taste so good " he groaned wiping her juices from his face.

" now i need to be in that pussy because i near damn came in my fucking boxers like a little virgin , can i fuck you my sweet girl " he smiled down seeing her blissed out face. she couldn't speak all her mind consisted of was him and him needing to be inside her . " too cock drunk speak that's ok daddy will take care of you " he growled teasing his cock through her folds coating him up ,underestimating his own control but slowly he began pushing in , feeling the softness of her walls it was like she was made for him and him alone . she couldn't help the pleading and begging that flew out of her mouth nor if someone told her this would happen she'd laugh in their face yet here she was doing just that . " FUCK" she cried as he began to thrust hitting spots in her body she never knew where there , her nails scraping down his back in a bid to pull him closer anyway she could but what surprised her most was when he pinned her hands above her head , fucking her into the mattress like it was his main goal in life turning her on more that she even thought was possible . babbles and moans filling the room along with the filthiness spewing from the mans mouth . " daddy fuck just like that " she cried wanting to grab him but hell even the restricted movement made it better somehow. he let go of her hands gliding them down pinching her nipples as he passed them before he began circling her clit . " we cum together baby i can feel it " he growled as she clenched around . " now " his thrust sloppy then she felt his cum filling her up painting ever part of her cervix as she herself clenched down milking ever part of it . " fuck that was...." she panted . " totally happening every chance we get .. i totally agree" he joked pulling out of her. " steve you know i love you too right .. so much it drives me insane " she leaned up lasily kissing him as he pulled her to his chest .

bonus :

" i'm not going in there but it's safe to say the plan worked and dustin is traumatise " robin nodded face in pure disgust. " who knew harrington was a kinky fuck " eddie smirked . " can we please just go " dustin whispered . " come on we can get the money of steve for therapy " robin led him toward eddies van . " HARRINGTON YOU ARE MY HERO " eddie yelled in . " munson come on before henderson barfs in your van " robin hissed.

#steve harrington x you #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fluff #joe keery #steve harrington x reader #stranger thing fanfic #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #robin buckley #eddie munson #dustin henderson #eleven #mike wheeler #nancy wheeler #jonathan byers #joyce byers #jim hopper

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love-toxin · 2 years ago

Note

Okay but miscommunication trope is only super yummy when there’s a happy ending. Liiiike reader thinking they’re getting kicked out of their relationship in the fruity four, they’re not wanted anymore, maybe even bring replaced (ie with someone like Chrissy), and so every little sarcastic quip or ignoring is seen by them as the others not loving them anymore 🥺. Until one day it all comes crumbling down and I can’t decide with is more angsty, you breaking down telling the others they don’t love you anymore, or you trying to be brave by announcing you’re leaving and the fours hearts just dropping as they try to scramble to convince you to stay and why?! Why are you leaving!?!?! Please! But of course, happy ending when everything’s properly explained and angel is reassured they could never all fall out of love with them ❤️

oh.......miscommunication trope, you say? >:)

(cws: fruity four, gn!angelface, jealousy, post-s4, PTSD, huge miscommunication trope, domestic arguing, you have a tattoo + kinda shitty parents + bad home life, chrissy's a jealousy target, breakups, jopper appearance, you're childhood friends with jonathan, mentions of grief, an almost car crash, very mild head trauma, crying, angst with a happy ending--stick with me angels!)

Sometimes you wish Chrissy would just disappear. Just--poof--and she'd be gone.

It's awful of you to think, but you can't help it. She's just always around, ever since her breakup with Jason she's been by the house much more frequently. You were happy for her at first, because you liked her up until then, and she's always been nice to you. Plus, your partners saved her life back when all that crazy stuff with the Upside Down happened, an event you weren't privy to until after the fact, when you started dating them.

But she's always on Eddie, always chatting him up, always giggling at his attempts to cheer her up, and now she's attracted the attention of your other partners too. They're good friends, and that's good, but....why can you not shake this feeling that there's something more going on? That the arm touches over his jacket and the inside jokes aren't as friendly and harmless as they want you to think?

