annab-recs - Tumblr blog

annab-recs · 4 months

Note

AH HI!! so... i love the way you write ditzy!reader, and especially with steve idk it just warms my heart yk? The way they interact 😭 it's so lovely

Since I'm an angsty girly at heart, I thought about a situation where steve gets a teeny tiny bit frustrated with ditzy!reader, but it's just seconds, even less than that but it's enough to make her upset for making him upset but also a super fluffy moment between both of them and steve being mesmerized by her and just so much in love

ahh thank u lovie! pls enjoy!! — steve gets frustrated with his sensitive gf and makes up with her accordingly (hurt/comfort, established relationship, 2.7k)

fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

You keep Steve company during the last half of his shift like you always do.

He’s grumpier than usual, though — all pouty and visibly brooding.

You plop yourself on the front counter of Family Video and ask him what’s wrong, and he tells you that the day’s been hell and he’s just tired. There is no “but I feel better now” like there usually is when he’s upset but doesn’t want you to think it’s your fault.

The “because you’re here” is typically implied.

Not so much now.

You’re having the complete opposite day of your sulking boyfriend. Yours had been dreadfully boring, or at least you say it had been, but you find a million different things to tell him. You’re too excited after having spent so many hours without him, like a dog with a wagging tail. You’ve got the zoomies of the mouth, if you could even call it that.

“—And then I saw the cutest dog on the way over here. His name was Cappy, and he was huge, and the owner was so nice. He even let me pet him, and he literally felt like a cloud— the dog, not the owner.”

Steve is used to this. The whole rambling about nothing thing. He loves it about you, actually. It took him ages to coax you out of that shell after your asshole ex told you that you talked too much, convinced you that no one cared about what you had to say.

You’re more comfortable now, and Steve loves that you are, but right now he just can’t concentrate.

Keith’s been on his ass about inventory all day, and he just learned how to do it on the old, bulky computer this morning — but only after Robin made him an hour late to his shift. Everything’s just too much now. He’s overwhelmed to the point of spontaneous combustion.

For the first time ever, you’re not helping.

“—And, like, I know when we move into our apartment, we’re technically not allowed to have pets, but like… What about a fish? Or a turtle?” you wonder aloud but don’t stop to let him answer. Sitting on the edge of the counter, you kick your feet and flit your eyes to the spotted ceiling. “What if I start feeding the deer in the woods, and they just start showing up at our backdoor? ‘Cause technically—”

“Babe, please,” Steve snaps suddenly when your sneaker knocks his chair. He’s buzzing with anger, and even though it’s not because of you, he doesn’t know where else to put it.

Your eyes go wide at the newfound bite in his tone. He’s not shouting at you, but it makes your heart stop like he is. You feel like a kid again, getting scolded for being “too much.”

“…What?” you squeak.

Steve sighs. A deep, heavy sigh. It doesn’t remove the leaden weight from his chest, though.

“I’m… I’m really trying to concentrate here, and you’re just— you’re making it really hard,” he tells you through gritted teeth, trying hard to keep his composure.

You deflate like a popped balloon. “Oh…”

He can hear the waver in your tone, the way your voice sounds wet with unshed tears. But he’s too overwhelmed — internally raging and selfish with it. His sweltering temper makes his woe feel more important than yours.

“Yeah, so… Can you just— go bother someone else for, like, five minutes?” he asks, fists clenched on either side of the clunky keyboard, his gaze concentrated on the pixelated screen. “Robin’s probably sulking in a corner somewhere. Go find her.”

Your face crumbles like a balled-up piece of paper. Your chest gets all tight, and your eyes start to burn when tears gather behind them.

You’d always been a flower of melodrama — blooming eternally and constantly sensitive. So when Steve cut you off as you fantasized about a family of deer living in the backyard of an apartment you were supposed to share together, it felt like a knife in your chest.

The irrational thought that he no longer wanted any of that with you was fleeting and vivid and burning. Irrational, still.

But now you’re annoying him. He’s told you as much, with an unusual harshness he’s never spat at you before. And now your fears feel much more real.

“I’m bothering you?” you ask him, barely intelligible through the whimper in your throat.

Steve huffs again. His elbows thunk against the desk when he puts his head in his palms, swiping his fingers through his hair like he always does when he’s antsy.

“I just really need to get this done,” he tells you, softer now. He makes himself mad all over again, though, and gets sharper once more. “I need to finish this before I get fired, and then we have no apartment to move into because we have no money, alright?”

There it is. The root of all his anger. A lingering feeling of inadequacy.

He wants a life with you, but all he’s got is a measly Family Video salary — which he’s lucky to have apparently, because he can’t seem to do anything right. It stirs like a fire in the pit of his stomach.

After another deep breath, he finally turns to look up at you. His honey eyes are wet and stern. The chiseled edges of his features are sharp. Gently, he pleads. “I really need to work here, babe.”

You nod, understanding and internally weeping. “Okay. I’m— I’m sorry, I was just— I’ve been missing you all day, and I got too excited, I think,” you confess, wringing your clammy hands in your lap like a scolded child.

“Don’t apologize,” Steve says with a huff, leaning back against the squeaking swivel chair. It’s old and has lost all its cushion. His stiff back aches all the more. There’s no relief, to any of it.

He sits back up again and puts his unsure hands back on the keyboard. “Just— Just go, okay? Let me finish this.”

He leaves little room for argument.

You wouldn’t, though, even if you wanted to. Which you do. You’re just not strong enough.

—————

Steve tells you to go, but you end up in the kiddie corner across the store.

Mr. Rogers puts on a bright red cardigan and sings a tune that makes you feel like crying. You sit on the color-blocked carpet, surrounded by block toys, and clutch a stuffed bunny to your chest. You can’t tell if the vintage VHS is making the screen blurry or if it’s the tears gathering heavy at your waterline.

Robin walks by you, does a double-take, and immediately reports to Steve.

“What did you do?” she interrogates with narrowed eyes, strolling up to the counter with a cart full of tapes to put away.

The hearty tap, tap, taping of the keyboard fills the silence.

Steve doesn’t look at her until he’s finished up the last of his work. Only when it’s fully and finally complete does his hardened gaze dart to her. “What are you talking about?”

“Your girlfriend. She’s upset.”

“What do you mean she’s upset?”

Robin rolls her eyes at his obliviousness. “I don’t know. She’s singing the Mister Roger’s theme song and, like, crying. It’s weird.”

Steve’s brows pinch. His heart does, too. “Crying?”

“Well— not crying, exactly. It’s this really weird blubbering thing.” She fails to explain it so she tries to imitate it. A sobbing, sniffling sort of noise. She fails at that, too. Her scrunched face goes back to normal. “Like that.”

Deadpanned, Steve nods. “Wow, Robin. That was really helpful. Thank you.”

“Just go comfort your girlfriend, dingus.”

Steve still thinks she’s joking. Robin doesn’t lie, but she does have a tendency to overemphasize the mundane.

He goes to see you anyway, though, and doesn’t think twice about any of it — about what Robin said or what he had said to you before that.

He finds you in the kid’s section, in front of the tiny television, surrounded by brightly colored toys. He smiles at the sight of you, exhaling a sharp laugh through his nose.

“What are you doing all the way over here, huh?” he questions to announce his arrival, which you seemingly hadn’t noticed. “This area is usually for kids, ya know? Well, kids and Dustin Henderson.”

He doesn’t sound as annoyed with you anymore. You’re grateful for that much, but you still feel a bit sick about the whole thing.

Your nervous hands pick the cotton of the fuzzy bunny in your arms. You keep your gaze on the television in front of you, but you aren’t really watching it anymore. “I used to watch this stuff a lot growing up. The nostalgia sorta makes me wanna puke. But, like, in a good way.”

Steve scoffs. “Well, maybe we should turn it off then, ‘cause if I have to clean up vomit after the day I’ve had, I might actually go insane.”

He’s kidding. Mostly. The universe tends to be cruel like that, but he’d clean up all your messes a thousand times over if he had to.

He laughs at his own joke as he crouches to sit down next to you. He bends his knees, props his arms on top of them, and looks over at you. You don’t crack a smile for him, which is weird because you always laugh at his jokes. Even the ones that aren’t funny. Especially the ones that aren’t funny.

His smile ebbs to a wavering half-smirk as he knocks his shoulder with yours. “You okay?”

You think for a moment, jutting your lips out, unblinking at the television screen. “No,” you answer after a few seconds of silence. “But I’ll get over it. I think.”

Your honesty makes his heart wrench — like you’ve wrapped both your tiny hands around the beating organ and squeezed. It knocks the breath out of his lungs, a fish so ruthlessly pulled from the water. He tries to speak through the sudden lack of air. “Wh—What happened? Was it… Did I do something? Did you—”

“No,” you cut off his stammering with a firm shake of your head. “I did something.”

“Oh,” is all he says, pink lips pouting and wide eyes darting. “What does… What does that mean? Did you, like, step on a rogue VHS or something? ‘Cause I do that all the time, and technically, that’s Rob’s fault for leaving them out, so—”

You shake your head again, digging your nails into the delicate cotton of the well-loved stuffy in your arms. “No. I was just— I was botheringyou, and now I feel bad,” you confess, all quiet like a meek child who’s learning what it means to be sorry.

Steve — your oh, so oblivious one — goes aflame with embarrassment. He’d been too clouded by his own anger to recognize the venom spilling from his mouth; to understand that it would inevitably hurt you.

With chiseled features twisted in confusion, he shakes his head and stammers. “What? No! You weren’t— You weren’t bothering me!”

You turn to look at him, for the first time since he sat down beside you. Your eyes are glassy and swimming with hurt. You try to keep your trembling features stoic. You don’t want to seem as hurt by it all as you really are.

You feel like you should, anyway. What right do you have to be sad when you were the one being a bother?

“You said I was,” you remind him, still soft but sterner now. “You told me to go bother someone else—”

“Oh, babe…” Steve says, deflating just as you had.

He knows how sensitive you are, how deeply you feel things. You’re vulnerable, raw — it makes everything feel more personal than it really is. It makes grumpy jabs from your dumbass boyfriend hurt like a lemon on a weeping wound.

He tries to apologize, knowing that he hurt you and that it’s not up to him to decide that he didn’t.

“I wasn’t… I didn’t mean to, babe,” he murmurs, swiping a tense hand through his hair and then gesticulating wildly with it. “I was just being a dick, you know? I’ve been super stressed all day and—”

“Don’t apologize. I was being annoying.”

Steve blinks at you with wide, wet eyes — like you’ve hurt him by talking so cruelly about yourself.

“Baby, no. No,” he urges, ducking down to meet your gaze when you look away from him. “I’m just an idiot, okay? I put off inventory until the last second, and Keith’s been on my ass all day about it, and I just— I took that out on you, and that’s not fair, and I’m sorry.”

You shake your head, pursing your bitten lips to the side and twisting the long ear of the bunny between your fingers. “It’s not your fault, Steve…” you murmur, almost inaudibly.

He scoffs. It sounds like a bitter laugh. “Well, actually, it kinda is.”

“I just… I don’t really understand what’s going on sometimes. Or, like, a lot of the time,” you admit with a distracted gaze, eyes flitting everywhere but to the boy beside you. You’re too ashamed to look at him now. “And it’s harder for me to know when I’m talking too much, you know? Or if I’m being super annoying.”

“I know…” Steve nods, trying his best to be sympathetic of you. He loves how soft you are — too much to understand you completely. He loves how gently you treat the rest of the world, how unusually giddy you get in your gentleness.

You swallow through a tightening throat and shrug to pretend your world doesn’t feel like it’s crumbling around you. “And I don’t care about annoying other people— well, I do, but it’s different with you, you know? Other people can’t break up with me for being too much.”

“The idiot that told you you were too much had exactly zero personality,” Steve tells you, mostly because he means it but also to see you smile.

You do, just barely. A grin so soft only someone deathly in love with you could see.

“You’re never annoying me, okay? Ever. I love hearing you talk. I love having you around.”

“Yeah?” you ask him, blinking back burning tears.

“Hell yeah! You’re, like, the best part of my day! The only good part of my day, now that I think about it.”

Biting back a grin, you tease, “Well, what about Robin?”

“Robin made me late today, so we’re kinda not friends right now.”

“That’s mean,” you scold despite the growing smile on your face.

Steve shrugs. “We’ll make up before I clock out. No big deal.”

You go suddenly shy, smiling sheepish and tilting your chin to your chest to peek at him through your lashes. “Are we gonna make up before you clock out?” you wonder quietly.

“Only if you’re willing to forgive me for being an insufferable douchebag,” Steve answers, only half-joking. He very seldomly feels worthy of your softness.

You look at him with it, anyway.

Full on beaming now, you reach across the short distance to wrap him in a firm embrace. The position is only slightly awkward. Sitting side by side with your asses on the hard carpet, your arms wound tightly around his neck — a bit like a snake smothering its prey.

Steve feels grateful to be held so ardently.

His nose smushes into your neck. The sweet scent of your perfume entwines with the warm scent of your sweater. He smiles into your shoulder when it makes you giggle. You pull back from him then, just to steal a quick peck a moment later. Your lips smack audibly against his grin.

“Can we make out before you clock out?” you lilt with a shy smirk.

“…That is the single best idea I’ve heard all day.”

Your giggle fills the empty store when Steve rises suddenly and pulls you with him. He leads you toward the back, tugging you by the hand down the short corridor and rambling all the way. “Keith left for the day, so his office is empty, which means it’s fair game—”

“I am not making out with you in Keith’s office!��

“But his desk chair is crazy comfortable, and also, he’s a dick, so… who cares?”

#recs #f: stranger things #p: steve harrington #l: oneshot #sh: oneshot #g: angst #g: fluff #sh: angst #sh: fluff #au: ditzy reader #sh: ditzy reader #a: lovebugism #sh: lovebugism #read: december 2023

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annab-recs · 4 months

Text

late.

synopsis: your boyfriend’s superhero antics give you a fright, and it’s up to him to reassure you of his well-being when he returns home from the fight.

author’s note: i’ll admit, this has been sitting in my drafts for the longest time… likely since no way home came out! but i’ve been trying to get back into the swing of writing, and i figured it was a good idea to start with finishing up some works in progress before diving into anything new. so here’s some peter angst and fluff, just like the good ol’ days. enjoy!!

wordcount: 1,613

18. “It’s late. Shouldn’t you be asleep?” 25. “What the hell were you thinking?!” 48. “Why are you crying?”

Peter Parker x Reader

The window to the bedroom slides open, a figure in blue and red quietly stepping through the frame and carefully sliding the window shut behind him, all the while listening intently for any signs of life in the apartment beyond. Satisfied that he hasn’t woken his aunt, Peter turns around only to be startled by a figure sat in the darkness of the room, criss-cross on his bed.

“Shit.” He curses, huffing out a laugh when he realizes it’s only you. “It’s late,” Peter starts, tugging his mask off and tossing it onto his desk as he turns towards his closet to grab a t-shirt and sweatpants. “Shouldn’t you be asleep?”

Keep reading

#recs #f: marvel #p: peter parker #l: oneshot #pbp: oneshot #g: angst #g: fluff #pbp: angst #pbp: fluff #a: lilyswritings #pbp: lilyswritings #read: december 2023

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annab-recs · 4 months

Note

Hi there! Can I request something where MCU!Peter and the reader find out their baby has powers like Peter when the baby starts crawling, Peter is giddy and all but the reader is freaking out because now she has to take care of two spiders.

i really didn’t know what to name her 😭

pairing ➳ peter parker x reader.

masterlist

“okay, don’t freak out.” your husband put his hands up in front of his chest as he entered the bedroom.

“...what did you do?”

“oh, not me. annie.”

you put down your book finally and got out of bed, “okay. what’s happening?”

“she... you better see this.” peter wrapped his fingers around your wrist and pulled you along, “she started crawling.”

“peter, she started that weeks ago...” you looked at your husband in confusion. when you reached the room, you found it empty. peter let you go around, looking every corner of the room. you checked under the little crib and the box of toys, even the cupboards and the drawers– she was peter’s daughter and anything was possible.

peter just stood there with pursed lips and you looked at him, your brows pulled together, “um... don’t look up.”

you looked up and there your baby was, crawling around the ceiling like gravity was nothing to her. you gasped, “peter, what the-”

“i know, i know!” he held your hands, “i know it’s scary, babe. but look at her go.” peter smiled proudly as her daughter’s soft brown hair stuck up in all directions.

“i can’t even hear you! peter, get my baby down from the ceiling!” you sighed, tension rising up within your body as you stared at her too, “what if she falls down?”

“she wouldn’t i was right here!” peter claimed. you gave him a look and his smile turned nervous, “e-except for when i was not... sorry.”

you sighed, “you need to get her.”

“she looks like she’s having fun.” peter pointed out and you looked at the little girl crawling around in circles until she reached the fan, making your eyes widen further.

“peter!”

peter sensed your panic and quickly jumped up, clinging to the ceiling with one hand while he grabbed anne in his arms. she immediately went over his shoulder and tried to crawl back to the ceiling. all you could do was watch the scene unfold, your arms crossed over your chest.

“come here.” peter grabbed the little baby and hopped back onto the floor. you sighed in relief when she was back in your arms.

“hey, sweetie.” you cooed as you hugged her to your chest, “don’t do that... your father is scary enough like that.” you brushed her soft, chestnut hair back.

“hey-” peter protested but stopped when he looked at your worried expression, “hey...” he said again, softer. your husband walked up to you and wrapped his arms around you carefully, “it’s okay.”

“annie...”

“she’s gonna be fine. you think i’d let something happen to her?” peter placed a gentle kiss against your forehead.

you sighed, “i know. that’s why i’m worried about both of you.”

“you better be worried about your hair, babe.” peter mumbleb, again making you look at him in confusion. peter pointed to the way anne’s little fist was around a lock of your hair.

“oh, crap-”

#recs #f: marvel #p: peter parker #l: blurb #pbp: blurb #g: fluff #pbp: fluff #au: dad #pbp: dad #a: parkerpeter24 #pbp: parkerpeter24 #read: december 2023

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annab-recs · 6 months

Text

Shhh

Just thinking about Eddie coming home from a three cities in five days tour, his voice completely gone.

He looks miserable when he tries to say hello to you despite better knowledge and you flinch at the sound, hearing the pain in the scratch deep in his throat. You clasp a hand over his mouth, shutting him up before he can hurt himself more.

Good thing there's a full weekend before he has to go back to the workshop on Monday, where his day job is waiting for him.

You tuck him into bed, throw a sketchpad and a pen at him and try to turn to get some camomile tea brewing but he snatches the back of your shirt and pulls you in, tucks you against his chest and just holds you there.

It's a weird silence, you can feel the words rattling around in his chest cavity and you're impressed and proud at how much restraint he's showing.

When he lets you go reluctantly, you smother his face in kisses, assuring him you'll be right back. He grins, voices a scratchy hum and softly slaps your ass when you wiggle out the bed.

In the kitchen, you start to get busy finding everything that will help to restore his voice again as fast as possible. You had started to miss it in all its ever-changing variations when you had come home on Monday to an empty apartment to many small voids where Eddie's presence usually lingers in the things he cherishes the most, uses every day.

Clothes and books - he packed too little of one, too much of the other as always - an off-white spot in the shape of a guitar over the armchair that's the only void that won't stay empty in his absence. Not only because you like sitting in this spot, though usually got no chance to sit in here when Eddie is around, but because it smells of him, because you can sink into the impression his presence has left there over the years.

You only have dried sage right now but you'll get fresh one and some other things when he's settled and asleep which shouldn't take too long, judging by the soft purple half-moons under his eyes. He's not getting any younger and hoisting amps at two in the morning after a busy concert days leaves traces now.

Maybe he has already passed out, you think. You've been busy in the kitchen for more than five minutes and he hasn't sneaked up on you yet, impatiently wrapping his arms around you from behind, sinking his face into your shoulder.

But when you get back to the bedroom with a pot full of steaming hot camomile and sage tea and a jar of honey, he's still awake, frantically filling the sketch pad with his scratchy-elegant handwriting.

He looks up when he hears you enter and makes a small, high pitched noise in his chest, his smile a soft curve of gratitude and admiration.

He pulls you back into the bed with him, pulls your legs into his lap and puts an obscene amount of honey into his first cup of tea. You chuckle and make a stupid joke about bees or something when your eyes start to move over the first page of five he had filled in your absence. You don't finish the joke, the thought fading as you fall into the report of his days away.

It's a ritual that you're fond of. It bridges the gap that had opened when you stopped dragging yourself to every gig just for the sake of it. You didn't miss the stress and the claustrophobic haze of it all - after all, you're not getting any younger either - but you missed his euphoria, missed to share his joy and whatever else got his blood pumping fast and hot and wild.

You read it all out loud, commenting in between, forming your inquisitive thoughts into yes or no questions, chuckling, marvelling, ranting, all while Eddie drinks his too-sweet tea in small sips and enlivens your narration with his facial expressions and small grunting noises.

You try not to laugh too hard, for it always makes him laugh as well and you think he knows you're holding back if the way he keeps kissing the corners of your tightly sealed lips is anything to go by. Like small thank you's because you caring for him when he's unwell still blows him away a little, even after all this time.

"You tired?" you ask, when the written report ends mid-sentence and you look up to find Eddie nodding off with his head rolling against the wall. He cracks open one eye, shakes his head, shakes himself awake and no to your question, a hand reaching out to the sketchpad in your lap.

"You can finish that later, Ed." You pluck the cup from his other hand before he can spill whats left in there over the sheets. "You look like shit."

He snorts a laugh, then coughs.

"Shit, sorry."

"S'ok-ay--" he croaks, using his vocal cords out of habit and coughs some more.

"Shhh," you say and start rubbing soothing circles into his back for as long as it takes for the dry, sore heaving to subside again.

"Okay, now you sleep. I'm going out to get some th--"

A hand over your mouth shuts you up. He's shaking his head, fumbling the notepad out of your lap at last with the other one.

Don't want you to leave. Take a nap with me?

"I won't be long, I join you when I get back."

He shakes his head again.

Please?

You barely have time to look at the word when he starts manhandling you up the bed and pulls you down with him, burying his face in your chest.

"Alright," you say, weaving your fingers into his hair while something more than his breath starts to spread warmth through your ribcage. "Alright, I stay."

You feel his muscles relax, his breath even out. Seconds later, he's asleep.

#recs #f: stranger things #p: eddie munson #l: blurb #g: fluff #a: somnambulic thing #em: blurb #em: fluff #em: somnambulic thing #read: november 2023

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annab-recs · 6 months

Text

Oh, Baby.

What happens when you realize your period is late and you may or may not be pregant?

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Genre: Fluff/angst

Word Count: 3.1K

Pure terror ran through your body on the way to Peter’s apartment.

Usually it was a slight anxiety, the shaking of your leg in anticipation to see your boy; or the fingertips you tapped on the subway pole when there was no space to sit so your hands were forced to mimic the beat of the music running through your headphones.

Usually you had a half grin, love sick look on your face knowing after the 10 minute train ride you would be in Peter’s room, in his bed with him all over you. He would kiss down your face, and you would push him away after he starts to blow raspberries on your neck.

“Peter,” You would whine, moving your head away while simultaneously pushing lightly at his chest. “Stop, my neck tingles!” It was always the same complaint, the vibration of his lips and warm breath sent chills down your spine while also slightly buzzing a part in your brain that made you squirm far away. Then, Peter would laugh at your reaction like he always does and will give you the same ‘I’m not sorry’ look and say “I’m sorry baby, let me make it up,” and he would pull you into a kiss that left you pushing him off you in a different way.

You would ask him for help with homework and he would walk you through it, sometimes explaining the same thing 4 times but slightly different each way so he could help you understand it the best way possible. He would kiss the tip on your nose, then your eyebrow and say “That’s it baby!” when he looked over your shoulder and watched you do the practice question he wrote down with no help.

You would look over at Peter and have that same exploding love feeling that built up so ferociously that you felt like you were seconds from death if you didn't kiss him, or feel his skin on yours in that moment. And you would kiss Peter, and he would eventually lay you back on his bed and slowly both of you would pull each other's clothes off.

So, usually you couldn’t wait to see him.

But, today you were stoic. No excited foot taps, no headphones in either, the thoughts in your head were loud enough to block out any surrounding sounds. You didn’t even tell Peter you were coming over, scared you would let the reasoning slip. You hated to surprise him with this but you were too. No, blindsided. You were blindsided.

“Hi.” Your words sounded timid. You looked at him in the doorway, eyebrows raised in surprise when he saw you behind the door.

He caught on immediately, “Hi. You okay?”

He pushed the door open and stepped to the side to have you enter. He noticed your silence in regard to his question. You pulled him into a tight hug, your arms wrapped around his middle and you squeezed, your head fully buried into his stomach, if you tried to get a big breath in your air was trapped in the cotton of his shirt. Peter let out a small ‘oof’ before wrapping his own arms around you.

“Hi.” You repeated, you closed your eyes against him. You could feel the tears gathering behind your eyelids.

Peter lent his mouth against the top of your head. He smelled your hair and whispered back, “Hi,” then repeated his question, “Are you alright?”

You gave him a final squeeze and pulled back. His brown doe eyes looked into yours, his eyes told you he was concerned he looked at your face and saw the frown, your eyes looked red, you looked nervous, scared even.

You swallowed hard, “Can we talk?”

Peter let you push him down by his shoulders unto his bed, he kept quiet and gave you his undivided attention. He watched you open your mouth, he could see the frustrated look on your face when you couldn’t form the words you wanted to say. He tilted his head slightly, giving you the ‘It’s okay, it’s just me’ look.

You looked down, not being able to look him in the eye in shame.

“I can’t do this.” You mumbled, trying to find the words.

“Do what?” Peter’s voice had an edge.

“This.” You motioned between the two of you.

“Use your words.” He sat straighter, bracing himself for the blow you were about to deliver.

He watched you as you let a few tears drop. You looked away from him, he shouldn’t have to go through this with you. He was a kid, and so were you. But he had more responsibilities than any other kid you could think of at this age, Spider-Man, being top of the class, juggling friends and May between giving you all the time in the world. He shouldn’t have to deal with this, nor should you. It was unfair.

You shook your head. If you spoke now the dam would break and you wouldn’t be able to say anything.

“Y/N, If you’re going to break up with me I need you to say it.” Peter spoke with authority and your eyes went wide.

“No! No! I’m not-” You dropped off, not even wanting to say the words.

