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famwhy · 1 year ago

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Right Way Up (04)

Stranger Things

Yandere! Steve Harrington X F!Reader, Yandere! Eddie Munson X F!Reader, Yandere! Billy Hargrove X F!Reader

Synopsis: You always hated when your favourite characters died in shows or movies; always longed to have the opportunity to save them. So when you're transported into one of your favourite shows of all time, what else are you supposed to do besides save your beloved characters?

Warnings: Threat/violence, Gore, Mentions of sexual content (implicit), Death, Manipulation, Depictions of toxic relationships, Drugs and alcohol abuse

Note: omg guys, I came across an account that said their current favourite fic was this one in their bio. I'm acc so happy, tysm

prev part. masterlist.

04. bring unto me peculiarity

trait: e.m.

YOU blinked, jaw hung open and muscles tense as her grip around you tightened—constricting your movements and clogging your airways. Though, breathing was the least of your concerns when it came to tight hugs at the moment, not when you had your dumb arm to worry about.

As if on cue, a sharp rupture of pain spiked your side, and you winced, grunting a little before sucking a breath in through your teeth and asking—albeit with scrunched up features—"...sorry, do I know you?"

"Wha—?" She pulled away at that, and the look she gave you—oh, the look she gave you—it was full of heartbreak, emotional turmoil spanning as far as the eye could see. "It's me, baby, it's mommy."

"Mom?"

You thought you didn't have a mother.

"Yes, baby, it's me. It's mom." She smiled, pupils shaking in—and you could be wrong about this, but—what seemed like... desperation?

What's up with that?

And, if this lady really was your mother, where the hell had she been all these days?

"Y/N? The hell is taking so—?"

A strange sense of déjà vu drenched your form as your eyes followed the new voice, landing on the slightly-parted lips and wide, almost-disbelieving eyes of your second oldest brother—hands still covered by the huge, red gloves he often adorned.

Then, his features scrunched up—though, it wasn't like yours had just done—no—his were harder, more purposeful; his were clouded in a storm consisting purely of loathing so unadulterated, you had half a mind to think he was staring—no, glaring—into the form of his worst enemy.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" And as he spoke, venom spat out of his mouth, launching itself straight onto the woman still loosely holding you and causing her face to scrunch up in a pained wince. "Shouldn't you be on one of your fucking five-year-long business trips?"

"Oh honey—"

His glare grew sharper. "Don't call me that."

"I..." she trailed off and you blinked, helpless to the scene that was playing out right before your very eyes.

"I don't know what the fuck got into you but you can't just waltz in here like..." his face scrunched up, brows furrowing as he paused the sentence for one... two... three seconds before continuing, spite still as prevalent as ever, "like you belong!"

You watched as her face dropped even further at that—the barely visible bags under her eyes looking about ten times worse than they did before.

Now, you had no idea what type of past you were meant to have shared with this woman—how horrible it truly was—but surely someone who greeted you so warmly at the door couldn't be too bad?

So with that thought in mind, you narrowed your eyes by the slightest amount—a little... hesitantly—before lightly scolding, "Hey. Curt, maybe tone it down a little?"

His attention averted from the woman—hateful, dark eyes that were once throwing daggers her way, now unapologetically directed towards you. "'Tone it down a little'? Do you hear yourself, Y/N? That woman missed almost every single birthday of yours! Every. Single. One!"

Alright, so, you didn't usually consider yourself to be much of a coward, but being the recipient of that deadly gaze was enough to make you yield just this once—both of your hands flying up to rest in the air beside your head. Hey, you tried, he just didn't listen.

Besides, you were only a mere bystander in this squabble anyway. Sure, you felt bad for the woman, but not bad enough to get socked in the face by a boxer for her.

...okay, now you just sounded like a jerk.

Feeling your heart tighten slightly, you shook your head to rid yourself of those awful, intrusive thoughts and parted your lips in an attempt to redeem yourself.

Keyword: attempt.

Before even a word could breeze past your tongue, another voice entered the fray—one a lot more grounded than any other you'd heard since you opened the door—"What the hell is with all this—? Mom?"

You tilted your head just enough to catch the approaching form of your oldest brother—his figure growing with each step he took—and the closer he grew, the clearer his facial expression became.

His brows were furrowed, but instead of the hostile way that Curt's were, his were more... well, confused?—shocked, perhaps?—or maybe a better word for it would be baffled? Either/or, he didn't look like he was terribly upset with her appearance, further grinding your theory of her not being that bad into reality.

"What are you doing here?"

"I just thought that—" the sudden lack of warmth around your arms had your head whipping back, eyes watching as the same fingers that were once wrapped around you, now awkwardly rubbed the woman's other limb, "—maybe it was about time I spent some quality time with you all?"

Before you could even register what she had said—Curt's voice hastily cut through the air; a tone of finality you hadn't heard him use before laced so deeply within it, "Too little too late."

Though—if you were being entirely honest—you were starting to tune it out—all of it: the apologies, the confusion, the arguing; all of it. A familiar sense of surrealism washed over you as you witnessed the events unfold; as you watched their mouths move soundlessly—your new brothers seemingly arguing with a woman who held the looks of your mother but seemed to act nothing like her.

It was weird, strange. You weren't even sure how to feel. From the looks of things, this... mother of yours seemed to not be around much—and one of your brothers hated her for it, while the other merely seemed to... well, you weren't entirely sure what he felt yet. Hell, you didn't even know what you were supposed to feel.

Should you be sad? Mad? Indifferent?—'cause that's what you felt right now. This world wasn't even meant to have you in it at all. There was no character named Y/N who looked exactly like you and had two older brothers with a seemingly neglectful mother and who-knows-what-happened-to-him father.

Even if you wanted to copy the mannerisms of the Y/N belonging to this world, you couldn't because there wasn't one. She didn't exist.

How the hell were you supposed to react?

You could've asked yourself that question a billion more times, but the sudden rush of air that hit your face crashed you straight back to reality—just in time too, for not even moments later, an abrupt 'slam!' echoed from behind.

Confused, your gaze found Cain's.

"Give him some time. He's probably off to go fuck some chick and get his mind off this."

Slowly, you nodded.

Then, you heard it; the sound of her voice continuing to speak behind you with that broken lilt—the one she just couldn't seem to drop—laced so deeply in her tone.

"I'm so sorry, babies." The woman—your mother—reached out, and you felt her fingers graze you again, "I'm so so sorry."

"It's... alright, mom," Cain responded before you could—voice seeming almost... hesitant, "It's all good."

There was no chatter after that—not a single sound escaped their lips. That was your cue; your cue to either condemn her down to hell or forgive her for this supposed neglect you weren't even around to experience.

"Sweetie..." her voice was shaky—desperate, no doubt, and seeking the forgiveness of a daughter that didn't even belong to her, "please..."

"Uh..." you weren't sure what it was, but something was holding you back from saying anything; from doing something—

—and it looked like she noticed that too.

"It's okay, I understand..."

She seems a bit... what's the word?

With hands that were once hopefully clasped around one another, now pitifully falling by her sides, and eyes that seemed to droop just a tad bit more despite the small, ingenuine quirk of her lips upwards; her whole demeanour almost screamed...

Ah. Forlorn.

Your chest felt heavy at the sight—tight and weighed down. Some type of... guilt was it? ebbed away at you. Though you didn't know why—it wasn't like she was your real mother, after all. In fact, she was a complete stranger to you; someone who you wouldn't even bother sondering over if you passed her by on the street.

How strange.

"Y/N," the soft call of your name caused your ears to perk up, and you turned to your remaining brother, "C'mon, you're due for a change."

"A change?" You tilted your head, eyes still not all there—at least, not until—

"Your bandages."

"Ohhh."

To be honest, you completely forgot about that.

"Bandages?" From the looks of things, though, your mother couldn't pass it off as easily as you. "For what?"

Immediately, Cain's eyes locked with yours—his hues swirling with a query you were able to decipher pretty easily: 'Should we tell her?'

Should you? Well, the fact that he had to ask that question in the first place was concerning, to say the least. Maybe you'd hold off on telling her for now. Just for now. Nothing permanent.

Mind made up and eyes stopping at nothing to avoid her own, you told your mother, "Don't worry about it, it's all good."

Her lips turned down, shoulders sagging and gaze falling to the floor like a glossy river over the edge of a cliff; swift and hopeless to anything wishing to stop it.

She looked so... so...

Defeated.

"Ah, okay."

You wished you could say you forgave her—you desperately prayed to—but how could you when the words refused to come out of your throat?—when they relentlessly fought with your tongue to the point they immobilised it and unfairly rendered you incapable of speech?

You could have stood there hopelessly staring at her for hours if you so wished, but the small tug on your wrist averted your gaze, and you found yourself staring at the loosened expression of your other kin.

"Let's get you wrapped up, Y/N."

You nodded.

He then took to guiding you towards the kitchen, and the whole way there, your gaze didn't leave your mother's form—watching as her figure grew smaller with each step—shorter with each breath—before completely disappearing around the corner.

"Don't feel bad."

Your ears perked up—head turning to face your older brother.

"'Bout mom," he continued, not particularly looking your way, "She hasn't been around for most of our lives, you're allowed to not forgive her."

"What about you?" You asked, "You didn't sound too sure of forgiving her yourself."

He paused.

"I..."—a rough 'ahem'—"I'm trying to."

You tilted your head. "Trying to?"

"It's..." He trailed off and furrowed his brows, as if searching for something in his mind, before continuing, "hard. Really hard. To look after people—I mean. Especially on your own."

It was your turn to furrow your brows, lips tugging down as you took in his words and really—well—thought for a good second.

It was clear that he was trying his best to be empathetic; to sympathise with her situation. And who better than him? You didn't have to be a genius to decipher the fact that he had been the one to take care of both you and Curt for pretty much the majority of your—supposed—'life'. He probably had to grow up a lot faster than 'you' would've. In that case, he could relate to her.

But, on the other hand...

"It's not fair."

"Huh?" He turned your way, blinking twice.

"To compare yourself to her," you continued, lips still curved down, "You're completely different. While she never bothered to be around, you did. You learned how to cook, clean—hell, maybe even change diapers—"

"Maybe even? You were a little shit and you know it—"

Shit, he changed your diapers too? You were just trying to be dramatic but damn.

"Okay—" that came off a little more exasperated than you wanted and clearly he could sense it too, judging by the way he snickered right after, little shit, "—my point is, you were there and she wasn't. And it's not even your responsibility to take care of us. I get that she has her supposed 'five-year-long' business trips, but she could've made time for us. You're her son too, you're allowed to be mad that she wasn't there."

He stayed silent for a few moments, and you found your hands naturally drifting down—fingers digging into your skirt harshly; anxiously. Sweat gathered on your brow and anticipation ate at your insides, chipping away at your organs and clogging your brain with worry; worry for the elongated silence that greeted your words.

Had you said something wrong? Was he going to snap at you?

Goodbye, cruel world, remember—

A chuckle.

Your ears perked up and your eyes widened in disbelief.

"And here I thought I was the one meant to be cheering you up." His shoulders bounced in a pattern you could only describe as uneven, one hand rising up to swipe at his eye.

The sight caused your muscles to loosen up, fingers losing their grip on your skirt and eyes crinkling fondly as you watched him reach up into an open cupboard—arm disappearing within the confines before reappearing not long after with a red, rectangular bag.

The sound of a zip was the next thing you heard—accompanied by his voice as he said, "Alright, let's get you all patched up, worm."

You scrunched up your nose. "Worm?"

"Yeah, annoying little things, aren't they?"

"Rude."

Another snicker had your lips quirking up again, a swirl of warmth gathering in your chest; a hint of fondness and pride. Was this how sibling banter felt?

It's... nice.

Before you could enjoy the moment any longer though, your brain just had to ruin it, giving you a thought that had your ears falling again—stomach dropping into a bottomless pit within the confines of your body.

"Is..." you started, and his ears perked up from behind the arm that slowly tugged at the grey gauze, "Is Curt gonna be okay?"

A scoff. "Yeah. You know him, he'll be super bitchy about it but he'll come running back tomorrow morning so don't worry."

You smiled. "So long as he's—ow! Watch it!"

"My bad."

"You did that on purpose."

"I did that on purpose."

"Asshole."

"D'aww, is wittle sissy's feewings hurt?"

"Shut up, you dick!"

You took it back, sibling banter was so not nice.

But, at least it was somewhat fun—unlike what happened next.

"Sweeties?" You tensed, head turning as Cain backed away—the warmth of his hand leaving you with new, pure white gauze around your arm—and turned with you. "I'm gonna head out for the night and go meet up with some old friends. Are you two going to be okay?"

Maybe if you were actually part of this world, you would've said something petty like 'nothing new there' or 'you've already not been around for most of my life, what's one more night?'—but, you weren't, and so settled with a good old fashioned—"We'll be fine,"—instead.

She was out the door in no less than two seconds.

It quickly grew dark following that—night approaching faster than you could register—and there had yet to be any sign of Curt. Guess Cain was right when he said the younger of the two would be back in the morning.

Speaking of Cain, he had some last minute call from a client regarding car troubles. Apparently, they were stranded and in dire need of assistance, so Cain was required to go to them in order to help—though, he was quite reluctant as he, no doubt, voiced to you.

"Oh my god, Cain, I'll be fine." You rolled your eyes.

"Are you sure? This street isn't exactly known for safety," he responded, expression scrunched up with what you recognised as pure worry.

"God, you're just like Steve. Nothing will happen, don't worry."

When the corner of his lips quirked up in response to your words, you felt something akin to dread claw at your innards. "Oh, I'm just like Steve, am I?"

"Shut up, he has a girlfriend," you were saying that more to yourself than him, to be honest.

"Yeah, that he drops anytime you're within two feet of him."

"I swear to god, Cain."

He snickered.

"Just go! I know you're doing this just to stall, go find that poor person stranded by the phone booth!"

"Okay, okay, I'm going."

And as his shoulders kept jerking up and down, your hand found purchase against the bumpy texture of your wooden door before pushing at full force; a 'slam!' echoing not long after.

"Stupid piece of shit," you grumbled, though, not genuinely.

...okay, maybe just a little genuinely actually, 'cause now he put the stupid thought in your head; the stupid thought of Steve Harrington actually liking you.