It's worse than that, though. The honeymoon phase is clearly over--cause all four of them just brush off your concerns, insisting that you're overreacting or just not addressing them at all. So you haven't been piping up when a joke hurts your feelings, and you've bitten your tongue when one of them has to reschedule something you've planned, and it's gotten to the point that they've wondered why you're so quiet all of a sudden. Why would they care? You think with a sour feeling in the back of your throat, rubbing the tattoo on your arm that Eddie gave you and wondering if that was just practice for someone else. You're not oblivious to the way Chrissy is slowly being invited into gatherings and dinners with everyone.....just like you were in the beginning. And after an especially heated fight with both Eddie and Robin, the worst one you've ever gotten into in your entire relationship, he got so pissed off that he just told you not to come to the dinner they had planned, and they'd take someone who actually wanted to go.

That was a couple days ago, and the air in the house has been strained for nobody else but you. You're equally as hurt by Eddie yelling at you as Robin silently going along with it, even though you slammed your bedroom door in her face when she tried to follow you, and waited until Eddie tugged her along to leave before you allowed yourself to cry. You're sick of the feeling that none of them really care for you, that you've been demoted to a piece of furniture in the house, because they've clearly lost interest. And they don't care when your things start disappearing from the house, when the clothes in your closet start dwindling, leaving behind nothing but the ones they've bought for you--no, they'd rather moon over Chrissy fucking Cunningham, and you've just taken all you think your heart can handle.

"I'm going out!" You call into the house from the front door, without any of their four voices responding. When you sigh, turn, and step out to turn the corner of the house, though, you bump right into one of them.

"Oh! Hey, baby." Steve steps back and readjusts the paper bag full of groceries he's got his arm around, keys halfway tucked into his pocket. "Where you off to?"

"Um....just, uh, gonna go visit my parents." You weren't really expecting him to pry, with how in your head you've been lately. But you're not gonna relent just cause one of the people who promised he'd love you forever, yet somehow can't be fucked enough to find the time to even watch a movie with you, asked you a question that remotely shows an ounce of concern.

"Your parents?" He blinks, shifting again to rest the bag on his hip. "You sure?"

That tone is so irritating. You used to love that almost parental sense of duty, the desire of his to know every detail of every problem so he can solve it. But now, you just feel suffocated, even though you're more distant from all of them now than you've ever been. "What, I'm not allowed to see my family?"

"Hey, that's not what I said! hold on," He moves to put the groceries inside, but you wave him off and start walking past him, your tone clearly frustrated as you encourage him to just forget it. But, in a tizzy, Steve hurriedly sets the bag down on the ground and runs to catch up with you, his hand descending on your arm only to be swatted away--but not for long, when he grabs it again and grips it tighter as he turns you to face him. "Jesus, wait! What's the big fuss? Did I do something?"

"Let me go, Steve." You refuse to look him in the eyes, but you can't break his grip. Why can't he just let it go, so it's less painful? "I don't wanna drag this out."

"Drag what out?" Finally, it dawns on him as his eyes dart from the keys clenched in your hand to the windows of your car parked in the driveway, boxes clearly piled up in the trunk and in the backseat that none of them seemed to notice you moving.

".....So that's it? You're breaking up with us?" Steve says it with disbelief, like he's expecting you to say something or anything different. It's almost a little satisfying when you respond in the way he never could have expected, even though he should've by now. Even though it feels bitter on your tongue as soon as it comes up.

"You know what? Yes. That's exactly it." You finally wrench your arm out of his grip, and each of those words sting as they come out, but you won't cry, you refuse to cry in front of Steve today. "I'm leaving tonight, and I'm never coming back to Hawkins again."

"Why?"

"Ask your new girlfriend."

"Who? Wait--Chrissy?" He shakes his head, and what comes out next is more cruel than you wanted to be--but he just won't get it, it won't happen unless you make them realize why they don't want you anymore.

"Wow, the jock has a brain! Well done, Stevie." He grimaces at once, and god, you wish it would all stuff itself back into your throat.

"What the hell is wrong with you? Why are you being such a-"

"I know you're in love with her, Steve! For fuck's sakes, I'm not as stupid as you think I am!" You shout into the broken silence of the front lawn, wishing from the deepest reaches of your heart that this could all just be a horrible nightmare. Not reality. You don't want to be facing those big, soft eyes of Steve staring back at you in shock and pain, so you just turn your head and hope he doesn't see how much you're shaking.

"I get it, okay?! She's prettier than me, and nicer, and she doesn't have my fucking issues--and you guys clearly like her. It's like I don't even exist when she's around." You move aside to gesture towards your car, keys clutched in your hand so they won't fall or get taken from you, because you know Steve is reckless when he's upset. "None of you even noticed I was packing. Nancy fucking helped me put a box in yesterday."