“I’m not- I wouldn’t do that, okay?”

“I just-” You felt the tears coming, you couldn’t stop them. You broke into a sob, “Please don’t be mad at me.” You felt the air leave your lungs, you couldn’t fucking breathe, the room felt like it was closing in and all you wanted was Peter to hug you and tell you it would be okay. Because that’s what Peter did, he never knew what it was but the first instinct was always to say it would be okay because for the better part it usually would.

He pulled you down unto his lab by your hand and pushed you into his chest, letting his heartbeat fall into your ear. He ran a hand down your hair, he felt you sob and rack breaths against his shoulder. He was shushing you before you broke into a loop of half crying and half choking repeating the words “please don’t be mad at me,” and ‘i’m sorry,” over and over.

You noticed it 2 hours ago. It was all because you replaced the toilet paper.

You had gone into your bathroom cabinet looking for the extra toilet paper rolls you kept stashed underneath and you saw your tampon box. You thought, “Huh, I haven’t had my period yet this month.” And shrugged, it was no biggie, a few days late didn’t matter. You weren't on birth control, Peter used condoms and that was fine. You had a scheduled period without it being scheduled, usually it was around the same week each month, but when you actually thought about it you had to ask, ‘Wait. When was my last period?’

The instant panic set in, you looked at your phone calendar. 3 weeks. You were 3 weeks late. It wasn’t a few days, it wasn’t even a week off course. It was a month. You couldn’t be, no way. It happened to people sure, but not you, not Peter. It wasn’t supposed to happen, not like this.

You paced around your room at first in denial. ‘No, I’m not pre- Stop. Don’t even think about that, you’re fine, it’s okay. I’m not-” You looked at your phone, thumb hovering over Peter’s contact name, you almost called him, but settled for an in person meeting.

“I’m not mad, baby, tell me what’s wrong.” His voice was soft and smooth. It was caring, endearing even. It wasn’t fair for him.

“You’re going to hate me.”

He squeezed you. “Stop.” He always hated negative talk.

“Nothing you’re going to say will make me hate you.”

“This time it will.”

“Tell me.” He challenged you.

Your crying settled, you were better now. You were able to form sentences.

“I’m late.” You held your eyes shut, waiting for the explosion.

“For what?” He ran a hand up and down your back, he was soothing you while you were about to drop a bomb on him.

“No, I’m late.” You looked at him in the face. You had to be brave.

Peter looked confused.

“My period is late, Peter.” You spoke each word independently scared you would spew the words out so fast he would make you repeat them.

He took a deep breath in.

“Okay.”

“A month late, Peter.”

He nodded his head.

“Okay.”

He had to be strong right now, he might be slightly panicking on the inside but clearly you were the more upset one and it wouldn’t be good for both of you to be freaking out.

“Do you think you’re pregn-”

“Stop.” You cut him off.

“Don’t say it.”

He closed his mouth and tried to find his way around the question.

“Do you think you might be?” You both were not to say the P word.

“I don’t know.” Your words broke, the tears were about to start again.

“Did you take a test?”

You hated how adult Peter was right now, he was making you seem so immature and childish about this.

“Are you mad at me?” You wondered if that was the reason behind the blank face he wore.

“What? No. No, not at all. It takes two to make a b-” He tried to calm your fears but you stopped him again, you got louder this time. Not quite a yell but edging that way.

“Stop saying things like that!” You pushed away from him and stood up.

“Do you even understand this? Do you know what this means? Do you get what I’m saying?” You were upset with yourself but Peter was here to take the heat so right now it was his problem.

“Baby,” He tried.

“Don’t call me that right now.” Your tone was bitter. The word made you mad.

He sighed, “Okay, sweetheart. I-” He paused to find the right words but couldn’t. He felt defeated right now and he hasn’t felt like this ever. He was the fixer, he solved all your problems and was the one that made you feel better when you were in the dumps.

But this was a problem he couldn’t solve.

“I don’t know what you want me to say.” It was honest. He couldn’t make it better but he wasn’t trying to make it worse.

“I don’t know!” You exploded on him. He didn’t take it personally, he knew you were in crisis mode. “Just,” You pulled at the roots of your hair, desperate for your boyfriend to do something, make this go away, stop the panic and fear and shame.

“Just fix it!” You pleaded.

He stood and held you to him. Tears wet his shirt, he felt his own clouding up his eyes so he shut them.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know if I can fix this one.” His voice made him sound defeated. You broke him.

“You always fix it.” You reminded him.

“I know.” He kissed your forehead.

“Did you take a test?” He sounded more authoritative this time.

“No.”

“Okay. I can do that, I can get you one.” He felt a little happy he could do something for you.

“Okay.” You pulled from him.

“Okay?” He watched you nod at him.

“Get the good one. The expensive one, I don’t trust the one dollar ones.”

“Got it. What else?” He was putting his wallet in his back pocket, he would be going to a bodega not even a block down the street.

“Nothing.” You couldn’t imagine anything making this more bearable at the moment.

“Okay.” Peter nodded at you and looked you over, he hoped you would be okay the five minutes he would be gone. “I love you.” The words made you choke up. He still loved you, even now.

You smiled, he knew you needed to hear that.

“I love you too.” You watched him step out his bedroom door.

“Wait,” He turned to look at you, waiting for you to finish your thought.

He watched you grin shyly, “Can you get me a chocolate milk too?”

“Anything for you ba-” He cleared his throat, “darling.”

You nodded and watched him leave.

Peter returned in record timing pulling the chocolate milk from the bag, (the good expensive stuff too. Peter felt like you deserved the extra $2 splurge) and leaving the test hidden in the opaque plastic, you shouldn’t have to stare at it until you were ready to take it.

You took the bottle from him and twisted off the cap with a crack of the seal.

“Gonna have to crack open a cold one for this.” You cheers the empty space in front of you and down a quarter of it and pass it to Peter. He holds his hands out in a passing manner, “No, I’m trying to lay off the hard stuff.” You laughed and insisted he take it, “C’mon I think you deserve a shot after today.”

He sighed and looked around, “Alright, just one okay? Don’t let my sponsor know about this.”

You giggled while you watched him drink an equal amount before he handed it back and you replaced the cap.

“We’re gonna need this for later.” You placed the bottle on his nightstand.

You lent your head on his shoulder. Your voice is quiet, “We’re gonna be okay, right?”

“Yeah. We’re going to be just fine.” You nodded against him. You chose to believe him.

You stood and pulled the test from the bag. He got you the nice one like you said, 2 tests inside. It was the digital “Pregnant” or “Not Pregnant” one. No squinting at lines, saying “is that a double line or a single?”

You let out a heavy breath and looked at your boyfriend. How he is so calm right now is beyond you. You looked at the test again and the trip to the bathroom seemed long and lonely and you didn’t want to be alone. You gave him the sweet eyes that usually got you what you wanted.

“Can you come with me?”

He sat up like a spring, walking ahead of you. “Of course.”

You peed on the stick while Peter sat on the side of the tub and talked to you about something because you were pee shy and couldn’t do it in the silence of the room knowing Peter was right next to you.

Laying the test flat on the sink you asked Peter to set the timer for 5 minutes. You didn’t know how long 5 minutes could be until now.

You sat next to him thigh to thigh on the tub slinking your hand between his.

“Be honest. Are you freaking out just as much as I am?” You looked at him to see his reaction.

He laughed, more like a chuckle. “Oh yeah.”

“You’re better at hiding it than me.” You pushed the curls falling into his eyes away.

“You didn’t need me to freak out, you needed me to support you. And I do.” He squeezed your hand in his.

You didn’t want to ask but this was the reality of the situation.

“What happens if it’s positive?” You held your breath.

“I don’t know.” He wishes he could say more.

“Neither do I.” You were in the same boat.

If the ship was sinking you'd go down together.

“I love you. I will always love you no matter what, positive or not I'm in your corner.” He looked at you and let himself be scared.

“If it’s.. If I’m pregnant,” You almost choked on the word, it was the first time you said it.

“If I’m pregnant, I don’t want to keep it.” You refused to look at his face. This was the shame, the immediate thought crossed your mind the second you started to question it.

“Okay.” He nodded. He agreed. He accepted.

“You’re okay with that? Or are you just saying that because it’s what you think I want to hear?”

“It’s your body, your choice.” He didn’t give his opinion. You noticed that.

“No. It’s your baby too. You get a say in the matter.” You were not backing down.

He thought of his next words carefully.

“We’re not bad people for not wanting a baby right now.”

That was all you needed to hear from him. Conformation. He was in this with you.

His timer went off. You both looked at eachother, your heart felt like it stopped. You both sat for a moment, you both knew that this was the last moment before your lives changed. Positive would mean a whole new conversation about what was next and negative would mean you both needed to take a step back and reevaluate how you’ve been doing things.

You stood and shook your hands out. You blew out a breath.

“I’m gonna look now.” You still haven’t moved. You didn’t want to see the result.

You sat back down next to Peter.

“I’m sorry. I can’t.”

“Do you want me to look?”

You nodded, “Please.”

You watched him stand, walk to the sink and peer at the test. He turned and looked at you. You couldn’t read his face. You held your breath in anticipation.

“Negative.”

Both of you smiled at the same time.

“Oh thank fucking God!” You cheered and fist pumped.

“I thought my heart was going to fall out of my ass.” Peter breathed out.

“I’m not pregnant! We’re not pregnant!” You danced around and high 10 Peter.

He wrapped his arms around you for a hug, you both latched onto each other and held each other in silence. The moment needing no words.

“I’m getting on birth control ASAP.” You talked into his collar.

“I didn’t want to suggest it but I think that’s a very good idea.” He kissed your temple.

You pulled away and looked into his eyes. They were light and warm, you realized how much he internalized his emotions and thoughts so you could freak out.

“I love you. I love you more than you will ever know. Thank you for being here with me, I would’ve really lost it if you weren't here.”

Peter raised his eyebrows, “Oh, so that was you keeping it together?”

“Hey! I think I did pretty good.” You swat at his chest.

“If pretty good is hanging on by a thread, then you did an awesome job.”

You narrowed your eyes at him.

“Hey, I love you too, okay? More than you will ever know. I’m here for you no matter what.” He lent down to give you the first kiss since you arrived.

When you pulled away you looked at him and said, “You know what would be really good right now?”

“Hmm?” Peter looked at you like a love sick dope fiend.

“Celebratory chocolate milk.”

#recs #f: marvel #p: peter parker #l: oneshot #g: fluff #g: angst #a: webslingingslasher #pbp: oneshot #pbp: fluff #pbp: angst #pbp: webslingingslasher #read: november 2023

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annab-recs · 6 months

Text

what i read this month - oct. '23

❀ = nsfw/mature content, minors dni

reminder to read the warnings before a fic & to support writers & reblog :)

organized alphabetically by fandom, then by pairing, then by author

harry potter

— ron weasley —

the yule ball - @marvelslut16

type: oneshot, genre: angst, fluff summary: you wanted ron to ask to the yule ball but you get asked by someone else. jealous!ron ensues. commentary: the perfect mixture of jealousy and playfulness and love confession and cuteness all in one 😍

marvel

— peter parker —

peter p. blurb - @webslingingslasher

type: blurb, genre: hurt comfort summary: peter helps you grieve the loss of a loved one commentary: so sad yet so sweet 😭

peter p. blurb - @webslingingslasher

type: blurb, genre: fluff summary: you find out peter's hair is curly commentary: this was so cute like i need to read more of your stuff because i LOVED the two things i read this month

stranger things

— eddie munson —

no more tears - @aphrogeneias

type: oneshot, halloween, genre: fluff, hurt comfort summary: it’s halloween night, 1986. you want to celebrate your favorite holiday after the year you and your friends just had, but after being dumped by your, now ex, boyfriend a week before puts a damp on your plans. eddie munson, however, has a different plan for you commentary: i loved the dynamic between eddie and the reader in this one sooo much! and the payback andrew got was 🤌🏼

eddie m. blurb - @eiightysixbaby

type: blurb, friends to lovers, genre: fluff summary: play wrestling with eddie turns into more commentary: absolutely so frickin adorable 🤍

❀ what about you sweetheart? are you scared? - @lilacletter

type: oneshot, halloween, genre: fluff, smut summary: when your plans fall through with the younger kids, steve gets a brilliant idea. that you and the rest of the gang should go explore the old creel house. reluctantly, you all agree, having nothing better to do. eddie is quick to sneak away with you once you’re there, determined to find out how scared you really are. commentary: story - 10/10, smut - 10/10, and the ending is hilarious! if you love soft sweet eddie but also hot sexy eddie, this is the fic for you (update: op, unfortunately, deactivated so i can't link it, but believe me when i say this was a phenomenal fic)

i wanna be more part 1 & part 2 - @maxxxineminxxx

type: twoshot, genre: fluff, angst summary: y/n tells eddie she wants to join the cheer squad he has a bad reaction at first but then he calms down. y/n thinks everything is fine until she sees her replacement standing at eddies locker. they look close? & y/n attends the party she was unsure about going to, only to find out that eddie's there as well with his "girl?'' eddie is still ignoring y/n and she is determined to find out why. commentary: my heart was broken but then it was mended with part two ❤️‍🩹 love love love this!!!

— jonathan byers —

hurtless - @stveharringtn

type: also steve harrington x reader, oneshot, cheating (of the emotional variety, not physical), genre: angst, hurt comfort summary: after having an argument with jonathan about how he depends on nancy far more than he does on you, steve finds you once he's heard about your fight commentary: hurt my heart for the reader but it was so good

— steve harrington —

steve h. oneshot - @katsu28

type: oneshot, genre: fluff, angst summary: based on these prompts: "you called me your friend." "was i not supposed to say that?" "you really think i'm just your friend? after these last few weeks?" commentary: so well written and so easy to feel what the reader was going through and connect with her! 100000000/10 <3

steve h. oneshot - @lovebugism

type: oneshot, genre: fluff, hurt comfort summary: steve comforts you after a no good, really bad day commentary: steve is a sweetie pie and is the best protector/comforter in the world

steve h. blurb - @luveline

type: blurb, genre: fluff summary: you're used to doing all the chores and things since that's how it has been for you in past relationships. however, you come home to steve doing some of those chores and freak out about it commentary: another one for sweetie pie stevie 🥺🥰

hurtless - @stveharringtn

type: also jonathan byers x reader, oneshot, cheating (of the emotional variety, not physical), genre: angst, hurt comfort summary: after having an argument with jonathan about how he depends on nancy far more than he does on you, steve finds you once he's heard about your fight commentary: hurt my heart for the reader but it was so good

nail to the coffin - @thetargaryenbride

type: series, byers!reader au, genre: fluff, angst summary: y/n byers wondered what would end up being the death of the small town she lived in. she never expected that the last nail on the coffin would be hammered by monsters from another dimension who would end up hunting down her friends and family one by one… commentary: i finished season one, two, three, and i think i've got a couple chapters left in season four and i absolutely LOVE THIS!! the way the storyline is altered is so good and still fits the stranger things vibe

#what i read this month #read: october 2023

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annab-recs · 6 months

Text

Focus On My Heart (peter parker)

INTEREST₊˚ Peter Parker X Reader

SYNOPSIS‧₊˚ Reader also gets bit by a radioactive spider a bit later and goes through sensory overload during school, Peter comforts them through it.

WARNINGS(S)‧₊˚ Sensory overload

| masterlist | (requests open) (PLS REQUESTT) |

You gave the person behind you ten seconds to stop clicking their pen right behind your head. When you got to ten, you turned around to tell them to stop, but it wasn't them. Confused, you looked around, still hearing the sound, but the person behind you was asleep.

Your breathing quickened when it continued. Other sounds started to force their way through your ears. Someone was drumming their nails on the desk, the crinkling of a water bottle. Your breathing quickened when it continued, the ticking of the clock, then, worst of all, the bell.

The bell was defining. It rang through your ears aggressively, signaling it was time to leave and leaving you to stumble through the door.

The world was too loud, you could hear way too much. Every heartbeat, every whisper, every breath, every footstep, and more traveled through your senses at once.

Thump.

You covered your ears and could feel the tears in your eyes despite them being clenched shut. It was overwhelming your senses. Your heartbeat the fastest of them all. You could hear the blood rushing through your head and body.

The fly was buzzing across the hall, the sound of the lightbulb as the energy zapped rapidly, every footstep, every scratch, every heartbeat, every breath, every-

"Hey," a panicked voice stood out in the sea of noises. You tried to calm down, not wanting any attention, but you couldn't steady your breathing; it was out of control.

Scratch.

The feeling of hands on your shoulders shook you into a panicked state, the friction against your clothing onto your skin felt suffocating.

Thump

"Hey, it's ok," It was the voice again. Attempting to steady your breathing, you listened the best you could, "I know it's hard, and it feels like everything is overwhelming, but I need you to focus on my voice."

You clenched your fists, trying your hardest to focus.

Tick, tick, tick…

"Please," they said, pulling your hands out of their clenched form and holding them lightly. "Focus on me, find my heartbeat." They brought your hand to their chest.

The second your hand touched their chest, you felt everything inside: heartbeat, breathing, the blood running through their veins, everything. You couldn't do it. The best you could do was shake your head. You couldn't; there were too many people, too many sounds, too many everything.

"You need to focus, their voice grew desperate. "You can feel everything, and I know, but your hand is directly on my heart, find it and focus, it'll help."

In all of the chaos going on inside your head, you directed all your energy to your palm through your pounding headache. You had to find it, to focus.

Tick, tick…

Scratch…

Buzz…

Thump,

Thump, There.

The fight to slow down your breathing became easier.

"That's it," you then recognized the voice as Peter. "Stay focused on my heart."

You would never tell him, but his voice calmed you down more than the sound of his heart ever could.

"Breathe with me."

The thought of opening your eyes terrified you, to go through the same thing again. You shook your head slowly in protest, trying to keep the composure you fought so hard to gain.

You felt a hand cup over your eyes, "Start small."

Your eyelashes brushed Peter's palm as you opened your eyes, through a small crack of his fingers, you could see his brown eyes full of concern. How did he know what to do? So many questions filled your brain as you became more aware of your surroundings. You were in an empty classroom with the lights off. You almost laughed at the possibility of someone walking in and seeing this.

Peter must've noticed that you were trying to look around more. "I'm gonna bring my hand down."

You nodded, and he took it down slowly. His eyes met yours in the dark. His hair was slightly messed up. His facial expression was twisted into something you've never seen on him, before you could figure it out, he looked down.

You almost laughed at the possibility of someone walking in and seeing this; they would definitely get the wrong idea. But your smirk fell once you followed Peter's gaze to his now bloody shirt.

You looked down at your palms, and blood flowed out of indents made by your nails. You didn't notice that you were crying until he brought his hand to your face to wipe your tears. Once he did, his face read all of the unanswered questions that you had. "Later," he dismissed it. "The nurse is out; let's get this clean."

You didn't like the way his voice spoke to you like you were about to break. You hated seeming vulnerable, but you do owe it to Peter for helping you. You didn't know what you would have done without him. You appreciated it, so you said nothing while he pulled out a small kit from his backpack, unraveling the supplies.

"Breathe for this," he warned. The cleansing wipe was centimeters away from your skin, and you nodded.

It stung, but you were too exhausted to show it, the earlier events taking its toll on you. Peter cleaned the small indents out like he had years of experience doing this with unusual gentleness. When he was done, it seemed like he wanted to say something.

"Do you- Do you want to talk about it?"

You looked up, "No," but he gave you an unconvinced look back. You took a deep breath and looked at him, your voice trembling slightly, "Yeah, I think I do. It's just… I don't even know where to start. It's like everything suddenly became too much, and I couldn't handle it."

Peter nodded, understanding, and put away the first aid kit. He sat down beside you, and you felt a sense of comfort in his presence. "It's something I went through a while ago," he admitted gently. That sentence left you with so many questions, but you decided against asking them at the moment. As you sat there in the dimly lit classroom, you couldn't help but feel more than grateful for Peter. He had a way of calming you down and making you feel safe that didn't make any sense. The episode had left you drained, but you knew you weren't alone, and you didn't have to face it all by yourself.

A comfortable silence washed over the dark room as you leaned on his shoulder and fell into a comfortable sleep.

| masterlist | (requests open) |

#recs #f: marvel #p: peter parker #l: oneshot #g: hurt comfort #a: unpublishediary #pbp: oneshot #pbp: hurt comfort #pbp: unpublishediary #read: november 2023

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annab-recs · 6 months

Note

☕️ bradley ‘rooster’ bradshaw and "you know we need to talk." "about?" "i don't know...last night, maybe?"

bradley "rooster" bradshaw x mitchell!reader, mentions of vomiting, mentions of pregnancy, 1.9k

You shouldn’t have been here at Rooster’s place at this time of night. You should’ve been asleep, in bed, but instead you were here, knocking on his door in the middle of the night, all because you’d just discovered something not even two hours ago that would change the trajectory of not only your life, but probably Rooster’s too.

It took a while, but he finally pulled open the door after your incessant knocking, rubbing his eye furiously as he peered out at who the hell was knocking on his door at three in the morning.

His hair was a riot, brown curls sticking out every which way, eyes bleary. He’d been asleep—of course he was. Anyone in their right mind would be. Except you weren’t really in your right mind right now. You were damn near close to losing it, trying your hardest not to spiral.

“Y/N? What are you—why are you awake? What’re you doing here?” He yawned, scratching his chest groggily. When you didn’t answer, just stared at him like something was wrong, he gave his head a quick shake to wake himself up a bit. “Are you okay? What—come in, come inside, please.”

You obliged, stepping past him and over the threshold into his apartment wordlessly.

“Can I make you some coffee—no, coffee would probably be bad right now. Tea? Water?” He offered, gesturing you towards the kitchen. You settled at one of the barstools in front of the counter, leaning on your elbows, folding your hands. “Not really sure what this situation calls for. Seriously, are you okay? You look…not okay.”

“I’m pregnant.” You blurted. Well, there went easing into the conversation. Bradley’s eyebrows flew sky high. But wait, there was more! “And I’m pretty sure you’re the father.”

He blinked at you owlishly, utterly and completely dumbfounded. “Pretty sure? How sure is pretty sure?”

“Entirely sure, actually. You’re the only guy I’ve been with in a really long time, so either it was a ghost, or it was you.”

That was something you’d been wracking your brain for since the second you saw the three lines on the test. One night, four or five weeks ago, after some sort of celebration at the Hard Deck that you couldn’t even remember now.

You remembered leaving the bar with Rooster, taking him home with you, kissing him a lot. It was entirely consensual, that much you could recall. But anything after that up until when you’d first started to feel icky was a blank.

You honestly didn’t even consider the possibility that you were in fact pregnant until your friend suggested it yesterday. Which is why you took the test. Never did you once think it would turn out positive.

It wasn’t that you didn’t think Rooster would be a good father. In fact, out of everyone you’d hooked up with over the years, he was probably the best option. Not that you really had any option, at this point. It was simple, plain as day. You were pregnant, and Rooster was the father.

Rooster made a face. “Okay, gross. But you took a test? And it was positive?”

“No, it came to me in a dream.” You snapped, glaring at him. “Yes, I took a test! I took three—all positive!”

“Alright! Okay, that’s—wow, okay. That’s definitely…something to take in.”

“I don’t know what to do.” You said quietly, staring hard at the marble countertop.

“Look, it’s late, we’re both tired. We don’t have to do anything right now, we don’t need to make any decisions right now. We have time.” He replied, shaking his head. We. He kept saying we, like he was planning on sticking around. You weren’t sure how to feel about it. “Why don’t you stay the night here and we can talk about this more in the morning?”

You shook your head quickly. “No, I can’t, I have to be home to set up for the party—oh my god, the party! My dad.”

“Your dad? What—Y/N, I’m pretty sure he’ll understand. Mav’s more modern than you give him credit for.”

“Understand? Understand what?” You asked incredulously. Then you got what he was trying to say, and you let out a humorless laugh. “Rooster, we’re not telling him. We can’t tell him!”

Your dad’s birthday party was tomorrow, and there were so many things you had to set up and do, this was probably the worst time for you to deal with everything going on right now. It wasn’t every day Pete “Maverick” Mitchell turned sixty. You needed everything to be perfect, and this brand new unexpected news was definitely not that.

Rooster could tell you were starting to panic a little from the weight of everything, so he just went along with what you said, reaching over the counter to cover your hand with his. “Everything is gonna be fine, okay? Just get some rest. Please. Tomorrow’s gonna be a busy day, and you need to sleep.”

You nodded distractedly, barely registering him guiding you towards the guest bedroom and settling you into bed. And maybe you were more tired than you thought, because your eyes fell shut on their own accord, and you were out like a light before Rooster even had the chance to close the door behind him.

-------

The party was going great so far. There was food, music, all your dad’s Navy buddies. Everything was running smoothly, and you definitely weren’t thinking about your conversation with Rooster last night, or the fact that you left his house before the sun even rose to avoid talking about the situation even more.

That was a lie. You couldn’t stop thinking of it, even as you smiled at every one of your dad’s friends jostling him about how old he’d gotten to be completely unaware of the surprise party his daughter planned for him.

With every conversation about what you’d been up to in life lately, you thought about Rooster. The look on his face when you broke the news to him. The way he must’ve felt when he woke up and you were gone. He was probably mad at you, and you honestly couldn’t blame him.

Like he knew it was him on your mind, Rooster materialized next to you, busying himself with browsing the drinks in the cooler to make it look like everything was normal. “Y/N.”

“Enjoying the party?” You asked casually, crossing your arms over your chest. Rooster scoffed softly.

“You know we need to talk.”

Your smile wavered for a split second before returning in full force. You glanced over at him briefly, flicking from his very serious face then back to the party. “About?”

“I don’t know…last night, maybe? You left before I woke up.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Bullshit.”

“Nothing happened last night, Rooster.”

“So you’re telling me you’re not pregnant right now.”

“Keep your voice down.” You hissed. Rooster shot a pointed look at you and you caved, grabbing him by the arm and yanking him towards a more secluded area of the backyard. “You wanna talk? Fine. Talk.”

“You said the baby was mine. That’s not just something I can forget, Y/N.”

“And I’m not asking you to forget, I’m asking you to leave it alone for now. It’s my dad’s birthday, Bradshaw. Can’t we just let him have the day before we blow up his entire world?”

“Okay. Yeah, that’s fine. Dropping it for now.” Rooster conceded, holding his hands up in surrender. In reality, all he wanted to do was figure things out, but he could admit that this wasn’t quite the best place nor time to do it. “What can I do to help you right now?”