Preposterous.

He probably just thought of you as a really close friend—he supposedly knew you since childhood, after all, of course he would value you over Nancy sometimes.

But... theoretically, say he felt more, what would it be like?

Would he hold your hand and pull you in close? Whisper sweet nothings into your ear as you lay against him in the dead of night?—sinking into his warmth and stuffing your face in his sturdy chest. Would his lips feel soft against the bare skin of your neck?—passionate and sublime as he marked you up as his own, going lower and lower and—

Three knocks against your door.

Ugh.

"Oh my god, Cain, how many times—? Nancy?"

Lo and behold, there stood the very girlfriend of the guy you were just fantasising about.

Honestly, you would've thought it awkward had you not caught a glimpse of her expression; just a glance long enough to bleed you dry of all your previous thoughts and scrunch your face up as a whole new set rushed in—worrisome ones.

Her eyes were bloodshot, red veins visible and bringing out the puffiness to a degree that had your heart clenching and your lips subconsciously parting open to ask, "Are you alright?"

She gulped, voice shaky as she responded with, "Can I come in?"

Slowly, you nodded—palm pushing against the door just enough to allow it to fall slightly more ajar.

"Here, come sit." You gestured to the couch, hands hesitantly ghosting over her shoulders as you guided her there—watching as she gently sat down, the cotton shifting under her weight. "Can I get you anything?"

She didn't respond: head tilted down, shoulders drooped, and overall demeanour looking to be completely put-off. The poor thing.

You figured a cup of water would be fine, she looked like she needed it.

What was she doing here, anyway? From what you gathered based on the very few interactions you'd had with her, the two of you weren't very close. Why, then, would she suddenly show up at your door so late at night?

Those thoughts plagued your mind as you made your way over to the kitchen—bare feet numb to the cool of the floor. They haunted you as you reached for a cup with one hand and twisted the tap with the other—fingers unfeeling of the pressure that rained upon them. They consumed your entire being until you were left with nothing but the husk of a person on autopilot—quietly making your way back to the living room.

It was only when your eyes landed on her form again, that you snapped out of it in a small burst of surprise.

Gone was the once sat-down figure with an air of dismay clouding her form—replaced, instead, by one that stood up straight, brows furrowed and shoulders tensed as she paced back and forth vigorously. Keyword: paced—she stopped as soon as you arrived, much to your own confusion.

"Nancy, what are you—?"

"You're thinking about Barb too, right?"

She looked you dead in the eyes, and you almost found yourself growing fidgety under her intense gaze.

"What?"

"It's just that..." she trailed off, faltering for a moment, "well, Steve mentioned you've been acting off lately—"

Shit. Steve was catching on.

"—and I was wondering if... it was bothering you too."

You blinked, parting your lips to ask for a little more—for some sort of elaboration—but her voice continued before you even had a chance.

"I mean, it's dumb that we have to keep this whole thing a secret!" She exclaimed, hands making wild gestures now. "Her family deserves to know."

You stood there, blinking in a daze that hadn't quite passed since the moment she arrived. It felt like you had just wandered into a confusing maze, with twists and turns spanning as far as the eye could see; each one riddled with its own set of confusing obstacles you couldn't quite wrap your head around.

On one hand, Nancy's words made sense, you saw why she felt that way—you heard her—and it was so much more prominent in person than over a screen.

On the other hand, as a viewer of the show and a victim of unfortunate circumstance, you hadn't a clue where she was going with this. You knew why she was telling you all of this (you were acting strange and she was feeling off so duh she would try and see if you related) but, where was she going with it? What did she want with you? Surely it wasn't just comfort.

"Do you... want to come with me to tell her parents?"

Ah. There it was.

She wanted you to join her. This was certainly quite the twist. Everything that had happened up until now had alluded to the fact that you were going to join Steve for this season—and to be honest, you preferred that over this.

Besides, she was meant to do all of this with Jonathan—if you said yes, you'd just be getting in the way of their romance and, ergo, the plot itself.

"I don't know..." you started, mind already made up but heart trying its best to ease her into it, "the government wouldn't really like that and we could get in a ton of trouble."

She scoffed. "Who gives a fuck what they think?"

You deadpanned. "Well, Nance, they are kinda the government so..."

"There's this guy," she started, cutting you off and handing you a card, "Barb's parents told me about him—if things don't work out, we can go to him."

Sure enough, you recognised the character as soon as she mentioned him—another prominent adult within the series, quite the funny one too. But, not funny enough for you to pass up spending this season helping out Steve instead.

"Look, Nancy, I—"

You were cut off when her gaze hardened, fists clenching and head shaking from side-to-side—almost seeming disappointed.

"God, you're just like him." And when she spoke, it was bitter—plagued with an icky green—"You two are perfect for each other."

The following events happened too quickly for you to register; one second, she was standing before you with desperation clear on her visage—the next?—she had snatched the card right out from your hands and stormed over to your front door, steps heavy and quaking and loud.

"Nance, wait! Nancy!"

A slam.

Well shit.

You bit your lip, brain replaying the events that had just occurred in too rapid of a succession for you to be able to even respond to them.

A small voice prodded at the back of your mind, lulling you into following after her and clearing up... whatever the hell that was.

However, a much larger, more prominent voice said, fuck it. Because—well, you were in Stranger Things for god's sake! Who the hell cared about some teen drama when there were fucking monsters to worry about?—monsters that you sure as hell weren't about to face weaponless.

Nancy could get over whatever was bothering her so much on her own, you had bigger issues to worry about.

Come on, Y/N, get your head out of the clouds and into the game.

Resolve strengthened and distractions now temporarily at the back of your mind, your feet bounded towards a familiar box mounted onto the wall, fingers wrapping around the cool metal before you punched in a number you had long since memorised over your time in this world.

Turned out, this drama was just the push you needed.

"Harrington residence."

"Steve."

It was silent for a few seconds before you were graced with a response. "Y/N? If you're calling about the dinner at Barb's, I swear—"

"No, no. It's not that, don't worry."

Another pause.

"Are you... okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Don't worry about me."

"You sure? You sound a little... tense."

Your lips quirked up. "You can tell?"

"Well, yeah. I've known you since like, birth."

Leave it to Steve Harrington to put a smile on your face where there wasn't one before.

Seriously though, you might not have actually known him since birth but... something about him noticing how you felt from just the sound of your voice made you feel all... tingly inside—like a warm cloud of pure pink coated you within its comfy confines.

"Y/N? You there?"

"Oh." You jolted, fingers halting in their ministrations with the phone wire, since when did you start twirling it around? "Uh, yeah. I just called to let you know I'm skipping tomorrow so don't bother picking me up, okay?"

"You're skipping? What? Why?"

"Just—uh, don't feel like it."

"You know you've already missed seven days, right?"

"Yeah—" you shrugged as though he could see you, "—what's a couple more?"

"...alright, if that's what you want."

"Thanks Stevie, you're the best, love you!"

You slammed the phone back into the wall before he could respond, but you imagined he released quite the long sigh after your words.

Nevermind that though, you should probably head to bed—you had a long day ahead of you tomorrow; one consisting of many preparations for the challenges that lay ahead.

First things first, you needed yourself a weapon—and no, a wrench was not ideal. You got lucky the first time, you'd rather not risk it the second.

A gun; long reach, high chances of actually killing, probably easy to use—it sounded perfect. Just the thing you'd need. The only problem you could possibly see was...

...how would you get one?

You weren't terribly familiar with gun laws—never had the need to look into them—but even if you were, they definitely changed since the 80s so you were pretty much clueless in that regard.

You could ask one of your brothers if they had one, they certainly seemed like the type—at least, Curt definitely did.

Or maybe he's the type to only fight with his fists?

Tricky—that's what this all was. So tricky, in fact, that the rest of the night was spent contemplating how you would go about obtaining the lethal weapon—

—actually, that wasn't entirely true; you sure wished it was though. Unfortunately for you however, your brain rather stupidly refused to focus on the task at hand, randomly flushing you with thoughts of both your... mother and Nancy whenever you least expected it, two huge pieces of drama that you—quite frankly—didn't feel like dealing with.

But apparently, pushing them to the back of your mind was easier said than done.

Come next morning, you figured indulging in those thoughts wouldn't be too big of a headache after being well-rested with a nice cup of coffee to aid you through your day.

Okay, so, Nancy's behaviour last night wasn't too strange; she had that dinner at Barb's—one you knew she cried at since they dedicated a whole scene to her sobbing in the bathroom. That explained why she was quick to jump to aggression you guessed.

Still, it was strange how she snapped at you (basically her acquaintance) like how she had done Steve (her literal boyfriend) in the show. Did you get something wrong? Were you two closer than you thought you were? Perhaps you had some history with her you weren't aware of.

Unfortunately, until you had more information, you were gonna have to leave that trail of thought.

Now, about your mother...

"Morning, sis."

You nodded—eyes clouded—before responding with, "Morning Cain," and then, as if just registering who you were talking to after their name spilled from your lips, your eyes cleared up and you turned to continue with a much more firm voice, "Hey, do you know if we have any guns at home?"

He paused, one hand rested against the handle of the fridge, one floating mid-air. "Guns?"

"Yeah, guns."

He turned to you fully now, eyes narrowing and sturdy arms folding over his chest as the door shut behind him. "Why would you need to know where the guns are?"

The lie was quick to form on your tongue. "For self-defence, duh."

"Uh-huh."

"Please Cain—" you clasped both hands over each other, "—I promise I won't hurt anyone with them."

Not anyone human, at least.

"You do realise they're made for hurting people, right?"

"Yeah, but I won't use them that way."

He deadpanned. "You're not getting a gun."

"Dammit."

Okay, this was fine. You could work with this. He just confirmed to you that you did, in fact, have guns in this house. All you had to do was look for them. And you knew just where to start.

"Uh, where the hell are you going?"

You paused, hand grazing the bumpy, wooden rail as you tilted your head just enough to peek into the kitchen again. "To my room, where else?"

"Don't you have school?"

"Don't you have a job?"

He crossed his arms again. "You're not skipping, shitbird."

"What?"

"I said: you aren't skipping."

Your eyes widened, jaw dropping open and stomach falling with the spoilt remains of your plan—the ashes and dust piling up enough to cause you to splutter and ask, "You serious?"

His gaze was stern, holding no hint of that playful demeanour you acquainted yourself with last night, "Completely. No playing hooky. You've already got enough absents from that injury of yours."

As if suddenly reminded of its own existence, said wound sent a shock down your arm—trailing through your veins to usher a visible wince on your face.

Before you could say anything else though—plead your case and hope to god he'd let you off—his eyes widened a little, mouth forming a circle before he spoke again, saying, "That's why Harrington ain't here, right? You told him you were skipping?"

You said nothing.

A long, highly exasperated sigh. "Just go get ready, I'll drop you off."

He didn't have to tell you twice.

You rushed up the stairs, wasting no time to burst into a room flooded with posters—all holding different expressions with one, huge thing in common; a pair of bright red gloves.

If anyone had a gun, it was definitely Curt.

Tick. Tock. You were on a time constraint so you had to be quick with this. Anything that even remotely seemed to have enough space to hold a gun inside was instantly ripped open—hinges jingling and wood slamming against wood as your hands scurried the area—rummaged through the masses—desperately seeking what they had yet to find.

That was—until, now.

In the midst of multiple hung up pieces of soft materials shrouded in darkness, your fingers grazed something cold and solid; rough and bumpy. Slowly they wound around the thing, noting its shape, before exerting a force—a tug.

Nothing. It didn't budge.

You tried again, pushing this time.

Again. Nothing.

Third time's the charm.

This time, you pushed upwards.

Bingo.

As if by magic, it fell straight into your hands, and you wasted no time to pull it into the light.

Dark, L-shaped, and a lever poking out from one side—yup, there was no doubt about it. Though, it was one of the weaker variants of the lethal weapon—it would have to do.

Now you could—

"What are you doing in my room?"

Curt. Shit.

"Scratch that—what are you doing with a gun?!"

Your wrist was seized at the entrance before you could even attempt to sneak past—his E/C eyes trained on the object in your hand, not at all paying attention to the way your expression shifted into one of unease, smile twitching a little.

"Curt, hey! When did you come in..?"

"Doesn't matter," he dismissed, "Why do you have a gun? Is someone bothering you at school? You know you can say the word and I'll take care of it, right? Like in Freshman year?"

"Freshman year?" What happened in Freshman year?

"That dickhead Senior who kept picking on you? How did you forget that already?"

You parted your lips, an excuse practically begging to be released from your tongue, but he beat you to it.

"Nevermind, just tell me who it is and I'll take care of it. There's no need to bring a gun into it."

There's no need to bring a gun but it's totally okay beating them up? Some scuffed logic there.

"No one's bothering me, Curt. I uh, I just need it to kill the wolf that attacked me the other day."

He rose a brow. "Kill the wolf that attacked you the other day?"

"Uh... yup."

God, this was so stupid. What kind of excuse was that? 'Kill the wolf that attacked you the other day'? Yeah right.

"Atta girl. That's my sister."

A good excuse apparently—it was a good excuse.

You almost couldn't believe it—the way he pulled you in, wrapping his arm around your neck in a half-hug that almost made it seem as though he was proud of you.

Surely he had taken way too many hits to the head in his profession because you had no clue how he bought that.

But, you weren't complaining.

"Hey, uh, do me a favour?"

He rose a brow. "What?"

"Don't tell Cain, yeah?"

He rolled his eyes. "Of course not, he'd have my head in a heartbeat if he knew I was condoning this."

You grinned, just about ready to give him two thumbs up leaking gratitude and appreciation—when a voice called from downstairs.

"Y/N! Hurry up!"

"A few more minutes!"

That was your cue to go to your room.

Cool air hit your skin as soon as the cotton of your sleepwear was removed—the slight buzz of pain on your arm making itself known once more with another prick, annoying but not unbearable; not like before.

The new bandages looked better than the previous ones; cleaner. Some spots seemed to have given in—allowing red to seep through their snow-white sheets; stain their pure surface. Those parts were stickier than the others, but also, few and far between.

Damn, kinda looks badass.

"I'm not getting any younger here, Y/N!"

"I'm coming! Gheez."

What was that? His catchphrase or something?