Just then, both your heads turn at the sound of a car approaching--and just in time, you realize it's Eddie, his van's tires crunching the gravel of the long driveway as he pulls up to a stop beside your car. And lo and behold, sitting in the front seat with a smile on her face is her. Chrissy waves to you through the window, and as if your heart isn't in the process of shattering into shards that dig into your lungs, you raise your hand to acknowledge her back. You turn back to look at Steve one last time. Memorizing his face, because you know you won't ever see him again, as you take a few steps backward and hand him your parting words.

"Don't break her heart, Steve. It sucks."

With that, and with nothing but confliction reflecting back at you on his face, you turn on your heels and make your way around your car, bidding Eddie and Chrissy a stiff goodbye as they get out of the van and you get into your car. You reverse, roll back out of the driveway, and shift gears to start puttering down the road. And as soon as the house is out of your rearview mirror, that's when you feel those tears spilling out that won't stop until well after you pass the Leaving Hawkins sign on the side of the road.

A week into your new start in the city, you haven't gotten any more closure than when you left.

Living with your aunt isn't great, but it's something. The apartment is small, and you still haven't found a new job--you did call the Palace to inform them that you were quitting, though, to which you were greeted with nothing but indifference as you left a message on the answering machine. Figures that nobody in that town would miss me, you think, but you can't dwell on it for too long, because then you'll start thinking of them and it'll have you sobbing into your pillow again. Even worse is that you can't even fully express your pain to your family, your aunt, anybody--because they'll all think you're a freak, and it won't be surprising that your "relationship" ended so badly. You don't even really speak to your parents or your family in the first place, so you can't expect them to show you any sympathy. In fact, if they said anything to you, it would probably be that you should be glad it's over so you can live a normal life.

You don't want normal. You want your Robin talking your ear off about something gross for hours, you want Eddie burping into your ear and laughing, you want Nancy falling asleep on top of you and drooling on your chest, and Steve--you want Steve to come over while you're both on your breaks, talking with his mouth full and stealing bits of your lunch while kissing you in between each bite. You want that love back, you want it so badly it hurts, it hurts your heart every time something reminds you of them.

Maybe that's the worst part. That they don't want that anymore, they want someone that can share those memories with of that terrible tragedy, who knows how they feel and relates to those nightmares that wake them up in a cold sweat, who they can compare scars with and laugh with now that it's all over. They want someone scarred but beautiful, someone perfect, and you can never be that way no matter how hard you try. It explains why you haven't gotten a single phone call, or a letter, or anything since you left, and that treatment extends into your second week in Indy and right into the third. But it doesn't get any less painful, even when you get a job at a convenience store around the corner to busy yourself and help with the rent. Nor when you try going on a date or two, just to spend the whole dinner staring off into space as they talk and wondering what the people you loved are doing right now.

While you're behind the counter at work, your thoughts often drift back to that house by Maple Drive. The path around the back that leads into the woods, where Eddie would take you out for a smoke and to watch the stars for awhile--always with a walkie on hand, just in case, as Steve used to say. The pool that often sits empty, and sometimes you'd look out the window to see Nancy lifting up the cover on it to peek underneath, before breathing a visible sigh of relief and briskly walking away. Sometimes even in the middle of the night, creeping out the sliding glass door in her pajamas. And you remember that bed you often shared with Robin, who gets so clingy when she sleeps....and you wonder if she's sharing it with Chrissy now, if the cheerleader you always thought was such a nice girl is occupying the spot you thought would be yours forever.

Your brow furrows as you stock Camels on the shelf behind the counter, sliding each one into the perfect spot but feeling an itch of irritation when they don't line up. Is Eddie holding her right now? Is he coming up behind her every morning, and nuzzling his nose into her cheek as she stirs milk into her coffee? Is Nancy cuddling her and chatting her up about whatever project she has going on right now? Is Steve picking up her bag, and insisting she let her boyfriend hold the heavy stuff while she sits and looks pretty? They probably are. And they're probably much happier doing it with her, than they ever were with you.