“I think I’m gonna be sick.”

“Whoa, hey, I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to stress you out any more, I just—”

“No, Rooster, I’m—” You felt the bile rising in your throat alarmingly quick, and before you could even your sentence, you scrambled for the nearest bush to throw up.

“Oh shit!” Rooster lunged forward, gathering your hair out of your face back towards the nape of your neck as you let it all out. You felt the warmth of his hand on your back, rubbing smooth circles along your spine.

“Fuck.” You groaned, bracing your hands on your knees. “Please tell me no one saw that.”

“Uh…” Rooster’s voice was hesitant and you turned your head, only to be met with the one person you didn’t want seeing you like this. Just your luck that even up there in age, that Navy instilled situational awareness never faded.

“Honey? You alright?” Your dad looked beyond worried, and before you knew it, you were sat down on the living room couch with your father fussing over you, fluffing your pillows, covering you with a blanket, the works. Rooster was hovering over in the corner.

“Dad, I’m fine! I probably had some bad oysters or something at girls’ night yesterday.” You sighed, ducking away from his attempt at feeling your forehead. As much as you didn’t enjoy lying straight to his face, telling him it was most likely a pregnancy symptom was definitely out of the question. “Go back, enjoy your party, please.”

“I should really stay, what if—”

“I’m in good hands, Dad. Rooster’s got me covered.”

“I’ll take the best care of her, Mav, don’t you worry.”

“No doubt in my mind you will.” He clapped Rooster on the shoulder, giving him a sharp nod. He turned to you. “Drink something. Eat something. I’ll check back in later. Love you, sweetheart.”

“Love you too, Dad.”

After waving everybody back to the festivities with assurances that you just needed to lay down for a bit and would be just fine, Rooster reappeared in the doorway a little while later, this time bearing gifts.

“Crackers and ginger ale. Eat them, they’ll help.” He insisted, letting you take the plastic cup from him. “Stole them from the cooler and snack table. Who knew an old man’s birthday party would have just what I was looking for?”

You managed a meager smile, but when you took a tiny sip of the soda, you found that it actually did help a bit. “How’d you know what I needed?”

Rooster rubbed the back of his neck, pressing his lips together with a haphazard shrug. “My mom. When she got sick, they always seemed to help with the nausea. Made sure we were always stocked and ready for whenever she needed it.”

“I wanna keep the baby, Rooster.” You blurted. Rooster nearly choked on his own saliva in surprise.

“You—you do?”

“And I want you to be there every step of the way.” You continued, fidgeting with the stray thread at the edge of your blanket. He took a seat next to you on the couch, rubbing his hands over his legs nervously. “Only if that’s what you want, though. I’m not trying to force your hand or baby trap or anything like that. It’s your choice, completely. But…I’d like it if our kid knew their father. In whatever capacity you’re comfortable with.”

“So, like co-parents? Or…more?” Rooster said slowly, gauging your reaction with wide, almost nervous eyes.

“I’m open to more.” You replied. Maybe you were reading too much into it, but he seemed to look very pleased with that. “I don’t know what this is gonna be like, for either of us, but I like to think we’ll get through it all. Together.”

He nodded, sliding his hand into yours and squeezing. “Together.” What that together entailed, you weren’t all too sure. And although you were nervous as hell about what laid ahead, you were looking forward to finding out.

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#recs #f: top gun maverick #p: bradley bradshaw #l: oneshot #g: fluff #g: hurt comfort #au: pregnant reader #au: mitchell reader #a: katsu28 #brb: oneshot #brb: fluff #brb: hurt comfort #brb: pregnant reader #brb: mitchell reader #brb: katsu28 #read: november 2023

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annab-recs · 6 months

Text

Nail To The Coffin - S4 - Chapter 6

Warnings: a little blood, Vecna

Pairing: Steve Harrington x f!Byers!Reader

Word Count: 6902

𝐀𝐍: 𝘐 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘥 𝘢 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘑𝘢𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘰𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘨𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘵 𝘙𝘦𝘦𝘧𝘦𝘳 𝘙𝘪𝘤𝘬'𝘴 𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘦. 𝘐 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘥 𝘢 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘧𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘺, 𝘐 𝘮𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘧𝘪𝘵 𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩. 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯'𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺 𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘰𝘰𝘯. 𝘑𝘶𝘴𝘵 3-4 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘦'𝘭𝘭 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘢𝘪𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘰𝘯 5. 𝘐'𝘮 𝘴𝘰 𝘦𝘹𝘤𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦, 𝘐 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘱 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘢𝘩𝘢. 𝘓𝘦𝘵'𝘴 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘧𝘭𝘺 𝘧𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘸𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬.

𝐀𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬, 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐝𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐢𝐟 𝐈’𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐎𝐎𝐂 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲. 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘏𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘪𝘵! 🖤 🥀

Masterlist || Chapter 5 || Chapter 7

"Alright, no more running away," the sound of a door being thrown open could be heard, followed by multiple drumming footsteps. "Something is going on with you and I tried to be understanding but not anymore, Y/N! Not anymore!" Steve spoke with a raised tone as he followed you into the house, walking as briskly as you, not wanting to give you the opportunity to run away from his questions and hide in your room. He grabbed you by the elbow and forcefully turned you around. "Tell me what's going on with you or I'm gonna pick you up, throw you in the car, drive to California, and tell your family!" he pressed, panic and worry swirling deep into his irises as the uncertainty and the unknown were driving him insane.

The others could only watch the unfolding scene with unease and tension, not knowing what to say or if they should intervene in the first place. It seemed like a personal problem between two lovers but at the same time, it was a problem that could affect the whole party.

"Alright, fine!" you finally burst, giving up. "Fine!" you wrenched your arm out of his grasp and took a step back, trying to calm your elaborate breathing. "It's him, okay? Those visions that I'm having...it's all Vecna," you blurted out a confession that almost made you choke, and everyone's faces fell and blanched. "It's always been Vecna,” your tone simmered down to a defeated mumble and the others shared fearful, concerned looks.

"I knew it," whispered Max and Steve rubbed the bridge of his nose in frustration.

"Why didn't you say anything?" he asked. "And if you say it's because you didn't want to worry us, I'll-"

"I didn't say anything because I was afraid," you spilled out and he furrowed his brows in confusion.

"Afraid? Afraid of what?" he lifted his hands and shrugged his shoulders.

"I was afraid that...if I said it out loud...if I admitted it to myself and to everyone else...I would be solidifying everything. My fate would be set in stone and...I'd really die," you confessed with a long sigh as you leaned against the sofa and Steve's eyes softened. "I just didn't want to accept reality, I guess," you looked at your feet. "Or maybe I thought I could deal with him alone and not have you freak out," you threw your arms weakly. "I know it may sound silly but, I suppose all reasons combined had me keep my mouth shut."

Steve let out a sigh before he took a couple of steps closer and grasped your arms, making you look at him.

"Yeah, you're right. I am...totally freaking out," he admitted in distress. "I don't know if that's gonna mess with my head, with the decisions I may make in order to protect you, or with any future actions I may do, but I'd rather know the truth and freak out than not know anything and freak out even more and-and don't know what to do if-" he gulped. "-when...something bad eventually happens to you. You've done this before already and you've seen the results. Don't ever hide things from us," he put a strand of hair behind your ear and rubbed your arms up and down.

"Not only from us," added Eddie as he also shortened the distance between you and came to stand by Steve's side. "You're hiding from yourself, man. And you should know better than anyone that confronting things head-on instead of running from the responsibility of accepting them is the right thing to do. I know I'm not one to talk," he let out a sardonic snort. "I always run away and refuse to accept shit...but I learned a thing or two from all of you,” he smiled. “And hey, as long as I give good advice, does it matter if I myself follow it or not? It's important that you do," he put a hand on your shoulder and squeezed reassuringly, making a smile break on your face and a short laugh slip past your lips.

"I didn't think I'd live to see you two become mature like that," you commented and the boys snorted and looked at one another knowingly before back at you and you didn't hesitate to pull them in a big hug. "Thank you," you muttered and they rubbed your back soothingly, with Steve planting a kiss on the side of your neck.

"Well," commented Dustin. "Now that we got that covered, what are we supposed to do? We have not one but two people to worry about- Ow!" he exclaimed after Max elbowed him in the side and looked at her in outrage.

"Jesus, and then you wonder why Y/N doesn't tell you shit. You're all acting like a bunch of kindergarteners."

"Uhm, excuse me," exclaimed Eddie as he slowly turned around and lifted a finger, looking her up and down scandalized as if she had just personally offended him. "Didn't you just hear what Y/N said?"

"Yeah, I did," she crossed her arms and lifted an eyebrow. "She said you've matured but didn't specify the level of maturity you possess," she shrugged as a smirk grew on her face and Eddie narrowed his eyes.

It was all in good nature, of course. They were messing around to diffuse the worry and tension that had doubled after your announcement and had everyone in an iron chokehold.

Before anyone could say anything else, the phone rang and you rushed to answer it.

"Y/N?"

"Uncle Calvin?"

"Thank God," he let out a relieved breath. "You're home. You're all home, right?" he asked and your forehead wrinkled.

"Yes, all of us are home. Why? Did something happen?"

"I'm afraid it has but...I can't really talk about it right now. I'll call you tomorrow, alright? Meanwhile, you just stay home and make sure you're safe," he instructed which left you with more questions than answers, and dread washed over you.

"Uhm...alright. See you tomorrow then," you bid him goodbye before the line was cut off and you slowly put the device back in its place, still shocked and still trying to get a grasp on what was going on and what he just told you.

"Y/N/N?" Nancy snapped you out of it and you looked at her and the others who were looking back at you expectantly. "What is it?"

"I think there's been another murder."

In the end, you couldn't really squash the dread and curiosity that had overwhelmed you. You told the others to stay put, to watch out and call you if anything happened, and rushed out of the house, with Steve hot on your heels, having insisted on coming with you. The two of you got into his car and drove off towards the police station, hoping to find Calvin there and ask him about the situation at hand.

What you definitely didn't expect to see after you stormed inside, or rather - who, was a shaking, wet, scared-shitless Jason Carver.

"Y/N? Harrington?" Calvin and Phil looked at you with surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"We just got worried. I mean, you left us with a very vague message and we just really needed to know what was going on," you said hesitantly, eyes darting between him and Jason, who was looking at you with suspicion and simmering anger, and he sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose like a typical overworked parent who had to deal with his two curious, naughty kids.

"So," began Steve as he put his hands on his hips. "What happened exactly?"

Calvin and Phil shared a look before the latter motioned for you to follow him into the other room, evidently not wishing to speak about it in front of the scared teen.

"We got a call from Jason," explained the man once you were out of earshot. "Apparently, he and his friend Patrick had been looking for Eddie everywhere. They were at Reefer Rick's house when it happened."

"When what happened?" asked Steve and Phil sighed.

"Patrick was murdered," he revealed and your eyes widened.

You did suspect there was another murder but you still had some hopes that it wouldn't be the case, that maybe Calvin had called to warn you to stay safe because they found ‘clues’ or whatever. You didn’t want to believe that another murder would take place this soon. And you didn’t want to believe it was Patrick of all people. You actually liked Patrick. He was a good guy and was not as impulsive and harsh as most of the other basketball players. He was probably one of the very few decent guys out of the whole team.

He didn’t deserve such an ending.

None of them did.

"How-" you cleared your throat. "How did it happen?"

"Well, according to Jason something lifted him in the air, and then his bones snapped. We, uh, saw the body. It was quite disturbing," his face scrunched up in both disgust and sympathy. "But what doesn't add up is how exactly it happened. Like, the boy is hella convinced that the devil himself is running loose in this town and causing all of this. It's crazy," he shook his head. "We decided to bring him here and away from the crime scene because we thought it would make it a bit easier for him but he's still very much heavily impacted by it all and is speaking nonsense."

You almost wanted to let out a laugh at the irony. If only he knew how close to the truth Jason actually was he was probably going to resign.

"Y/N?" Steve called after you when you walked away and went back into the room Jason was being interrogated in.

You spared a moment to take a good look at him. He looked worse for wear - a far cry from the confident, energetic, pompous, high-maintenance boy you were used to seeing when you'd look at him. Now he seemed like a host of Death itself, all color drained from his face, hands shaking, leg bouncing, eyes red, hair disheveled. You would've taken pity on him had he actually been a decent human being and had he not begun a hunt for your best friend's head.

Yet, despite everything that happened, you still felt compelled to apologize for what he was going through. He was a total asshole but he didn't deserve to lose his girlfriend and one of his best friends in the span of a couple of days and in front of his very eyes. Somehow you felt responsible for it all. Was it because you've been tied to Vecna and the supernatural world for years now? Was it because you've failed at defeating this alien monster three times in a row or because of something else you didn't know. But you felt guilty.

"Hey," you greeted quietly and Jason's head snapped in your direction. "I'm really sorry about Patrick," you sent him an apologetic, understanding look and he held your gaze before looking down at the table, lips pursing angrily.

"You know, Patrick was fine at one point,” he spoke out raspily. “Then, all of a sudden he began seeing hallucinations. He told me he saw the disfigured form of his father in Reefer Rick's house, while we were looking for Eddie. He ran outside and we followed him because we got worried. Then he said... no, actually he didn't say anything, he just looked at the forest and panicked. I didn't see anything so I didn't believe him. I thought he was mad when he began running in the opposite direction, towards the water, as if he was trying to escape from...from a demon or something... I don't know what he was thinking, maybe he thought the water would be safer, that whatever he saw wouldn't follow him in there...but his swimming stopped all of the blue and...and something...something lifted him in the air a-and...his bones started to snap," divulged the boy with shaky voice. "I'm telling you. He was possessed," he looked up and met the skeptical eyes of the police. "Interesting how it happened right after I threatened you," he growled, eyes snapping to you, glaring right into your soul.

"Carver-" began Calvin but the boy was quick to interrupt.

"There is a satanic cult in this town!" he yelled as he threw the blanket on the floor and stood up. "And they are doing rituals, summoning demons, possessing innocent people just to sacrifice them to the devil. And the police is in on it," he grit out. "That's why we still have no suspect and we never will because you won't reveal the names of the perpetrators!"

"I advise you to be careful in what you say, son," spoke out Calvin.

"Why? Are you going to arrest me?" he scrunched up his nose like a rabid dog and the man sighed.

"No, but those accusations are preposterous. You need to rest and rethink everything before you go up against anyone you may suspect. Throwing around random accusations and delivering justice only you're convinced into will only get you and others into unnecessary trouble," the man put a hand on Jason's shoulder. "I understand you're upset. You just went through a horrible ordeal and you're confused. Just go home and rest for now. We'll find out what's truly happening and catch the perpetrator."

The boy sniffed and nodded mockingly before taking a couple of steps towards Phil who was waving his hand, beckoning for Jason to follow him.

"This isn't over," muttered the boy lowly when he passed by you. "I know you're in on it, just like that freak. And I'll come for you all," he all but spat out and you shut your eyes as you tried to compose yourself and not blow up in his face again. He was just so infuriating and always managed to push your buttons.

"Son," Calvin called out warningly.

Jason didn't say anything else. He just kept glaring at everyone and everything and begrudgingly allowed Phil to escort him outside in order to drive him home.

"Eddie with you?" asked Calvin after they left and you nodded. "Good. I think the last incident confirms he's not the culprit."

"Are you telling me you were still suspicious even after we vouched for him?" you lifted an eyebrow incredulously and he only smiled a little, shrugging.

"I'm a cop, that's my job."

After this whole ordeal ended, you returned home and informed everyone of what you had learned and seen.

Lucas took the news hard. He seemed to like Patrick and perhaps the two were close. The boy locked himself in one of the rooms, requesting to be left alone for a while and you were all understanding about it and gave him the space he needed.

Everyone else did pretty much the same afterward. Nobody was even in the mood for dinner tonight, all of you having lost appetite after today's events.

"You okay, man? I feel like you smoked a whole pack in the last couple of hours," commented Steve reluctantly as he observed the nervous ball that Eddie had turned into.

It seemed like the two of them were the only ones who had stayed in the living room after everyone else retreated for the night.

"I'm juust-" he dragged out the words while blowing out a thick cloud of smoke, which made Steve scrunch his face and wave with his hand in order to disperse it. "-trying to keep my calm, that's all."

Steve let out a sigh before he approached Eddie. He had been pacing by the window until now, stopping only to put out the cigarette in the ashtray that was overflowing, and Steve leaned against the wall, observing him quietly for a moment.

"C'mon, spill it out," he urged him and Eddie lifted a brow in confusion. "Spill it out. What's bothering you?" clarified Steve and Eddie looked away.

"It's nothing...I just," he sighed heavily and glued his palms together, pressing them against his face as if in silent prayer. "You know, Chrissy was a kind girl,” In the end he chose to spill it all out. “I wasn’t friends with her but I did get to meet her once thanks to Y/N. She was a good person. And I,” his voice raised, hands running through his hair. “I…failed to protect her when she needed it most,” he snarled with self-disdain as his hand slid down his face, fingers curling in half a fist that rested a top of his lips while his eyes stared ahead with burning anger, fear, misery, and guilt. “And now the same thing is happening to Y/N and…I’m just…scared I’ll fail her too,” he admitted bitterly and Steve hummed.

“You love her, don’t you?” he asked after a moment of silence and Eddie’s head snapped to look at the boy, eyes wide with shock and unease, body chilling to the bone, lips twitching as if he wanted to say something but the words got stuck in his throat. “I think I’ve known for some time, man. No need to deny it.”

“Is it that obvious?” muttered the boy, cheeks heating, and Steve chuckled.

“Kinda…I think so,” he shrugged. “But, it’s fine,” he said calmly and Eddie’s eyebrows furrowed.

“What?”

“I mean…don’t get me wrong, it’s not like I don’t feel jealous or whatever,” he rubbed the back of his neck as an awkward smile bloomed on his face. “But I just thought that if Y/N has another person who loves her just as much as I do, she’ll never be alone and she’ll always have someone to look after her. Not that the rest of the group or her family wouldn’t look after her,” he was quick to say as he gesticulated. “It’s just that, you know what I mean. Lucas would prioritize Max. Dustin, I love the kid but he can’t do much, I mean, he’s a kid, Robin and Nancy are always off to somewhere else, and Y/N’s family, El, and Mike are not even here, so,” he drawled. “If something happens to me, it’s good to know she has another, what was it that Billy used to say, knight in shining armor to look after her and only her,” he smiled at the flabbergasted boy.

“S-so,” he gulped, voice trembling slightly. “No hard feelings?” he asked and Steve chuckled, kicking off the wall.

“No hard feelings,” he squeezed Eddie’s shoulder and gave it two pats before he left the living room and headed for your bedroom, wishing to hold you more than anything else.

But when he rounded the corner of the corridor, he almost let out a shout when he saw you standing there, leaning against the wall with crossed arms, watery eyes glistening on the moonlight that peeked from the windows and showered the rooms with soft light.

“Jesus,” he whispered before you grabbed him by the wrist and all but dragged him into your room. “Did you, uhm…d-did you hear any of this?” he asked hesitantly.

“All of it,” you giggled and he groaned, running his hands over his face in obvious abashment. “Now, don’t be embarrassed,” you cooed. “I think what you did was very wholesome,” your hand went to caress his flushed cheek before it moved to comb through his hair and smooth it out. “I’m proud of you, Steve,” you said and his heart fluttered.

“It wasn’t anything special,” he muttered.

“But you’re wrong,” you grinned as you leaned and pressed your lips against his. “You’re too considerate, understanding, and ready to do anything for the people you love. Those qualities I cherish a lot. They are one of the many reasons why I love you so much,” you spoke in between the kisses and you could see he was beginning to swell with happiness at the praises.

“I just wish things weren’t as complicated and there wasn’t an alien trying to murder us all…again.”

“Preach it, baby.”

The Following Morning

“Alright, so, what do we do?” asked Robin before biting down on a toast smeared with strawberry jam and was met with crickets.

Nobody seemed to know what action your group was supposed to take next and that was quite scary. Vecna was still very much unreachable and you had no idea what to do about it. The house proved to be quite useless so far and you were back on square one.

“Well, first thing first, I suggest we leave the house,” called out Steve and everyone shot him weird looks except you.

“No, he’s right. Last night at the station? Remember what Jason said?” you reminded them and their faces fell in realization. “This guy is batshit crazy. I don’t doubt for a second that he’s gonna come here and look for us. Frankly, I don’t wanna deal with his bullshit.”

“Okay, but…where do we go?” asked Robin. “I mean, he and his group of ninnies are gonna be tearing through the whole damn town to find us.”

“Skull Rock,” piped in Steve and you snapped your fingers with approval.

“Right! It’s a good hiding spot and it’s in the outskirts of the town but not too far. It’s perfect.”

“Then what are we waiting for? Let’s get going.”

After you packed your leather backpack with all the essentials you might possibly need, put on your headphones, walkman, and stacked yourself with cassettes of your most favorite songs, you threw it over your shoulder and followed the others out. The group split, half of it going in Nancy’s car and the other half in Steve’s. A short, silent drive later, you found yourselves walking the woods, heading for Skull Rock.

“Oh, my God,” exclaimed Robin silently as she walked behind you and Nancy. “They’re so adorable. I just wanna squeeze ‘em, you know?” she asked, referring to Lucas and Max.

“Right,” you chuckled as you popped a cigarette in your mouth and lit it up, taking your headphones off so you could better listen to the girls, not wishing to be left out of any girly conversations they might conduct as it was something you haven’t had in some time. “They truly are.”

“It’s always a sight to behold. Rekindling of old flames, relationships being fixed,” she added. “Not that this is a hint or anything,” she was quick to wave her hands in dismissal and Nancy lifted a brow. “But even if it was, am I truly wrong about it? I just want my friends to be happy.”

“You think I’m not happy?” inquired Nancy incredulously and Robin shrugged.

“I-I’m sure you are. It’s just…the other day in the library I mentioned Jonathan and you sort of flinched or winced or something like-”

“I didn’t flinch or wince,” she interrupted, forehead scrunching up. “Jonathan and I are fine,” she nodded her head, her eyes darting between your unreadable expression and Robin’s unconvinced one.

“Okay,” said the brunette.

“We’re good!”

“Right.”

There was a tense silence for a while before Nancy sighed and kept on walking.

“It’s just…He was supposed to be here for the break,” she began. “And then he backed out at the last minute for some vague, mumbly Jonathan reason,” she explained exasperatedly and you frowned as you fell in step with her, leaves crunching under your boots. “And, to be honest, I’m not even that surprised because I’ve been feeling him pulling away lately and I don’t know if it’s because we’re 2000 miles away or if he met someone new or what. And now I can’t even find out because apparently he’s blown up his family’s house phone or something,” she bit out and threw her arm in irritation. “So, yeah, if…if the mention of his name caused a slight muscle spasm on my face, that’s probably why,” she admitted before she turned to look at you with an apologetic expression. “I’m so sorry Y/N/N.”

“No, it’s okay. I understand,” you reassured her and her stance visibly relaxed. “Honestly, he shouldn’t have backed out. I tried to talk to him about it but he’s been acting so weird these past months, like he’s just a shell and his mind is somewhere else,” you sighed in frustration, blowing some smoke in the process. “Frankly, he kinda seems high all the time and for the love of me, I can’t understand what’s going on in his head. But there’s one thing I’m absolutely sure of and that is, he hasn’t found anyone new. I promise you that. You’re the one and only girl that has captured his heart,” you sent her a smile and she returned it despite her low spirits. “Once I go back to LA, I’ll talk to him. Even if he doesn’t want to, I’ll wrench it out of him if I must. He can’t ignore you and run from responsibility forever,” you huffed as you put out the cigarette and put the butt away into the pocket of your black leather jacket, not wanting to leave a trail of garbage in the forest.

“Thank you, Y/N,” she said sincerely and you winked.

“Bada bing, bada boom! There it is, Henderson!” exclaimed Steve and you rolled your eyes at the silly little competition Dustin and Steve had engaged in since you stepped out of the cars and began looking for the place. “In your face, man. In your stupid, cocky little face!”

Dustin was so convinced he’d be able to find it with his compass but Steve insisted you didn’t need a compass because he knew where the place was better than anyone. Still, you couldn’t help but smile at their antics. You needed something like that to lighten up the mood once in a while.

“Doesn’t make sense,” complained the boy.

“Yeah, yeah,” waved him off Steve with a smug look. “Even with it staring you in the face, you still can’t admit it,” he shook his head as he looked at the huge boulder. “Can’t admit you’re wrong, you butthead.”

“I concur,” Eddie jumped on top of a big rock and put his hands in his jeans’ back pockets, smirking down at the boy in question. “You, Dustin Henderson, are a total butthead.”

“Hey, cut it out. Don’t bully my child,” you scoffed as you marched over to Dustin and threw an arm around his shoulder, bringing him closer to you. “Don’t you have anything better to do?” you asked challengingly.

“Well, I can name one good thing I’d like to be doing right now if it weren’t for Vecna,” he lifted his eyebrows and gave you a knowing look, making your jaw hit the floor and the others looked on with wide eyes before they exploded in laughter.

“Steve Harrington! I’ll wash that mouth with soap!”

“Okay, let’s think about other factors,” you ran a hand through your hair in frustration, having put out the third cigarette in the past hour. “What time did the murder happen? What did Phil say?” you asked Steve.

“Nine twenty-seven,” he responded, arms crossed.

“Same time our flashlights went kablooey,” added Robin.

“Which means what exactly?”

“That that surge of energy was Vecna attacking Patrick and Y/N simultaneously,” interpreted Nancy as she examined your watch which had stopped at exactly nine twenty-seven.

You all came to the conclusion that when Vecna made contact with you he drained the energy out of any devices you had on…and out of you. Maybe draining his targets and victims’ energy made him more powerful.

“Y/N!” shouted Steve as he ran up the stairs and when he finally saw you standing at the center of the room, he let out a shaky breath of relief before he marched to you and took you into his arms.

“Where the hell have you been this whole time!? We all gathered in the living room and when you didn’t come-” he cut himself off. “I swear you’ll drive me crazy one day,” he exclaimed as he pushed a hair strand behind your ear and placed a couple of kisses on the side of your head while you stood there, barely responsive because you were still in shock after everything that happened.

“We were calling for you but you were nowhere in sight,” added Eddie breathlessly, the panic still noticeable in his tone and demeanor. “Thank God Max here noticed the attic door.”

“Are you alright?”

