#eddie munson x sister!oc

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

To the woman who has my heart:

A letter to the woman Eddie loves, read aloud to the people who despised him. Words he could not say outloud himself.

Warnings: r*pe, angst, grief, blood. A little bit of sadness.

18+ MINORS DNI

Grace Henderson stood up in front of the church, trembling with nervousness and grief. She also hadn't eaten much today, everything tasted like cardboard. She glanced down at the letter in her hands, the letter that Wayne had given to her moments before. He had found it amongst Eddie's things. Eddie, the reason they were all here today. Grace made the mistake of looking into the crowd. In the front row sat her brother and mother with Wayne Munson. She could still hear her brother's cries from both of the times that Eddie had died. She closed her eyes tightly, trying to stop the memory from coming forward.

Fire. Blood. The pile of bodies that stood before him. The smell of it all mixed together and she could feel bile building up in her stomach. The blood dripping from his mouth. They had deserved it. He had had said. To be torn apart like they were nothing? Their bodies raped and beaten? This wasn't her Eddie. Not anymore. The jocks hadn't deserved that, despite the fact they had hunted Eddie and tried to hurt his friends. Eddie wouldn't do something like that. . .

"Please," Eddie begged. "You have to do it. You have to kill me. I can't hold him back any longer. The monster inside me. He's crawling to get out. He doesn't care who he kills."

Grace opened her mouth to sing, to sing the same song that pulled him forward earlier from the depths of his mind. Hey Jude. Though it wasn't metal, it had been his mother's favorite song. His earliest memory of his mother had been her playing it all of the time when it had been released and singing it to Eddie when he felt sick or hurt, or angry. It had been his favorite song too and it had been the one to save him, to bring him back to her however briefly. The vampire that had stolen Eddie's body took down Vecna but now they had to stop Kas and close the gates once and for all. It was time to end this. A hand dropped onto her shoulder and she looked up at Hopper.

"You don't have to do this, kid," Hopper said softly and she shook her head.

"No, it has to be me,"  Grace sobbed. "It has to be."

It wasn't because Kas had marked her as his own, the throbbing bite upon her neck proof of that. . .she had to do this for Eddie. Grace looked into Eddie frightened brown eyes, the only thing that stayed the same. He didn't want to look like this deformed monster anymore. He didn't want to hurt anyone, never did. She has to end this for him and for everyone else because what if it had been Dustin that Kas had killed? What if? Grace continued to sing, placing a gentle kiss on his lips, and plunged the flaming stake into his heart. It burned her hand as she did so. The light in Eddie's eyes went out and he collapsed into her arms, as Kas melted away from him. . .turning into dust as the sun began to rise. Grace held Eddie's still body and sobs wracked her own.

"Eddie," she whispered. "Wake up."

Grace opened her eyes and found everyone sitting in the pews waiting for her to talk.

"Eddie Munson. . . ," she paused, clearing her throat. "Was so much more than everyone in this town thought he was. He wasn't a murderer. How could he be? He could never hurt a fly. I know, I know. The metal head who played the Devil's game. . .he couldn't hurt a fly? No, he couldn't. Instead, he pulled lost sheep under his wing and protected them from the storm. He was a man who was afraid that the woman he. . .the woman he loved thought of him like everyone this town did. . .a freak. She never did. I wasn't sure what to say today so I will read this letter of Eddie's and say the words for him that he never could say."

To the woman who has my heart:

Gaahh! I feel so tongue tied and I am not even speaking. See? This is what you do to me, Henderson. You make me feel like utter shit. I want to throw up and laugh at the same fucking time. My heart wants to explode from my chest whenever you walk into a room. You became friends with me and I still don't understand why. You were a good girl with decent grades and a better chance at a future than I did. You also had a foul mouth which I loved that I knew and everyone else in this damned town didn't. When you graduated and I didn't, I thought for sure that it was it for us but you stayed in town and I was overjoyed. I shouldn't have been because you deserve better than me and this God awful town who can't stand anyone who's different.

I could never tell you how I feel face to face. Never. I suppose that makes me a coward. I am sitting here writing this and laughing. Wayne probably thinks I'm fucking nuts. You once told me that you thought I was the bravest man you had ever met because everyone in this cursed town was too afraid of standing out, of being different. You said that I was never afraid of dressing the way that I want to, of listening to the music that I love, and saying whatever the hell I want to. Tell me, this, my Gracie girl, how come I can't tell you how I feel?

I think it's because I am afraid. Not because you might not feel the same way or because you might think that I am what everyone says that I am. It's because I know that you don't. I look into those wide gorgeous eyes of yours and know that you absolutely adore me for whatever reason. I know because everything I do makes you laugh, I mean like side splitting laugh and I know that I am not that funny. Oh my God, that snort of yours. . .that's so fucking adorable. I can't get enough of it.