Something thuds on the counter behind you, and you sigh without a sound as the gruff voice at your back asks for a pack while you're at it. Your fist squeezes around the box you've got in hand, and when you turn on your heels to toss it on to the tabletop and reach for the scanner, your eyes widen, and so do the ones on the moustached man that's towering in front of you with a petite woman at his side.

"Hop?"

You breathe out the name, trying to regain yourself as quick as you can--you're pretty used to keeping your tears back now, adjusted to having a straight face so nobody will pry or prod for your feelings. The former sheriff of your hometown that you used to duck out of sight from, laughing and hiding your goods with Eddie right behind you, is standing at your counter with a shocked expression, along with Joyce Byers who seems just as surprised to see you here. And with little else you can think of, you clear your throat and try to crack that tense silence.

"Uh...so, you two on vacation, or someth-"

"Are you fucking with me?"

Hopper cuts you off, hands bracing the edge of the counter as he looks you up and down, the two glass bottles of Coke getting shoved aside by him to fall over and roll across the counter as he reaches across the barrier to grab your arm. Without much struggle, because you have no clue what's going on, you allow the older man to yank your wrist up and turn it over, Joyce hurriedly pushing up your sleeve with her gaze pinned to your skin, like she's desperately searching for something that has nothing to do with your confused questions spilling out on top of each other.

When they've finally uncovered that patch of skin they were looking for, the two of them share a look between themselves, before finally looking back up to acknowledge how baffled and worried you are. It isn't until you scan down to see what they found that the pieces start coming together, the black ink of the tattoo Eddie gave you when you first started dating peeking out at you. It's just a thin, mid-sized black circle on your inner forearm, with five points reaching outward like a sun. But the detail of it has always enchanted you, Eddie's diligent stare as he inked it into your skin burned into your mind. You've considered getting it covered since then, but....you can't bring yourself to do it yet.

"I'll call it in," Hopper says cryptically, stepping back and turning away to bring out the walkie from his belt and start mumbling into it. In the meanwhile, you're left with his partner, and the lady you've practically grown up with since she babysat you a long time ago. You often forget that time, when you and Jonathan would run around her backyard with sticks and rocks to try and build your own castle, while his baby brother watched from the stairs and giggled at your antics. You were so young, and so carefree, it seemed....but it was a happy time, one of few before you met those four.

"Honey, you're alright?" Joyce's voice quivers, anxious for the answer, but you nod as soon as her question registers because you hate to see her like this.

"Ye...Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" She circles round the counter, coming right in for a hug that you return without question. The squeeze is tight, like a mother's embrace upon returning home from a long time away, and you instantly feel a pinch of guilt for neglecting to include her in your plan to leave Hawkins. Now that you think about it, you really didn't tell anyone, except....

"-Kid, relax, we're coming there. No, do not get in your car, sit your ass down so you're there when we get back! Jesus," Hop gets more animated as he talks over the channel, and your hug splits as your head swivels towards the sound of a familiar voice through the static. Steve.

"Are they there? Let me talk to them! Please, Hopper, let me hear their voice-"

It's so frantic, desperate. The first time you've heard one of their voices in what feels like your whole life, and you have to struggle not to cave, bringing a shaky hand up over your mouth as you whisper a "What's going on?" to Joyce. And with your ears perked up, you can distinguish the background noise in the transmission--there are three other distinct voices, talking just as fearfully amongst themselves as they also try to get through to Hop. Nancy, Eddie, and Robin, each with as much indignation as Steve, who must be holding the other walkie.

"We're coming down right now, kid. Just try to calm down in the meantime." With that, Hopper shuts the antenna and gestures for you to follow him, the sweet woman at your side holding your arm as you obey him, like she's afraid you'll vanish if she lets go. You're led out of the light of the fluorescent bulbs overhead to Hop's truck parked by the curb--you at least have the sense to fumble with your keys and lock the front door before you leave--you let him open the door and sit yourself in the backseat, and shakily buckle yourself in as they get in front with promises to explain everything. Still struck dumb with shock to the point that it hasn't really registered that you just left work in the middle of your shift.

But you get an idea of what's happening when you turn your head, and catch a glimpse of a scattered stack of papers on the seat beside you out of your peripheral. Tentatively, as Hop starts up the ignition, your fingers brush over one of the nearest pages--and when you lift it up to survey it closer, the two of them notice you and share another sobering look between them. What's staring back at you is undeniably, unmistakably, a missing person's ad. And the picture is one you recognize immediately, because it's yours. Your photo, details of your last sighting, a description of your tattoo, a list of things for people to look out for....