“I’m…I’m fine,” you let out but it was so quiet that they barely heard you. “Just tired.”

“Let’s get you outta here,” he rubbed your arms up and down before he took your hand in his in an attempt to guide you out of the room which made you gasp, and him - recoil. “Shit,” he hissed when he finally took notice of the condition of your fingernails and rushed to apologize and reassure you that everything would be okay. But you were too busy keeping yourself from collapsing due to the sudden exhaustion that you didn’t pay attention to anything he was saying and simply allowed him to take you downstairs and clean and wrap a couple of your fingers with bandaids with the help of a panicking and queasy Dustin and Eddie.

“Dude, that’s disgusting!” exclaimed the kid as he watched Steve completely remove the most damaged nail, and while you hadn’t felt much pain when they were treating your other nails - for the damage wasn’t too big - this one hurt so bad it ripped a scream out of your vocal cords, which made the trio flinch.

Steve and Eddie were quick to clean, dry, put petroleum jelly on, and wrap up your finger nicely, and Steve immediately took you in his arms and began whispering sweet nothings to calm you down.

“Steve, you’re an idiot,” sighed Dustin. “She has headphones on, she can’t hear you.”

“I can, actually,” you whispered and Steve slowly shifted away to give you space so you could reach and pull down the headphones, showcasing that there was indeed no music playing.

The boys frowned and Dustin grabbed your walkman in order to inspect it but saw nothing out of the ordinary.

“It seems like the batteries died,” he concluded and Steve scoffed.

“That can’t be it, they’re brand new.”

“Well, nothing else is wrong with the device, Steve. It’s the batteries.”

“But how?”

They weren’t able to discuss this issue because Nancy and the others came into the room and she and Max took over, shooing the boys away. They instructed you to breathe - in for a slow count of five. Hold for five. Breathe out on five. Hold for five. Apparently, this type of breathwork shifted the energy, and true to their words, the fatigue changed from unbearable to bearable.

“C’mon, you need to stand up and walk for a bit,” said Nancy as she helped you get up. “Then we’ll grab you something nice and caloric to eat.”

“And a green tea.”

Stretching your muscles, walking into the sunlight, breathing in some fresh air, and grabbing something to eat did boost your energy a bit, but only so you couldn’t pass out and fall asleep the moment you leaned back on the car seat. You desperately wanted to throw yourself on your bed and sleep.

Steve understood that. He really did. But there was something gnawing at him, eating him from the inside out, and he needed to get an answer out of you, otherwise, he was going to go insane. He’s been having this feeling for a while now but he refused to ignore it any longer.

He did it last year and you had been flayed. He did it a couple of months ago when your voice had seemed a bit off over the phone, blaming it on homesickness or hard study sessions, and look what happened.

He wasn’t going to ignore it now and he wasn’t going to allow you to hide things just so you didn’t worry everyone.

“Well, we’re one step closer. We know how Vecna attacks and possibly why he attacks,” said Nancy in hopes of encouraging everyone.

“And where he attacks from,” nodded Lucas.

“So, now we just need to sneak into his lair in the Upside Down and drive a stake through his heart.”

“If he even has a heart.”

“A stake? Is he like, a vamp? Is he a vampire?” asked Steve and Max huffed.

“It was a metaphor.”

“A bullet should work on him, right?” said Eddie.

“I say we chop his head off,” offered Lucas instead.

“I say all of the above, but we can’t do any of that ‘till we find a way into the Upside Down,” sighed Nancy. “We need El to get her powers back.”

“Everything was way easier,” commented Steve. “We had this girl. She had superpowers. Now not only do we not have her here but we can’t even make contact with her and the others and tell them what’s going on here,” he grumbled dejectedly. “I mean, we need all the help we can get.”

“I agree, but we have to learn how to deal with this on our own because El’s powers are lost and we don’t even know for how long,” you muttered, eyes down, boot drawing patterns in the soil and kicking a couple of pebbles away.

“I’m sorry, Y/N/N. I know you must be worried about Will and the others,” said Nancy sympathetically. “I wish we knew why they’re not answering.”

“Yeah, it’s very bizarre that nobody contacted me. I thought mom would call every day and I’m afraid that something might have happened,” you admitted with a heavy burden resting on your heart. “But…even if something is going on, if mom’s there, I know they’ll be fine,” you smiled slightly and the others returned it.

“Your mom is badass,” complimented Eddie with a grin and you chuckled.

“She is something, isn’t she?”

“Boom!” yelled Dustin, startling you. “Bada…bada…boom,” he whispered mockingly as he pointed a finger at Steve and everyone looked at him in bewilderment. “I was right!” he said and Steve took a large breath, rolling his eyes. “Skull Rock was north.”

“Seriously? You’re serious?” asked him your astounded boyfriend.

“Mm-hmm.”

“This is Skull Rock! Okay!” he cried out as he pointed at the large boulder behind him and Dustin nodded with a shit-eating smirk.

“Mm-hmm.”

“You’re totally, absolutely, hundred percent wrong right now!”

“Yes,” drawled the boy. “And no.”

“Oh, my God,” sighed Steve in frustration and ran his hands over his face.

“This compass worked correctly-” began explaining Dustin as he lifted the compass for everyone to see. “-when we left the Byers’. It was correct when we got in the car and drove off. But it started to slip the further east we went. Now, it’s way off. When I was leading us here, I wasn’t wrong. The compass was.”

“So you’re using faulty equipment,” Steve waved his arms in exasperation. “You’re still wrong.”

“Except, it isn’t faulty,” argued the boy before he turned to his friend for backup. “Lucas, remember what can affect a compass?”

“An electromagnetic field,” his face lit up in realization and so did yours.

“Yepp.”

“I’m sorry, I must’ve skipped that class,” stuttered out Robin.

“In the presence of a stronger electromagnetic field, the needle will deflect towards that power,” you breathed out and Dustin snapped his fingers.

“Exactly. So there’s either some super big magnet around here, or-”

“There’s a gate!”

Following the lead of the compass, you hiked the woods and as the day began shifting into evening and the bright colors dulled, you found yourselves in front of Lover’s Lake.

“Watch your step, big boy,” Eddie caught Dustin just in time before he could step into the water and everyone looked at the lake in dismay.

“You gotta be shitting me.”

“I thought these woods were familiar.”

“There’s a gate in Lover’s Lake?”

“Whenever the Demogorgon attacked, it always left an opening…a gate to the other world,” you reminded them. “Is it farfetched to believe Vecna is the same?”

“Yeah, there’s only one way to find out.”

After that, you were lucky enough to stumble upon two abandoned boats. One of them didn’t want to start at all but the second one was good enough so you decided to use it and explore the lake to make sure if the gate was somewhere underneath or not.

Eddie was gentlemanly enough to help you, Robin, and Nancy get on the boat before he boarded as well.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Eddie stopped Dustin who tried to get on as well, putting a hand on the boy’s head and pushing him back. “You trying to sink us? This thing holds four people tops, okay?”

“Hey, it’s better this way,” Nancy tried to lift his spirits. “You guys stay here with Max and keep an eye out for trouble.”

“You keep an eye out!” exclaimed Dustin and when she was taken aback by it, he made a face at her. “It’s my goddamn theory!”

“You heard Nance,” said Robin.

“Who put her in charge?!”

“I did.”

“Guys, we’re wasting time,” you sighed. “Dustin, we’ll be back soon anyway, and you’ll be able to observe with your binoculars too. Stay here where it’s safe and let us thread dangerous waters.”

“Literally,” threw a comment Steve and Eddie snickered.

Dustin begrudgingly passed you the compass and took a step back.

“Hey, here you go,” Steve threw a bag and the boy barely caught it.

“You sure you don’t need help?” you asked your boyfriend as he began to push the boat and he shook his head.

“I’m good,” he grunted and Dustin’s eyes widened when he saw his friend jump onto the boat last minute.

“You said four!”

“Sorry,” whispered Steve smugly and the boy grumbled under his breath.

It was Eddie and Robin who were responsible for the oars and moving the boat while you and Steve lighted the way with your flashlights as Nancy held the compass and navigated. It didn’t take too long before something happened.

“Whoa,” she exclaimed all of the blue. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, slow down!” she instructed and Eddie and Robin halted their movements and left the oars before all of you gathered closer to the girl in order to look at the small device. It was spinning like crazy.

“This must be it,” you commented and they nodded in agreement. “It should be somewhere below us…I think.”

“I can’t believe this shit,” groaned Eddie and he did a double-take when he saw Steve take off his socks. “Uh, Steve? What are you doing, man?”

“Somebody’s gotta go down and check this out,” answered your boyfriend offhandedly and your eyebrows furrowed.

“Hell, no! You’re not diving down there.”

“Babe, I was Hawkins High swim co-captain and a certified lifeguard for three years,” he patted your cheek and sent you a reassuring smile before he proceeded to take off his shirt. “I’ll be fine.”

“It’s not you I don’t have faith in,” you muttered. “It’s what might be lurking down there.”

“I’ll be quick, I promise. If I don’t come up in like, a minute or two, you can come after me and drag my ass out, okay?”

“And after that, I’ll kick that ass for making me worry,” your pout quickly melted into a small smile as you gave in and he grinned before placing a quick kiss on top of your head and jumped in the water after grabbing the flashlight that Eddie had wrapped in a plastic bag.

Immediately after, you and Eddie lit up cigarettes simultaneously and Robin and Nancy glared at you, making you stick out your tongues at them. You were stressed and the time couldn’t go faster so you simply wanted to kill some neurons with nicotine. How could they blame you?

After almost two minutes, Steve finally emerged from the water and took a large gulp of air, startling all of you.

“I found it!” he exclaimed breathlessly before he swam towards the boat and grabbed onto it.

“You found it?!”

“I found it. Yeah.”

“Are you okay?” you asked as you got closer and placed a hand on top of his arm and he nodded, panting.

“Dustin, you’re a goddamn Einstein, thank you,” Robin spoke into the walkie-talkie. “Steve found the gate.”

“It’s pretty wild,” described the boy. “It’s more a snack-size gate than the mama gate but still, it’s pretty damn big-” he barely finished his sentence before he suddenly dipped underwater, and a lump formed in your throat, body jerking forward, as you watched him come back to the surface and look around with eyes filled with confusion before he got pulled under completely, causing all of you to yell out in panic.

“Steve!” you called out panicked while your hands were hurriedly taking off your walkman and jacket.

“Y/N what are you doing!?” shouted Nancy but before anyone could stop you, you jumped into the water without wasting another second.

Fortunately, you had become a good and fast swimmer thanks to your surfing so it wasn’t that difficult to follow Steve who you blearily saw being dragged further and further down and through a glowing, glaringly red opening in the ground.

The gate.

And you didn’t hesitate to break through the membrane and follow your boy into the Upside Down.

Tags: @anxiousbeech @ashstorm24 @leireggsworld @burns-in-the-sun @ooenjoythesilenceoo @we-out-here-simping

#recs #f: stranger things #p: steve harrington #l: series #g: hurt comfort #g: angst #g: fluff #au: byers reader #a: thetargaryenbride #sh: series #sh: hurt comfort #sh: angst #sh: fluff #sh: byers reader #sh: thetargaryenbride #read: october 2023

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annab-recs · 6 months

Note

☕️ steve harrington and "you called me your friend." "was i not supposed to say that?" "you really think i'm just your friend? after these last few weeks?"

anna u have singlehandedly pulled me out of my steve slump with this request thank you i love you <3

steve harrington x reader, 1.8k, join the celebration!

“Steve, we’re gonna be late for the movie.”

“Who cares?” Steve’s voice was muffled from where his face was buried in your neck pressing kisses to it. You gave the hair at the back of his head a gentle tug, making him retreat to meet your gaze. His eyes were darker than usual in the backseat of his car, hair mussed, lips kiss-swollen. You were sure you looked the same.

“Uh, the ticket taker, probably?”

Steve huffed overdramatically, licking his lips. “We don’t have to watch the movie, y’know. We could always just stay here, doing what we’ve been doing. Doing some more stuff, preferably with less clothes…” You shot him an unimpressed look and he sighed, letting you climb off his lap and out of the car swiftly.

He followed rather begrudgingly, straightening out his wrinkled clothes the best he could, taming his hair back into the artfully messy appearance he’d styled it in before your hands had been through it. “Do I look okay?”

“Cute as usual, but you got a little something right there, pretty boy,” You said fondly, reaching out and swiping a smudge of your lipstick off the corner of his mouth. Steve’s eyes tracked your hand, not realizing he was leaning into your touch until your knuckles brushed against his cheekbone softly. He cleared his throat suddenly and you retreated, dropping your hand back down to your side. “How ‘bout me?”

“Beautiful as always.” He laced his fingers through yours, bringing you forward to dot a few kisses against your hairline before tugging you into step with him towards the movie theater.

The smell of popcorn hit you the moment you entered, the thought of a mountain of the buttery snack in a bucket giving you a little extra pep in your step and Steve noticed, because he gave your hand a squeeze.

A voice calling Steve’s name from behind the two of you made you both turn around. A boy and a girl were making their way towards you hand in hand, the girl’s free hand raised in a wave.

From beside you, Steve beamed. “Hey guys! Didn’t know you were gonna be here tonight.”

“Oh, Nance wanted to watch Labyrinth again.” The boy tipped his head towards his movie partner—girlfriend, you assumed. He looked at you, offering you a small but warm smile. “What about you guys?”

“This is my friend, Y/N. Y/N, this is Nance and Jonathan.” He introduced you so nonchalantly you almost scoffed. If Steve still considered you just a friend after all the time you’d been spending with each other and all the things you’d been doing with each other lately, then you’d hate to see what he did with his other friends. “We were just gonna catch that new Matthew Broderick movie, see if it’s any good. You seen it yet?”

“Not yet, I was gonna see if Will wanted to watch it with me. Seems like something he’d find funny.” Jonathan shrugged. His gaze just so happened to wander down to yours and Steve’s joined hands, but if it surprised him, he kept his composure, opting for a sharp nod. “Well, we won’t hold you. See you Friday, Steve? Hellfire’s meeting at our house this time and my mom’s making pot roast, so you’d better bring your appetite when you come pick up Dustin and the others.”

“When do I not?”

“Reliable as ever, Steve.” Nancy joked. “It was nice to see you again, and really nice to meet you, Y/N.”

You smiled at her as best you could, saying a soft goodbye before they made their way past the two of you.

“You okay? Kinda looks like you just got sucker punched.” Okay, so maybe your poker face wasn’t great. Steve looked genuinely concerned for your well-being, and you hated how it sent your stomach into a whirl. “Are you sick? Fuck, I knew Mike’s nasty cough would rub off on me, that little shit! I can take you home if you want, don’t worry about the movie.”

“I don’t want to go home, Steve.”

“We can always catch it another day, it’s gonna be here for a month at least, we—” He’d already started to guide you back towards the entrance, but you stopped him with a palm across his chest.

“Steve, stop. I’m not sick.”

“Then what’s wrong?”

You shook your head. “It’s nothing. It’s dumb.”

“No it's not. Something’s bothering you, c’mere,” He said gently, gesturing for the two of you to step to the side, out of the way so you could talk somewhat in private. “What’s going on?”

“You called me your friend.” You said quietly, trying to ignore the ugly knot in your stomach. It seemed so stupid now, getting all worked up over something as silly as a single word, but you couldn't lie to yourself. Or Steve for that matter.

It did feel like you’d gotten sucker punched.

Steve shot a confused look at you, tilting his head. “Was I not supposed to say that?”

“You really think I’m just your friend? After these last few weeks?”

“I thought—hold on, we were on the same page about this, weren’t we? No labels, no defining anything, just you and me.”

“Well yeah, but that was before you used your stupid charm on me and made me like you and your stupid hair more than I should.” You were more angry at yourself than anything. You should’ve known Steve didn’t feel the same way about you as you did about him, but you’d stupidly given yourself an ounce too much of hope.

Never mind the days you’d spent together wrapped up in each other’s embrace, talking about anything and everything until the sun set and your eyes grew heavy. Never mind the being on the phone with each other until dawn poked its head above the horizon, the kissing and the holding hands and the sipping coffee silently in the morning until one of you woke up just enough to fold the other into their embrace.

All of that meant nothing, because you and Steve were just friends.

“My charm? What are you—what are you talking about, my charm?”

“You seriously don’t know what I mean?”

“Does it look like I do?” He shot back, then winced. “Sorry. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be so sharp.”

“You got me flowers last week, Steve!”

“Yeah, ‘cause they were nice and I thought you’d like them!” He exclaimed, gesticulating wildly. You just stared at him, waiting for him to realize your point. When he did, his mouth dropped into a silent ‘oh’. “I—I didn’t mean—”

This was your worst fear—the reason why you didn’t want to bring it up at all. You had a good thing going with Steve, and now you’d just lost it. “Just forget I said anything, okay?”

“No. No, stay. Please. Talk to me, I wanna talk about this.” He insisted, nodding fiercely. His hands came to plant themselves on your shoulders, then retreated a split second later, like he didn’t know what to do with them anymore. Not even twenty minutes ago, he’d had no problem touching you.

You hated how things were already changing between the two of you. All because you’d gotten your feelings hurt about something small.

“I like you, Steve! There it is. I like you, and I don’t know what to do about it because I don’t know what you want from me.” You blurted, voice strained with emotion. You squeezed your eyes shut, digging the heels of your palms against them tightly for a few seconds before refocusing on Steve, who just looked stunned. “Am I just someone you fill your time with because you’re bored, or is this thing between us going somewhere? ‘Cause if it’s not, I’d like to know now. Before I fall for you any more than I already have.”

As much as you swore to yourself you weren’t going to cry, you could feel the tears welling in your eyes. You bit down hard on your bottom lip to quell them, and Steve noticed. His expression softened like butter and he reached out, rubbing a gentle hand down your arm.

“Hey, I—I’m sorry. I didn’t know you felt that way, I swear.” Steve’s voice was soft. Comforting. You could tell what you’d just confessed was really eating away at him. That was another thing you liked about Steve. Whenever you told him something, he always took it seriously. “Guess we do kinda need to talk about the elephant in the room.”

“By all means, you first.” You muttered, folding your arms over your chest. Steve inhaled a sharp breath, letting it out as a heavy exhale through his mouth.

“I don’t exactly have the best track record with girls. I’m sure you’ve heard about what I was like in high school. I was a dick, plain and simple. I did things I’m not proud of, and I hurt people, but I swear on my life, I’m not that person anymore. I’m not…him anymore.” He looked almost upset with the way his jaw clenched, brow furrowing deeply at the mention of his past.

You’d heard plenty about the high and mighty King Steve, and part of you didn’t want to believe it. This was the same Steve who helped old ladies carry their groceries and always played basketball with the neighborhood kids when they needed another player.

“I guess I just didn’t wanna say the wrong thing and jinx what we’ve got going here, because I…I want this to go somewhere. I really like you too, Y/N. And I know it’s only been a few weeks but I—” Steve cut himself off with a short chuckle, raking a hand through his hair and bunching it at the nape of his neck before letting the strands fall back into place.

His expression was cynical, like he was positive you were about to reject him and leave him here in this dim parking lot and never talk to him again. You weren’t going to, obviously, but Steve was a worst case scenario kind of guy. “I think I’m already falling in love with you.”

“You’ve sure got a shitty way of showing it, Harrington.” You huffed, but there was no real anger behind your words. In fact, you were looking at him quite fondly, and the way you bumped your shoulder against his seemed promising.

“Believe me, I know that already. Workin’ on it everyday, though.” He shook his head with another chuckle. Even you cracked a tiny smile at that, sniffling slightly. “Can we start over?”

“I’d like that very much.”

“Yeah?” He perked up, looking pleased. You nodded and he beamed even brighter, sticking his hand out for you to shake. “Hi. I’m Steve, I think you're amazing, and I wanted to know if you’d like to watch a movie with me.”

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#recs #f: stranger things #p: steve harrington #l: oneshot #g: angst #g: fluff #a: katsu28 #sh: oneshot #sh: angst #sh: fluff #sh: katsu28 #read: october 2023

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annab-recs · 6 months

Text

Nail To The Coffin - S4 - Chapter 5

Warnings: trauma, some blood, memories of s3lf h@rm, Vecna

Pairing: Steve Harrington x f!Byers!Reader

Word Count: 8099

𝐀𝐍: 𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘺. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘷𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘥𝘥𝘭𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘢 𝘥𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘮 - 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘴𝘩 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘶𝘯𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳, 𝘮𝘢𝘥𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘱𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳. 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳, 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬𝘴, 𝘴𝘺𝘮𝘣𝘰𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘮, 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘶𝘮𝘢, 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘢 𝘣𝘪𝘨 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘩 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘮𝘢𝘥𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴~

Masterlist || Chapter 4 || Chapter 6

“Honey, can you stand?” you asked softly and the girl nodded, slowly getting on her feet with some help from Lucas and you.

“What do we do now?” said Eddie wobbly. “Should we-should we investigate or?”

“You guys can go…but I think I’m just gonna go home. I’ve had enough for today,” whispered Max.

“I hope that by ‘home’ you actually meant to say ‘at your place’ because we surely aren’t letting you go back to the trailer park alone,” you crossed your arms and she nodded.

“Yeah, sure, that’s what I meant. Let’s go.”

“You guys get started on the dinner. I’ll just…go take a quick bath and will come help you,” you sent the group a firm smile before you hurriedly went to your room to get a bathrobe, and then headed for the bathroom.

You turned on the faucet and sat on the edge of the tub, staring into the rippling, almost translucent, water that was slowly filling the pearly porcelain vessel, tuning out the noisy group in the other room as you waited.

You discarded your clothes and shoved them in the laundry basket before testing the water’s temperature. You let out a sigh once you sank in and rested your head on the towel you had previously folded and placed to act as a pillow.

Suddenly, even through your closed lids, you felt the lights give a flicker, which propelled you to open them and look around.

It was the same bathroom. Only, the energy had somehow shifted and the noise your friends were making as they chaotically prepared dinner had disappeared without you even noticing, until now. It was deadly silent, almost as if you’d been locked in some kind of sensory deprivation room.

There was a slight gust of wind that ruffled your hair a bit and you didn’t know what prompted you to look to the side but when you did, your eyes widened when they landed on a razor. You didn’t know for how long you had a stare-down with the piece of metal until you finally reached out and took it.

It felt so familiar in your hand.

So tempting.

You gulped, eyes boring into it. You tapped your finger against the blade a couple of times and you got filled with the sudden urge to slide it over the blade. It would be only a tiny cut. Nothing major, right?

“Go on, do it,” provoked you a calm, silvery voice, making your heartbeat increase rapidly, and you actually accidentally ended up slicing your finger on the blade. It made you hiss in pain and drop the blade in the water as you brought the finger to your mouth and pressed it against your lips in an attempt to soothe the ache.

The small droplet of blood that had fallen into the water did not stain it but somehow you still felt as if you were submerged in dirty waters.

Then, you felt the most overwhelming wave of energy that almost blew you away, and your head snapped up to look at the door, only to see it creak open, revealing a figure in the dark. You straightened up and shivered when the air hit the damp skin of your shoulders, collarbones, and back, chilling you more than it usually did.

The figure stepped forward, bathing itself in the light and revealing a tall, lean man with blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. He had on a charming smile but there was some form of malice behind it. In fact, his whole presence oozed it, despite his calm demeanor.

“I didn’t take you for such a coward,” he clicked with his tongue in a pitying manner.

“Who are you?” you found the strength in your voice as you spoke out and he smiled at you as he stalked closer and sat on the edge of the tub, by your feet.

“Just someone who wishes to help you,” he shrugged with that knowing smile of his never leaving his face, unsettling you even more.

“Help me? Whatever do you mean?” you furrowed your eyebrows as you tried to slide away from him but your back quickly hit the wall of the tub and you realized that you couldn’t get away from him.

And you felt so very exposed, figuratively and literally.

“I just want to put an end to your suffering. You seem to be very persistent in your attempts at denying help considering you were desperately seeking it not so long ago,” he spoke calmly and just before you were about to ask him what he meant, you saw his gaze flicker to the razor at the bottom and it all became clear to you.

The little boy you had been seeing. This man you were seeing now. The disfigured monster Max had told you she’d seen…it was the same person.

It was Vecna.

He was the monster preying on you.

Your demon.

He was trying to break the little you had managed to piece together and heal so he could take you. A part of you, the unhealed, seemed to be ready to submit already. But the little piece that held everything together was, as he said, persistent.

“I don’t want your help,” you grit out, albeit a bit shaky, and his smile grew.

“You do…you’re just afraid to finally admit it…you’ve always been afraid. That’s why you couldn’t do anything even though you tried a couple of times. You couldn’t do anything alone, that is,” his smile transitioned into a smirk and you pursed your lips in an attempt to stop them from trembling. “But I can help you this time. If you just surrender.”

“And I told you…I don’t need your help.”

“Why do you fear death?” he asked, tilting his head. “You want it so badly…but you’re afraid to go through with it. Ever since last summer.”

“The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear,” you answered instead. “-and the oldest and strongest kind of fear is fear of the unknown,” you stared right into his eyes and saw them crinkle as he grinned.

“Ah, Howard Philips Lovecraft,” muttered the man, almost proudly, and you held his gaze. “You sure know your…horror literature, smart girl,” he winked as he stood up and put his hands behind his back, stalking closer to you and eventually crouching by your side, too close for comfort, making you rigid as you tried to move as far away as you possibly could. That only made him chuckle as he lifted a hand and caressed your cheek with his knuckles.

“You should know…that you can’t escape me,” he drawled huskily.

Suddenly, you felt a sharp prickling sensation all over your body and you slowly turned your head to look down, only to see that the water had vanished and in her stead there were numerous razors, each sharper than the other, cutting into you, bleeding you, hurting you, even if you barely moved. You gasped as you sprung up and clumsily exited the tub, falling right into Vecna’s arms.

You trashed against him but he wouldn’t budge and you felt so utterly helpless that tears began rolling down your cheeks and you couldn’t contain the choked sobs from escaping. He caressed your hair and hushed you as you finally gave up and went limp in his arms, blood dripping all over his white uniform and the white tiles, and you felt that this was the end.

Then, the last thing you heard and felt was his whisper against your ear and the mocking kiss he placed on your temple.

“No…not yet. I want to play some more before that. Makes it more fun doesn’t it?”

“Don’t you think she’s been in there for quite some time now?” asked Nancy as she kept glancing at the bathroom’s door and Robin followed her line of vision.