With a roll of your eyes, you threw on a top, slipped into a skirt, very quickly touched up on your make-up, and ran down the steps. Nothing too elaborate—you didn't plan on actually going into school anyway.

What? You said you'd skip, so you were gonna skip. You'd just wait 'till he drove off or something.

Actually... this could work out better than you thought.

He was bringing you to school; where one Steve Harrington currently was. And you know what else was at school? Steve's BMW—AKA, the perfect place to store your gun until it was needed.

Yeah, this could work out perfectly.

"Get in, shitbird."

You said nothing, seizing the frigid handle like you had done many a time before, and climbing straight in.

The sky was bleak—the sun invisible; covered by the vast curtain of grey clouds that seemed uninteresting but, for some reason, you couldn't stop looking at.

The pistol you held was tucked under you—out of sight; though not of mind. It felt cool against your skin, sent a shudder through you, up your spine and through your nerves. It kept you rigid.

"I would've let you skip."

You turned, observing the way Cain's gaze stayed trained onto the road ahead, one hand on the wheel, one resting on his lap.

"On any normal circumstance," he continued, shrugging, "but y'know, mom's home and—I don't know if you wanna stick around for that."

"Okay."

"You good?" Now he gave you a bit of a side-eye, one brow raised.

"Yeah, just... thinking about what I'm gonna wear for the Halloween bash at Tina's."

That was a lie, you honestly couldn't care less.

"Party, huh?" He turned his gaze back ahead. "I remember the ragers I used to go to way back when."

"Must've been fun, huh fossil?"

"Watch it, worm."

You snickered.

"Alright, we're here. Get out before I make you."

Older brothers are a piece of work.

You shimmied in your seat, swinging both legs over to the open door, hand firmly around the handle of the weapon beneath your thighs, when—

"What are you doing?"

You froze. "Uh, I don't... I don't know what you're talking about."

"You're getting out of the car weirdly." His tone was pointed—suspicious—and even without having to turn around, you could tell his brow was raised in question.

"No I'm not."

"Uh, yeah you are."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

Slowly, you found yourself able to move your limbs again—annoyance bringing both them and your own brow to life, filtering out any previous fear within an instant. "Don't you have work or something?"

You heard nothing for a few tense moments—though soon, a curt—"Just go,"—made its way to your ears, and the weight on your shoulders was relieved of you.

Once again, you found yourself thinking, he didn't have to tell you twice.

The cool air almost felt relieving against your skin when you finally jumped out—the 'crunch!' of pebbles echoing beneath you—but nothing could compare to the pure amount of genuine solace you were graced with when the sound of the engine starting up again behind you danced into your ears; the sound of wheels skidding across the ground slowly growing farther.

That was a little too close for your liking.

No matter, it was time to find Steve's BMW. While looking for it, though, you might as well review your thoughts.

The events of Season 2 had already kicked off the moment you saw Billy, which meant that while you waited for the next canonical event to occur with the teens, the main group of kids were having their own scenes play out. You were sure by now they were off trying to befriend Billy's stepsister. But, quite frankly, that was irrelevant information to you.

What was relevant, however, was the fact that one of the kids—Dustin Henderson—would end up dragging Steve into quite the predicament. That predicament being one wherein he would end up being surrounded by a bunch of grotesque, man-eating monsters with nothing but a bat to defend himself with—granted, it had nails on the end but it was still not a weapon you'd use.

Now, more likely than not, you would be by his side while it all went down—and you already established that you weren't about to die in this world, so, really, your only option was getting that gun to use in case those demon dogs changed their minds and decided they wanted a taste of fresh, alternative dimension meat.

You had seen first-hand what they were like—held scars they forced onto you on your first day. You felt that chilling fear grip you at the sight of them—chain your limbs up and strangle you enough to almost render you immovable; immobile. Their boney structure, their razor-sharp teeth, their—

"N/N? What are you doing here?"

You jumped, startled out of your thoughts to meet with two pools of brown—familiar in their warmth and softened edges.

"I thought you were playing hooky today."

"Oh, uh—" you cleared your throat, patting down the ruffles of your skirt and avoiding any eye-contact, "—I still am but, Cain caught me and drove me to school so."

He didn't say anything after that, so you took to peering up again. This time, however, you were met with a different set of eyes, ones looking a little bloodshot and inflamed—barely noticeable if you hadn't already seen it the previous night.

They were looking at you through narrowed lenses, pupils shrunk in and gaze heavy with the events of the other night—the distaste of that fateful encounter.

You looked away.

"Oh, uh, Steve?"

"Yeah?"

"I uh, left some of my lipstick in your car, do you mind if I go grab it?"

You returned your gaze to him just in time to catch the pointed look on his face, hands on his hips in that 'mom' way that just screamed Steve Harrington.

"Really, N/N? This is—what?—like the tenth time already?"

You forced a sheepish look, turning your lips up with nerves that weren't triggered by the sentence you'd just heard, per se—but rather, the pair of eyes still burning a hole through your head.

You ignored them when Steve tossed you the keys with a playful roll of his eyes; when you half-entered the car, stuffing the gun into a compartment you knew he wouldn't open anytime soon; you even ignored them as you made your way back to the duo, handing Steve his keys back and quickly denying his offer to cut class with you.

"You sure?" He pushed, brows scrunched up and lips tugged down.

"Yup!" You rose both thumbs. "Hundred percent!"

He parted his mouth open but you didn't wait for a response, turning around quickly to scurry off with those eyes still refusing to leave your backside.

Why the hell did she have to be there?

You couldn't even enjoy your successful little quest, too tense from Nancy's heavy gaze to do anything. It was as though the moment you saw her, your brain instantly replayed the events of last night—the disdain in her voice—and from the looks of her glare, she had the same problem.

Man, this sucked.

You just wanted to experience the world of Stranger Things as safely and non-dramatically as possible but noooo, you had to deal with freaking monsters and teenage girls who—

"Woah, we have got to stop bumping into each other like this."

Your lashes fluttered, eyes training onto a familiar battle jacket littered with logos a plenty—all of which belonged to heavy metal bands.

"Eddie."

"Hey, sweetheart." His lips quirked up—smile reaching his eyes so much so that they crinkled. "What are you doing here? I thought you were playing hooky?"

You deadpanned. "Does everyone know I'm skipping?"

"Well, you are kinda the Queen Bee, sweetheart." His hair bounced as he shrugged.

A thought occurred to you just then, and you found your eyes widening slightly in alarm. "Even the teachers?!"

"Well, no wastoid is exactly going to tell any teachers that the Queen of Hawkins High is skipping."

Wastoid? Wha—?

"Hey, uh—" you blinked, watching as Eddie took to throwing a hand behind his neck, rubbing against the skin as he continued, tone feigning confidence, "—I was actually planning on skipping too so, if you want, we could hotbox in my car?"

Tempting. With all this stress from Nancy, your mom, and the demodogs—weed seemed like the perfect thing to kick back to.

You deserved some time to relax, no?

"Yeah, sure, let's do it."

He perked up, excitement seeping through the grin on his lips as he dramatically bowed with one hand stretched out. "Right this way, milady."

You giggled, your own hand rising up to rest gently against his as you tried your damndest to keep from squealing because—holy shit, you were holding Eddie Munson's hand. You knew girls who would fucking kill to be in your position right now.

His skin was hot against your own; or maybe that was just your whole body heating up in general. You couldn't deny your attraction to the man—hell, you got literal heart eyes whenever you watched him on TV.

Eddie Munson—the guy who got held back in high-school for two years (well—one year as of right now). Eddie Munson—the guy who held the personality of a fun, playful ray of sunshine despite the way he dressed. Eddie Munson—the guy who sacrificed himself to save a whole town of people who abhorred him.

Yeah, you had a big, fat crush on the man.

He could literally be leading you to your death right now and you'd thank him.

"Alright," the sound of a car door sliding open perked your ears up, "I just got a new batch rolling in from Cali so—"

He cut himself off when he turned back around, jaw falling slack as a streak of red slowly crawled across his face, tinging the tips of his ears and ushering a cough straight out of his mouth.

Now, you would normally wonder why he'd reacted that way but you were too distracted by the ache of your own cheeks to—

Ohhh. The ache of your own cheeks.

You quickly cleared your throat, steeling your expression and cursing yourself for being so obvious. Gushing so blatantly in front of characters was going to get you killed in this world, you really had to get rid of that habit.

Lord knew what type of ridiculous expression you had on your face just then.

"Right, uh, you were saying?" You asked as you climbed in, willing yourself to ignore what had just happened.

"Oh, uh, I just had a new batch come in from Cali."

You perked up, interest piqued. "From Cali?! They have the best stuff."

He grinned with you, blush calming down as he rummaged around, hands digging through the many different boxes that scattered the floor.

Meanwhile, you took to shutting the door of the vehicle. Come to think of it, this van kinda looked a bit like the mystery van from scooby doo, except, without the colour.

It was a mess on the inside; if there weren't boxes of who-knows-what substances lying around, then there were various different instruments instead, nothing differing from the norm associated with a band; and yet, just the fact that Eddie was here—that all of this belonged to him—was enough to make it feel special.

You should really ask Eddie if you could sit in on one of his practices one day.

Speaking of the drug dealer, he finally emerged from the pile of boxes hidden in the corner—a plastic zip bag containing a crushed substance within one of his ring-clad hands.

He flicked it with a grin on his face, head turning up as a pair of excited pools met with your own. "Bag of peaceful bliss right here."

You watched with intrigue as his fingers got to work, rolling up the substance effortlessly, as if he'd done it a million times before—which, granted, he probably had.

"Ladies first."

Your lips quirked up, fingers winding around the roll and, in turn, brushing against his own. It was a light touch—a feathery brush—still, it was enough to run tingles down your arm.

The stick was placed to your mouth with one hand, the other curling in on itself in a gesture that asked Eddie to pass over the lighter.

His large hand slowly came to cup your own, fingers engulfing yours—sending warmth to circulate in your blood; to flood your vision in pink—before lightly moving it away. "Allow me, sweetheart."

You didn't move, staying still as he pulled the metallic box up to your face, thumb flicking against the open lid a few times before the flame jumped to life.

It was hot; unbearably so—his breath across your face. The flame was practically nothing compared to him and his proximity. And it only got hotter as you continued staring at him.

It was because you were staring at him so intensely, in fact, that you caught the way his eyes briefly flickered. It was quick, barely noticeable—but you had noticed, and you had seen where they looked.

Your lips quirked up and you took the roll out of your mouth, puffing smoke straight into his face. "Staring at my lips, huh, pretty boy?"

Your grin only grew when he spluttered.

Before he could respond, though, you had lightly shoved the roll into his mouth—lips still quirked up.

You only withdrew when he rose two fingers to rest the cigar against.

"Hey, Eddie?"

He blinked.

"You're not gonna make me pay for this, are you?"

The roll left his mouth with a puff. "Depends."

As he placed it back inside, you rose a brow. "Oh?"

"Yeah, oh."

"Well..." you trailed off, slowly shifting your hips up before plopping them back down—

—straight. onto. his. lap.

His breath audibly hitched; a series of coughs following not long after.

"Careful," you hissed out, plucking the roll from his lips and shifting in your seat—about to climb off—when a warmth snaked its way around your waist, rendering you motionless.

"Where do you think you're going?"

Heat crawled up your spine, invading your senses and hyperfixating your attention on Eddie and the way his lips grazed the lobe of your ear. Any and all previous thoughts were washed away; taking with them your breath.

His hand fell over your own again, ushering the substance back into your mouth and your eyes grew heavy as you took another puff, melting into putty in the arms of the school freak.

The car was quickly fogging up—everywhere you breathed was starting to have that strong, earthy taste to it.

Trippy.

You pulled away, mind hazy and barely able to register the way his lips tugged down.

With just a little wiggle of your hips, his arms fell and his brows scrunched up with worry. You didn't let him voice it though, quickly turning around to lay down and prop your elbows up on his thighs—arms almost immediately going lax once you got comfortable.

Your head now rested on his lap, and you peered up at him through hooded eyes. "Much better."

He smiled down at you again, finger moving to trace your cheek with that same feathery touch from before—the one that elicited a flurry of tingles through your skin.

"Tell me about yourself, Eds."

"Hm?"

"I wanna know you better."

Better than you already did, that was.

"What d'you wanna know?" He asked.

"Anything." You threw your hands up, puffing once more. "I wanna know more 'bout Super Senior Eddie Munson."

He hummed. "I plan to make it big one day."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Groupies 'n everything."

You reached up, placing the blunt against his lips as you proclaimed loudly, "I bet they would trip over 'emselves to get a taste of you."

He winked. "That's what 'm planning." Then, he paused for a minute, expression softening before another inquiry left his mouth. "What about you?"

"Me?"

What were you planning? Survival, really. But, to be honest—and this wasn't just the weed speaking (or was it? You couldn't really tell)—you just wanted to experience the show; meet the characters and bond over little things. Kinda like what you were doing right now.

"I plan on..."

The characters from this show were precious, and you loved them all to bits. They didn't deserve any of what happened to them, that was why you planned on...

"...protecting those I love."

Yeah, perfect.

His eyes widened a little—startled, no doubt, and not expecting that kind of response from you. The perfect opportunity to trip him up more.

"Wanna be one of them?"

He already was one but—he didn't know that.

You assumed he must've been too flustered to talk, because he didn't respond to that—only choosing to continuously blink at you.

This weed was sure making your confidence sky rocket.

Speaking of things the weed was doing for you—your vision was tripping majorly.

The ceiling seemed to zoom in, but also zoom out at the same time, and sometimes you swore you could see the detailed wisps of the smoke that flooded the car's inside; the very atoms that made them up.

Colours were hard to register in your mind; their names even harder—but, with how relaxed the fumes were making you and your tensed muscles, you couldn't really bring yourself to care.

And Eddie—oh Eddie—he just looked so pretty to you right now; so jaw-dropping and mesmerising. Even with how red his eyes were and the extent at which his pupils dilated, they still looked tremendously pretty. His lips were so cute, pink and begging for attention.

You couldn't help it; the way your hand reached out to cup his cheek and guide his head down. Luckily, though, you still had enough sense to tilt his head enough so that instead of your lips touching, your noses did.