"You really worried everyone back home, kid."

Suddenly, a bitterness rises up inside you, and the paper crumples slightly as you realize what's really happening. "I'm fine. I just...decided to get out of Hawkins."

"Yeah, well, maybe tell your roommates that, first."

"Hop-"

"They didn't care! I told Steve anyways, so what's the big fucking deal?" Even though Joyce flinches at you raising your voice, you can't be quiet right now. Anger is something you've been almost too numb to endure these last few weeks, but now you could just put your fist straight through Hopper's window--they put up such a fuss for what? To drag you back to that shitty inbred town in the sticks, just to make sure they didn't want you in the first place? It's bullshit.

"They sure as shit care!" Hop shouts right back, casting his signature scowl over his shoulder as he drives through semi-empty streets. It's so late, and so dark, it's unlikely there'll even be many pedestrians. "Do you realize how many times Nancy Wheeler has shown up on my doorstep, begging me to go on another search and rescue for you?! They're worried sick!"

"Why?"

There's silence for awhile, very tense silence, before you repeat your question that says much more than just that one word.

"....Because they thought you were gone. They thought you were there."

There. That's what he means--the other world, the Upside Down. The place you've never seen, only heard horror stories about and snatches of descriptions of when you comforted one of them during a night terror. The missing people, the murders, the experiments....they're all so hard to believe, but then again, you can't deny Will's remarkable return from the dead or Barbara Holland's coverup death, both of which you've been close enough to to know that there's no way they're just elaborate lies.

So they were worried you had died. That your disappearance wasn't of your own volition. They're going to be in for an unfortunate surprise, but by the tightly shut locks on Hopper's truck doors, you know there's no getting out of this until he brings you right back to drop you in their laps.

"We came here to look for you. Your mom finally told us you had an aunt in the city." Joyce offers you another piece to the puzzle, but your mind is still stuck on the fact that your ex-partners seemed so desperate over the walkie. They....they wouldn't want you to die, but that doesn't mean they want you. Figures that your parents would make it more difficult for two of the only people that even remotely have any concern for you too, they're probably profiting off all that glorious attention of having a missing child.

"I have a life here, now. I don't want to go back." Lies. You know it's all lies.

"Listen, kid, whatever happened with your friends, I promise it's not worth throwing in the towel. You've gotta see things through." Clearly it's not worth an argument, you'd rather save your energy at this point. You're gonna need plenty to face that hard conversation you know is coming, when you're gonna have to confirm to them directly that you're moving on. No more running away, or hiding from the problem. You have to face it.

"You don't know anything about me, or them."

The already long drive drags on even longer in the silence that follows, and you make a mental note to call your aunt when they get you back to Hawkins, so she doesn't freak out when she comes home to an empty apartment. You can imagine your manager's gonna call and cuss you out before firing you for leaving the store unattended, too, and you groan and let your head hit the seat behind you. Now you're gonna have to find another job, gonna have to explain to your aunt what you did....or maybe she won't even notice your absence, not until someone makes a fuss about it.

Your mind is left racing with so many thoughts and worries that the scenery passes by without note, the moon barely shining any light on the landscape, like it's all one huge plain with little dots for buildings and trees. Like one big hellscape, but it's numb and frozen over with nothing left but a mocking echo of the world that's no longer here. You don't even really recognize your surroundings until a couple hours have passed, and the Welcome To Hawkins sign zips by and has you sitting up in your seat. Just as you pass it, though, you think you see the glimmer of another set of headlights, a rarity on these quiet streets--and then your whole world shifts violently.

"Shit!" Hop curses as he swerves suddenly, and Joyce shrieks as you all nearly careen off the road and into the ditch, your head cracking against the window and bouncing off for you to clutch at it in pain. A groan is all you can get out when he calls back to you, the dizzy feeling making you a little sick, but as you lift your head and the truck rolls to a stop, you spot the culprit of that downright suicidal speed driving that nearly caused a head-on collision.