I know that when you touch me you feel for me more than anyone else because I know that you don't do that for others. That time I heard Hey Jude come on the radio and you held me in your arms as I cried? I never wanted you to let me go. I told you about my mom that night. I think that I know now why I am so afraid. I think I am afraid of being loved so completely like my mom did, like my Uncle. . . I mean, how could anyone love me like you guys do. . .a broken freak who lives in a fantasy game. . .who can't seem to stay still for more than a minute? I mean, I am batshit crazy and the possibility that Grace Henderson might love me.  .  .impossible. I don't want to run anymore, my sweet Gracie girl. I think I will tell you over Spring Break with this letter and your favorite flowers. As long it's up to you, I hope that we spend every single day of Spring Break together. Until then. . .

Forever yours,

Edward Munson

Eddie Henderson

Eddie Munson

P.S: How is it possible that someone so lovely is related to a butthead like Dustin Henderson? Of course, I'm talking about your mother.

P.S OF P.S: Just kidding, all of the Hendersons are lovely people and I would be honored if I could join the family.

Grace looked up at crowd after folding up and placing the letter smoothly in her pocket.

"How is it possible that a man like that is even considered a murderer? He wanted nothing more than to be understood, to be loved as he is. . . and to live in the town where his mother did. . .to be loved by the people who once loved her. They couldn't see beyond who his father had been or the clothes that he wore. He was a man who loved, to be loved, and he loved more than anyone ever could. Eddie Munson will always. . .will always hold my heart."

Grace climbed down off of the podium and collapsed, sobbing into her mother's arms. It wasn't long before Dustin joined in, wrapping his arms around the both of them. What was surprising was when Wayne stood up and hugged all of them, kissing the top of Grace's head. The whole town was watching them now. When Eddie's name was cleared and had been announced that he actually been the hero who saved the town, hundreds flocked to give him a funeral he deserved. The church was packed and all eyes were on them. It was immediate family who went to bury him: Wayne, the Hendersons, and the Upside Down team. Grace leaned on her brother, her head on his, as they watched Eddie's body being lowered into the ground.

"Goodbye, Eddie," she whispered.

She watched the photo she had nestled in the roses as it disappeared along with the casket. It was a polaroid of Eddie's that he had taken of her before she graduated. She was leaning on her desk, smiling at him with both her eyes and her lips. Grace couldn't remember what he had said then but whatever it was, it made her happier than she had ever looked. He told her before he died that it was his favorite photo of her and now he was taking with him into the afterlife. She hoped he would carry it with him forever.

FIVE YEARS LATER. . .

Grace smiled at the headstone. She could do that now. . .smile. it had taken her a long time to get there but she could do it. It was still a little sad though and she never smiled like she had done with Eddie but she was happy. That was the important thing, that he would want her to be happy.

"The kids are off at college now. Can you believe it? We did good, I think. It was awkward between Will, El, and Mike for a while but they're with their respective others now. Nancy and Jonathan are married now so that's great. Jopper eloped. (Dustin calls Hop and Joyce that.) We've all tried to stay as close as possible and even though the gates are closed now no one wants to live there. It's a ghost town. We all try to keep an eye on it while trying to live our respective lives. It's hard to forget what happened so we don't bother trying. We use it to remind ourselves to live because others can't and to remind ourselves that it only made us stronger. . ."

Grace paused and looked down at her hands, feeling ashamed. She shouldn't be though. Tears flooded her eyes suddenly.

"I'm not sure why I haven't told you this before. . .afraid, I guess. After you died, I was a mess and I just fell apart. It wasn't fair that we didn't get enough time together. Everyone helped to pick up the pieces but the one person who was there for me most of all . . . was Steve. We got an apartment together and for a long time we were just roommates. . . just friends. I had spent most of my nights crying and Steve just being there for me. He held me when I had nightmares and I did the same for him when he had them too. He still gets embarrassed about his scars sometimes but I am there to reassure him and vice-versa. Eventually, overtime, we fell in love."

Grace paused again, openly crying this time. She couldn't tell if they were happy tears or sad tears.

"We live just outside of Hawkins, far and not too far way. We still worry sometimes. Robin and Steve still work together, platonic soulmates and all. . .They opened their own buisness together. I am sorry that I didn't tell you about Steve sooner but we haven't been able to get here much with everything and all. We are very happy and he loves me. . .he is so good to me. I love him with almost all of my heart. I think there will always be a piece of my heart that will always belong to you. Steve's alright with that. He understands. We got married, Eddie. We're having a baby. We want to name him after you. It's not that weird. Our family understands and we hope you do too. . . I love you, Eddie Munson."