“She did say she’d be quick about it,” agreed the girl with a sinking sensation and Steve’s brows furrowed as he abandoned the potato he was peeling and washed his hands, wiping them on the towel that had been resting on his shoulder before he threw it on the counter and marched towards the bathroom, stomach churning as bad foreboding washed over him.

“Y/N?” he called out as he neared the door and knocked. “Are you-Jesus Christ, what the-“ he got startled when he heard the sound of squelching and looked down, only to see there was water coming out of the room and he had stepped onto it. “Shit!” he exclaimed, drawing everyone’s attention, and threw open the door.

The sight was alarming, to say the least.

The tub was overflowing, flooding the space, you were lying on the floor, on your side, almost curled in on yourself, back turned on the entrance, hair sprawled and rippling back and forth because of the water, body almost nude, donning on only your underwear and a top. It seemed you had fainted while in the process of taking off your clothes.

“Y/N,” Steve called out once again as he pretty much threw himself onto the ground next to your form and grabbed you by the shoulder, turning you around. His eyes widened when he saw your nose bleeding profusely, staining your lips, your neck, your collarbones, and even the water and floor beneath your head. What worried him the most, however, was how still you were. “Hey, hey, don’t do this to me, baby,” he spoke frantically as he shook you before he clumsily took off his jacket and wrapped up your torso, mostly your hips and upper thighs, with it.

“What’s going on!?” asked Eddie panicked after he had stormed into the room, and didn’t waste a second to kneel on your other side while the others stayed standing nearby, giving you some space. “Jesus, what happened!?” he yelled and Steve ran a hand through his hair in frustration and helplessness.

“I don’t know! I came to ask if she was okay and found her like this! I don’t know!” he yelled back as his hands grasped your face, fingers caressing your cheeks and wiping the blood. “Y/N, c’mon, don’t scare me. Just open your eyes,” he pleaded and Eddie’s fingers flew to your neck.

“Steve, it’s okay,” he let out a breath of relief and Steve looked up questioningly. “She’s okay, I feel her pulse,” he informed the boy and he let out a long, shaky exhale, the others mirroring him.

“Then why did she faint? Why is her nose bleeding?” asked Steve and Eddie shook his head.

“Could be the stress and the lack of sleep,” he suggested. “Could be Vecna,” he muttered, spitting out the suspicions everyone had in mind.

Steve cursed silently, and shut his eyes in despair, hands going to rub his face. Sneaking his arms underneath you, he lifted you up easily and headed out, the others moving away to let him pass.

“Steve,” you murmured as you stirred awake, and he halted, looking down at you with wide hopeful eyes.

“Y/N!” he exclaimed and the others’ faces and rigid postures relaxed. “Can you hear me?” he asked and you nodded, opening your eyes. “Can you see me?” again, you nodded. “Good…good,” he smiled widely and wobbly before rushing into your room and gently laying you down on the bed.

“What happened?” asked Nancy softly as she came to sit on the bed by your side, taking your hand in hers, and you shook your head.

“I just…” you gulped. “I guess I felt dizzy all of a sudden and…then everything turned black,” you explained and she shared a look with the others who had quickly followed Steve and surrounded the bed.

“What about visions? Did you have any visions?” asked Max anxiously. “Did you see…did you see a monster?”

You hesitated for a bit before you gave her an answer.

“No…No, I didn’t.”

When you woke up, you weren’t in your bed anymore. Instead, you felt your bare arms being caressed by the blades of lush green grass.

You shot up into a sitting position and your eyes stared ahead, wide in confusion and fear, at the scenery. You were in a meadow of sorts. It kind of reminded you of the fields surrounding Hawkins that you frequented with your brothers when you’d go on picnics, walks, or just in search of picturesque spots to photograph and paint.

Suddenly, the sound of squealing to your left pierced your eardrums, and you got startled, not having heard it beforehand. It was a hare and its leg was tied by a rope. It seemed to have fallen into a trap and now it couldn’t escape, never mind how much it trashed and struggled against it.

Your heart fell to your stomach and you felt as if your whole body sunk as you watched the poor creature, suddenly getting reminded of all the times Lonnie had forced you and Jonathan to hunt rabbits.

You rushed to the animal and did a quick work of untying it. It immediately sprung away from you but didn’t run into the tree line nearby. It stood there expectantly as if beckoning you to follow it.

So you did.

You followed it into the woods.

You tried not to trip on the overgrown roots as you ran deeper into the forest where the trees seemed to be ancient, towering above you, looming eerily, showering you in darkness with only a couple of sunbeams being able to peek through the multiple thick branches. Suddenly, you didn’t think it was a smart choice to follow the animal. You kept feeling as if something or someone was watching you from behind the trees.

Shadows.

“You don’t need to be afraid of them,” chimed an all too familiar voice and you almost tripped as you halted in your steps, whirling sharply to face the blonde man that had tortured you with a vision merely a few hours ago. And now he was back, wanting more? “Shadows are actually children of light,” he explained as he stalked closer to you and you took a step back in return. “They are born from light.”

“But they are controlled by darkness,” you retorted. “You are that darkness,” you frowned and he smiled.

“Don’t be like that. Just come to me.”

You stared at him for a while before you turned your back on him and marched away.

“Y/N!” he called after your retreating form but you ignored him and quickened your pace instead. You didn’t want to give him the pleasure of seeing how scared you actually were. You didn’t want to give him the pleasure of looking deep into your eyes and seeing the way you were actually hesitating – tethering on the edge of agreeing to succumb to him. Although, he seemed to know everything about you already. He seemed to know your mind more than you knew it yourself.

It was pointless to hide.

Shortly after the encounter, you stumbled upon the hare once again. It was standing in front of a large tree with a hole at its base, big enough to fit a person. It sprung inside and you followed it with little hesitation this time, wanting to escape Vecna more than anything, praying that this hole would take you back to the land of living.

Then you found yourself falling.

And it felt like you were falling forever. All kinds of patterns surrounded you – twisted, deformed clocks whose chime you heard resonate through the dark void, whites, and blacks, swirling, checkered patterns accompanied by kings and queens and bishops and knights, endless skewered staircases that led to who knew where, and it felt like you were trapped in an infinite portal of illusions that you couldn’t escape from.

When you finally landed on the ground – mind you, you didn’t fall and break anything, but rather you stopped right before you hit the floor, and then some invisible power let you drop gently onto it – you found yourself standing in a huge spacey hallway with multiple doors.

But while they were all blank and plain, ordinary and colored black and white, there was one right in front of you that stood out.

A door much resembling the entrance of your own home back in LA.

It had a stained glass window with a gorgeous rose in the center.

“Beautiful, isn’t it,” hummed the blonde man, appearing out of nowhere yet again, and you huffed.

“I didn’t know someone like you could appreciate the beauty in things as simple as stained glass.”

“Even simple things have a deeper meaning than you give them credit for,” he shrugged, looking at you with his piercing blue eyes, but you just looked ahead at the door and tried your best to ignore him because you felt that if you looked at him, you’d give up on the bravery and make way for weakness and acceptance.

“Oh, really?”

“Take the stained glass, as you so kindly pointed it out as an example… People, are like stained-glass windows. They sparkle and shine when the sun is out, but when the darkness sets in, their true beauty is revealed only if there is a light from within,” he drawled.

“You’re ugly,” you pointed out.

“Am I?” he asked with mock hurt.

“You may look…handsome on the outside but…on the inside you’re rotten. Disgusting and disfigured. And I don’t doubt I’ll soon get to see it all reflect on the outside…your true form,” you mumbled and he let out a breathy chuckle.

“Trust me, darling…when that time comes…it will be the end for you. So don’t be too eager to meet my true form,” he said quietly, warningly, and you gulped but showed none of what you were feeling on your face. Even though he probably knew what you were feeling.

And even though you had been so curious, and desperate to escape, at the end, you couldn’t see what was on the other side of the door.

It’s like Vecna had purposely blocked your path.

You knew he wanted you to see something. He wanted to show you something. But perhaps the time wasn’t right yet.

The Following Morning

“So, Eddie and I, uh,” began Steve. He had hovered over you since the moment you woke up, guarded you while you were bathing, was almost tempted to join you, actually, and was now making you company while you were getting dressed, casually sitting on the bed, sprawled, and tossing a bouncing ball at the ground which hit the wall and returned into his hand continuously. “We have prepared your walkman and tapes of all your favorite songs. You know, just in case,” he muttered deflated, looking at the floor then back at you, and you sighed, pulling your jeans up and zipping them.

No one had been able to sleep that night. Everyone was worried about Max and you. It was only during the wee hours of the morning when you had been able to get some shut-eye, only because Steve would’ve killed you with his glare if you hadn’t, insisting you needed to rest so you don’t faint again. If only they knew what happened was because of Vecna and not fatigue, they would be freaking out even more than they already were. They didn’t need that on their mind. They had to focus on Max. So you kept your tongue behind your teeth. Of course, they still had a suspicion but it was better than knowing and freaking out.

“Steve, I told you, I’m fine. I’ve had fainting spells before. They haven’t made an appearance in some time but…I guess all the stress and lack of sleep lately are doing a number on me. I’ll be fine,” you sent him a smile as your hand went to rub his arm up and down soothingly, and he shook his head.

“I know. But still, I have to consider the other possibility, just in case…better safe than sorry, right? I’m not going to risk your well-being…I’m not going to risk your life. Not again…” he said seriously. “Besides,” his frown then switched into a knowing smile. “I didn’t think you’d resist Bon Jovi,” he smirked knowingly and you eyed him up and down, eyes narrowing a tad bit. “Or ABBA,” he added as he grabbed a tape. “Or Madonna,” he waved it teasingly in front of you. “Or Queen.”

“Okay, you convinced me now,” you snorted, unable to resist a smile from forming, and took the cassette from his hand.

“That’s my girl,” he stood up and placed a kiss on your temple as you headed for the living room.

“Hey, how are you holding up?” you asked gently as you put a hand on Max’s shoulder and she sent you a small smile.

“So far so good, I guess. And you?”

“As good as you are, I guess,” you muttered and she and Nancy, who had just joined you by the table, shot you sympathetic, understanding looks. “Hold on…what’s that?” you asked with furrowed eyebrows as you inspected what the girl’s been working on since last night and she looked down at her drawings.

Last night, after the yet another incident in the bathroom, Max hadn’t wanted to leave your side for a second, so she hung out in your room and briefly told you about some of the things she saw. She asked if you had any painting supplies and you had given her some paints and Will’s forgotten crayons to use. She had stayed up all night drawing at your desk and had eventually moved to the kitchen table.

“Is this what you saw?” asked Nancy and she nodded.

“I mean, it’s supposed to be. I thought it’d be easier to draw it out than explain it, but…maybe I should’ve asked you to draw it instead. I just didn’t want to bother you,” she told you and you shook your head.

“You could never bother me,” you said as you slid into the chair close by and took a paper into your hands. “Let’s see. Maybe if I take a good look at these and if you explain the imagery you saw with more details, I’d be able to draw-” the words died in your throat and turned into a poison ivy rope that stung and choked you when you saw a drawing of two people, stuck in what seemed to be a prison of vines.

“Is that…” you asked but you couldn’t bring yourself to finish the sentence. You didn’t need to. They knew you meant Chrissy and Fred.

“It was like…they were on display,” began Max hesitantly. “And then there was this red fog everywhere. It was like a dream. A nightmare.”

“You think Vecna’s just trying to scare you?” asked Nancy.

“With Billy? Yes. But when I made it here,” she pointed at the place she had drawn. “I don’t know, something was different. He seemed surprised, almost. Like he didn’t want me there.”

“Maybe you infiltrated his mind,” butted in Dustin, almost startling you with his sudden appearance. “He invaded your mind, right? Is it that big of a leap to suggest you somehow wound up in his? Like Freddie Kruger’s boiler room.”

“You know, he has a point,” you hummed, crossing your arms and biting the nail of your thumb. “Maybe you formed a connection in the moment of invasion. Maybe you unlocked a backdoor to his world.”

“Exactly,” agreed Dustin. “Maybe the answer is in this…incredibly intricate drawing,” he drawled and your eyes widened when they landed on something very familiar.

“Hold on…This door…I’ve seen it before,” you blurted out as your hand grasped another piece of paper. The familiar door with the stained-glass window glared right back at you.

“I’ve seen it too,” said Nancy and the two of you shared a look before you began taking drawings and folding them in certain ways, lining them together. Your minds worked as one in that moment and you quickly formed a perfect image by piecing everything together.

“It’s pieces of a house,” pointed out Max while you were outlining some parts with a black marker.

“Not just any house,” breathed out Nancy.

“Isn’t that…the abandoned Creel house?” Steve asked and all of you looked at him with furrowed eyebrows. “What? Everyone knows about it but nobody goes there because it’s haunted. Except, of course, if someone dares someone to go and-“

“Let me guess,” interrupted Eddie as he casually strolled over and crossed his arms. “If you refuse to go, you won’t be as cool. You’ll be known as a coward. It’s all about reputation. Nothing scarier than losing your popularity,” he wriggled his fingers, trying to convey spooky energy and Steve rolled his eyes.

The Creel House.

Everyone knew about the creepy abandoned building. Everyone knew it was haunted. But nobody cared to learn of the terrifying events that had taken place there. Not even you, the ever historian, had bothered looking into it. It just didn’t seem like anything interesting or important. People died every day and their houses became relics. It wasn’t anything worthy of your attention.

How the tables have turned now.

This house suddenly became the center of everyone’s attention and probably the core of the problematic situation you were currently facing. And maybe, if luck was on your side, it would be a trump card up your sleeve that you could use against Vecna.

Suddenly, there was knocking on your door, and everyone’s heads snapped to look at it, anxiousness gripping at their guts.

"You stay where you are. I'll go answer it," you waved off Steve and Dustin who seemed ready to bolt for the door and greet whoever had come to visit you.

But what made you kind of suspicious and had you narrow your eyes, was the way the person was not actually knocking but banging on the door with urgency. At first, you thought it might be Calvin, coming to give you bad news, so your pace quickened and you harshly threw open the door.

What surprised you, or more likely unpleasantly shocked you, was that it was not your uncle Calvin who graced you with his presence. It was Jason Carver.

"Jason? What are you doing here?" You asked as you tried to keep the door halfway closed, hiding half of your body behind it and by extension hiding the other occupants from his line of vision.

"I came to check if Eddie's here, by chance," he didn't beat around the bush, or bother with pleasantries, and came out with it immediately, you could give him that.

"What makes you think that Eddie is here?" you asked, trying to stall, as your arm that was hidden behind the door made a couple of signs to the party, signaling them to hide or get out of the house.

They understood right away and scurried after having heard Jason's voice. Eddie in particular had almost fallen off the armchair and had dropped his mug, thankfully on the carpet, spilling its contents, making Robin, Dustin, and Steve, who were the ones who saw the whole thing, wince and scrunch up their faces in worry that Jason might have heard the sound. Apparently, he hadn't, probably because the carpet had muffled it.

"Don't play games with me, Byers," frowned the boy. "You and Munson are buddies, aren't you? It's only normal for him to hang out at your place," he stated while placing a hand on the door strategically and pushing lightly. "Be a good girl and just tell me where he is."

You were thankful for one thing - at one point in the past day or so, you had persuaded Eddie to ditch his van and park it somewhere else, not too far from your house but also not too close, because you knew that something like this was most probable to occur. He had hesitantly agreed to leave and conceal it and squeeze in Steve’s car instead.

It's true you had told to Lucas "Fuck Jason, we have bigger problems. We'll deal with him later" but you never forgot about the potential problem he could cause. You kept him at the back of your mind and you were grateful for it because now, unable to see Eddie's van, Jason couldn't possibly assume he was at your place. But of course, you still signaled the others to get out of the house and hide somewhere at the back, just in case you were unable to stall Jason's advances and he decided to storm into your home to investigate personally.

“Jason, listen to me very carefully,” you began. “I know you’ve gotten one too many balls thrown at your head but surely you can still get some of this through your thick skull. Eddie is not guilty. Plain and simple,” you blurted out and his eyes narrowed dangerously, body tensing.

“Don’t defend him just because you’re friends. If someone does something wrong, friend or not, you turn them in!”

“I’m defending him because he is truly innocent. He was with us the whole time that night! He wasn’t home when the murder happened!”

“I don’t believe you,” he spat out and you took a deep breath, trying to keep yourself from blowing up in his face.

“Believe what you will. We already went to speak with the Chief and told him everything that happened. If the police declared Eddie innocent, then why are you mingling in things that ain’t your business?” you bit out in return and he glared at you poisonously.

“Because how can I be sure that you told the truth to the police, huh?” he countered, and suddenly you felt nervous, your spine stiffening. “I know you’re close with the Chief. I know he’d believe you above anyone else. You grew up before his eyes,” he threw his hands in indignation. “I know you’d do anything to protect your friends, including lie to the police. But maybe this time you’re also trying to protect yourself. Maybe you’re the same as Eddie. Maybe you’re a devil too. I’ve seen you wear one of those Hellfire t-shirts before. Just because you’re not part of our high school anymore doesn’t mean you ain’t part of that satanic club,” his words grew heavier and harsher with each second, as did his rage, and his body language became more aggressive.

But so did yours.

You couldn’t remember when was the last time you felt such boiling, hot rage fill you up – rage that was caused by another human being that is, and not an alien monster – that you were struggling not to unleash on Jason.

“And I ask you one more time,” you murmured lowly. “What makes you believe all this bullshit?”

“Because Chrissy would never interact with this freak!” he shouted. “And because she would never get involved with drugs. She’s perfect in every sense and her life is amazing! Why in the world would she reach out for that crap? It’s not possible! The only explanation is that she was forced to go to the trailer and was most probably forced to take drugs before she was murdered. But who am I explaining to!? A cocaine whore like you would never understand!” he yelled and just as he was about to spill out more, you interrupted him by giving him the biggest slap you’ve ever delivered. It was so loud that probably the whole neighborhood heard it.

Steve, who, the moment he heard Jason’s insults, had been ready to bolt to your side and pummel the boy, causing him to be held by Dustin and Lucas, relaxed when he heard the sound and his scowl turned into a proud smirk.

At that moment, you saw red.

You blew up.

“Oh, so you think you know Chrissy because you’ve been her boyfriend for what? Barely a year!?” you began shouting back at him and his eyes widened, not expecting such an aggressive outburst from you, because never before had he heard or seen you so rabid. “Newsflash! I’ve known her for much longer than that! And I know for a fact that her life was far from perfect! So don’t stand here and paint her life as a fucking heaven on Earth! She was so not the person she tried to present as in front of everyone else! She struggled so fucking much at home because her mother is a cunt!” you screamed and gesticulated angrily. “I have tried so much to help her but every time we’d make progress and get better, every time she’d take a step forward, her mother would throw her a couple of steps backwards and ruin everything! Do you have any idea how goddamn devastating it is to be stuck and not be able to move on and heal from your trauma!? Have you been in such a situation, Carver!? Because Chrissy for sure was, her entire life. She used to visit the school counselor back when I was still in high school, and her visits became more frequent these past months! She’s been suffering from heavy headaches, nosebleeds, vivid nightmares, but I doubt you knew about any of this because you never cared about anything or anyone else besides your abnormally large, arrogant ass, and your stupid games,” you roared as you took a step forward and he took a step back, shrinking under your glare and harsh words. “You never cared enough to dig deeper and get to know her more! I told her back then, to not go out with you, to not become your girlfriend, because you loved only what she was allowing you and everyone else to see. You look only at the bark of the tree, and not the entire forest because you are an entitled, blindly self-righteous, dumb cunt! You’re so fucking unreliable it hurts! So, no, I don’t blame her for reaching out to Eddie and wanting to dull the pain with some Special K! A ‘cocaine whore’ like me understands very well what it means to see no light in the tunnel so you want to take a fucking sedative to calm your jumbled brain! If only you could see things not as black and white but explore the complex, grey morality, you wouldn’t be standing here on a bloody headhunting, trying to deliver your own personal view of justice! You call Eddie a freak but you are a fucking psycho!” you ended your rampage with a shriek, chest heaving as you glared at him, hands and body shaking with rage. You were ready to pounce on him and he could read it in your body language, so he chose not to engage further.

“You’re lucky I came alone,” he finally uttered, gulping the lump that had stuck in his throat. “You won’t be as lucky next time…this isn’t over. We’ll find Eddie. Here or wherever he’s hiding,” he spoke, trying to sound and appear threatening and intimidating but all you could see was a scared piece of shit who tried to play it macho. He could never even step on Billy’s little finger. It was pathetic.

“Oh, I’d love that,” you quipped. “Then I’ll be able to properly show you just why I was sent to the police station three times, and who knows, maybe you can follow Nathaniel Hale’s fate,” you grit out and he gulped, nose scrunching up, before he finally left the vicinity of your house and jumped into his car, driving away.

You slammed the door shut, rattling it so harshly and loudly that for a second you thought it might fall off its hinges.

You were just so angry.

He really managed to rile you up badly. You hadn’t experienced such intense emotions and anger since the time when your brothers would get bullied and you’d beat up their bullies.

“You okay?” asked Steve as he put a hand on your shoulder and you jumped startled, making him lift his hands in the air. “It’s me. It’s okay.”

“Oh, Steve,” you let out as you gave him a hug and he rubbed your back soothingly.

“It’s okay. The bastard’s not gonna bother you anymore.”

“I hope he doesn’t come back with his little friends and search the house forcefully,” you grumbled and Steve shook his head.

“That’d be illegal and you’d be in your right to call the police on him. Then he and his friends would be arrested for some time and we’ll be left alone to do our job in peace,” quipped the boy and you pulled away, looking at him with wide eyes.

“That actually…sounds like a great idea, Steve,” you breathed out and he chuckled.

“Always the tone of surprise. I’m smarter than I look, you know,” he smirked and you snorted, ruffling his hair playfully and stepping away from his personal space to avoid his swats.

“Well…we’ve lost some time dealing with this waste of oxygen so I suggest we hurry.”

“Well, that’s just incredibly eerie,” you breathed out and everyone looked at you questioningly.

“What do you mean?”

“This house is…well, let’s just say that our house in LA is pretty similar-looking to this one. It’s…it’s creepy,” you shuddered and everyone’s faces scrunched up in what seemed to be sympathy.

“What exactly are we supposed to be looking for in this shithole?” asked Steve minutes later while he was de-nailing some of the rusty nails that kept a huge wooden plank up and covering the front door.

“We’re not sure,” sighed Nancy. “We just know this house is important to Vecna.”

“Because Max saw it in Vecna’s red soup mind, right?”

“Basically.”

“Great.”

A short conversation about the possibility of you finding a clue about Vecna later, you were breaking and entering, flashlights on and lighting every corner as you crept inside cautiously.

“They just…left everything,” commented Nancy somewhat sadly as she and Robin explored what seemed to be the living room.

“I guess a triple homicide isn’t good for resale value,” added dryly Robin.

“Hey, guys,” called out Max and everyone went to her side. “You all see that, right?” she asked as she pointed her flashlight at the grandfather clock and you gulped.

“Yeah,” you, Steve, Dustin, and Eddie responded simultaneously.

“Is this what you saw?” inquired Nancy. “In your visions?”

“I mean…it’s just a clock…right?” muttered Robin as she pushed past everyone and wiped the dust off the glass lid of the clock. “Like a normal old clock.”

“Why is this wizard obsessed with clocks?” Steve shrugged his shoulders. “Maybe he’s, like, a clockmaker or something?”

“Or, or,” Eddie snapped his fingers and pointed at the boy. “He’s a time traveler and different clocks are gateways to different timelines!” exclaimed the metal head excitedly and you and Dustin looked at them with aggravation.

“Could you guys save this for later?”

“No, Y/N, let them be. I think they just cracked the case,” said Dustin sarcastically and you hummed in agreement before the two of you turned away simultaneously, leaving Steve and Eddie to look at one another with confused expressions.

“Okay, guys,” Nancy drew everyone’s attention. “Everyone stay in groups of two and let’s spread out,” she instructed and no one hesitated to follow through with it.

Nancy and Robin headed upstairs, Lucas and Max went to the living room, Dustin and Eddie stalked towards some other room, and you and Steve followed after the girls, climbing the stairs carefully.

For some reason, you felt compelled to go to a certain room you established as the bathroom. Steve followed you with furrowed eyebrows but didn’t say anything as you crouched down by the vent and took off the intricate top. Your breath hitched when you saw a couple of jars inside.

“What’s this?” asked Steve as he crouched by your side and took a jar to inspect.

“Black widows,” you whispered as you looked up, only to see a spider crawling on Steve’s shoulder.

You let out a scream as you swatted it away, startling Steve in the process and making him drop the jar as he fell on his butt, the glass shattering loudly.

“What was that!?” he yelled panicked.

“A spider!”

“What!?”

“I got rid of it,” you attempted to calm him down while his head shifted from side to side in a frenzy to check if the insect was still on him, causing the light from his flashlight to dance wildly across the floor and the walls. “It’s okay, it’s not on you anymore.”

“Jesus,” breathed out the boy and you sent him a sympathetic smile.

“What happened!?” exclaimed Nancy worriedly as she rushed into the bathroom and you waved a hand dismissively.

“Nothing, we’re good. It was just a spider.”

“Yikes.”

“Mhm.”

Steve quickly stood up and reached out for you. You gladly took his hand and he hauled you up on your feet, the two of you exiting the bathroom and shutting the door.

“Don’t go in there,” Steve told Nancy as he shot one last suspicious look at the door as if it had personally offended him before he headed for the mirror nearby to take a look at his hair.

“If there’s a spider in there, you’re never gonna find it till it lays eggs and the babies spill out,” quipped Robin with a shit-eating grin and Steve deadpanned.

“What’s wrong with you!?”

Suddenly, you felt a familiar gust of energy and whirled on your heels.

“What is it?” asked your boyfriend but you answered not as you marched back to the staircase and saw the lights downstairs flicker.

Max looked up at you and even in the dark, you could see the fear in her eyes that she was trying so hard to conceal. After that, you spread out in order to look for Vecna. Steve didn’t feel comfortable with letting you go on your own at all.

“Hey, uhm, I know I’m probably being paranoid but, can you just, put these on?” he asked as he handed you the walkman and the headphones and you let out a breathy chuckle, wordlessly taking them off his hands and putting them on. He sent you a small smile before everyone went on their own way to explore the house more and to follow the different flickering lights in an attempt at locating Vecna.

But something kept you nailed to your spot and you felt a strong energy coming from a door to your right. You opened it and a narrow staircase was revealed in front of you.