Your heart is pierced with a deep chill immediately. You'd recognize that van anywhere, and that curly mane of hair as the driver stumbles out his door even moreso. He's not hurt, just dazed--and for the moment, your brain doesn't immediately go to the question of why you should even care. As he stands there in the road, in the dark, Eddie's form is lit up by the headlights still shining without a flicker, but he doesn't flinch even when it must be glaring directly into his eyes, just holds a hand up to block it out. And when they meet yours as you lean over the console to see him, he doesn't wait a second, hurrying around the passenger's side of the truck to fumble for the handle of your door. With a click, and the light above you switching on as a beeping starts to emit from the vehicle, Eddie's suddenly cramming himself into the backseat with you--and there's tears already wetting his cheeks as he grabs you in a hug, gasping in a shaky lungful of breath like he's shocked he's really touching you. Crying and mumbling into your hair, Eddie buckles when you squeeze him back, falling victim to that desire in the deepest part of your soul that just wanted to hold him again.

"I didn't mean it, I didn't mean it baby, I didn't--everything I said, I swear, I was being such a fucking moron-" He starts babbling from nowhere, and his voice itself is a comfort, having not heard it next to your ear for so long that it aches now.

"Eddie-"

"You're mine, okay?! You're my everything!" He cries, burying his face even deeper into your neck and inhaling whatever scent he can get. You're stunned into staying limp, letting his hands grab and squeeze at you wherever they land--his curly hair tickles your cheek and sticks to it, and that sensation alone drags tears up to the surface, only allowing them to spill when you hear him whispering those croaked pleas of "I love you, I love you, I love you" until you're crying right along with him. It's been so long since you heard it, you'd started believing it was never really true.

It takes minutes that feel like hours for you to both calm down enough to look at each other, your face cradled in Eddie's rough hands as he sniffles and murmurs a "You're so beautiful" so innocently sincere, that it instantly makes you wish you had never left. He smiles, and the world that seems so dark grows a little brighter around you. You're not even privy to the looks Joyce and Hopper are giving each other in the front seat, clearly a little surprised at the passion you two share that nobody else has ever seen. But they know. And when Eddie starts pulling you out of your seat with the promise to take you back, Hop only reminds him to drive safely before he allows you two to shut the truck's door and circle round the vehicle with Eddie's arm clinging to your waist. The air hits you, cool and dry, just like it always is in Hawkins. And when he opens your door for you and waits for you to clamber in, before getting in on the other side and fumbling contently with his keys, you're not sure you really know what to expect. He briefly elaborates that he'd gotten worried, and that he's just glad he spotted Hop's truck before he'd sped all the way out of Hawkins and missed you--but it doesn't last, because soon he's grabbing your thigh and sighing out a breath of relief.

"We'll talk about everything when we get home. For now, I just want to hold you." Eddie offers his hand to you, giving it a grateful squeeze when you slip yours into it and interlace your fingers together.

They'll all hate me for real, this time.

That's exactly how the drive goes, Eddie's shoulders relaxed even as he steers with one hand, and navigates while stealing glances over at you with relief written all over his face, and brings your hands up to kiss your knuckles every so often. But he's just one. The other three....your heart sinks as you run over that last conversation you had with Steve, the way you'd ignored Robin completely, and how you pretended everything was absolutely fine with Nancy up until the moment you left. And it somehow dawns on you only then--they thought you were gone, that you had been taken to the Upside Down, and your heart sinks as you watch the trees pass by in clusters while that dread creeps closer down the road that's so familiar.

Not even the comforting warmth of Eddie's hand could drive that thought out of your mind, even less so when he turns and you hit that patch of gravel that leads up the driveway. He'll stop soon, and you'll be facing the music....and when Eddie shifts into park, you sort of float from your seat to the walkway where you threw your feelings back into Steve's face, and up towards the front door that Eddie opens for you before you cross the threshold into the house. It does feel like home, and you don't want to lose it right on the welcome mat, so you blink away any tears that threaten to spill before you quietly follow him into the living room.

Three heads turn to look your way, too inundated in conversation around the coffee table to hear the door opening, but that stops the second their eyes land on you. Steve and Robin are the ones sitting closest to where you stand, but Nancy's the one that makes her way to you first, her lower lip already quivering enough to break into a sob as she crosses the patch of carpet to throw her arms around you. She's strong enough to grip you tight enough to hurt, but too weak to keep herself on her feet, and you end up sinking to the floor with her as your name floods out of her lungs on repeat, getting louder and louder and louder until she's wailing. You could swear the walls rattle with the volume she cries at, completely coming apart in your arms like you've never seen her do before.