If you were going to kiss Eddie, it sure as hell wasn't happening while you were high.

"Y'know," Eddie breathed into your eyes, causing them to flutter shut as you hummed, "I used to think you were a huge bitch."

That shot your eyes open.

"I mean, when you stuck around with people like Tommy H and Carol, it was kinda hard not to."

Ah. Steve's former friends.

"Not to mention King Steve. Though, I don't know if I should call him that anymore."

"'Cause of Billy?"

"Yeah." He chuckled. "Have you seen him? It's only, like, his second day and he's got girls wrapped around his finger like it's nothing."

"I'm sure it'll stay that way permanently too."

"Yeah, he seems like the type to like it."

"Hm?"

"The attention."

Your lips tugged down. "Are you implying something, Eddie?"

"...maybe a little."

Your frown grew deeper. "Y'know, Eds, you shouldn't judge people without getting to know them first."

"Oh? And I suppose you know a ton about Hargrove, huh?"

You narrowed your eyes before you spoke again—tone laced in warning—"Eddie."

He rose both hands, and you let out a breath you didn't even know you were holding in.

"My bad."

"It's okay, let's just forget about it," you said, "I came here to relax and enjoy some time away from stress."

"Stress?"

Well, you supposed it wouldn't be the end of the world if you shared a little with the class.

"Nancy said something... weird to me the other night."

"Harrington's girl?"

"Yeah... she sounded bitter."

"Maybe she was jealous."

You moved to sit up but Eddie was quick to push you back down, both hands placed firmly—yet gently—on your shoulders. "Jealous?"

"Yeah."

"Why would she be jealous for?"

He scoffed. "Oh please, you and Harrington are attached at the hip—if I were your boyfriend, I would be jealous."

For a moment, you allowed yourself to ignore the hypothetical scenario of Eddie being your boyfriend, if only to pay more attention to the apparent green creature that held Nancy by the neck.

Could it be? Was she jealous? Was that why she reacted as strongly as she did when you tried to let her down slowly?

"Hey now, whatever you're thinking, stop thinking it." Eddie's finger tapped against your cheek, sending tiny ripples through your skin. "You said it yourself, you're here to relax, not to stress."

He couldn't be more right.

And with that thought in mind, you sank deeper into the warmth of Eddie's lap, pure safety and comfort shrouding your form—blanketing you so nicely in the soothing presence that was Eddie Munson.

And as your eyes fluttered shut, you whispered one last thing with a warm smile, "This was nice. Thank you, Eddie."

@bdudette, @tanyaherondale, @killerqueenfan, @l3xiluve, @thedoubleexposurephotography, @xxqueenofdemonsxx, @briarsheart, @nickey-diano, @uselessbutinteresting, @steeldaisies, @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom, @patheticreative, @majestichugs, @eddiesbitch83, @secretdryrose, @bloodywickedvamp, @charlizekkelly, @sophiaj650, @mfnqueen1, @axionn, @harrysgoldenwatermelon, @simpfo, @adrienette715, @tippyeddy

I've been watching a lot of zombie stuff recently so I was wondering how Steve, Eddie, and Billy would react to a zombie apocalypse. I'm tempted to write an au but I need to focus on the next part 😭

Tell you what, if the masterlist to this series ever reaches 500 notes, I'll write a zombie apocalypse AU (Edit: Holy shit, it's at 400, wtf?)

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saltylandland · 1 year ago

Text

Bro where is this brain rot for Eddie munson emerging from? I just wanna hangout in his van in a most empty parking lot from a nearby city that Eddie drove too, to see a concert. But then the rain got so heavy we decided to shack up in the parking lot for a bit and chill and listen to the thunder.

Then Eddie pulls out a blunt and I ask to take a hit (or two) and then he playfully accuses me of only being friends with him for his weed and I shoot back how often he looks down my shirt and how his hands will sometimes ’slip’ like I don’t notice that shit… then we start to bicker and it somehow ends with me going ‘you want to kiss me so bad’ jokingly but then he does it immediately like I gave permission and he chases my lips when I eventually pull away.

And then,,, then he breathlessly asks if he can ‘just try something’ barely listening to me as I tell him yes anyway, as he pushes me to lay on the floor of the van as he kisses down my body as he tries to eat me out,, like he’s so clumsy with it bc outta all the different porn mags he’s seen only a handful actually have someone going down on a girl 🥹 but but he gets better at it as he learns just how much he loves being between your legs

And now you indirectly created a monster as he just won’t stop at mouthing at your clit and fingering you until you cum against his lips and then some.

After getting high you talk about intimate details and now oop suddenly your unbuckling his belt.

Oop he only begged you for a handjob but now your tracing the veins on his dick with your tongue.

And by god he is loud. He’s loud in general, but he keens and moans like a bitch in heat at the slightest touch. He’s heaving as you slowly take him in your mouth, his hand grasping at the roots of your hair, lightly scratching at your scalp as if his life depended on it.

You can tell that he’s close cuz he bows over you, his hand in your hair keeping you in place as his hips rock stilted and in small circles. His dick throbs in the back of your throat but the sounds he makes are worth it. He would never force you to swallow his cum, he quickly pulls you off as soon as he regains himself again. But if you do, make sure that he watches, you’d think that he’d pass out from how fast he gets a new stiffy.

Like, just listening to the rock radio station play as Eddie humps you like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do. It’s gross and stuffy in the van, the windows fogging up and the still constant rain helping nothing with the humidity.

Our pretty boy Eddie has all the energy in the world, pushing himself past his limits to watch your face scrunch up with another orgasm, to cum on you again and again, something his fantasies could never do you justice in.

He’s been dreaming of fucking you for forever now, all his wet dreams cantered around you. He’s not entirely convinced that this isn’t a dream so by god will he make this ‘dream’ worth it.

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #yandere eddie munson #eddie x you #eddie x reader #eddie munson x plus size reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #stranger things smut #eddie munson drabble #i am on one today

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collectivecloseness · 9 months ago

Note

okay but imagine one of the yandere fruity four (let’s say Nancy, because she’s been a bit of an example used before poor girl) just snaps and kidnaps you, without thinking about it or consulting the rest of the group. And obviously now all of them have to deal with the repercussions of her actions

Anon I am kissing you on the mouth late for valentines thank you

Things like this are so interesting though! Because if you saw Nancy kidnapping you, and she takes you to the others, home, fuck yes they are so pissed at Nancy, but now they can’t let you go. Because you saw Nancy, one of them, and they can’t put her, or any of their family (you, too, are part of their family) in danger.

So okay, you are joining the family this way. They prepared for this scenario anyway.

Of course they thought they’d have more time, because just... up and taking you would have been a last shot, if after they courted you you still said no- you weren’t sure, or you couldn’t because of some horrible reason restricting your choice :(. They would have helped you through that last alternative anyway, because they love you <3

Not all of them even thought down the taking you path... Well okay actually, all of them did, some of them would have just been a lot quieter about it than others. And some definitely would have only had it as their last, last, very last option if they were that desperate and there was nothing else they could do for you... But you’re here now. They love you. They’ll make it work, as best as they can for you. You deserve that, after everything you’ve been put through now, at the very least.

You deserve everything.

So now not only were you betrayed by one friend, but when you see your other friends, you realise you’ve been betrayed by all of them. All four of your best friends, all of them were lying to you, all of them had this crazy thing about you behind your back together, all of them were going to hurt you by keeping you here, and protect each other instead...

Like I said, the other three are pissed when Nancy tells them what she’s done. Eddie tried to run straight upstairs for you, to the spare room Nancy put you in, that they were all planning to be your room eventually anyways. But she grabs him so hard he nearly breaks his leg, gripping onto the bannister and being yanked down those first couple of steps.

Even Robin’s trying to push past, standing up to Nancy for one of the first proper times, at least physically, as she uses her height to stand practically chest to chest with Nancy, and demand she let her and Eddie go to you right now, and to not mess anything up anymore. Robin’s face serious, and dark, and pissed, as she looms in front of Nancy, a way she’s never been before, not to one of the others.

But Nancy begs everyone to listen first. She’s in tears shortly into her argument, her defence more of an apology than anything, and speeching a stance of what they can all do next, to keep this all together. She knows she fucked up. And Nancy usually doesn’t cry when trying to debate something. But Nancy knows what a whole mess this thing is, and it is entirely her fault; no one else to blame but her this time. She doesn’t want to lose the others either. And she can’t lose you, hopefully if the others stay with her, they’ll help you come back around to her too...

But when the other three first burst into your room, they are in shock.

Yeah they knew you were up here. God, they were practically scratching layers beneath their skin and bouncing the floorboards into dust, knowing you were tied up and frightened and all alone up there, but they were taking forever to talk downstairs. A family meeting without you... the last time that’ll happen, they swear okay? ...Apart from the ones where you don’t need to know something that will just upset you.

Immediately they’re running forwards and untying you. Nancy practically had your whole body bound in rope, she was really panicking after hitting you over the head and deciding to just take you.

Shock still on their faces as Eddie undoes your ear muffs and scarf blindfold from Nancy’s winter wear, wanting you to find your senses, caring about you more than anything else right now. He needs you to not be even more frightened, panicked, to know it’s him and you’re safe now and this will never happen to you again - it shouldn’t have. His hands brushing your cheeks as he removes them. His face tender and soothing and heightened with adrenaline, taking this so so seriously as he frees you, let’s you get your senses back. Keeps his hands stroking your cheeks as you see him, because you know Eddie will keep you safe.

Steve apologising profusely and promising you’re alright over and over, as he immediately moves to assessing the rope situation. Deciding to just cut them all with a pocket knife in his jeans, instead of having you in them for five more seconds. Taking it out and being thankful he has all his family here, because as you notice it’s them, your friends, coming to save you, once Eddie’s freed your eyes, you settle down enough so Steve won’t nick you, as he quickly gets to work. Fuck all this rope, Nancy shouldn’t need any more anyway, she shouldn’t be doing anything by herself anymore if she’s hurting you, and all of you, like this!

Robin breaking Eddie’s handcuffs Nancy stole that are tying you to the your bedpost, while you lay on the floor all wrapped up. She doesn’t even really know how she does it in the end. She just acts quick and makes sure not to hurt your wrist. Permanently breaking something belonging to Eddie’s personality that Nancy had twisted and used to victimise you... Robin could really mess with her right now. But at least once it’s done, it’s easier for Steve, dealing with all that rope. Used just for you, someone who wouldn’t hurt anyone. And you’ve been laying on the carpeted floor with your whole body tied up and senses stolen, with nothing even coating your injured head...

All their eyes wet and terrified and loving and soothing and deep in yours. Eddie holding your face as his dark puppy eyes stay closest to yours, walking you through some calming talk as he holds you. Steve promising he’s getting you out right now and shushing you as he says you’re okay, every time he feels it’s safe enough to look up from his knife, task oriented. Robin joining Steve the second she’s broken the cuffs, her blue eyes less teary and so determined, because she is deep in protective mode right now, letting you know when it’ll be over soon.

As soon as you see the others, especially with their shock, their runs to free you, their soothing and apologetic and horrified words, all you can think is thank god. You’re trying to tell them Nancy has suffered some kind of episode, even though you’re sure they already know that. Nancy wasn’t in this room, and they all knew where you were, they were still just shocked to see you like this.

As soon as they’ve got you free, you leap forward, and because of positioning alone, Steve is the first one you hug. He practically lifts you upright, back onto your feet, the moment he hugs you back, even if it does take him a second before he does so.

Steve sniffles as he hugs you, his toned arms shaking but not from the effort of those ropes. His cheek pressed to yours, as he blinks tears down his face, being brushed away by your hair as he lets you sink into his protective hold. Thanking him, hugging one of your best friends, because he saved you, like you knew he would.

Steve hugs you back, because he’s your hero briefly, and he’s aware this will be the last time you’ll hug him for a while. Any of them. Last time you’ll hug them like this, like the you who you still are, for a while. Steve doesn’t want you to change, Nancy shouldn’t have-

He knows this new arrangement will take some getting used to. For all of them. Especially because you probably are going to change as a person, as someone they all know, they love for who you are. But it’s okay, of course they’ll love you anyway, no matter what.

You tell them again about Nancy suffering some sort of break, clearly something is very wrong with her mental health you say, and they all say they know, which you assume they did as they knew where to find you. They’re all relishing in these last few seconds with you, mourning the normal future they know they could have had with you, by keeping their hands on you while they can right now

Steve rubbing your shoulders with his thumbs, his hands grounding you there with comfort and strength, after you pulled back from the hug. Eddie cupping your cheek and neck, still so close by, his other ringed hand cradling through your hair, and biting his lip as he tries not to think about next time he’ll be able to do this again. Robin rubbing your back up and down, her hand resting on your hip like it usually is with you, knowing she’s lost that normalcy, one type of relationship with you now.

And then you realise that all four of your friends are kidnapping you now. They’re all insane. What the fuck have they been thinking about you this entire time? Why are they doing this now? They’ve untied you from your restraints, Steve is nearly on his knees whilst keeping his hands on your shoulders, as he begs you to believe you’ll never be restrained again, but explains they’re still locking you in this room for now.

Stealing you in Steve’s slightly soundproofed house, with no neighbours in viewable distance through the trees of Hawkins around.

At least the house you were to be kept prisoner in was very lovingly built by the architect... The way out of Steve’s house was a straight line, a path easy for anyone facing that way to spot. Easy for them to see anyone leaving on. If no one came to the front door, and knowing - or rather not knowing what these four were capable of - you’re sure they’d be able to keep people away, then there’s no way you’d be spotted. And while Steve hadn’t soundproofed the house or anything dramatic like that, it did keep sound well. It kept everything in well. Which was unfortunate for you.

Begging one of them to be on your side. Doing so as soon they forlornly tell you what’s going to happen now, for the first couple of days. Like for Robin or Eddie to help you. You’re very quickly trying to refigure out your friends. But they don’t. They don’t let you free. They don’t get you the phone. They want you to know they are on your side, they tell you they don’t want you to feel like you’re all on your own, but you say that you are, because they won’t help you.

They sadly trot away, closing your door behind you, to respect you and your boundaries. Sulking away upset, even if they do understand. But if making them upset that they’re making you feel this way helps you get out, then good! But also they should feel upset! They should feel guilty!