You gulped and pressed play and "Everybody Wants to Rule the World" by Tears for Fears rolled.

[I picked Lorde's version because it's more eerie but feel free to listen to either version :) ]

“Welcome to your life

There's no turning back

Even while we sleep

We will find you…”

You took a shaky breath as you began climbing, not being able to see or hear the door closing behind you. Barely a minute later, you found yourself in the very same attic you’d been dreaming of for the longest time. You almost expected to see the little boy, holding a jar full of spiders. You almost expected the room to get flooded and swallowed by the ocean as it often happened in your dreams.

But none of this happened.

“Help me make the most

Of freedom and of pleasure

Nothing ever lasts forever

Everybody wants to rule the world.”

“Hello, Y/N,” sounded a familiar voice you could hear over the music as if it was resonating inside your head, and your eyes widened when Billy stepped out from behind the clutter, looking just as bloody and disheveled as he did during the battle at the mall, veins protruding, blood black as tar coating his whole body, holes from the monster’s vines visible even with the black substance running over them. He was a living corpse, standing in front of you. “I’ve been waiting so long for you.”

“No,” you whispered. “This isn’t real. It’s just another hallucination.”

“Is it?” he asked as he strutted closer and you took a step back. He took one forward, and you took another back, and just like that, you entered a dance of steps that eventually ended when you hit a wall and he cornered you against it.

The song replayed and you wondered if maybe you should’ve chosen another one because this one didn’t seem to be getting you out of the situation you had fallen into.

“You, you, you,” muttered the boy with his typical angry grin, running his tongue over his lower lip as he leaned and placed a hand by your head, which made you turn your head to the side, not being able to face him. “You abandoned me,” he spat out angrily and you shut your eyes tightly, fingers curling and nails digging into the wood you were pressed against, wishing it could swallow you. “You had the opportunity to save me…twice…and you just let me die.”

“I promise I tried,” you whispered and he lifted the hand that had been resting next to your head and curled it into a fist. You thought he’d hit you, but he just hit the same spot again. Nevertheless, it still made you flinch.

“No,” he growled. “You didn’t try hard enough. None of you did! You abandoned me… Do you know what it felt like? Chugging toxic chemicals? Your insides turning into mush? And being alive through it all, feeling every burning sensation? I was rotting and I was alive throughout it!” he roared and your lips trembled as a choked sob tore out of your throat. “And afterwards, what? What, what?!” he asked with a mocking grin as his other hand grabbed your chin and forced you to look at him. “What, you think that surfing for the both of us and enjoying the ocean is something to cherish my memory through?” he bit out and you gulped, eyes watering. “You think I’d be happy that you got to live and enjoy doing things I used to love doing? That it would somehow make me feel at peace? Or were you just trying to make yourself feel at peace!? To lessen the burden of guilt,” he barked out, some of the blood landing on you and making your stomach churn with nausea as if you weren’t feeling sick enough already.

“I’m sorry,” you muttered shakily and pitifully and he snorted.

“If you’re so sorry…then just come to me,” he drawled and your eyes widened. “That’s where you belong anyway. That’s where you’re supposed to be. You just got lucky and escaped death, but you can’t run away forever.”

“Y/N!” someone was calling you.

“You want to finally ease that guilt and self-hate? Get rid of them for good? Just come with me,” he whispered and you gulped.

“Y/N!” the voice was more clear now, sharper, and you looked at the attic door before back at Billy, features contorting into disbelief when you saw he wasn’t there.

You felt like you were going mad.

You pushed yourself off the wall and took a step forward, eyes darting wildly across the room in search of the bloodied ghost but there was nobody. You were alone. And then you came to your senses and piercing pain shot through both your hands. You lifted them so you could inspect them and found some of your nails broken and bloody, one of them you had even managed to tear off its nail bed.

"There's a room where the light won't find you

Holding hands while the walls come tumbling down

When they do I'll be right behind you"

“We were calling for you but you were nowhere in sight,” added Eddie breathlessly, the panic still noticeable in his tone and demeanor. “Thank God Max here noticed the attic door.”

“Are you alright?”

“So glad we've almost made it

So sad they had to fade it

Everybody wants to rule the world

Everybody wants to rule the world.”

Tags: @anxiousbeech @ashstorm24 @leireggsworld @burns-in-the-sun @ooenjoythesilenceoo @we-out-here-simping

#recs #f: stranger things #p: steve harrington #l: series #g: angst #g: hurt comfort #au: byers reader #a: thetargaryenbride #sh: series #sh: angst #sh: hurt comfort #sh: byers reader #sh: thetargaryenbride #read: october 2023

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annab-recs · 6 months

Text

Nail To The Coffin - S4 - Chapter 4

Warnings: confronting trauma

Pairing: Steve Harrington x f!Byers!Reader

Word Count: 5857

𝐀𝐍: 𝘕𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘢𝘺 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳. 𝘐𝘵'𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘯 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘸𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 :)

𝐀𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬, 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐝𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐢𝐟 𝐈’𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐎𝐎𝐂 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐫��𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲. 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘏𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘪𝘵! 🖤 🥀

Masterlist || Chapter 3 || Chapter 5

“It was here…Right here!” said Max as she pointed her flashlight at the wall up front.

“A grandfather clock?” asked Nancy unsurely.

“It was so real. And then, when I got closer, suddenly I just…woke up,” she breathed out the last word, and Steve, Eddie, Dustin, and Robin shared a look before diverting it to you, then to Max, and back to the wall.

Back in the counselor’s office, while skimming through the papers, Max had blanked out, and never mind how many times Steve, Eddie, and Dustin had called her name in an attempt at snapping her out of it, she hadn’t budged.

“It was like she was in a trance or something,” spoke out Dustin.

“It was…quite spooky, man,” Eddie huffed as he ran a hand through his hair. “It was like, sorta what happened to Chrissy, just…just without the-the floating,” he gulped as he looked at you nervously, eyebrows furrowing when he noticed your unfocused eyes staring unblinkingly at the floor. “Hey,” he snapped his fingers in front of your face and your head shot up, turning to the side so you could look at him.

“What?” you grumbled and he let out the breath he was holding.

“Don’t do shit like that, man, you gave me a scare for a moment there,” he whispered.

“There’s…something else you need to know,” Max turned to face you with an uncertain expression before she moved past you and you had to follow her back to the office, unease increasing with each step you took. “Fred and Chrissy, they both came to Miss Kelley for help,” began the girl once you reached the counselor’s desk and Robin plopped on the chair, hand running over the papers. “Uh, they were both having headaches, bad headaches that wouldn’t go away. And then…then the nightmares…trouble sleeping,” she explained, trying to keep her voice steady, and you gulped, looking at Steve who seemed to share your distress. “They’d wake up in cold sweat. Then they started seeing things…Bad things…From their pasts…These visions, they just, they kept on getting worse and worse, until eventually…everything ended,” she finished.

“Vecna’s curse,” uttered Robin.

“Chrissy’s headaches started a week ago. Fred’s, six days ago…I’ve been having them for five days,” she admitted and everyone felt like someone punched them in the gut. “I don’t know how long I have. All I know is that, for Fred and Chrissy, they both died less than twenty-four hours after their first vision. And I just saw that goddamned clock, so,” she waved her hand as her voice cracked and you felt your heart constrict painfully. “Looks like I’m gonna die tomorrow.”

Before you could say something or bring her in for a hug, there was a clanging sound that seemed to echo throughout the whole school, startling all of you.

“Stay here,” said Steve as he didn’t hesitate to grab the large lamp near the door and head out.

“Oh, hell no,” you muttered before following right after him, ignoring Eddie and Dustin’s protests which forced them to come after you.

The group moved slowly and hesitantly towards the crossroad of corridors as more clattering sounds came from there and increased in volume which meant whoever or whatever was making them was nearby. Then it transitioned into the sound of footsteps that eventually rounded the corner and just when Steve was ready to hit the person with the lamp, it turned out to be Lucas, making you all drop your fists and lower your ‘weapons’.

“It’s me!” he wailed once everyone stopped yelling and calmed down.

“Lucas!?”

“It’s me!”

“Jesus, what’s wrong with you!?” barked out Steve, still on edge.

“I’m sorry.”

“I could’ve taken you out with this lamp!”

“Sorry, guys. Sorry,” wheezed the boy and you let out a breath of relief, adrenaline lowering bit by bit. “I was,” he gasped out. “I was biking for eight miles. Give me a second,” he raised a finger as he tried to calm his breathing. “Shit. We’ve got a code red.”

“What?” asked Steve but Lucas ignored him and marched straight towards Dustin.

“Dustin! I’ve been with Jason, Patrick, and Andy, and they’ve gone totally off the rails. They’re trying to capture Eddie,” he revealed as he turned to look at the others, noticing the boy in question, eyes widening slightly at the sight of him. “-and they think you know where he is which you-you apparently do. You’re in terrible danger. You all are. We all are,” he explained out of breath and everyone shared concerned looks.

“But Lucas, why would they chase Eddie? The police have not revealed his name as a suspect and they never will because we spoke to them and gave Eddie an alibi,” you furrowed your eyebrows. “What, are they gunning for him just because the crime took place at his trailer?” you asked incredulously and Lucas nodded.

“And because they know that Chrissy went to buy drugs from him which they think it’s an impossible thing for her to do. They immediately jumped to the conclusion that it must’ve been Eddie who forcefully drugged and killed her. They’re so not the sharpest crayons in the box.”

“Look, fuck Jason. We can deal with him later. We’ve got bigger problems on our hands now.”

“Thanks,” muttered Max when you placed a cup of hot chocolate on the dining table she was currently occupying, briefly interrupting her writing.

Lucas was utterly devastated when he learned everything. After breaking the horrifying news to him, you decided to return back to your house and bunk up for the night, this time with two extra people tagging along – Nancy and Lucas.

Although, to be fair, you didn’t feel like sleeping at all and you believed the others shared the sentiment. You all wanted to keep an eye on Max, fearing she’d be taken at any moment.

“Y/N,” Max blurted out, dropping the pen, just when you turned around in order to go back to the kitchen, and you whirled on your heels to look at her questioningly. “I worry about you,” she confessed which drew the others’ attention.

“What? You-you don’t have to, Max, I’m-“

“Don’t say fine,” she cut you off and you tightened your lips. “It’s like you forget or purposely ignore what happened yesterday. I almost thought…I almost thought you lost your mind when I saw you in the bathroom. But now it makes sense. You have visions too,” you opened your mouth to protest but she interrupted before you could. “Just admit it.”

“Yes, Max, I have weirdly vivid, spooky visions, alright?” you huffed, running a hand through your hair. “But I’ve been having them since last summer. It’s nothing new, okay? Headaches, nightmares, hallucinations, I’ve had them since Billy-“ you cut yourself off and squeezed your eyes shut, letting out a long exhale. “Look, I’m sorry I scared you. But now’s not the time to worry about my messed-up head. You’re the one who’s in danger here. Focus on yourself,” you then turned to address the others. “Focus on thinking of ways to prevent a…disastrous outcome.”

You then returned to the kitchen counter to proceed with the task you had in mind, leaving the others to simmer in maddening thoughts and plans. You had purposely omitted the fact that while you really have had visions, nightmares, headaches, etc, since Billy’s death, they had only increased and had gotten more vivid and scary these recent weeks, especially in the past days. But you really didn’t want to put too much thought into them and you certainly didn’t want to jump to the conclusion that they were somehow related to Vecna.

But Max’s were for sure and so you had to focus on that. You had to focus on finding a way to help her. You didn’t want to lose her too. You weren’t sure you’d be able to survive such a blow this time around.

“Max is right, you know?” Steve’s voice startled you and you sighed shakily, hands shuddering in response and almost spilling the liquid outside the mugs you were trying to fill.

“Not you too,” you berated him tiredly. “I told you. Those visions and nightmares are things I’ve been dealing with for almost a year now. They can’t be the same as the ones Max, Fred, and…Chrissy had,” you began piling sweets onto a plate, trying to keep your hands busy otherwise you were sure they’d start shaking.

You never liked talking about those nightmares. You rarely did even with your family. Most of the time, you just had to because they were there to witness it. They struggled and suffered enough alongside you throughout the aftermath of your self-harm so you hated troubling them with other things that most probably began occurring as a result of the harsh months you had.

“But what if they are?” pressed the boy and you let out a loud puff of air.

“The only thing that will convince me that those visions are a result of Vecna’s curse is if I get a nosebleed too.”

“Y/N-“

You cut him off by shoving an éclair into his mouth, making him recoil as his hand flew to grab the dessert that was sticking out, teeth clamping down on it, and separating it in two. You snorted at his dumbfounded expression and the cream that got smeared all over his mouth, then you reached out and wiped it off with your finger before you brought it to your mouth and licked it clean. Then you leaned in and captured his lips in a quick, sweet, kiss. He sighed and rolled his eyes but you knew he wasn’t actually frustrated with you. Just concerned.

“Be a dear and take these,” you handed him the tray with a couple of mugs and a plate, and he looked at you with narrowed eyes.

“This isn’t over,” he promised, mouth still full, as he shoved the other half of the éclair into his mouth and took the tray off your hands, struggling to balance it for a while as he walked away from you.

You let out a sigh, turning your back on the rest as you were finally left alone in the kitchen. Well, not entirely because your kitchen, dining room, and living room were sort of connected so you could still hear and see everyone from your place, but you were glad that they weren’t breathing down your neck like Steve had. It was unnerving and suffocating.

You let out a hiss, hand flying to grasp your forehead and rub it because you were suddenly hit by a sharp, piercing headache that almost made you see stars and black dots began swimming in your vision.

Then, you felt a bizarre sensation, like something trickling down your cupid bow.

When you opened your eyes, they widened in shock when they saw a few red droplets staining the clean counter. Your hand left your forehead and moved to your nose, fingers running over a thick substance.

And when you pulled them away for inspection, you found them coated in blood.

“Bloody hell…” you whispered.

It’s like any words got stuck in your throat and your body froze in shock. You were absolutely petrified.

“Y/N? You alright?” asked Nancy and you quickly wiped your nose, turned the tap on, and washed off the offending substance under the aggressive stream of water.

“Y-yeah, I’m good,” you managed to stutter out as you hastily took a napkin and wiped the dirtied spot on the counter. “J-just cleaning up something I spilled,” you cleared your throat and she furrowed her eyebrows.

“Do you need help?”

For some reason, this question made your gut twist painfully.

“No…No, I…I don’t need help…I’m… fine…”

The Following Morning

Almost no one was able to even blink for the night. Dustin and Eddie were probably the only ones who managed to get some shut-eye, even if it was only for a few hours. Steve only dozed on and off but stayed awake for most of the evening while you, Lucas, Max, Robin, and Nancy barely even batted your eyelashes.

You let out a sigh as you washed your hands, the blood from last night not leaving your mind. In fact, you were still able to see it staining your fingers, even though you knew it was not there. Your mind was playing tricks on you and you hoped it wouldn’t drive you nuts.

“Everything okay?” asked Eddie from the kitchen entrance and the short conversation you had with Nancy last night replayed in your head.

“All is good,” you replied as you grabbed two cups of coffee and turned around, easily plastering a fake smile onto your face as you neared your best friend and handed him a mug which he gladly took but he didn’t look convinced at your words.

“How can Vecna have existed in the fifty’s? It doesn’t make sense,” you heard Steve comment as you two walked into the living room and Eddie took his place on the armrest of the armchair Dustin was sitting on while you leaned against the couch, looming over Steve.

“Far as we know, Eleven didn’t create the Upside Down,” butted in Dustin. “She opened a gate to it.”

“Imagine,” added Eddie as he took a bite of his food. “The Upside Down has probably been around for thousands of years,” he spoke through munching and then paused, eyes widening. “Maybe even millions! I wouldn’t be surprised if it predated the dinosaurs!” he exclaimed while waving around the hand that held the plate and you took it off his hands and placed it onto the table so he wouldn’t accidentally drop something on the floor.

“Whoa, dinosaurs?” Steve threw his arms with a scrunched-up face. “What are we going on about here?”

“Don’t talk with a full mouth,” you chided Eddie and he stuck out his tongue at you before taking another bite.

“Okay, but if a gate didn’t exist in the fifty’s, how did Vecna get through?” asked Lucas.

“And how’s he getting through now?” backed him up Steve.

“And why now?”

“And why then? Just pops out in the fifty’s, kills one family, and he’s like, “I’m good”, and then poof, he just disappears. Just…gone?” gesticulated Steve with furrowed eyebrows. “Only to return thirty years later and start killing random teens? No, I don’t buy it. Straightforward, my ass. You know, Henderson, Munson, a little humility every now and then, it wouldn’t hurt you.”

“Sorry,” echoed the two boys simultaneously and you rubbed the bridge of your nose, sharing a look with Nancy and Robin, the three of you clearly thinking how silly boys could be sometimes.

“So, what do we do exactly? Should we search the whole town for a gate or something? I mean, if there’s even a gate. Like, how does this guy work? Do we have to use blood as bait again or what?” inquired Steve as he casually threw the booklet he’s been holding onto the table and Nancy, Robin, and you shared another look.

“We were…actually thinking of something else,” you began while Nancy set her mug away and stood up to go grab her bag.

“Thanks to Nancy’s newspaper minions, we are now rock-star psychology students at the University of Notre Dame,” explained Robin excitedly as Nancy fished out a folder and flung it on the table so everyone could open and take a look.

“I’m Ruth.”

“And I’m Rose.”

“Nice GPA,” commented Dustin.

“Thanks,” smiled Nancy. “So, we called Pennhurst Asylum, told them we’d like to speak with Victor Creel for a thesis we’re co-writing on paranoid schizophrenics,” she explained.

“To which they said no,” added Robin.

“But we landed a three o’clock with the director.”

“Now, all we have to do is charm him and convince him to let us talk to Victor.”

“Then maybe we can find a way to break Max’s curse,” finished Nancy and the boys glanced at each other.

“Hold on, I don’t see Y/N’s documents,” pointed out Eddie with furrowed eyebrows and crossed arms while peeking over Dustin’s shoulder, and you sighed.

“I’m not going with them. I’d like to stay and keep an eye on Max,” you told them and Steve took the folder off Dustin’s hands to skim through it.

“But, it would’ve made more sense and it would’ve been more plausible to include you in this. I mean, you’re actually part of a prestigious university and you could’ve used the excuse of writing an assignment on historical murderers or something,” pointed out Lucas. “Besides, if the director decides to double check your identity, you’d be plausible and safe, while Nancy and Robin-“

“We did think about this, Lucas. I understand it would be safer if I go with them but…I don’t want to leave Max’s side. Not for a second,” you admitted quietly, eyes darting between the lonesome redhead at the table and the boy. “I thought you’d understand,” you muttered and he exhaled heavily.

“We’ll be fine. I know we can handle it,” intervened Nancy, backing you up. “And I don’t think they’re going to double-check if we present ourselves well enough.”

“We thought this through.”

“Wait, wait…wait a second,” stuttered out Steve, lifting his head from the papers and facing the girls. “Where’s mine?”

Steve had thrown a fit over the fact that he had to babysit again and you were probably the only one who was happy about him being ‘stuck’ with your group instead of going with Nancy and Robin. You needed him to be next to you and keep battling off the demons that tried to make their return and sink their claws into you again.

“I know you guys are staring at me,” grumbled Max and the boys quickly shuffled to do something and pretend they haven’t been doing exactly what she accused them of.

“What?”

“Sorry?”

“You said you needed something?”

“We’re just…hanging out.”

You snorted as you half turned to look at the girl from your place at the kitchen counter and she met your gaze, the two of you rolling your eyes.

“How you think your eyes boring into the back of my head is protecting me from Vecna, I don’t know,” she sighed while stacking the letters she’s been writing and stood up, and you wiped your hands on the towel before curiously following the girl into the living room. “You can look at me,” she said exasperatedly and the boys shifted in their seats awkwardly.

“Sorry.”

“For you,” she handed Dustin a letter and he looked at her weirdly but took it nonetheless. “For you,” she proceeded to hand each person a letter and before you were about to say something, she turned to you. “And…this is for you,” she handed you yours and your gaze lingered on hers, making her fidget uncomfortably because she knew what you were trying to silently convey before you finally took the item and looked away. “Also, give these to Mike, El, and Will once you get back to LA,” she muttered while handing you the rest of the letters and you sighed, taking them wordlessly.

“I’m sorry, what is this?” asked Dustin timidly and that’s maybe the first time you’ve heard him speak so quietly and unsurely as if afraid to receive an answer, a stark contrast to his usual boisterous self.

“It’s, uhm…It’s a fail-safe,” answered the girl. “For after…If things don’t work out.”

“Wait, whoa, Max,” interrupted her Lucas with a distressed tone and expression. “Things are going to work out,” he tried to sound positive but everybody knew deep down he was hesitant.

“No!” she snapped at him. “No, I don’t need you to reassure me and tell me it’s all gonna work out. People have been telling me that my entire life and it’s almost never true,” she bit out. “It’s never true…I mean, of course, this asshole curses me,” her tone lost its bite all of a sudden and she sounded like someone who has completely given up. “Should’ve seen that one coming,” and with each word that left her lips, it’s like realization dawned upon the guys even more and made them shrink in their seats as the atmosphere became even more hopeless and depressing.

“But-” began the boy again.

“Lucas,” you cut him off before he could open his mouth to spill out more of his thoughts and he looked at you with both confusion and hope, maybe hoping that you’d back him up or something. “We’re heading into the unknown…Nothing is certain…Don’t give her false promises,” you muttered and his shoulders sagged.

You sent Max a look as you squeezed her shoulder and she sent you a small grateful smile, her hand flying to grasp yours briefly before you walked away from the group and into your room so you could safely store the letters she wrote for Will, Mike, and El.

You were going to keep yours in your bag.

After that, Max had demanded, or more likely threatened, Steve to take her to her home, saying that she didn’t want to spend what was possibly the last day of her life cooped up inside, doing nothing, and you agreed with that. You would have done the same had you been in her shoes. Staying in one place was only bound to make a person go insane.

But what hit you like a brick, was her desire to go visit Billy’s grave.

You hadn’t set foot in the graveyard for almost a year and now you were going to do it twice in just what, two days? Three? It was quite bizarre to you.

When you parked as nearby to the grave as you could, she bolted out of the car, and Lucas right after her.

“I’m not okay with letting her go alone,” you murmured and Steve hummed in agreement. You spent a little while in silence, staring motionlessly ahead of you, before you threw open the door and headed out, silently approaching the two teens that seemed to be in a heated conversation, especially on Lucas’ side.

“I don’t need a letter,” said the boy. “I don’t want a letter. Just talk to me. To your friends. We’re right here…I’m right here. Okay? I’m here,” he finished desperately and she just stared at him before brushing past him.

“Just wait in the car. This won’t be long-“

“Max,” you called out and she halted in her steps, turning around halfway to see you slowly approach the boy and pat his shoulder before nodding your head towards the vehicle, signaling him to return, and he spared Max one last glance before dejectedly going back to the others.

That left only the two of you, facing each other. You sighed before averting your gaze and closing the distance bit by bit.

“Look, if you wanna visit Billy, you can come with me. It’s fine-“

“I just wanted to tell you something,” you cut her off and she turned around fully, showing you that she was giving you all her attention. “Lucas was right back there, you know? Vecna seems to be targeting people with trauma…damaged people…who haven’t taken a step forward in order to heal,” you took a deep breath as you began hesitantly. “You’re one of those people…But maybe…just maybe…if you make an effort and take that step…maybe you’ll have a better chance at winning this fight. And it’s okay to admit it,” you took another step forward so you could place your hand on her shoulder. “I get it, you’re trying to be tough for everyone, you’re trying to present yourself as someone who doesn’t care if they die…But I know better than anyone…No matter how tough you think you are, no matter how tough you present yourself to be…you’re weak and broken,” you stated as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, gesticulating weakly, and Max’s eyes widened ever so slightly. “And when you’re broken and weak, monsters start lurking…Monsters like Vecna who want to take over, who steal the little bit of sanity you have left until there’s nothing,” you folded your lips and gulped. “I went through this for a long time…I was only able to fight off those demons because of my beloved people helping me every time. And even then, it’s not like they left…No. They’re still here, lurking somewhere in the depths of my mind, waiting for an opportunity to jump out and sink their claws in me again. You’re going through the same, I know it. But because you haven’t asked for help, because you haven’t turned to your friends and family, you’re alone. You’re fighting a losing battle and Vecna is taking advantage of this…Max, it’s okay to admit that you need help. It’s okay to ask for help. Humans are weak and dependant on others to begin with…since being born…there’s no shame in that. In fact, I think it’s beautiful because asking for help is something that brings us together,” you sent her a small smile. “I know it’s easier to give up. It’s easier to seek relief and peace in death even,” you continued, smile faltering, and her eyes widened drastically, looking wildly into yours as if you had just discovered something you shouldn’t have, or exposed something you shouldn’t have.

“I-“

“Max, do you take me for a fool? Did you think I wouldn’t notice your behavioral patterns?” you asked, shaking your head, and she shut her mouth, head lowering as she was unable to look you in the eyes. Was it out of guilt or embarrassment or something else, you couldn’t pinpoint. Perhaps a bit of everything. “Let’s face it head-on, Max, you have thought of ending it all just as much as I have. I saw the way you reacted when you saw my scars,” you whispered and she shut her eyes, biting her lower lip. You sighed softly as you lifted a hand to tuck a fallen strand of hair behind her ear before you placed it on her shoulder again. “For you, it hasn’t yet manifested physically, which is great,” you exclaimed and she opened her eyes, looking briefly at you before lowering them back onto her feet. “But anything besides physically…it’s bad. With time, it’s going to fester and slowly take over your body until you begin doing it physically. Take it from me, that’s not the way. If you don’t wanna do it for yourself, at least think of your mom, of Lucas, of everyone else. If you don’t wanna fight for yourself, fight for them. Don’t give Vecna the pleasure. It’s hard to find the strength to take this one step forward but you have to do it, Max, you just have to,” you spoke firmly, squeezing her shoulder. “But you can’t do it all alone. You can’t win this fight alone. So please, rely on us some more.”

“You told Lucas not to give me false hope and now you’re doing the same,” she muttered after a moment of silence and you let out a gentle snort.