"Don't you ever do that to me again!" She shouts, yet her voice is like a child's, wobbling and whiny and so miserably pitiful that it pains you even to listen to it, especially when she's clutching you so close to her body--so afraid that you won't be there when she pulls away, so she refuses to. You don't have any right to cry when she's so distraught, but with your head over her shoulder, the other two watch your lips curve downwards and your eyes screw shut into a flood of tears that won't stop easily.

"I'm sorry, Nancy. I'm okay." You whimper, burying your face into her curls until your lips brush her jawline, and she shudders into each gentle, praiseworthy kiss that you press there. Up until her sobs subside, and she breaths a sigh of relief that you can feel from her chest against yours, each one sinking and rising into each other as you breathe along with her. "I thought you didn't want me anymore."

She shakes her head, and finally pulls herself back to look at you, a fresh wave of tears streaming down her cheeks when she gets a good look at you. Nancy touches your face, thumbs away your own tears--and you know she's not just looking at you, but the girl she lost so long ago, whose smile she sees in yours on those days she misses her the most dearly. "I never wanted you more when I thought you weren't coming back," She whispers back. "How could I not want you? I love you."

The kiss she lays upon your lips is breathtaking, shaking and sweet and just....everything. Everything you missed and craved like air and water and life.

You're already halfway into her embrace when she laughs out that half-hearted joke, walking back with you a couple steps when you throw yourself into it. And she squeezes you so tight, so hard, the kisses a flurry of needy, fluttering touches all over your face until she somehow finds your lips--and when she does, she makes that last one a kiss you won't shake off for days, the feeling tingling your lips even when she pulls away. Still rubbing that spot on your back that she knows is sensitive, Robin grips you in an even harder hug that nearly cracks your spine, and whispers into your ear: "I'm so happy you're here with me." before she kisses you one last time, last one, she swears, fingers crossed behind your back. But then, she takes notice to the man standing just a foot away--and she lets you go to turn you around, her fingertips grazing your arms as you finally face him.

"Yeah, she, uh....she cried, like, every night," Even as Robin says it and breaks the quiet, she herself is rubbing tears from her cheeks, trying to keep that smile going as you stand and Nancy loosens her hold. She moves aside for Eddie to lay his hands on her shoulders from behind, and keep her steady on her feet. "So did Steve. I told you he cries when we watch Princess Bride!"

"I-I....I didn't mean it, Steve. I never...I've never thought you were dumb." Your voice comes out as a whimper, fingers fiddling with each other as you endure that big, brown, wide-eyed stare.

"I know." He breathes, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. He wants to move, he's antsy, but he won't take another step. "I know, baby."

"Can I hug you?" Steve just nods, but his lip quivers and his features gain that pathetic, sad puppy look, because he was hoping and praying you would say those very words. Your heart soars as he meets your step forward and flings his strong arms tight around your body, crushing you with his huge stature but never loosening up. He instantly brings his hand up to cradle your head against his chest, kissing the crown of it with so much firmness that you know he's reaffirming you're really standing in front of him again.

"I shouldn't have let you leave. I should've slashed your damn tires." He chuckles along with you at the lighthearted crack at breaking the tension, until he chokes up again into a sob. "Nobody could ever replace you. And I swear, I'll never break your heart again."

Steve holds you for a long time, squeezing you and kissing you and brushing strands of hair from your eyes to just look at you, surveying the face of the love he feared he'd never get to cherish again. It's a long time coming, and when he's done, there are three other warm bodies in the room that need attention from the sweet thing they've been killing themselves over these last few weeks.

From there, they catch you up with what had happened in your absence. Steve had walked off to clear his head after you left, and hadn't returned until late in the day--burst through the front door during an unusually quiet dinner and sent them all into a panic, when he realized you really had left and you weren't coming back. The four of them had jumped into action to split up and look for you, Nancy contacted your parents and other family while Steve and Robin tried to find some hint of your whereabouts in the house, cracking open your drawers and notes and realizing how much of your stuff was missing. Meanwhile, Eddie had driven in circles round Hawkins and the outer city limits, trying to find any trace of your car in the dark with the help of passing streetlights.