You’ll tell them how abandoned and alone you feel, that neither of them are supporting you, you can’t trust them to be by your side, and they can’t promise you it’s untrue, because you have all this evidence to throw in their face, or to tearily testify with. They say they’ll do anything else for you, anything in the world. Even though every single thing you ask for the first day they say no to.

Nancy begging you not to blame/be mean to the others. But what else can you respond with other than actually you will keep doing so, as they are just as complicit as her because they are keeping you here.

“Do you know the law Nancy? They will also be thrown away for kidnapping. You definitely shouldn’t go for that position as a crime reporter, if you don’t know the law.”

The ‘will’ hurts Nancy. As if you really do want them all sent away to prison. Like you’d try to do that to them if they gave you that bit of freedom right now. Like you’re planning on it happening.

You don’t want Nancy to get that stupid promotion. You don’t exactly care how she feels about herself, unless it’s guilty enough to set you free... or upset enough to hurt- Unless it affects your chances of getting out of here unharmed, you couldn’t give one about her feelings.

“Also fuck you.” Is the other thing you say to Nancy. Right before she leaves you to yourself again.

They try to give you privacy, but also keep you at a level of interaction with them like before. Just like before Nancy hurt you - they are really apologetic for that, and really are glad you let them take care of your poor minor head injury. A similar amount of time that you’d interact with them everyday, before you lived with them. So you weren’t going through too many changes, and so you weren’t scared each time they did breach your new bedroom. They want you to feel normal, they really really do.

Steve mentioned to you about two weeks in, when he came in to chat with you like they all do, that if Nancy gets some promotion she’s working towards, it’ll mean more funds in the household for everyone! He says it while practically bouncing on your- the bed, with a smile. Although he quickly gets that expression on his face, the one you used to think was dorky and endearing, where he realised he may have messed up while speaking, and he quickly rectifies that of course that’s not to say anything negative about you now also pulling from the household pot, and that they’re very happy to have you, they’ve always been planning for that; especially since they know you really wanted that break because you were so burned out, so they were gonna give it to you with all their financial support. All their support in the world. Also, the amount they used to buy you gifts, or nights out, or pay for gas to see you, you were always a part of the pot anyway.

You tell Steve to go away, before he can smile for a second time today. It is very rare any of them smile, in this first week or two they have you. Sometimes they forget things aren’t like they used to be. Or they try to treat things like normal, to help you transition. But you definitely weren’t smiling, and they knew, no matter how much the fact made them want to claw their own hearts out, they knew they were the reason why. So they didn’t really feel any reason for them to smile. Not so far anyway.

#anon mwah tysm for sharing ur brain is so wrinkly I could actually go on about this tbh #yandere fruity four/reader #yandere fruity four #yandere Nancy Wheeler #Yandere Eddie Munson #Yandere Steve Harrington #Yandere Robin Buckley #yandere fruity four drabble #yandere fruity four angst #yandere fruity four x reader #yandere fruity four thoughts #stranger things #anon #ask

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blue-sadie · 1 year ago

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Something A Bit More

Imagine:

Being paired with eddie and during the project you've expressed your displeasure with your boyfriend and wanting someone a bit more..... toxic.

"Oh I know what you mean like if you were mine I wouldn't even let you out my sight, I'll follow you home and make sure you get home safe I would make decisions for you and wouldn't let you hangout withother men unless you have my hickies all over your neck"

#yandere stranger things #stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #stranger things x reader imagine #yandere stranger things x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x reader imagine #yandere eddie munson #yandere eddie munson x reader #series x reader

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tht0nesimp · 2 years ago

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okay but yan. stranger things with reader who calls them mommy/daddy for the first time

AHHH-

TW: yandere tendencies, mentions of sex,

Its honestly not his thing at first, but if it comes out during sex hes more suprised at first

he'll play along and you'll probably never hear the end of it

will use it against you in arguments and other things to try and say you love him( even if you dont)

He doesnt excpect it what so ever

he starts to kind of find pride in when he can get it to slip out. Gets into a mindset of he needs to take care of you

It makes his obsession with you skyrocket

"baby!, im your daddy kidnapping you keeps you safe"

Hearing you call her mommy probably makes her wet on the spot, fills an urge she didnt know she had

Starts making you call her that

Like, if you dont say it in bed she gets really rough until you call her mommy

makes her feel like she owns you

eddie probably asks you to call him daddy at some point

BUT, lets say that you accidentally let it slip during sex without him introducing the idea. Mans gets a whole new level of possessiveness, if you thought he was overwhelming before?

You aint seen shit yet

She basically jaw drops for like, forever

"AHHHH-"

any body youd like added <3

#yandere stranger things #male yandere #yandere girl #yandere steve #yandere steve harrington #yandere eddie munson #yandere max hargrove #yandere billy hargrove #yandere robin buckley #yandere robin #yandere blog #yandere ask #yandere fandom #fanfic #Yan!#CandiesActualFics

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lovely-yandere-imagines · 2 years ago

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NSFW Yandere Eddie Munson Valentine’s Day

I made this for my partner @therealhimboanon Happy Valentine’s Day

Warning: this is very tame Eddie is sweet boy that just want love…even through questionable means. NSFW under the cut so reader be warned but like i said tame.

“So do you like them? or, like like them?” Dustin asked while Eddie stared at you from the lunch table. Eddie laughed to himself, “If you only knew…” he sighed. Eddie kept staring and thought to himself “Like? Yes. Love…? Definitely. …Obsession? …Fuck!”

Just then Dustin snapped him out of it. “Dude, stop staring at them and go talk to them!” Eddie blushed slightly at being call out and dramatically stood up before sarcastically bowing to Dustin and started walking toward your table.

You were sitting by yourself like normal, occasionally pecking at your food before returning to your book, as Eddie saw you up close you took his breathless and without words… “Fuck! What was I going to say?!” He thought to himself. his heart and head panicking as you looked up at him before being saved by the bell ringing and freeing you both of this awkward situation. “Uh…see you Eddie.” You sheepishly said, and with that you made his heart feel like it was going to explode.

Eddie skipped class while you went to your locker finding another love letter inside, the 5th one this week, seems like you've been getting them every day now. It used to be one maybe a week but as Valentine’s Day draws closer they’ve been getting more and more desperate. The only contents of the letter are of lyrics to one of your favorite and “Meet me at the park bench in the woods”

He’s been getting more desperate, its been noticeable by his close friends. Eddie’s fidgeting with his rings more than usual, day dreaming more, even sneaking around and avoiding them till lunch or hellfire meetings. Where he was at these times no one but Eddie and your pets know… he’s made it his goal to befriend them before he confesses to you so he doesn’t scare them and they like him. Eddie read it in a stupid magazine once that people are more willing to trust you if their pets like you so he thought he’d help the odds a bit if his reputation had preceded him.

Breaking into your house was easy at this point, Eddie had done it several time by now, getting to know your animals, laying in your bed, listening to your music. It surprised him that someone so timid would listen to the music you do. This visit was different though. Eddie had a plan, greeting your animals before making your bed and scattering rose petals on it making the shape of a heart, “God I’m so cheesy” he thought to himself, but he was nothing if not a love sick romantic.

Eddie leaves your house to head to the same place he asked you to meet him in his notes. Flowers in hand he picked up for you, his heart raced faster the closer he got. He saw you before you saw him and he awkwardly greeted you making you jump slightly. “Geez…I was wondering when you were coming…” Y/n stated flatly and Eddie blushed and hid behind his hair he pulled in front of his face. “Well, i uh..i was picking you these,” he suddenly presents you with the flowers, smiling proudly, “Uh, happy Valentine’s Day Y/n.” He said.

You could feel yourself blush at the flowers but you could see the nervous look in his eyes, looking from his doe eyes to the flowers and back. “Will you be my Valentine?…” How could you not say yes to him! He looked like a love sick puppy, “Of course I’ll be your valentine, Eddie.” You said while taking the flowers, his heart nearly stopped but then he quickly picked you up off your feet and insisted on driving you home. The entire way to your house he had his arm around you while occasionally resting his hand on your thigh.

You don’t know how he knew where your house was but before you knew it you were pulling into the driveway as Eddie smiled like a giddy kid on Christmas. He quickly had you out of the van and gave you a slow kiss before leading you to your door and making his way inside with you. You lead him to your room and see the rose petals he had sprinkled earlier that day…it finally dawned on you

“Eddie..? How’d you know where I live?” He was silent “Eddie? How did you get into my room?” He wrapped his hands around you from behind and began kissing you on your neck. “You’re so cute, you know that darling?” You blushed as his hands started to roam your body and his kissing became more frantic. Eddie stops his asult of kisses on your neck to turn you around and gives you a passionate kiss before picking you up and throwing you onto the bed.

“Hey, Y/n, have you ever been given head before?” Eddie asked with a big grin, he could tell the way your eyes widened that was a no. He chuckled at the prize before him as he threw off his jacket and made his way on top of you. Continuing his assault on your neck he slowly works his way down, touching and caressing all the right places. He pulls your shirt up and kisses around your chest and down your belly before making his way to your pants. “May I?” Eddie says breathlessly, you shyly nod your head and he pulls your pants and underwear exposing yourself to him.

Eddie spread your legs before starting to kiss your thighs and around your intimate areas but not yet touching them, clearly wanting to tease you. You wiggle your hips a bit and he takes that as a sign to start licking and sucking your intimate bits causes you to gasp. Eddie replies with a growl. He continues to lick and suck down to your entrance before pushing his tongue into your sweet spot. He pushes you farther to the edge with his tongue having you practically ride his face before Eddie decides to use his hands a bit.

He eases one of his fingers into your entrance while he continues his assault on your sensitive areas, pushing the finger deeper into you and curling it a few times before pulling it out and doing it again. Eddie is delighted with the gasps, moans, and squeals you let out as he finger fucks you. He adds more fingers and pushes them in and out faster and faster causing you to fall over the edge, coming undone. Eddie pulls his head up with a giant smile on his face, happy with the work he’s made of you. “Sooo…you ready for round 2 darling? Cause now the real fun can start!”

#yandere #male yandere #yandere x reader #yandere stranger things #yandere eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson #gender neutral reader

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lovelywongie · 1 year ago

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Yanderes that would like to have more quiet and shy darling than than the loud type:

Billy (duh), Will and Robin

Yanderes that wouldn't care about it:

Joyce, Eddie and Mike

Yanderes that would like their darling to be more energetic and talkable type:

Max, Steve and Dustin

#yandere #yandere stranger things 3 #yandere stranger things #yandere max mayfield #yandere steve harrington #yandere dustin #yandere billy hargrove #yandere will #yandere robin #yandere robin buckley #yandere joyce #yandere eddie munson #yandere mike

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catoncrack59 · 2 years ago

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Wayne Munson

Just a little nit pick but whenever I see yandere Eddie Munson fanfic on tumblr Wayne just had been completely absent like you’re supposed to be like the father figure to Eddie and not once he has looked his room and said “what the fuck is wrong with my boy” and tried to talk to him like about this I think this is kind of like something where you don’t pay attention to but remember Eddie is a repeating senior,and so has to live with his uncle I’m not saying that every single fanfic is bad because of this,I just kind of want to see what the scenario is. When Wayne is present and witnessing this.

#yandere stranger things #yandere eddie munson

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prettybabybaby · 2 years ago

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Bully!Eddie fucking you for the first time, in front of a guy he’d just beaten nearly to death, for daring to bully you as well. Only he gets to bully you. And when he saw this stupid jock, pulling on your hair like he does, and daring to yank at the shoulder off your blouse, Eddie saw red. This guy’s still spluttering up blood, the only reason you know he’s still alive, as tears cover your vision while Eddie slowly, but hard, fucks you. Telling you not to look at that asshole, ignore him, just look at Eddie. Don’t look at anyone else while he’s treating your pretty pussy to his nice cock. Introducing them when he’s been waiting patiently for so long. No one else gets to touch his little crybaby’s hair. No one else gets to make her cry. Gets to make her bruise. That’s his job. Isn’t it?

¡ 18+ only ! ¡ minors do not interact !

content: bully!eddie, fem!reader, blood, implied violence

¡ stranger things masterlist !

your back slides against the pavement with every harsh thrust, the grimace on your face shifting to an expression of pleasure, though guilt lingers in your eyes. eddie’s fingers are tangled in your hair, tugging gently.

your core aches but the groaning man beside you has your attention. you’re embarrassed, thankful for the way eddie holds your dress against your hips, concealing you from the man. your underwear is pushed to the side, a pull away from snapping.

his touch is gentle, tender. you’d be surprised if your mind wasn’t lingering elsewhere. the man looks terrible, crimson red splattered across his swollen face and torn clothing.

“don’t look at him,” eddie growls, a harsh pull snapping your head towards him. his face is painted a faint red, a darker hue in the shape of a hand marked his cheek. “he deserved it.”

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famwhy · 1 year ago

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Right Way Up (03)

Stranger Things

Yandere! Steve Harrington X F!Reader, Yandere! Eddie Munson X F!Reader, Yandere! Billy Hargrove X F!Reader

Warnings: Threat/violence, Gore, Mentions of sexual content (implicit), Death, Manipulation, Depictions of toxic relationships, Drugs and alcohol abuse

Note: I know Steve's initials are on this chapter but that doesn't mean this chapter is focused on him, just a head's up.

prev part. masterlist. next part.

03. bring unto me altruism

trait: s.h.

"YOU know him?"

Your gaze wandered over the top of the BMW, breaking away from the (very sturdy-looking) back of Billy Hargrove to instead lock eyes with Steve Harrington—the latter of which had his own optics thoroughly narrowed in your direction.

"Huh?"

"The new guy—" he scoffed out, and you watched as his lips tugged down, brows furrowed very harshly, "—do you know him?"

Ah, shit. You have got to stop slipping up, Y/N.

"No." The response came out quick—and you turning around to face Billy again came quicker. He was still walking off—skinny jeans making it almost impossible to ignore his figure, very clearly outlining his... ahem just as they had in the show. "I certainly wouldn't mind getting to know him, though."

"Ew, gross."

"Oh please, like you can talk."

"I can talk, actually, and—hey! Where are you going?"

Midway through his sentence, you had started off towards the school, strutting after the dirty blonde with just as much feigned confidence in your walk as he.