“That’s different. I’m not just saying words of encouragement just for the sake of encouragement. Or reassuring you that everything will be okay when in fact, it’s all incredibly uncertain…I’m just giving you…an idea…advice…a possible solution to try out. Because after all, even if the situation is uncertain and is progressively leaning more towards ‘disastrous’, it doesn’t mean we should just give up the fight. Laying down and admitting defeat while someone else walks over us is not how we do things,” another smile resurfaced and you were glad to see that this time Max seemed to share the sentiment, the two of you sharing a silent understanding. “Off you go now,” you nodded in the direction of the grave and she slowly backed away before turning around and walking off.

Shortly after, you heard her begin talking. You didn’t want to eavesdrop but at the same time, you didn’t really want to put too much distance between the two of you, just in case something happened. So you just moved away and began pacing slowly, allowing her words to turn into soft inaudible humming in the background while your mind focused on other things – such as how you found yourself visiting Billy and Hopper again but this time around you had no words to speak to the dead.

You already told them everything you had kept locked inside of you – in the form of a complete word vomit on top of all. What else were you supposed to say? What did people usually talk about to the dead anyways? Were you supposed to say that you missed them? That you wished they were here with you or something? That was pretty obvious, wasn’t it? Or were you supposed to keep a diary and write paragraph after paragraph as you sat by their graves? Were you supposed to rant to them? To tell them of every detail that happened in your daily life as if they were alive and this was just any normal day of you catching up?

Were they even going to hear you if you did speak to them? Some people believed that spirits lingered in the realm of the living. Some believed in heaven and hell and that those who died and went to heaven were watching over their living loved ones and listening to them. Some believed in reincarnations in which case there was no point in talking because the dead would’ve reincarnated as a wailing babe somewhere around the world or even in some other dimension. You – who were fascinated by many different cultures and religions – didn’t know what to believe in.

The ancient Egyptians believed the most significant thing you could do in your life was die that life on earth was only one part of an eternal journey which ended, not in death, but in everlasting joy. They believed that each person’s afterlife was different – a mirror image of their mortal life at its best where they could meet and spend eternity with their loved people who have died or who would die in the future.

Maybe you could stick with this one for a while?

The thought of Hopper being reunited with Sarah warmed your heart.

“What am I supposed to say anyways?” you muttered under your breath as you crossed your arms and kept pacing slowly, feet drawing patterns into the soil underneath. “You guys wouldn’t believe what’s been going on since your passing. There has been a miraculous return of the villain we’ve been fighting for years and it seems things are much worse now. Max has fallen into a death trap and I’ve been getting the same symptoms as her so maybe we’re both cursed and on the way to join y’all!” you snorted as you uncrossed your arms and pressed your palms together, bringing them to your nose and resting your face against them, shutting your eyes close. “Osiris, give me strength. Going to my A’aru sounds tempting but now’s so not the time. Don’t send me there yet,” you groaned quietly.

Steve watched you pace, mutter to yourself, rub the bridge of your nose in frustration, and he couldn’t help but feel concern. Concern for Max, for you, for Eddie – well, at least Eddie’s case was solved so there was one thing less to worry about but that didn’t change the fact that the boy was traumatized by what he witnessed and felt like a failure for not being to protect Chrissy – for the whole situation in general. Everything was going from bad to worse, the control and somewhat normality were slipping through your fingers, and none of you could do anything about it. It was maddening.

Feeling someone’s gaze burning holes through you made you look up and finally lock eyes with Steve and Eddie who watched you like hawks, and you sent them a small smile and a shrug. But then, it’s like realization pierced you like a spear when you finally got snapped out of your racing thoughts and strained your ears only to hear nothing. Max’s voice which was like humming in the background had gone silent, and suddenly, your whole body got wracked with chills, making you turn around sharply.

Steve, seeing the way your face fell, snapped his attention on Max, having the same realization dawn upon him. Simultaneously, he jumped out of the car while you dashed to the girl sitting on the ground cross-legged. Eddie, Dustin, and Lucas looked at the two of you in alarm before following hot on your heels.

“Max?” you called out as you came to a screeching halt and knelt next to her. You barely contained a shocked gasp when you saw the way her eyes had rolled to the back of her head and the veins around them had bulged painfully while the miniature vessels in her sclera were glaringly red.

“Max!” Steve’s panicked yell mixed with yours as his sprint came to a stop and he threw himself on the ground next to you, grabbing the girl’s shoulder and shaking her, Lucas, Eddie, and Dustin joining you.

“Wha-wha-what’s going o- Jesus Christ!” yelled Eddie once he saw the girl’s condition and all hell broke loose after that.

You didn’t know how much you called out to her. You didn’t know how many times you tried to wake her up or how many tears you shed as you thought that was it, she was going to die. At one point, the sound of a grandfather clock pierced your eardrums. It was much scarier than the sound of mechanical clocks you used to hear. It felt like someone was counting your minutes – minutes of remaining life.

And then, an invisible force lifted her into the air and you could only watch in shock, not being able to do anything. Steve grabbed you by the shoulders and held you tightly while you looked up. Not even Nancy and Robin’s advice to use music seemed to help.

That’s what you thought initially when Max opened her eyes and came to her senses, the invisible force that held her strung up like a puppet on strings released her and she fell right into your arms.

And as she muttered a breathless “I’m still here,” in an attempt to reassure you all she was fine, that she was alive, your tears couldn’t stop falling. She had such a close brush with death and suddenly you got reminded of the way you felt when you thought Will could’ve died a couple of years back.

Panic gripped at your heart and squeezed painfully and you couldn’t stop thinking of how history seemed to be repeating itself, but this time around it was scarier, because the enemy you were up against was, thus far, invisible.

You didn’t know how you were going to fight against something of such magnitude. Not only Max, but all of you were fighting a losing battle. You were lost.

And the clock was ticking.

Tags: @anxiousbeech @ashstorm24 @leireggsworld @burns-in-the-sun @ooenjoythesilenceoo @we-out-here-simping 🖤

#recs #f: stranger things #p: steve harrington #l: series #g: fluff #g: angst #g: hurt comfort #au: byers reader #a: thetargaryenbride #sh: series #sh: fluff #sh: angst #sh: hurt comfort #sh: byers reader #sh: thetargaryenbride #read: october 2023

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annab-recs · 7 months

Note

i always imagine peter’s hair as fluffy but yk how when it’s wet it curls. imagine seeing nerdy peter’s hair wet/curly for the first time

i picture he has fluffy curly hair?? it’s much more curly when it’s wet but they’re not as defined when dry.

but (and this is projecting) i love me some curls. so obv, reader does too.

---

‘oh my god!’

peter jumps, you have a finger pointed behind him. ‘oh my god!’ he starts to spin around, ‘what? what is it?’

you can’t form words, all you can think of is ‘oh my god?!’ peter whines out for you, he doesn’t know what’s freaking you out. ‘c'mon, help me out, you’re scaring me.’

peter assumes he has a spider on him, he doesn’t know how he can’t sense it, but your quick calls for him to come closer makes him guess you’re about to swipe him clean.

until your hands dig into his hair, peter shakes you off before stepping back. 'hey, c'mon now. i just washed it.' he did. he also tried to style it, but nothing could hide those coils.

'curls.' your hands have a mind of their own but peter dodges the attack. a pout covers your face, 'curls?'

'i'm saddened to know you've been blind up to this point, but very happy you finally noticed them.' he's having fun with it, you're not. you never get to see them like this.

'peter!' your grabby hands don't do anything, it makes you feel slightly grumpy. all you wanted to do was fawn over the baby curls kissing his ears.

'fine, you have dumb hair. and stupid curls. and... it's too long.'

peter raises an eyebrow, his arms cross over his chest. 'oh really?' you're being challenged, you can't back down. an unconfident head nod was your response.

'thank god you said something, cause i thought you liked it long, but now i know i can cut it off and you won't mind.' you chew on your bottom lip while staring at the brunette.

'how short?' because there's some room to work around, you can handle a summer chop. your boyfriend shrugs, 'more than a buzzcut.'

the words hit you like a crowbar to the knees, you have to back down. you can't lose his curls, you can't. 'no! please no! i love your hair and your curls and it's not long enough!'

peter hits you with a sympathetic pout, 'oh? so, not dumb and stupid?' your feet lightly stomp the ground, 'they're extra curly today, c'mon, please?'

even if he's walking closer, he's still teasing you. 'it's insane how much power my hair has over you.' you light up, you can almost feel the soft pleats over your fingertips.

'yeah, yeah, yeah. can i have?' peter blocks your hands one more time, you're about to scream. 'you know they're mine, right?'

'sure. yeah, if that's what you need to believe.' peter tilts backwards when you reach out, you hate to be that person, but...

'i swear to fucking god, peter, if you ever want to see me naked again, you better let me grab 'em.' in under a millisecond you have your fingers twisted around his hair, a satisfied smile spreads. 'pretty curls.'

#recs #f: marvel #p: peter parker #l: blurb #g: fluff #a: webslingingslasher #pbp: blurb #pbp: fluff #pbp: webslingingslasher #read: october 2023

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annab-recs · 7 months

Text

no more tears — one-shot

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: it's halloween night, 1986. you want to celebrate your favorite holiday after the year you and your friends just had, but after being dumped by your, now ex, boyfriend a week before puts a damp on your plans. eddie munson, however, has a different plan for you.

word count: 5.3k

warnings: fluff, hurt/comfort, mutual pining, mentions of a past bad relationship, petty vengeance, protective!eddie, eddie being a sweetheart. eddie in a corset, eddie in leather pants (those are worthy warnings). drinking, smoking. implied smut towards the end.

author's note: happy, very early, halloween <3 i started writing this last year and originally, it was supposed to be a four-part series, and it became this one-shot. because of that, i'm sorry if it seems rushed, but i hope you enjoy it nonetheless.

Hawkins' suburban streets were a dull blur of white picket fences and houses that looked all the same, passing through the open windows of your car, despite the cold autumn wind blowing in. Even on Halloween night, where the air was full of childlike wonder and mischief, those same houses lit up with the same old seasonal decorations, the children going trick-or-treating, your school friends going out with the best of worst intentions. It all still felt dull to you.

Perhaps because you felt that dullness deep inside of you, dead to the world around you. Fitting for such a morbid holiday — your favorite holiday, completely ruined by someone else's decisions.

Your self-pitying thoughts were interrupted by the curly-haired freshman who was currently inspecting the tapes piled in your glove compartment. You watched with interest from the corner of your eye as Dustin clicks the radio to a stop, without asking, and inserts your Blizzard of Ozz tape in the cassette player.

As the first chords of I Don't Know started echoing through the car, you teased, "Since when do you like these?"

"Since when do you care about what I listen to?"

Most days, you could deal with the kid's presumption, it was quite endearing, actually. That night, though, all you managed was to sigh as dramatically as you could.

"You've been hanging out with Munson a little too much." You pointed, "What's next? You're gonna grow out your hair like Mike is doing?"

"Mike isn't growing his hair out because of… Oh."

"You used to be more observant, Dusty."

You smiled at his silly expression, blue eyes wide with realization. It was the first time they could bring out a smile from you that evening, and you could tell that the teens in the backseat could feel the tension lift a little bit.

The accidental mention of the metalhead made your mind wander once more. You wondered if you'd see him tonight, even if just for a moment, and if you'd be able to look and, perhaps, melt at one of his lazy smiles and cute dimples without feeling guilty for the first time since you met him.

If being able to reciprocate Eddie Munson's lingering stares was the reward you got after being suddenly broken up with a week before Halloween, then you could start seeing an end to your current misery.

You didn't let yourself hang on to false hope, though. You were still nursing a broken heart and delusion wasn't going to help with it — but going home to a warm blanket, cheap wine and a bunch of horror movie VHS tapes that your Family Video friends had graciously delivered to your house after a very persuasive phone call.

After years of friendship, Steve Harrington still couldn't resist your pouting, even from a distance.

"Don't be mean. You're being awfully mean today, did you know that? Loosen up a little." Dustin snapped, but with little bite to his words.

You turned to him again, "Can you blame me?"

"Leave her alone, butthead." From her place in the backseat, Erica Sinclair, in her meticulously pink Barbie costume, interjects. "She's already doing us a favor and you're trying to be a smartass?"

Her older brother and Max Mayfield completely ignored Erica and Dustin's following little back and forth, stuck in their own little teenage love affair — and if, for only a moment, you were jealous of the easy, uncomplicated way they talked and held hands in the small space between their bodies, you shook it off just as quickly — as you winked at the youngest Sinclair from the rearview mirror.

You'd never tell anyone, but Erica had always been your favorite.

Their conversation was once again forgotten, overshadowed by your racing thoughts and eagerness to get home as soon as you could, until you parked in front of Steve's house, where your younger friends would enjoy their official party of their High School years. There had been a long time without any ragers at Harringtons', not since Steve became one of the losers, but after the events of last Spring, he thought we could all use some innocent (probably not that innocent on his side, god only knows that boy needed to get laid), spooky fun.

You'd thoroughly agreed before your boyfriend, now ex-boyfriend, put an end to all of your plans.

"Listen," you started, shutting the door of the driver's side of your car a little too violently while the kids gathered up outside, "if you get in any kind of trouble, call me. If you're gonna drink, or do any kind of drugs…" You're interrupted by groans and whines of 'really?' and 'we're not going to!', "don't do it alone, okay? And drink lots of water! Better safe than sorry, babies."

Most of that advice was just to mess with them, you knew they weren't anything like you when you were their age, but you cared too much about those miscreants to pretend that monsters and secret government organizations were the only obstacles they'd have to face in their teen years.

It's all a flurry of rolling eyes and quiet mumblings of "okay, whatever, we weren't gonna do any of that anyway" before they leave across the street to find the host of the party that was slowly, but surely, starting to fill in, groups of people coming into the house from both sides of the street, music echoing through the walls and into the evening air. Your heart clenched, heavy in your chest, wishing you could let go of the ache that was pulling you down and allow yourself to feel alive again, maybe just for one night.

You just about missed the pair of warm, brown eyes that watched you slouch back into your car and drive away.

On the other side of the street, Eddie Munson stood on the pristine front yard of the Harringtons' house, taking a long hit of his cigarette and rubbing the back of his hand over the eyeshadow spread on his eye, cursing and coughing when he realized the black stain it left behind on his skin.

He was uncomfortable and bored, listening to the deep bass line of Blondie's rapture coming from the house behind him, Debbie Harry's soft voice lulling him into a steady rhythm. He knew he was pushing it, coming to a place full of people, of people who half hated him at worst, half mistrusted him at best, even after his name was cleared. Worst of all, none of them understood his costume, which, to him, was the biggest insult of all.

Not knowing who Alice Cooper was supposed to be was one of the biggest treasons in his own, personal, Munson doctrine.

Now, he stood there, regretting every decision he had made that night, his leather pants pulling a little too tight on his legs and feeling a little too tempted to scrub the black eyeshadow from his face, thinking about a way to let his friends down gently when he bails on them.

His discomfort lasted until he saw your car pull up, and suddenly, leaving felt like a very, very bad idea.

Eddie was used to admiring you from a distance. From when he saw you for the first time, that fateful night at Reefer Rick's boathouse, it was all he could do without making a fool of himself. He didn't know how to carry himself around you, too caught up on your beauty, on your wit, or on how absolutely unattainable you were, to actually become close to you.

He watched you as one would watch the midday sun, high in the sky, with a hand in front of his eyes, protecting himself from being fully consumed by your light.

When you exited the car — Henderson, Mayfield and the Sinclairs following close behind — he noticed two things: your lack of a costume (or, rather, the fact that you were wearing something that was probably your pajamas, and looked incredible while at it), and the lack of a douchebag boyfriend beside you.

Before he could walk over, perhaps use the kids as an excuse to talk to you, you left. Eddie was left halfway through the yard, a hand limp to his side as his cigarette laid long forgotten, and what must have been a ridiculous, confused expression on his face.

It didn't take long until Dustin and Erica found him, while Lucas and Max entered the house.

"Hey, uh… where's Y/L/N going? Is she not… Is she not staying?" He swore he tried to act casual, but he knew from the expression on both his friends' faces that he wasn't doing a great job.

"Does it look like she's staying?" Erica crossed her arms, looking as intimidating as a little girl in all pink and glitter could look like. All he did was raise an eyebrow, and got one eyebrow raised right back at him.

Dustin was more understanding, in his Luke Skywalker costume, orange pilot suit and all. "She's not feeling well, man. Steve asked her if she could drive us because Nancy was already driving Mike and the Byers, but she went home."

"Oh." Again, he tried, to no avail, to hide the disappointment in his voice. Eddie Munson was, by no means, a good actor. "Do you know what happened?"

The boy opened his mouth to answer, but Erica beat him to the punch. "You know, I think she could really use some company tonight. No one wants to be alone on Halloween night, don't you think?"

She pulled Dustin away and towards the front door, eyes wise beyond her years giving him one final look before disappearing inside.

Eddie knew she couldn't hear him as he screamed "I owe you one, Sinclair!" and rushed to the end of the street where his old van was parked, a sliver of hope and renewed excitement rushing through him like a live wire.

Scratch about what he said about regretting leaving his house that night, he had forgotten all about that as he sped to your place, a heavy guitar riff thundering hot on his trail.

You heard him before you saw him.

There was a horror film playing in your television, a blonde teenager running from a serial killer rolling on the screen, her terrified shrieks and the crescendo of the soundtrack filling the living room — not that you've been paying attention, you haven't been paying attention since a little after the beginning of the movie. You were too busy drinking your usual, cheap red wine straight from the bottle and stuck in your own thoughts, lying on the couch with only a blanket and your cat for company.

It approached slowly, the sound of his van's stereo. Then, it grew and grew, Quiet Riot's "Metal Health" seeming to echo through the entire neighborhood. It made you tumble out of the couch, feeling the effects of the alcohol rush to your head all at once, and running to the nearest window. You're still a tiny bit dizzy when you see him, after he stopped the engine and the music stopped, skipping out of the van and towards your front door.

You'd barely caught a glimpse of Eddie before you ran from the window, afraid to get caught. A million questions surged in that moment, the seconds between recollecting yourself and answering the loud ring of your doorbell, knowing who was waiting for you outside. How did he know you were home? Wasn't he busy tonight? What made him want to come to your place of all places?

All thoughts were cut short when you opened the door and saw him.

Under your front porch light, stood Eddie Munson, looking like every wet dream you had ever had.

Dressed in a tight, black tank top, a latex corset wrapped around his slim wait, and even tighter leather pants. Pale chest bare, it was the first time you were seeing his tattoos after visiting him at the hospital, months ago. He leaned in your doorway as soon as you opened it, a gentle smile in his full lips, brown eyes lined with a smudged layer of dark eyeshadow. Your legs might have given out if you didn't hold on to the wall.

"Hey, Eddie." A greeting comes out as a gasp, letting out the breath that was stuck inside your throat. You hoped he couldn't tell how flustered you were, but if he did, you would blame the wine. "Is everything okay? Are the kids okay?"

It dawned on you that that must have been the reason he came all the way over to your house. You tried to bury down the wave of sudden anxiety when you watched his face fall slightly, before he replied “No, no, everything is fine. Uh… I just wanted to check on you, actually.”

The expression on your face — eyebrows pinched together in confusion — must have said it all, because then, he explained himself. “The littlest Sinclair said you might be needing some company tonight, but didn’t say why. I figured that if none of them were staying with you, then I might, if that’s okay.”

Eddie’s demeanor was uncharacteristically shy. He avoided your gaze, looking at the floor while speaking, but that only made you fonder — even then, he was still as sincere as always. Your heart did a little flip in your chest, warming you from the inside out, as you opened the door enough to let him pass, silently welcoming him in.

“Erica said that?”

“Yeah. Got me worried there for a second.” He eyed you with mirth from under his wild bangs while he toed off his combat boots and left them beside the other shoes on the floor near the door. That sweet, domestic sight didn’t go unnoticed but you had other things occupying your mind, such as a reminder to thank Erica for meddling in your Halloween night plans.

“There’s nothing to worry about, I’m fine. Just not in the mood to party, that’s all.”

“See, that doesn’t sound like you, Y/N.”

“How do you know that?”

“I guess I just know more about you than you’d think.”

You were still both standing in the small hallway that led to your living room, now staring at each other. Eddie felt out of place, next to the cream and beige shades of the wallpaper your mom chose when you moved there, in his all black ensemble, all leather and spikes and wild hair, but at the same time, you felt like he could belong there, if he stayed long enough.

You wished he would.

“I don’t know about that,” you sighed, “but if you want to stay and watch some movies, that would be more than okay.”

He smiled and leaned back, looking taller and impossibly handsome, dark eyes shimmering. You almost melted on your spot, but again, you wanted to blame it on the wine.

“Lead the way, babe.”

At some point during the night, between one gruesome film and another, and a couple of bottles of wine being passed back and forth, you had scooted closer and closer together on your couch, until you were almost pressed flush against each other. Eddie was afraid to move and break whatever spell you seemed to be under, because he hadn't felt comfortable like that in a long time.

It was easy being around you. It hadn't been easy for Eddie to be around a lot of people, not since Spring Break, but with you, it took absolutely no effort to just be. To let go, to let his mind rest, to just focus on how warm the skin of your thigh was under your sweatpants, almost touching his, to make you laugh with his witty commentary of the awful movies you'd chosen to watch, to watch how beautiful you looked under the blue light of the television whenever you looked away from him.

He had it bad, that much he knew. Been smitten for a long time, enamored with the girl just out of his reach, but close enough to admire without guilt, but he wasn't about to let his feelings be known quite yet. Not when you were so close, so perfect, so… approachable, for the first time ever.

Eddie had never liked your boyfriend, from the first time he met him — just another Hawkins rich boy, swim team star, on his way to some fancy college out of state, and worst of all, he got to call you his. Unlike Steve Harrington, who managed to sway his usually unshakable opinion, Andrew just proved him right every time he had the unfortunate opportunity to meet him.

The first time he saw him was right after the dust had settled. He had just walked out of the hospital as a free man, mysteriously forgiven by the law enforcement that just a few days earlier was set on kicking him while he was down, and was received by his friends back at his trailer, a small committee complete with a handmade "welcome back!" sign and a cake baked by you.

You, who welcomed him back with open arms and never stopped fighting for him, even if you'd only officially met a week before.

You'd spent that afternoon in his bedroom, along with his friends and his uncle, all sitting around his bed and reminiscing, happy to be there, happy to be alive. Still recovering from your wounds, seen and unseen, leaning on each other like a lifeline. He remember holding your hand that day, acutely aware of the ring on your finger, but doing it anyway — your hold never faltered, instead, you ran your thumb across the skin of his hand and smiled.

Was that what bliss felt like?

Later that day, you were the first to leave. Andrew came to pick you up, Dustin announced as he was the one to answer the door. A frown made its way to your face, if only for a second, and that was enough to make Eddie decide he didn't like the guy. Not only that but he insisted on walking you to the door, ignoring the protests coming from all around the room.

Walking slowly, as much as his still fresh bite wounds would allow, he let you lead him to his front door, a gentle hand on his back, guiding him. He didn't let himself feel bad for using his battered state to let you touch him without guilt, he could do that later, after the comforting warmth of your touch had stopped branding his skin.

When you opened the door, that's when Eddie saw him. He knew Andrew hadn't been there during Spring Break, away with his family to some tropical destination, far from the horror they, you, had to endure. Eddie could tell he didn't care much either, letting you tend to your also still fresh wounds, both physical and mental, by yourself most of the time after he got back, only calling you when he needed something.

Eddie tells himself he would never let you out of his sight, if you were his girl, but there's also a lot of other things he likes to think about when he considers that scenario.

He watched you say goodbye, squeezing his shoulder before leaving and descending his trailer's stairs, down to your boyfriend's nice car and cold arms, leading you away from him, but not before leering him down at his own doorway, a condenscending, degrading look Eddie knew a little too well by now.

Not a word was spoken between the two, but there was no need, Eddie already made hating him into a new hobby.

With that sudden rememberance, your soft giggles bringing him back to the present, Eddie couldn't help but ask.

"What happened to your boyfriend?"

Without missing a beat, you chuckled, and responded without looking at him. "He dumped me."

"He what?" His question sounded a lot louder and high-pitched than he had intended. Eddie thought it would be easier for you to have dumped him other than the opposite.

Who would be stupid enough to let you go like that?

With a long sigh, you clicked the remote to pause the movie, and turned around to face him fully. He tried not to show how disappointed he was to lose the physical contact you had at that moment, but his hand clenched almost involuntarily, eager to reach out and pull you back. Where you belonged, his traitorous mind added.

"Dumped me, yeah." You sat with your legs crossed and he did the same, turning to hear you. "Last week. Unceremoniously, might I add, through the phone, even. I heard through the grapevine he's already dating someone else, but that might be just rumors, or maybe not, honestly I expect anything from him at this point."

Eddie's mind was reeling. "Was that why you didn't want to go out tonight?"

"That's part of the reason." You nod. "I just really don't wanna risk seeing him and Halloween is my favorite holiday, I don't want it more ruined than it already is."

The urge to punch the guy in the face was strong, stronger than it was when he was still recovering, when you were still together. It made him restless, fidgeting in his seat. The hand that lied limp at his side finally reached out, sitting on your knee and squeezing it only slightly. "I'm sorry. I know that it's not worth much, but I really am. You deserve better."

A weak smile formed on your lips, but it didn't reach your eyes. Eddie desperately wanted to make your face light up again. A brief idea struck him, then.

"Do you know where he might be tonight?"

"Benny's, probably. I don't know. I don't want to know." Despite your distress, you looked adorable with your nose scrunched and your head down, picking on your already chipped nail polish. Unable to help himself, Eddie finally reached out, his first unmistakably purposeful display of affection towards you — a little unsure, a little clumsy, but it still felt right — bringing his curled index finger below your chin, gently tipping your head up, making you meet his eyes.

"You might wanna know about what I'm thinking."

His voice was soft, but his dark eyes were full of mischief.

It was late when you got to Benny's. Not that anyone there would mind, the music inside was blasting loud enough that it could be heard for miles, and the people who were outside were all too intoxicated to mind your presence.

The basketball team, and seemingly every other jock affiliation at school, had a different party happening on Halloween night. They must have not gotten their big suburban house for themselves this year, Eddie thought. He would usually try to crash these parties, make some money out of the only few times these jocks didn't abhor his mere presence to his advantage, but things had changed for him, and for all it's worth, he had better things to do tonight.

Getting your ex-boyfriends back from what he did to you was his first priority. The second was making you forget all about him.