When those attempts had failed after stretching out into the next day to mid-afternoon, and with your very unhelpful parents insisting they had no idea where you could've gone, that's when your partners had started printing out missing person's flyers and put in an official report with the sheriff's office. And, seemingly having forgotten that you were really the only one who ever checked the voicemail at work, your message tendering your resignation had been errantly erased by your manager--worrying them even further when they questioned him, because if you were really planning on moving away like you said, how could you not tell your employer? It wasn't like you. Their fears had only gotten stronger from there.

The worst had yet to come, though. Because when your car had been found on the side of the road way out in the middle of nowhere, miles and miles away from Hawkins and completely destroyed, the four of them had reached the point of no return. The plates had been torn off, but it was your exact make and model of car, and what were they supposed to believe? That it was just coincidence? That's what Hopper had tried to reassure them with, tried to insist that plenty of cars get found gutted out in the bush, but they couldn't be convinced that it was just some freak happenstance and delude themselves to think that you were fine and dandy somewhere else. The same thing had happened to Max's stepbrother, and they all knew how that had ended.

So started the search parties, the nights spent staying up and studying maps by lamplight, the microwave meals in place of home cooking and sleeping in shifts by the phone, waiting and hoping for some kind of clue to your whereabouts to appear. Finding you had become more important than eating, proper sleep, showering, or attention paid to anything aside from looking towards the horizon to see if you would magically walk back into their lives.

And all that time, you had believed nothing but that they couldn't care less where you were, or what you were doing. When in reality, they could think of nothing but you. That was what had led Eddie to nearly crash into you as you re-entered Hawkins, having been pacing the living room for those long hours after Hop's call until he just couldn't take it anymore--despite the other three trying to stop him, he had dashed out to his van and peeled out of the driveway like a lunatic, just for the slightest chance that he might be there when you needed help. It was so stupid, so reckless, and you'll remember that moment he came rushing around the side of the truck to get to you forever.

Despite them reassuring you about Chrissy, too, when the tears have dried--promising you she's nothing but a friend, and they would have no problems limiting her interaction with all of you from now on--you wave it away, smiling off your stupidity and letting them know that it's fine. You were just being dumb, acting crazy, but you're fine now. And Eddie's eyes narrow at that.

"You're not crazy." He murmurs absentmindedly, and says nothing more until he can slip away from your reunion, and reach the phone in the kitchen. While you're busy dealing with your other partner's crippling absence of affection, he taps his blunt nails into each button, numbly dialing the number he's memorized until the ringing starts and stops.

"Hey, Chris. Angel's back home."

"Oh, that's great! Oh...Eddie, I'm so happy for you. You must be relieved-"

"Yeah. Yeah, I am. Listen, no hard feelings, but....you're my friend, so I'm just gonna be straight. Don't come by the house anymore."

"I--what? Really? I....Eddie, I'm sorry, if I did something to upset you-"

"No, no, nothing you did. Well, not really. But I know how you feel, Chris, and I can't really ignore it anymore." He swallows deeply, and sucks on his teeth as he tries to think of some better way to say it. "I don't want to hurt your feelings, but I don't feel the same. I never have, and I'm sorry if I made you feel like that might change."

"......So that's it?"

"That's it. We can still be friends, but we need space for awhile first, and I'm not gonna ignore you flirting with me anymore. I'm in love and it's not gonna change. Sorry."

"Can we at least talk about it, Eddie? Please? I'd rather talk this out in person."

"No. Bye, Chrissy."

He thuds the phone back on the receiver just a little too hard, and brings his hand up to rub at his neck and try and get the ache out. That didn't feel good, having to confront one of his very few friends with a truth he just wanted to ignore--but the sick feeling he has now can't even compare to how he felt when you were away, and it's an easy decision to make in that regard. He'd take you over her any day. It's a bit of a guilty feeling, but he knows it's the truth even if it hurts Chrissy's feelings, and he's happy even so.

"....Yeah, I missed you real bad, sweetheart. Don't you ever think I wouldn't....or else you are crazy."

"Eddie?" You call out from the living room, and following that sweet voice to its source, he feels himself light up at the sight of you settled back into the couch. Legs tucked up in Robin's lap, halfway into Steve and Nancy's, looking so comfortable and cute as you look up at him. You're where you belong. He's so distracted by the glee and relief of having you home, he didn't even realize how quiet it had been between you all until he came right back from his task. You say nothing more, just hold your arms out to him--and when he gets close enough, you capture him with those pretty eyes of yours, and melt away any ill feeling as you pull him into your chest.