It was rude to walk off halfway through a conversation but that was probably the least of your worries right now. You had a plan and if you wanted to execute it, you couldn't let Billy out of your sight.

"Y/N?"

"Just heading to class, don't worry. Walk Nancy to her first period then head to yours, 'kay? I'll be fine."

What exactly were you doing? Simple—remember the other day when you had no clue where you were going and had to rely on Steve to get you to your classes? Well, today, you could follow Billy Hargrove and, with any luck, you'd end up finding the counselor without having to ask for help and sounding suspicious.

Although, the last of anyone's guesses as to why you were acting peculiar would be that you came from a whole other world; one wherein they were all characters on a screen with almost three-quarters of them being completely irrelevant to the plot and, therefore, not even paid the littlest of attention to by the audience.

Still, better to be safe than sorry.

You had many more worries running rampant in your mind, all loud and overwhelming, grand and all-consuming—almost to the point where you had bumped into the defined back of the 80s bad boy; a defined back which, all of a sudden, wasn't moving like it was just moments ago.

Why did he stop?

The answer to that question was written clearly on the solid plate stuck to the blank, beaten door before you: COUNSELOR.

Your ears perked up as a jingle sounded from the metal knob, a strong, slightly-tanned hand wrapped firmly around it.

The door refused to budge.

"Ah shit," came the steady curse of the broad male. His body had shifted after that, and even an idiot could tell that he was about to turn around, so you did what any sane person would do—you flung yourself to the side and crashed your butt against one of the chairs snugly tucked against the wall.

Ouch... you'd think the chairs next to the guidance counselor's office would be a little more comfy to land on.

If Billy had found your actions at all weird, he showed no signs of it—choosing, instead, to plop himself down on the seat next to you; pink lips pulled into a straight line and ocean-blue gaze as cool as steel. If eyes were the windows to the soul, then Billy's glass panes were sure-as-hell foggy beyond belief because you hadn't grasped a single glance at his soul.

But... you still knew what it looked like, the shattered crystals left behind in the wake of his past, ready to prick whoever dared come near with their razor-sharp edges—and that thought had your heart squeezing painfully, both in sympathy and guilt; sympathy for his unfortunate circumstances and... guilt for knowing so much about this boy who hadn't a single clue that you existed before... well, any of this.

"'S there a reason for your staring, princess?"

You blinked, all of a sudden being the recipient of a grin that didn't quite seem to reach the eyes of the sender.

"Huh?"—damn, caught lost in thought again—"Oh! Uh, you're my new neighbour, right?"

He arched a brow.

"Cherry Lane?" You added. "My brother told me someone moved in and you don't look like anyone I know."

His mouth stayed sewn shut and you chose to keep going.

"I think I saw you get out of your car earlier too, there was a California tag on it, is that where you used to live?"

Again. No words. Though, this time, his lips pulled taut and any sign of that previous expression had vanished.

"I always thought the Golden Coast was pretty." You weren't an idiot, you saw the change in his expression—the shift in his gaze—but you didn't let it stop you, continuing to speak with a small, gentle smile, "I'm thinking of going one day."

His eyes had softened a little at that, and he parted his lips—looking as though he was about to speak—when, all of a sudden, a sound reverberated through the near-empty hall, and he closed them once more, raising a brow before sending a pointed look your way.

You felt it coming, the rumble deep down in the pits of your stomach, but you were helpless in stopping it—in containing it—and it arrived before you could even blink—

—a low growl.

Your fist rose up, a light cough leaving your mouth as your gaze awkwardly drifted to the side. "I, uh, didn't eat this morning."

Silence.

Then—to your utter surprise—soft, mirthful chuckles flooded your ears, causing you to whip your head around so fast, you almost sprained your poor neck. Beside you was a sight for sore eyes; one that resulted in your jaw dropping all the way to the floor and your eyes practically bulging out with how much they'd widened.

Billy Hargrove—the Billy Hargrove—was laughing.

His soft, golden curls bounced with each bout of snickers that left his mouth—beautiful, azure eyes crinkled and barely visible past his squinted lids—and yet—they still looked just as striking as usual, as mesmerising and jaw-dropping as on TV—if not, more so.

And then, it really sank in.

You made Billy Hargrove laugh.

And it wasn't some fake, obligatory giggle—nor was it that little, psychotic laugh he did when hysteria clouded his usually-cold gaze—no, it was full-blown, genuine laughter. And you caused it.

That thought had your chest swelling with a lot more pride than it probably should've—

"What's up with the tattoo?"

The question left his mouth much more comfortably than his previous words, flowing out with a small, slightly-smug quirk of his lips, and it took you a moment to register the fact that he had stopped chuckling, his gaze having drifted down—specifically, towards your wrist.

You trailed his gaze, finding yourself being met with the three, thick lines that had been there since the day you arrived in this world and—unsure of why they were there yourself—you shrugged. "Dunno, I think I got it while blackout drunk once."

Something about your response must've been funny because he officially chuckled for the second time since meeting you. "I didn't know you country folk knew how to party that hard."

Now, you might've not been from Hawkins yourself but... something about the way he said that had your eyes narrowing slightly in his direction, and you sprung up from your seat, the underside of your thighs suddenly being greeted by cold air.

"Watch it. We can party just as hard as you Calis."

Your pupils grew shaky as you stood there, watching the next set of his actions with a tingling feeling deep down in your stomach.

One hand on his denim-clad knee, defined biceps flexing as he slowly rose up—your eyes rising with him. And as he took a step closer to you—lips twitching further up with a glint in his eyes you couldn't quite discern—you found yourself starting to slowly lose your breath, hands growing just the slightest bit clammy with the sudden blaze of active nerves you were struck with.

"Yeah?"

You gulped. "Yeah."

You felt hyper-aware as a rough, sun-kissed hand slid around your waist—fitting perfectly against the curve of your back, slowly dragging you closer, and sending a flurry of pleasant tingles straight up your spine to meet with the group that started to steadily arise in your chest; a chest that was mere millimetres from the thin, cotton material that covered his own.

Then, he leaned towards your ear, lips grazing the lobe as he whispered—a sultry lull bleeding into his tone—"Why don't you show me just how hard you can party, huh?"

Your breath audibly hitched in your throat but—before you could fret over what he'd say next, how he'd respond to your silly, little fumble—a 'click!' sounded from your side, and you threw yourself straight out of his sturdy arms quicker than a bolt of lightning—just in time, too, for the face of an older woman emerged from within the office not even moments later.

"Ah," the lady nodded, "you must be William."

Your eyes flitted over to him just in time to catch the way his jaw ticked.

"It's Billy, actually." And when he responded, his voice came out cold, different to the playful lilt it held just moments before.

It didn't take a genius to figure out the name struck a nerve.

"Ah, my bad. Would you like to come in and grab your schedule, Billy?"

He didn't respond but did as she asked, brushing past you to walk into the smaller room, only sharing a brief few seconds of eye-contact as he walked past—but those brief few seconds were enough to grant you just a tiny glimpse into the thunderous storm hidden within the pools of his irises—

—and as the door shut behind him, your lips tugged down.

You couldn't help but let your mind wander to the way his muscles seemed to tense up at the mention of California, freeze in what you could safely assume was caused by his longing to return to the freedom of his home state.

To be forced to depart from your home was nothing new, but you truly felt for Billy and his circumstances. His dad was more than hard on him—he was downright abusive, and Billy was forced to endure it without a single soul in his corner to help him through it, to guide him down the right path and teach him how to break out of the cycle of abuse he was forced into upon being born.

He was only eighteen. A goddamn child. He shouldn't have had to go through what he did.

He should've had the chance to redeem himself.

But that chance was squandered in Season 3, ripped from him akin to how his life was—a grotesque limb of mixed flesh having pierced through his chest, several other messed-up tentacles latched painfully onto his sides, bleeding him dry, draining the life from his eyes.

He didn't deserve to die.

Officially bummed-out by your own trail of thoughts, you heaved out a sigh before your ears perked up at a familiar 'click!' and your head snapped to the door again.

Out came Billy, the smug twitch of his lips back on his face—it was so comfortably situated there, in fact, that if any other person had seen it, they'd have assumed it was there the whole time.

But, despite him looking perfectly fine as he walked out of the old office, you still felt the urge to fly into his arms and wrap him in an embrace filled to the brim with promises; promises to at least provide him some level of support for what he was going through and what he would go through. Though, unlike with Eddie, you couldn't act upon it.

See, Billy and Eddie were two completely different people—where Eddie had brushed off your sudden hug quite easily—happily welcomed it, even—Billy would definitely question it, especially considering the fact that he didn't even know who you were.

And so, although it took all of your willpower, you refrained from throwing yourself onto him—choosing, instead, to stand still as he sauntered over, fingers rising up to brush against your shoulder gently; teasingly.

"See ya 'round, princess."

Instantly, a flurry of tiny, winged creatures erupted in your stomach, sending tingles through your body—up your spine to seize you at your throat, clawing into your windpipe and rendering you motionless in astonishment and awe and—

Was it just you or was it getting hot in here?

"Y/N?" You blinked, attention turning to the dark-haired female suddenly stood before you. "What are you doing here?"

Forcing yourself to forget that... whatever that was, you let a small, sheepish smile curve onto your lips. "Actually, miss, do you mind if I ask for a reprint of my schedule?"

"A reprint?" She rose a brow, arms slowly folding over her chest. "I thought you already had it memorised."

"Oh, uh,"—cue a small, nervous giggle—"you see, it kinda like... slipped my mind, y'know? And I already lost my old one so... can I have that reprint?"

She stood there for a little while longer—letting you really bask in the glory of her heavy judgement—before finally heaving out a sigh through her nose, sounding like she just aged up another ten years as she spun on her heel, full, brown curls bouncing after her.

The ground was smooth, friction practically non-existant as you rocked on your heels, awaiting the piece of paper with bated breath. The ticks of the clock suddenly didn't seem so much like white noise anymore as impatience furrowed your brows and your teeth jutted out, sinking a little into your bottom lip in anticipation.

Then, with a loud, echoing, "Y/N!"—someone had called out to you, but their voice was too high-pitched to be the one you were looking to hear—not to mention the fact that it came from the hall to your right as opposed to the office in front of you.

Your head whipped around just in time to have your whole body jerk a little as a girl skidded to an abrupt stop right next to you, her brown, soft-looking hair bouncing with an almost unnecessary amount of volume.

In her hands were several pieces of bright orange paper, all inked with a few words you couldn't quite make out—not without squinting at least.

"Hey!"

"Uh, hey..."

Who the hell was this again?

"How have you been? You haven't been to practice for a while now, the girls are pretty worried." As she spoke, she tucked a stray strand behind her ear and you squinted—trying to figure out where you'd seen her in the show.

"Oh, uh, I've just been a little sick, that's all."—seriously, who was this girl?—"I'm fine now though."

"That's great to hear!" She beamed, though her smile didn't quite seem to reach her eyes. "Listen, I'm having this party on Halloween and... I wanted you to be the first invite."

She extended one hand—flyer fit snugly between her fingertips—and you reached out, wrapping your fingers around the other end before she released it.

Eyes falling down, you took in the words written in... well, you didn't even know what font that was: TINA'S HALLOWEEN BASH. Come and get Sheet Faced.

Oh, so this was Tina.

"You'll be there, right?"

Your eyes flew back up and you were met with her intense gaze, swirling with a desperate, expectant plea you were almost saddened to see.

"Yeah," you nodded, "I'll be there."

If anyone saw the way her shoulders fell and the muscles on her face relaxed at your words, they would've assumed you took some sort of heavy anvil off her shoulders, freeing her of some sort of imaginary weight that was supposedly weighing her down.

"Thank you," she breathed out, voice practically inaudible over the air leaving her lungs.

Damn, were you that influential?—so much so that your presence would make or break a party?

"No problem?"

If you were being completely honest, you had no idea what to think of Tina—her character wasn't very explored in the show considering the fact that her role was very minor, the only thing she was really used for was the Halloween bash. But just from these few minutes with her alone, you could tell she was someone who heavily valued reputation.

"Okay, well, I should go," her voice pierced through your thoughts. "I'm thinking of inviting the new kid."

You parted your lips—about to say goodbye—when she twirled around and took off running, not even bothering to spare another glance your way.

Rude.

But as your gaze drifted down to the piece of paper in your hands once more, you found yourself uncaring of her rather unorthodox departure—too busy thinking about... something else.

"Y/N, here's your schedule."

Ah, nevermind the bash, you had your schedule now. You could finally know where you were meant to be for each period—albeit, it would take you a while to actually find the places but at least you knew what subjects you were meant to be in during the week. It wasn't much, but it was something.

Speaking of class, you were long overdue for your first period—

—and your teacher seemed to agree on that too, judging by the harsh glare situated on his face as soon as your sheepish form walked through the door. But hey, could he blame you? No, you were just trying to find your way around this stupid maze of a school.

Luckily, getting to your second class was much easier seeing as you passed it on your way to the first—but that didn't make it any less difficult to have to sit through. You were in Stranger Things—for fuck's sake!—what the hell did Newton's Third Law have to do with it?

You weren't ashamed to admit that you didn't pay attention to any of the other classes leading up to lunch—nor were you opposed to confessing the huge sigh of relief you let out once the long break period finally arrived, because—c'mon—who the hell paid attention to class when they just got transported to another world?

Not you.

So yes, you were currently happily strolling through the halls with your arms crossed over your books as you hugged said items to your chest, no sign of Steve in sight—but, you did catch a glimpse of a very familiar Lion's mane by a set of grey lockers in the corner of your eye.

"Eddie!"

Your voice must've come suddenly because he jumped as soon as you called out to him, head turning your way and one hand situating itself above his heart after he saw you. "Oh, Y/N!"

Your lips twitched up at just the sight of him. "What happened to 'sweetheart'?"

"Oh, uh, you want me to call you that? In front of all these people?"

And just like that, your lips tugged down. "Of course, why would that be a problem? Unless you're uncomfortable with it yourself—in which case, you don't have to call me by it."

Immediately, his head shook from side-to-side, messy hair bouncing crazily along with it. "No, no, not at all... sweetheart."

You'd be lying if you said that the nickname didn't garner a reaction from you; didn't result in your chest swirling with a blazing warmth.