You and Eddie must have looked like quite a pair. He was still in his full costume, standing out from the more boring looking costumes the popular crowd opted for that evening, and you had put on the first outfit you saw after he'd told you his plan and whisked you away in his van. An old black sweater and ripped jeans, he saw your mismatched socks before you put on your boots, the ones that were already near the door.

To him, you looked perfect, but he could tell how uncomfortable you were with all the people around you. Your ex's friends, he assumed. Eddie wondered if you were ever at these parties, and if Andrew even cared about how you felt about them. He doesn't want to think too much about it or he could feel himself get mad again.

"Hey," he brought a hand to your back, moving it up and down in a soothing manner, "we'll be in and out of here, 'kay?"

"Yeah, I know." Your smile was small, but Eddie was relieved to see it anyway. He promised himself he'd make convincing you to leave your house worth it, and he'll keep his promise.

"So… which one is his car?"

He watched you point to a tan-colored Jeep towards the end of the improvised parking lot. Silently, he grabbed your hand and led the way towards it. It wasn't a very well thought out plan, the one came up with whilst he seethed thinking about an asshole like that dumping a girl like you. It demanded serious action, in his humble opinion.

Property damage, more like it.

Eddie had been trying to stay out of trouble since the events of last March. He'd been officially cleared of all charges, something to do with the reappearance of Chief Hopper and his connections with the government. The details were foggy, he barely remembered signing all of those documents, still in his hospital bed and hazy from the medication. Wayne probably knew more than he did, but Eddie never asked too many questions.

He tried to go on as normally as he could, working odd jobs here and there as his body recovered, doing his best to heal his mind too. He stopped selling, graduated in May, spent more time with his new found friends — his new found family — and his old ones. Started dreaming about a girl who belonged to someone else, foolishly hoping that someday she would be his.

Not so foolish now, those dreams seemed.

Keeping out of trouble was surprisingly easy after you'd barely escaped life in prison, or worse — Eddie discovered there were far worse things than getting locked up, or living up to his family name. After all that, a minor misdemeanor was worth it if it was going to make you smile, at least in his eyes.

When you approached the Jeep, he could tell there was something going on in there. If he noticed, you noticed it as well, inching closer to it, slowly, trying to not get caught. The car was not empty, there were two people in front seats, making out — your ex and a girl Eddie did not recognize.

The first thing he felt was your grip on his hand tighten, and when he turned his body around to look at you, you looked away. Heartbroken, a dejected look on your pretty face, lips turned into a frown. It was almost like you didn't want to be seen at that moment, trying to hide, but Eddie couldn't let you. His own heart breaking for you, but willing to do whatever it took to mend it.

He took your face in both of his hands, urging you to look at him. "You don't need to get any closer, all right? Let me handle it, it was my idea. We won't spend more than five minutes here, I promise. Then I'll take you home, or we can go wherever you want. Far away from him, okay?"

"Okay. It's okay. I trust you, Eddie."

The chill he's been feeling having foregone his jacket is readily forgotten as he takes in how sweet your eyes look in the low light of the street. He runs his thumb over your cheek just briefly before letting you go, going over to Andrew's car.

Thankfully for the height of the car, it was easy for Eddie to crouch and quickly grab the butterfly knife he usually kept on the inside pocket of his jacket — for safety measures, especially after being almost eaten alive, he didn't feel well without a weapon within close proximity. Call him crazy, but maybe there's always demobats to be fought, or asshole ex-boyfriends to screw over.

He cringed as he noticed the car starting to shake slightly, and prayed that you'd kept looking away. Eddie made a quick job of it — light on his feet, he slashed each of the four tires, and as he watched them slowly deflate, he ran towards you. You looked at him, covering your mouth to hide your nervous laughter, and he put his finger to his mouth, signaling you to keep quiet.

Together, you ran. Eddie didn't know who grabbed whose hand first, but when he came to himself you were running in the direction of his van, and you were giggling openly, making him smile until his cheeks hurt in turn. When you stopped, panting and still laughing, none of you let go.

"I can't believe we did that."

"I did that. You just watched, sweetheart."

Rolling your eyes, you pulled him a little closer by the hand you were holding. "Still, you're my hero, Eddie Munson."

"Couldn't stand thinking about what that dick did to you. He never deserved you in the first place."

He thought he'd said something wrong when you didn't say anything right away, but he was pleasantly surprised when you finished closing the distance between you, capturing his bottom lip between yours in a delicate kiss. He stood there, shocked for a second, before bringing his hands to your waist, drawing you to his chest.

Your arms around his neck, his traveling to your back, the sound of the deep bass coming from the inside of Benny's drowning everything around you. You were all he could feel, your soft lips melding with his, taking in all the little noises you made when he touched you just right. Feeling you under his touch was kind of surreal, like he couldn't believe it was happening just yet.

He swallowed the sigh you let out, just before drawing away, looking for air. "What was that?"

"Just a thank you, for now." You pointed with another peck to his lips.

"For now? What's for later?"

"Take me home like you promised and you'll find out."

"Baby, you don't need to…," not even he expected the pet name, or what followed, "you know, thank me like that. Or at all! I wasn't expecting anything from you…"

Before he could say anymore, you silenced him with another kiss, this time sucking on his bottom lip and letting him deepen it, taking the opportunity to sneak his tongue into your mouth, getting lost in the taste of you. Eddie walked you back until you hit the side of his van, his hand covering the back of your head, softening the impact.

He couldn't bear to hold himself back any longer, and you didn't seem to want him to slow down either, pulling him impossibly closer by his hair, making him moan into your mouth.

"I know you weren't, but I've been wanting to do this for a long time."

"Yeah?" He tilted his head, running his hands under your sweater, feeling your warm skin under your shirt, "Not longer than me, I'm sure."

"Wanna bet?"

The rest of the night was a blur. When Eddie woke up the next morning, naked on your bed, all he could remember was spending through the streets, dividing his already thin attention between kissing you and the steering wheel, drinking wine on your couch until you started taking your clothes off, and stumbling up the stairs while he removed his.

You slept peacefully beside him, your hair like a halo around your head, faint purple hickies on your neck. Though his mind was foggy, and his head ached with a hangover he was sure to blame your cheap wine, he didn't regret a thing he did the night before.

Later, when you woke up, after he spent looking at your ceiling and wondering how did he get so lucky, you got under the sheets and thanked him some more.

#recs #f: stranger things #p: eddie munson #l: oneshot #g: fluff #g: hurt comfort #au: halloween #a: aphrogeneias #em: oneshot #em: fluff #em: hurt comfort #em: halloween #em: aphrogeneias #read: october 2023

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annab-recs · 7 months

Text

I wanna be more part 2 || eddie munson

part one: https://www.tumblr.com/maxxxineminxxx/730923192165826560/i-wanna-be-more-eddie-munson?source=share

warnings: angst, jealousy, cussing, underage drinking, kissing.

summary : y/n attends the party she was unsure about going to, only to find out that Eddies there as well with his "girl?'' Eddie is still ignoring y/n and she is determined to find out why.

A/n; I decided on making a part two I hope its okay. I tried to finish this part and upload it as fast as i could so if there is any errors let me know!

You haven't spoken to Eddie all week, and every attempt to catch his eye seems to fail. The guys from Hellfire, while friendly, are just as clueless about Eddie's behaviour as you are. You've missed being with them, but with the way Eddie's been acting, you doubt he'd even want you around at this point. You can't shake the feeling that he's got Roxanne as a stand-in for you. The two of them seem awfully close.

Yesterday was the first day of the week that you had biology, Eddie was in the same class as you and sat right next to you so you thought you would finally be able to maybe get him to even acknowledge your presence. But he didn’t in fact he didn’t even sit next to you he moved his seat and sat next to Roxanne instead. The two of them giggling the entire lesson.

The cheerleaders have been persistent in trying to convince you to go to the party tonight, but all you really want to do is wallow in self-pity. On Saturday nights, you and Eddie would have your cherished movie nights. This tradition had been going strong since you were twelve, and you hadn't missed one. But tonight, you couldn't help but feel that it would mark the first Saturday where this tradition would be broken. Eventually, though, you decide that it might be good to take your mind off the situation and distract yourself for a couple of hours by going to this party.

As you approach Olivia's house, its exterior gives off elegance and warmth. The well-maintained structure stands as a testament to a comfortable and inviting abode. Olivia's mother graciously welcomes you inside. Following the lively symphony of girlish laughter, you navigate through the house. The source of the cheerful laughter and singing leads you to a room where a flurry of activity unfolds. The air is scented with cosmetics, a delightful blend of powders and perfumes.

Within this lively environment, a group of girls are engaged in the transformative ritual of hair and makeup, each one a portrait of focused determination. Some of them in pairs, offering assistance and sharing opinions on outfits. The room is vibrant with colour, style, and a shared sense of excitement as they prepare for the party soon.

"y/n, get over here so I can get started on your makeup," Chrissy said to you, patting the spot next to her on the bed. You complied and settled in, letting her work her magic.

Meanwhile, Layla declared herself the outfit maker and designer, convinced that jeans were a no-go for a party. You observed as Carol and Olivia playfully teased each other and spritzed their hair.

"y/n, you're up next for hair," Olivia informed you, stealing glances at her own reflection.

“y/n is there anyone you like?” Chrissy asked as she finished up your blush. “Yeah, but I don’t really think he likes me back like that, he kind of only sees me as a friend.” You admitted to her, she looked at you with pitiful eyes. “Well, his loss yeah?” you hummed in agreement and carol placed her hands on your shoulders and then spoke. “Hold your breath unless you want to pass out from inhaling too many hairspray fumes, I’ve learnt from experience.”

This was going to be a long night. Slightly uncomfortable too, outfit wise.

Arriving at Jason's house, a wave of discomfort washed over you. The dress you wore hugged your form, its hemline leaving you feeling more exposed than you were used to. Layers of makeup adorned your face, a foreign sensation that you tried to ignore. Taking a deep breath, you pushed those sensations aside, determined to make the most of the evening. A break from the Eddie situation was much needed.

Compliments from fellow partygoers began to flow, and you couldn't deny the boost to your confidence. It made the uncomfort worth it. Though you couldn't ignore the lingering gazes from the basketball team. In the kitchen, an entire table was dedicated to a bunch of alcoholic drinks. You poured some into a cup, leaning against the counter as you took a sip. It was a moment of peace before you had to socialize. Although it didn't last very long before the girls were running up to you. The girls all come rushing up to you, whispering in hushed tones among themselves.

"Oh my god, you're never going to believe who even dared to attend tonight," Layla announces to the group, imitating a gag. "Eddie Munson and Roxanne are here together," she adds.

You scan the room, and there they are.

The sting of hurt cuts deep, a familiar ache settling in your chest. It's a harsh truth you've come to accept - Eddie's reluctance to attend parties with you is a wound that never seems to fully heal. No matter how much you plead, his answer is always the same: a resolute no. You've always turned down invitations like this because Eddie didn't enjoy them, and you didn't want to go without him.

You wonder if he would have done the same for you. And now, he's here, amidst it all, with her. She likely didn't need to utter a plea, a thought that only adds to the pain. You watch as she leans into his side, and he holds her close. Your gaze remains fixed on them until your eyes meet Eddie's. He looks at you, then turns to Roxanne, whispering something in her ear. They both giggle.

The alcohol begins to work its gentle magic, enveloping you in a comforting warmth. Leaning into Jason, who's positioned himself protectively between you and Carol, you find solace in his presence. It's surprising, yet oddly comforting. He places a protective arm around your waist.

“you, okay?” he asked with genuine concern you nod and give him a smile. “Just tired.”

Jason had promised to be your protector, ready to confront any guy who overstepped boundaries and made you uneasy. His genuine concern touched you deeply, especially when you confide your uncertainty about the party during your lunch conversation. As the party swirls around you, the noise and bright lights closing in, you start to feel slightly overwhelmed.

You stumble towards the front porch, craving the cool embrace of fresh air and a moment of peace. The alcohol has taken its toll, pushing you on the edge of emotions. Your heart aches for a chance to talk to Eddie, to find out the reason for his distance.

Lost in your thoughts, you settle onto the porch, consumed by all your questions and concerns. It takes a moment before you even register the presence beside you. Glancing over, your breath catches in your throat. There's Eddie, his expression etched with deep contemplation. It appears he, too, is lost in his own world, unaware of your arrival. The weight of your unspoken connection hangs heavy in the air between you.

But when he finally noticed you, he stood up, already ready to head back inside and ignore you once again. But you grab his arm before he can enter the house once more. Your voice trembles with frustration and hurt as you confront Eddie. His attempts to avoid your gaze only fuel your determination.

“Why are you ignoring me, Eddie? I think I deserve a damn explanation," you press your grip on his arm firm. His response feels like a dismissive blow.

"I don't know what you mean," he mutters, a fake innocence in his tone that grates against your raw emotions. It's as if he's trying to gaslight you, making it seem like you've imagined this distance.

"You don't know what I mean? How about how you ignored me all weekend, and then still didn't speak to me at school, no matter how many times I tried to reach out to you?" Your words hang in the air, heavy with the weight of your broken connection. The ache of longing for an explanation pulse through you, demanding acknowledgment.

Eddie's fingers dance nervously over his rings, a visible sign of his stress. He lets out a shaky exhale, struggling to find the right words. "I Dunno," he mumbles, his voice laced with uncertainty.

Your frustration grows, demanding an answer. "What do you mean you don't know? You just woke up and decided you were going to ignore me for no reason, huh?" The hurt and confusion well up within you, desperate for an explanation. You feel your eyes swell up with tears, and you blink them away, worried about messing up your makeup. Eddie’s confession hangs heavy in the air, each word dripping with sincerity and vulnerability.

"I love you, y/n, so much it scares me," he admits, his emotions laid bare.

"I've been working up the courage for years to ask you out or say something, but I figured you would never see me that way, and then I'd ruin our entire friendship. So I needed to get over you. And I couldn't do that by seeing you all the time, I only came to this stupid party to make sure you were okay,” he admits ‘’i even asked Roxanne to help me i don't know, maybe make you jealous, see if you even cared.’’

The sight of you with Jason seems to further drive home the point for Eddie, a bitter confirmation of what he feared. "But you look pretty cozy over there with Jason, so it looks like you couldn't care less," he concludes, his tone laced with hurt. Your heart aches, the weight of his words settling in. This is a mess of misunderstanding.

His words leave you momentarily speechless. He wants more than just friendship, and the weight of that realization settles in, both thrilling and terrifying. As he turns to leave, you find your voice, a mixture of surprise and longing colouring your words.

"Eddie, wait." But you've answered too late; he's already walking towards his car to leave. You run after him, yelling out his name, and he finally looks back at you.

The weight of the moment hangs heavy in the air as you try to muster the words. "Eddie, I'm sorry I-" But your attempt at an explanation is abruptly cut off.

His voice trembles with pain, a raw vulnerability in his eyes. "Y/n, save it okay? I don't want to hear it," he interjects, his tone laced with sadness. His words struck you like a blow, and in that vulnerable moment, you couldn't hold back any longer. "I love you too," you confessed, the truth tumbling from your lips as he moved towards his car. You couldn't bear to watch him leave, to be ignored again. You had to tell him now.

As he turned to look at you, his face registered shock and disbelief, a thousand emotions dancing across his features. The weight of your unspoken feelings hung heavily between you, a bridge waiting to be crossed. He moved closer to you. So close that you could feel his breath fanning over your face. “Say that again,” he asked, tucking some of your hair behind your ear and locking eyes with you.

“I love you, Eddie.” He cupped your face with both his hands, and you felt his lips crash into yours creating an electrifying connection that sent shivers down your spine. It was a passionate moment filled with desire and longing. Our bodies pressed against each other as if trying to merge into one. Time seemed to stand still as we lost ourselves in the intensity of the kiss. The kiss was hungry and passionate. You had been waiting for this moment for what felt like forever. He broke away from the kiss and looked at you with a smirk. “I haven't told you how beautiful you look tonight,” he said, his hands roaming your body. You blushed and hid your face in his neck. He held you close, pressing kisses to your cheeks.

‘’Please don’t ignore me again Eddie, i wish you would have spoken to me " you said attempting to make the situation serious again so you could understand how he was feeling.

"I know, I know I should've just told you how I was feeling, but I just couldn't,” he admitted softly. You brushed his bangs out of his face and watched as he gathered his thoughts.

“i didn't know how to talk to you about it or even approach the situation, i thought that if i admitted it to you i would mess it up and become a stuttering mess, ‘m sorry.” he expressed to me, he buried his face into the crook of my neck for a moment before he pulled away and looked at me with a smirk.

“So what's this I'm hearing about you loving me huh?”

“Eddie, stop, I'm still mad at you,” you said, fighting the urge to smile.

“Nonoo y/n you love me’’ “Y/N L/N LOVES EDDIE MUNSON’’ he screamed on top of his lungs “Eddie people are staring” you laughed and tried to cover his mouth with the palm of your hand.

“Let them stare, I'm only telling the truth.’’ he leaned in to kiss you once more. “How about I make it up to you with a milkshake?” “Only if its chocolate”

You and Eddie walked hand in hand to his van. It felt like a dream, the reality of your shared feelings sinking in with each step. The joy in your heart was palpable, unable to tear your gaze away from him, grateful that he felt the same way you did.

“y/n do you know what this means” he looked over at me and was suddenly extremely serious. “A cheerleader is in love with me.’’

“You are actually such a dork” you say as you grab his hand to hold whilst the two of you walk over to his van. “Yeah, but I’m a dork that you love.”

tags: (i hope this is everyone tumblr wasnt allowing me to tag some ppl so if i missed anyone im so sorry )

@thedyingwriter @daisyridleyyyy @munsonzgf

@sazifer @hufflepuffobsessedwithmarvel @sashaphantomhive

@boomitsallie1 @emma77645 @ziggeddie @ahoyyharrington

@inesven

#recs #f: stranger things #p: eddie munson #l: twoshot #g: angst #g: fluff #a: maxxxineminxxx #em: twoshot #em: angst #em: fluff #em: maxxxineminxxx #read: october 2023

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annab-recs · 7 months

Note

for fictober, can I request steve and shy!reader with the prompt “I’ll stay until you fall asleep”? maybe a hurt/comfort, steve comforting reader after a bullying incident at school?

thanks for requesting angel! this can be read as a part two to this fic!! — steve comforts you after a no good, really bad day (tw for mentions of bullying, established relationship, hurt/comfort, 1.6k)

fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

Steve waits for you in your childhood bed while you cry in the shower.

The day had been hard to you. Like a fist. It hit you hard in the gut and left a dark, splotchy bruise in its wake.

You’d been too tender to turn Steve down when he asked to come over. Still aching, you thought he might make it better. He did, in a sense, but one person can only do so much. The dark spots of you were too gloomy for your own personal sunshine to brighten.

Steve knows all this — not because you’ve told him, but because he heard you trying to hide it.

He got lonely and almost went into the bathroom with you. He thought he could sit on the counter while you showered, keep each other company and whatnot, but then he thought he heard you sniffling.

His heart ached at the thought that you might’ve been crying, alone and away from him.

It breaks entirely when he sees you.

“Hi, pretty,” he greets in a quiet lilt when you exit the bathroom, drowning in one of his baggy t-shirts.

A puff of floral-scented steam follows behind you as you dry your dripping hair with a towel between your palms. Your eyes are glassy and your skin is tinted a redder shade — from the heat or from the hidden tears, he can’t quite tell.

“Hi,” you answer, as quiet as usual. Your voice is meek. Tired. It wavers on the edges, still stained with lingering emotion. Steve doesn’t know why you’re keeping it from him.

“Took you awhile,” the boy singsongs with a crooked grin. It’s not a question, just an observation. He doesn’t want to pry so hard you shut down.

“I know. I’m sorry. I just got… distracted, I think.”

Steve huffs a faint laugh. The mattress squeaks when you sit on the edge of it. He rises from the pillows to take you in his arms. He doesn’t pull you any closer, though, only holds you. He smooths a warm palm up and down your back with one hand and rubs circles on your thigh with the thumb of the other.

“It’s okay, babe. I do that all the time. I just missed you, you know?”

You nod, slowly and mostly to yourself.

He thinks you might say something, then watches you lose focus a second later. Your wet eyes glaze over with a faraway look. You get lost in your own head, rubbing the towel in your hair with absentminded hands.

“Hey…” Steve hums softly to you, ducking his gaze to find yours. His scruffy face swirls with concern. “You feel okay?”

A beat passes. Your eyes widen when you realize he’s talking — talking to you. It sounded like he was shouting at you from underwater. Like he was calling you from Earth while you sat on the rings of Jupiter.

His hands are on you, but you’re lightyears away.

“Hmm?” you hum finally.

His smile widens, though it’s lined with worry. “You look a little spacey there, babe,” he tells you with a halfway-forced chuckle.

Your cheeks are aflame with embarrassment now. There’s nothing you can keep from him.

“Sorry…” you murmur.

“Stop apologizing,” Steve laughs, soft but still firm. “We talked about that, remember? You don’t have to be sorry for everything.”

You don’t know what to say, so you shift awkwardly and repeat, “Sorry…”

He decides not to scold you for it this time. Mostly because he knows there’s no point, but also because you do look sort of sick. You’re sunken in and paler than usual, like you’ve died and come back to life since he last saw you.

“You sure you’re okay?”

You nod, even though your chin quivers. “Yeah, I’m okay,” you assure him, voice cracking like delicate glass — fragile with the burning tears gathering at your waterline.

Steve deflates just like you do. “Babe…”

You weren’t going to cry. Really, you weren’t. You’ve mastered the art of biting your tongue and blinking at the ceiling until the need to weep has passed entirely. But something about the way he says it makes your heart break. It’s been hanging on a thread all day, in your defense.

He says it like you’re made of glass — like there’s no use in hiding because he can see right through you.

You break accordingly.

Your face pinches together. You take a wavering breath in. You’re still trying to keep it together in front of the boy who’s eons out of your league already, but the tears spill over before you mean them to. You put your head in your palms in a feeble attempt to hide there. A sob tumbles from your mouth.

Steve’s heart wrenches. Like your pain is his own. You stab him in the chest when you cry, then twist the knife when you jerk away from him when he tries to comfort you.

“No, don’t,” you snap, then sniffle as you wipe your teary cheeks with the backs of your hands. “‘M just being a baby—”

“No, you’re not,” Steve interjects before you can be cruel to yourself any longer. “Just— Just let me hold you, yeah?”

When you don’t refuse, he tries again. He wraps his arms more intently around you, pulling you to his chest and pressing his nose into your still-drying hair. He can tell you’re trying hard not to cry — between broken breaths, sharp sniffling, and muffled sobs into your palms.

His eyes squeeze when they start to burn.

He doesn’t know why you’re still hiding.

“It’s okay to cry, you know? I do it all the time.”

“Over nothing?” you bite with a venom spat mostly at yourself.

“Yeah!” Steve answers with a boyish chuckle. “I worked the graveyard shift the other night and realized I didn’t finish the laundry when I came back home. Had to pout about it like a twelve-year-old for an hour until I finally got up and did it”

You don’t mean to laugh, still a bit miserable in your way, but the visual is too funny not to scoff at.

Steve feigns offense, though he’s chuckling right along with you. “What? Crying’s a good stress reliever! One good sob fest, and you’re good to go.”

You sniffle and wring your hands in your lap. “It just… It makes me feel sorta weak, you know?”

“Crying?”

You nod. Your cheek rubs the soft cotton of his sweatshirt. Your throat wells with tears once more. “And everything already thinks I’m weak, and… I don’t know— I don’t want everyone to be right about me, I guess.”

“You’re not weak, baby,” Steve murmurs, then presses a kiss to your hair as he sways you back and forth. “You’re soft. That’s totally different.”

“Doesn’t feel different.”

“I know,” he hums sympathetically. “But it is.”

You don’t say anything. You just nod.

“Do you wanna talk about it? The Nothing?”

You decide to be honest. There’s no use in hiding when you’re made of glass, you figure.

“The basketball team just kept staring at me all day — and laughing,” you confess, face crumpling up again. You feel as little as you did back then. “They were making a real big show of it, too, you know? Like that wanted me to see it.”

Steve burns for you. Grief ebbs into rage and turns his chest to ash. His gentle hold on you never wavers, even though his hands tremble with withheld fury. “Jason?” he wonders softly, jaw tense.

You shift, unsure of how to answer. “I mean… yeah, but he wasn’t— he wasn’t actually doing anything. ‘Cause he knows he doesn’t have to do anything.”

“Fucking douchebag,” Steve mumbles through gritted teeth.

“He hasn’t been bothering me or anything. He’s just…”

“A fucking douchebag?”

“Yeah,” you answer, laughing quietly to yourself.

“I’ll talk to him,” Steve assures you, though it’s mainly for himself. “Shoulda know he was too much of an idiot to listen the first time—”

You shake your head against his chest. “No, Steve—”

“—I bet he’s at practice right now. The basketball team usually drills in the gym during football season, so—”

“Steve, don’t,” you interject, sitting further up but staying wrapped in his arms. He looks like Heaven and smells like woodsy cologne and fresh autumn air. It heals you accordingly. “Just leave it, okay? I don’t— I don’t want it to be a big deal like it was last time.”

“You can’t just let him treat you like shit, babe,” Steve argues, chiseled features sharpened into hardened points. “I’m not gonna let him treat you like shit—”

“I can handle it on my own,” you assure him, still gentle in your way but so suddenly stern. Your doe eyes swim with it as you blink up at him.

Not weak, just soft.

Steve concedes with a small sigh. He relaxes into you again, pulls you back to him, and presses his lips to your hair. He doesn’t kiss you. His mouth just lingers. “What can I do then, huh? How can I make you feel better?”

“Can you just stay with me?” you wonder in a mousy whisper.

“Of course,” he scoffs like the answer’s obvious.

Your cheek rubs against his chest when you tilt your chin to peer up at him. “’Til I fall asleep?”

Steve’s rosy lips tug into a crooked grin. “A sleepover, huh? That’s even better— can Steve Bearington come, too?”

He nods over to your dresser where your childhood stuffy sits. He’s beige and fuzzy, older than you are and obviously well-used. You stopped sleeping with him around the time you found Steve. Being held is much different than the holding, you found.

“His name is Theodore, and no, he’s not invited!”

#recs #f: stranger things #p: steve harrington #l: oneshot #g: fluff #g: hurt comfort #a: lovebugism #sh: oneshot #sh: fluff #sh: hurt comfort #sh: lovebugism #read: october 2023

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