Though, it also seemed to result in the jaw of the person stood next to him dropping to the floor; the same person you had just noticed was there in the first place. He had hair that was just as curly as Eddie's, but—unlike the male you knew—his was cut shorter, barely reaching past his ears really.

You knew this guy, he was one of Eddie's friends.

What was his name again? It started with a G. Let's see... Gavin..? No... Gary..? No...

Oh!

"Gareth right?" Relief washed through your insides when his head nodded, eyes wide and seeming to look through you, almost as if he couldn't even believe you were there, "It's so nice to meet another friend of Eddie's!"

"Another?" He seemed to have shot out of his trance at that, and it wasn't long before he gave you an incredulous look, gaze flickering over from you to Eddie, to you to Eddie, over and over again.

Then, all too suddenly, he pulled on the other male's arm and yanked him to the side—not even 3 feet of you—before resuming, "You're friends with the Queen Bee? How the hell did that happen?"

"You think I know?!"

Eddie's response was enough to garner a chuckle from you, causing both boys to quickly return their gazes to your form. Before they could comment on their fuck-up however, another voice came bellowing down the hall, calling out to you.

"Y/N!"

Unlike with Gareth before, you recognised that pretty face paired with those luscious ginger strands of hair straight away. How could you not? You had practically seen a thousand edits of them along with the 'Chrissy Wake Up' song on TikTok. Kinda hard to forget her after the Internet did its magic.

Though, it wasn't exactly unpleasant to be meeting her, and so, you gave her as bright a smile as you could muster. "Chrissy! Hey!"

"Hi!" She beamed right back at you, but unlike Tina, Chrissy's smile genuinely reached her glinting eyes, even going as far as adorably crinkling them up a little. "Tina said you were feeling fine now, do you mind coming to practice today? Only if you're okay! I know you've been sick so take as much rest as you need and don't feel pressured."

How the hell could you say no to that?

"Yeah, okay, sure! I'll come with you to practice."

You weren't sure how it was possible, but she seemed to light up even further at that, almost blinding you like the little ball of sunshine she was.

In fact, she was so distracting, you almost forgot the presence of the two boys dressed in a completely different colour pallet to you. Keyword: almost.

"Looks like that's my cue." You turned their way—if only to save your eyesight from genuinely deteriorating due to the light that was Chrissy. "It was nice meeting you, Gareth. Good to see you again, Eddie."

Just before departing, you ghosted your fingers over the covered shoulder of Eddie, wiggling them about like you had done to Steve just the day prior; a signature goodbye, if you will.

And as you walked down the halls, you picked up on one last thing coming from Gareth's mouth... one last thing that was enough to drill your feet straight into the ground.

"Eddie? Eddie, wake up!"

That phrase...

Flashes of Season 4 infiltrated your gaze; of the unfortunate victims that had their lives stripped from them; of the very girl stood next to you's body flying up, limbs distorting as they snapped irregularly, eyes not even having the pleasure of losing light with how unjustly they were gauged out from her.

Had you messed up somehow?

Had the events of Season 4 ended up being triggered too early by your mere existence?

The questions overwhelmed you—flooded through your senses and clogged up your airways with their untimely arrival. You were a puppet and they were the strings, ushering you to turn around; to rid yourself of the wool pulled over your eyes—of the blissful ignorance surrounding your form—and, helpless to their influence, you did exactly that.

Slowly, your head reared backwards—the room spinning around you—and your eyes were greeted by a welcome sight; one that breathed life back into your limbs.

Eddie stood there—eyes still very much on his face—with a familiar, light blush spread across his cheeks. Even as his form was being rapidly shook by his dear friend, he remained still, gaze trained on you. He only seemed to have snapped out of it after making proper eye-contact with you.

Two blinks. A small, shy raised hand. And a tiny wave.

False alarm. He was just flustered.

It made sense, your previous actions could be interpreted as flirting after all—and to be honest, you didn't really mind if it was (again, the Eddie Munson)—but, you'd be lying if you said he didn't just give you a bit of a scare there.

The sentence that just came out of Gareth's mouth was the very same, infamous sentence uttered by Eddie's lips just before the first death of Season 4—a rather brutal death involving the very ball of sunshine that was just tasked to retrieve you.

Speaking of that ball of sunshine—

"Y/N, you coming?"

You blinked, quickly returning Eddie's wave before whipping your head back around to face the ginger next to you once again.

You had to admit, it was very surreal coming face-to-face with people from the show who were meant to die—it felt kinda like seeing a ghost, and a part of you (just a teensy-weensy, little part) found it... well... unsettling.

But, that was just a small part.

"Yeah. Let's go."

You shook off the residual fear that lingered from that little moment before finally continuing to follow Chrissy down the hall.

The whole walk was full of her detailing you on the failed practices of the cheerleaders in your absence. Apparently, Heather tried and failed to do a cartwheel into a back-flip as part of one of the routines before dramatically throwing her pompoms to the ground and angrily muttering that you could do it instead.

You had no idea who Heather was but you wished you were there to see it.

Oh, and—with you gone—it seemed as though a lot of the girls had taken to slacking off, opting to gaze longingly at the sweaty boys that played basketball just across the Gym instead of actually being productive.

You doubted that would get any better with Billy around now.

"Well, well, well," a high-pitched voice sliced through your thoughts and you blinked, finally noticing that you arrived at the Gym. "Look who finally decided to show up."

You recognised that puffed-up, blonde hair from the first day of your arrival, the stance she took on being an almost-exact replica of the one back in the infirmary.

"Finally done punching the daylights out of some random freak in school?" She scoffed out.

"Sarah," Chrissy hissed from beside you, "don't say that. Y/N's been sick recently."

"Sick of being just as aggressive as her brother?" Sarah rolled her eyes.

Before you could retort with your own defense, however, someone else had piped in—that person being a brunette with rather short, straight hair, "You're talking like you don't wanna fuck him."

Uh—what?

"Jenny!" Your eyes flitted over to the blonde just in time to catch her reddened cheeks.

"What? It's true, isn't it?"

"Whatever, let's just..."

Sarah trailed off there, jaw hanging open as her eyes seemed to land on something not within your immediate eyesight. And when you found yourself following her gaze—you located the subject of her interest, the lack of words suddenly making sense.

Golden curls you had the pleasure of seeing up close just this morning were farther now, having just barely passed through the entrance. A cigarette hung loosely from his lips as the electricity in his eyes zapped through the Gym before finally landing on you, lips edging up into what you could only call a smirk.

It wasn't long before he sauntered over, practically demanding all of the attention in the room with his walk; attention which was happily handed over to him on a sleek, silver plate.

"All this time I've been calling you princess... when you've really been a queen," as he spoke—voice as husky as ever—a teasing lilt laced into his tone, intensifying his gaze and overwhelming you with his suffocating presence. "Why didn't you say anything, dollface?"

Breathe, Y/N, breathe. Stand your ground.

You tried to, you really did—but, the only way you'd be able to keep your composure right now was by closing your eyes and pretending you didn't see him—

—so you did exactly that.

Your lashes fluttered shut and you envisioned a blank sea of darkness before uttering out a response, "Didn't think it was important."

"Yeah?" Now, while you might not have been able to see him, you could still very well hear him, and his voice was nothing short of the perfect mixture between smooth and rough and—

Stop. It.

For your own sake—and for fear of further falling apart—you chose not to say anything and only nodded.

That was a mistake.

Instant regret hit you square in the face when you felt the gentle touch of a few, rough fingers against your chin, tilting your head just enough to rest at an angle before a surge of warm air tickled your lashes.

And as he spoke—lips almost grazing your closed lids—those familiar flying pests made their home in your stomach, "Where'd those pretty eyes of yours go? Didn't seem to stop wanting to use them this morning."

Damn him and his smoothness.

In an effort to continue to save face, you resorted to squeezing your eyes even further shut—paying no mind to the blissful warmth slowly coating your form or the teasing snickers that left the bad boy's mouth; snickers which you could practically feel the vibrations of.

"What's the matter? Have I rendered Miss Queen Bee speechless?"

Your vision was dark but you could still see the smug smirk on his face. Just wait until you gathered yourself, you were gonna make him ten times more flustered than you—just wait.

The light clearing of a throat suddenly served as a reminder that you two weren't the only ones in the room and you found yourself feeling a little... cold when Billy pulled away.

Cold? Ugh, once again, damn him and his smoothness.

Finally deeming it safe to do so, you opened your eyes, blinking a few times to adjust to the light once more before you were finally able to make out the slowly-shrinking figure of Billy Hargrove. But just as he reached the entrance of the Gym once more, he paused, one hand firmly gripping onto the frame as he called out to you over his shoulder.

"Keep your bed nice and warm for me, will ya, dollface?"

Your jaw dropped.

Someone else then said something along the lines of 'oh my god' but—if you were being honest—you were barely able to hear it over the echo of Billy's snickers as he walked away, completely amused by your reaction no doubt.

He was so unequivocally bold, you almost couldn't believe it.

"Uh, guys, I think I'm gonna take a raincheck on practice today." But, it seemed as though the other girls definitely could—judging by how the very girl who said this rushed right after Billy.

"Me too!"

"Yeah, uh, I think I'm feeling a little sick."

"Well, I, for one, am chasing up that boy."

"Not if I get him first!"

And as a majority of them rushed after the handsome male, you found yourself deadpanning.

"Bruh."

You definitely couldn't blame them though, the rest of your day was spent recalling all those scenes with him after all. Even Steve noticed your absent-mindedness in the last period of the day—trying several outlandish things to grab your attention that he only informed you of once the lesson was over.

You didn't even notice him waving his arms wildly in front of your face while the teacher's back was turned.

And even as you walked beside him, Nancy strutting ahead of the two of you after you'd picked her up from class, you still had your head roaming around in the clouds.

"Hey, Y/N?"

You hummed, half-listening, half-not.

Steve then leaned further your way, shoulder brushing your own as he whispered against your ear. "Wish me good luck?"

You blinked up at him, having paid enough attention to scrunch up your nose in confusion and ask, "Good luck for what?"

"The dinner. At Barb's?"

A few more blinks.

And then—

"Ohhhhh."

Nancy turned around at that, and Steve was quick to hush you. He only resumed talking when she faced forward once more—albeit, slower than she turned around.

"What are you doing? Trying to get me in trouble?!" His whisper came out harsh, and you winced a little.

"Alright, alright, gheez."

His attitude seemed to be at an all-time high because he rolled his eyes after that. "I just... don't get why I have to go to this stupid dinner anyway."

"Steve." It was your turn to harshly whisper. "Don't say that. Nancy needs closure, this dinner is exactly that."

You felt for Steve just a tad bit, it wasn't his best friend that died after all (thank god for that) but that didn't mean he got to complain about attending a dinner his girlfriend wanted him to be at because he was there the night of the first attack; of the first murder.

See, Barbara (or Barb) had been Nancy's best friend—the two being practically attached by the hip—so of course the night she died would be one that Nancy deeply regretted, and of course she would want closure with the parents of her best friend. It just made sense.

In fact, the whole reason why she did any of what she did in Season 2 was so that she could inform Barb's parents (who still thought their child was out there somewhere) that their kid was, in fact, dead.

"Y/N, you there?"

Caught in a monologue? Seriously, Y/N? What are you, the main character?

"Yeah, I'm here."

Seeing as you were already outside and stood right by Steve's car—you slotted your hand between the cold of both the handle and the door before pulling it open, leaping straight in, and causing the whole vehicle to jerk in a symphony of loud clangs from sheer force.

"Hey! Careful!" It seemed like your music wasn't appreciated by Steve though.

"Relax. It's not like I broke it or anything—" feeling like messing with him—because duh—a smirk slowly twitched onto your lips, "—besides, it's excited to see me, aren't you, girl?"

Steve let out another hiss when you patted the seat a little too harshly—sounding akin to a pissed off feline which just made him seem less menacing and more adorable.

Ha, you tried, Steve, you tried.

The click of the passenger door drew your eyes over to Nancy's form, watching as her legs entered one at a time before she took a seat and turned your way—"We're dropping you off then heading straight over to Barb's."—then, turning to Steve, "Right, Steve?"

You could already hear the grumbled out 'yes' coming from him and you only sent him a grin seeping with amusement when he met your gaze through the rear-view mirror—your lips stretching further as he mouthed the words 'help me' with anguish in his eyes.

"You two have fun, yeah?"

You said the sentence to piss Steve off even further but when you caught a glimpse of the look on Nance's face, a pang shot straight through your chest.

Her eyes had this far-away look about them as her lips curved up by a very small amount—though there was no joy in it, only grief.

"Hey..." you placed one hand on the shoulder of her seat, using it to pull yourself forward as you furrowed your brows, worry clouding your gaze. "You alright?"

She sniffled a little before waving her hand and nodding in response. "Yeah... yeah, I'm fine. Let's go."

Your lips tugged down and you shared a look with your best friend before he started the engine, breathing life into the vehicle as you slowly lowered your body back down onto the leather seat.

She wasn't fine; even without knowledge from the show, you could tell. She might not have been crying but her lip was definitely quivering a little and her eyes... well, they just weren't all... present in the moment.

But, she would be fine. And that was enough.

Besides, though it was cold to say, you had bigger things to worry about. Nancy would get help from Jonathan in order to come to terms with Barb's death—meanwhile, you had no one to help you out with all the spare knowledge you stored in your brain; with all the premonitions (if you could call it that) you were blessed with.

Perhaps it was time you started preparing for another bout with the demodogs—you were Steve's best friend, after all; that probably meant you'd most likely end up facing the dogs together with him later on in the Season.

"Y/N."

You perked up at the call of your name, shaking away the thoughts clinging to your brain.

"We're here."

Lo and behold, so it seemed you were, the familiar sidewalk leading up to your house being visible through the clear glass panes beside you.

Clicking open the door, you took one step out before swinging the rest of your body to follow after, and once you closed the door again, you walked over to the passenger-side window—shoes barely making a sound against the ground—before your knees bent down a little and you tapped lightly against the glass.

"Let the Hollands know I wish them the best, okay?" You offered a gentle smile to the girl sat before you, and she tried her best to muster one up in return.

"Okay..."

"See you guys."

And with a brief wave, you quickly spun around and headed towards the relatively-normal house.

You now—thankfully—had keys of your own so there was no need to knock or anything. Well—it was more like you had them all this time but didn't know where they were and just so happened to find them the other day but—details, details.

After fiddling with the keys a little, you heard a 'click!' and pushed against the handle before entering, one hand moving behind you to carefully shut the door.

"I'm home."

Curt's voice was the first to greet you—albeit, not very genuinely. "Congratulations, want a trophy?"

Uh, yes, actually. You would very much like a trophy after coming back home in one piece in the world of Stranger Things.

"We're having pasta tonight!" Luckily, Cain's words were a lot more welcoming than the other brother.

So, as was your right, you ignored your second oldest brother in favour of responding to the first. "Ooh! Pasta?!"

You had to admit, his cooking the other night was rather good—okay, it was magnificent, you just didn't wanna admit it because you stormed off the other day before being able to properly finish it.

But now that you could—

Before you could finish that train of thought, three loud knocks resounded through the room, no doubt coming from the door behind you.

Huh.

Was that Steve? Did he forget to say something?

You lightly wrapped your palm around the handle, turning it slowly before the door was open once more, a sudden, light breeze hitting you square in the face—

—though, the breeze could never be more sudden than who you saw at the door.

It wasn't your swooshy-haired companion to greet you on the other side—no—but rather, an older woman with barely visible bags underneath her drooping eyes; eyes which seemed to have lost all light, almost appearing chillingly lifeless—

—well, that was until they lit up at the sight of you.

"Oh, Y/N! Baby! I've missed you so much!"

And as she threw herself onto your form—arms engulfing you wholly, emotionally—you found yourself blanking out for once, only one thought popping up in your head:

What. The. Fuck.

Did Billy give you guys butterflies or what? 😏 (Srsly tho, I need to know if I'm writing him well—)

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eddiemunsonvampire876 · 1 year ago

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Nice

#yandere eddie munson

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collectivecloseness · 9 months ago

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omg so hopping on the being kidnapped by yan!f4 train imagine a couple of days after they’re all trying to be super nice to you, as if that’d make up for what they’re doing. Including Nancy, although I’m not sure if she’d be avoidant or extra attentive

A kiss for you too anon mwah. You’re absolutely right this needs to be talked about

After the initial couple of days of screaming and crying and fighting and all that angst, from you and the other four, they’re trying to lighten things up. Since you’ll be staying here for a long time, they want you to get used to living with them! To know as quickly as possible that they really are going to look after you now you’re home and they do love you, they’re sorry they were too scared to tell you sooner.

They all try to bring you things, whether that’s necessities like water and food, or simple nice things like a tv, some clothes from your home, some games - nothing you can use to contact outside though sorry, think of it like one of those detox’s they’ll say.

Items like that, but also gifts. You were lavished with gifts when they were trying to court you anyway, some you’d didn’t even know were their doing. But now they’re physically trying to hold themselves back from piling it on.

Yeah if you’d just joined their home like normal, choosing to get into the relationship after they won over your hearts in the way they were hoping to, they’d be piling the gifts so high you wouldn’t even be able to move in your brand new bedroom. But because of these circumstances, they don’t want you to think they’re trying to buy your affection/trust/forgiveness/love. They absolutely want to gift you everything ever the universe has to offer, but they’re aware everything is still a lot for you right now.

You might not be exactly in the mood for presents. They don’t want you ripping up a top they got you, using this new lamp to throw at their head (every lamp has been removed from your room now), using a pocketknife meant for protection by your lovers to help you escape from your lovers.

They’re not stupid, or emotionally unintelligent. They’re aware gifts are not even any sort of priority for you right now, actually with the way you’re acting they may just make you more pissed. So they save some lovely already gift wrapped items in their closets. Holding off booking that date at the new restaurant you haven’t been able to afford yet. Hoping that new movie stays in theatres long enough they don’t have to wait a year for a video release for you.

Definitely still they do give you presents. But not nearly as many as they’d smother you with if everything was perfect and lovey dovey and domestic harmony, and not like this.

They’re all trying so hard to be nice and helpful and kind. They really are.

And they won’t stop doing so for you, no matter how you act towards them, they understand, and it’s their jobs to not act even worse now, to be better no matter how you react to them.

After the initial couple of days of calming you, trying to explain your new life for now while you’re temporarily not quite understanding the situation that they themselves are in; it’s okay, they get it, they didn’t expect things to turn out this way either, it’s alright to feel upset, but they promise they’ll look after you; and also whilst planning amongst themselves how to keep you here and what the fuck they are gonna do now, they can at least prioritise from keeping you here and calm enough not to hurt yourself or anyone trying to escape, to trying to look after you emotionally and physically on every other level.

One of the ways they do that is they start decorating your brand new bedroom! Because unfortunately, they didn’t have time to do that before you moved in, which they are not happy about. Again, they are still mad at Nancy, for the situation she’s put all five of you in.

They bring new things in to spice up your room every day, someone having to be waiting by the door, because while Eddie might walk in with his arms full of posters, Steve has to grab you midair as you launch yourself through the opening. Eddie once had to wrestle you up into his grip and off your feet when you scratched Robin’s face up. The time you hid behind the door to leap out was scary too, for them, but Robin was waiting a few feet outside your entrance, physically blocking your path, when Steve had been knocked on his ass after being tricked into thinking the room was somehow completely empty.

But once the door’s closed again it’s okay. They’ll take you beating at their chest or yanking their hair out, and they know you won’t really try and hurt them (until the lamp incident... And unknowing that you’re seriously considering hostage taking at some point).

Nancy went through a catalogue with you months ago, back when you two were ‘friends’, just for fun she said, but it was to find your favourite wallpaper. She planned for the future back then, Steve sniped. But when talking to you, Steve asks if your favourite is still the same, but if not he’ll go through a different one with you! You can pick! Him and Robin even go together after work to get some of those paint colour sample cards.

You momentarily think about eating the pages from the catalogue, just to see if it’ll help your escape in anyway. At least instilling panic in the others that you’ll never be happy here, might work - it also might make things much worse. So that, and the worry if they’ll even take you to a doctor if something did happen, stops you from going to town on the paper. That and you really don’t want Steve’s fingers in your mouth, not when he’s secretly been this obsessed with you, even if it did meant you could bite him till it hurt.

Cuddly toys are something they think about getting, as you can’t hurt anyone or threaten to hurt yourself with them. The time you did threaten that last thing, they...

But at least you’ll have some comfort. Something soft and picked to be personable for you and safe. Something you can use for catharsis, talk to, cuddle, keep as a security blanket; especially when you won’t use them. And especially when you have so many nightmares, and you won’t let them help you when they come to wake you up, not even a little bit. That really kills them.

Maybe after hugging the toy they picked out for you, you’d eventually start to hug them finally again too. They also think about adding a scent of theirs into the toy.

Eddie was actually keeping a stuffed toy packed away as one of his many presents, to give you when you were feeling better, so he was a little annoyed when Robin went and straight up gave you one herself. She probably should have thought it through, finding the stuffing all shredded, shoved underneath your bedroom door, almost made her tear up. Although the four hearing you angrily bark that you’d set it on fire if you could was more horrifying...

Maybe they’d prefer if it was only them you could get hugs and comfort from right now. You’re also still not exactly giving a warm welcome to many of their gifts.

They can’t exactly bring much from your home, since you’re technically a missing person, but they get everything they can! Swapping from your old home to your new one here and there, over time. It’s alright anyway, even though they want to give you things from home to help soothe your transition, to help you stay connected to you. They know your personality soooo well, they know exactly what to get for your room! Even if there is some bickering over some of the interior design details.

The gang remember you pointing out how you liked a unique set of drawers, in the bedroom of your favourite character in a movie you were watching. They looked it up after the movie night, but the furniture didn’t actually exist, just a set piece. Eddie, Steve and Robin work really hard on creating that piece for you in the garage, a print of it hanging on the wall as they put their Hawkins High woodwork classes to use. They’re worried you won’t accept your gift if Nancy’s ‘tainted it’, after you had a pretty harsh ‘conversation’ with her the day they begin that project.

You bursting into tears at the sight of it when they happily present it to you in your room after weeks of dedicated work, was not at all the reaction they were wanting for you...

But they do try so so hard to perfect your bedroom. Not only is it going to be your room forever (well, unless you all move in your future), but at the moment, you’re going to be spending a lot of time in there. They add onto your room little by little nearly every day, to show their love for you constantly. Their dedication to making this work. That you are a part of their home now, this isn’t just a phase, they’re not going to throw you out like garbage. They promise you of that.

But also, Eddie desperately tells the others he wants you to keep your personality, your individuality, for you to keep being who you are. Not just ‘their love’, but you. He doesn’t want you to change, he reminds them none of them do, and he wants you to always know you’re still you, you don’t have to be reduced just because one freedom is temporarily restricted right now.

You’re not a mindless hostage, and if they ever sense they’ve begun to make you feel like that then they’ll have failed, they all decree to each other there and then.

It’s good Eddie is very emotionally intelligent. Of fucking course they all agree with him. But the larger details are something they can forget about, when keeping you safe at home is so prevalent on their minds.

Minor details of additional door locks, or the threat of having to create rules, or not being able to talk to other friends and family longer and longer, are not meant to chip away at you into becoming a traumatised and hopeless zombie.

Sure, Nancy is beaming the first time you let her sit on the corner of your bed, and Steve nearly cries when he manages to give you his shirt to change into and you don’t attack him (you didn’t notice it was his). But when they notice you disassociating, or losing hope and thrive for life (not survival, but the joys of being), or catatonically agreeing with thing’s from overwhelming grief, they immediately switch up just a little bit. They like you not hating them, they don’t like you becoming a shell of yourself.

Nancy accidentally used the term ‘middle ground’ once when talking about this, and Eddie actually flipped the coffee table over. She hadn’t meant it like that. They were all some type of exhausted, but they understood you must feel worse. I mean they really do empathise with you, they’re your soulmates so of course they love and understand you. And they realise they have each other, and right now you’re fighting that, you think you’re all alone.

They’d rather you swear at them with the same witty comebacks you’d use in a drunken fake argument, or to scare off bullies harassing them, see that fire and fight and stubbornness they fell in love with, hell that even made them feel safe, rather than you not reacting at all. They just want you to love them again. They’ll work so hard on it, because they know they would do anything. Shit, after nearly losing you and each other in the Upside Down, multiple times, having you here safe with them is more than enough for them to fight for your future together. Fight for you.

Robin hates what she’s done, or rather what she’s doing. She doesn’t want to emotionally or psychologically torture you either. Even though she’s trying to displace herself a little bit from her actions. Her mind is usually a little all over the place, but she’s making lists of what favourite foods and drinks they have of yours in house, and when something is low on stock so someone needs to pick it up soon, it all helps her feel like she’s helping you. Even if you tell her to her face you don’t feel like she is.

Robin’s really glad to have Steve as her boulder here, like he always is. To remind her that you don’t really mean it, you don’t hate her, you are just upset, and Robin- they all understand why you are. Robin likes being there for Steve too. She knows he needs her love and support just as much as she needs his, and especially when you’re not accepting their love and support at all, it’s nice for them to be able to be there for each other in this horrible period of transition right now.

Even though Nancy tries to add her own ideas to the plans they all have to make now, shes definitely vetoed from speaking a few times by the other three.

They keep apologising for her to you, but slowly, they start to bring Nancy into the room with them as well, so you can get used to her as well as the others, since they all really do wanna work this relationship out with you. So you can all be a happy family.

Yeah Nancy messed up, and not only do they understand you might not want to see her, especially after she hit you what the fuck, but they also don’t want her anywhere near you sometimes. One of the only things they want in life is to protect you, and Nancy broke that promise they silently made to you when they first fell in love. If she was anyone else, this would be majorly different, but she’s their partner and part of their family. They still love her, and they know no matter what she loves you too. They really do want everything to work out in domestic bliss between you all :’) <3

Every time Nancy’s come in your room you’ve at least utilised the others against her. Sure apparently they won’t turn her in and set you free, but your comfort is seemingly soooo important to them, to the level they’ll at least tell her to leave your room, when you beg up at them to pull at their heartstrings.

You absolutely try some psychological manipulation wherever you can, with each of them individually. In fact sometimes you’ll ask for one of them alone, when two or three of them come in. Because not only is that person honoured and feeling more protective over you in a way, more like they are the only one who can help you, but it allows you to wiggle your way into their minds and souls a lot easier; whilst also making whoever you do turn away feel like they should do more to make them be the person you go to with your needs next.

You’ll try pulling them apart from each other, tearing down any semblance of this ‘family’, or you’ll see if you can strengthen their bond but without Nancy, or anyone you think is more of a threat - you’ll try and analyse your best options of getting out of here over and over. Of course, only some of those plans include you being nice to one or a few of the others. Some don’t include them at all, or... play on the thought you might have to be not very nice to them at all. But you really don’t want to think about seriously hurting them. Not just these couple of days, or even weeks, in yet.

You’re betrayed, but you still emotionally feel like they’re your best friends. You went through all that trauma with the Upside Down and everything trying to save them, you know everything about them, and how harsh their lives have been, it hurts to view them in a light that makes them less human, or less deserving of your empathy, but just because you don’t want to seriously life threateningly injure them, not at this stage, especially when you have so many other options, doesn’t mean you won’t stop fighting to get out.

Although fighting means being smart. Sometimes it means not trying to get out right that second. But sometimes it also means making sacrifices. Sacrificing a part of yourself by doing things you’d never dream of, or hurting someone because they hurt you first. And they’ll keep doing so. They did this, they’re still doing it, you have to put you first, you have to survive.

But if anything, you really don’t want to be like them.

#also I rly wanna talk abt stuff to do with like I said throwing the lamp at their head #but I can’t fit it all here but I definitely have thoughts and wanna talk abt things surrounding that scenario hahaha #tysm for sending this is i love y’all’s thoughts these r so juicy! 💔#yandere fruity four/reader #yandere Eddie Munson #Yandere Nancy Wheeler #Yandere Steve Harrington #Yandere Robin Buckley #yandere fruity four #yandere fruity four Drabble #yandere fruity four thoughts #yandere fruity four x reader #anon #ask #stranger things

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