Grace placed a hand on her swollen stomach and leaned forward to kiss the headstone. A hand dropped onto her shoulder and she looked up into the face of her husband. Steve smiled and knelt down beside her.

"Hey, man, I am not sure what to say to the man who's girl I stole," he said and Grace chuckled. "But I want you to know that I plan to spend every day of my life making sure she's safe, happy, and loved. No hard feelings, right?"

He fist bumped the headstone and helped his wife up off the ground, brushing dirt off of her. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder as they walked to the car. Steve glanced over at the headstone once more. The Upside Down was put to rest, Vecna was dead, but the scars that were given ultimately remained behind. . .a monument to what happened. . .forever etched in stone.

Here Lies Eddie Munson

Beloved, Friend, Nephew, and Hero

"Not all those who wonder are lost. . ."

The End

A/N: I apologize to anyone who is upset by this, I don't have enough money for your therapy bills. Also, notice how I didn't say that Nancy and Jonathan were necessarily married to each other. This also could imply to the others beside Joyce and Hop. It's up to your imagination who the others ended up with.

#stranger things #eddie stranger things #stranger things s4 #stranger things season 4 #eddie munson #eddie munson x sister!oc #eddie munson x henderson!oc #eddie munson fanfiction #dustin henderson #henderson sister #steve harrington #steve harrington x henderson!oc #joseph quinn #joe keery #vampire eddie #vampire eddie munson #kas!eddie #kas the bloody handed #kas theory

[skyfallslayer]

Should We Stay or Should We Go? || Masterlist

-A ST Rewrite Feat. Steve Harrington x Henderson!OFC-

Main Masterlist || OC Fan Art || Spotify Playlist

🎲Summary: On the night of November 6th, 1983, Stephanie Henderson decided to take her little brother’s friend, Will, back home. However… they never arrive. Now, Dustin, Mike and Lucas, and soon the exception of the girl’s ex-best friend, Steve, must band together to find out what happened. Meanwhile, Steph and Will must fight for their survival in this nightmarish version of Hawkins, Indiana.

🎲Pairings: Will x Platonic!OFC; Dustin x Sister!OC; Slow burn! Steve x Henderson!OFC (Ex-bestfriends to Lovers); Slow burn! Byler

🎲Rating: Teen-Mature

🎲Warnings: At the beginning of each chapter.

🎲Word Count: 21,416 (So far)

🎲Start Date: 3/6/24

🎲 End Date: N/A

🎲 A/N: No Idea what possessed me to write this, but i saw everyone else doing something similar and I said to myself... "Hey, why not?". This can be read as reader-insert if like since OC's hair/eye color will only be mention here and there.

|| INDEX ||

Season One:

Prologue: The Pinky Promise

Chapter 1: The Vanishing of Will Byers & Stephanie Henderson

Chapter 2: The Weirdo On Maple Street

Chapter 3: Holly, Jolly Shotgun

Chapter 4: The Bodies

Chapter 5: The Flea & The Acrobat

Chapter 6: The Monster

Chapter 7: The Bathtub & The Sacrifice

Chapter 8: The Upside Down

-Taglist is Open-

@ladygrey03 @poppet05 @tooearlyforthis @lovesfics @lordzzz

@mirkwoodshewolf @sadbitchfangirl @olivewisp

@emsownuniverse @unspecifiedvisitor @smaryamsstuff @kitty49646 @jinxeee @bookkeeperlove

#steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x henderson reader #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington fanfiction #dustin henderson #dustin henderson x sister reader #dustin henderson x reader #eddie munson #will byers x reader #will byers x platonic reader #will byers #stranger things x reader #jopper #jancy #steve harrington x oc #Stephanie Henderson #my fanfic writing #skyfallwrites

[in-a-daddy-state-of-mind]

The Devil in Disguise || Part I

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Henderson!reader

Summary: Your tumultuous relationship with Eddie Munson begins when he saves you by pretending to be your boyfriend

Word Count: 5.2k

Warnings: Creepy strangers, alcohol use, cigarettes, both Eddie and reader are over 18 in this, I think that’s it but let me know if there is anything else.

Notes: This is going to be a two parter with part 2 coming TBD. This is mostly fluff with Eddie and reader being dumb. Next part things will get even more interesting heheh. Also mentions Steddie in there because I can never decide if I want Eddie for myself or if I want him to be with Steve.

Your tumultuous run-ins with Eddie Munson began one night when you made the dire mistake of going to the Hideout by yourself.

You wanted to listen to some good music and it just so happened that no one wanted to go out that night. No bother. You were an independent woman and no one would stop you from having a good time which you mostly did.

Corroded Coffin played and you tried to resist staring at Eddie the entire time. You knew him from school but you doubted he knew you. He was friends with your brother but that’s where the connection between you stopped. That and the times you had come to the Hideout when his band just so happen to be playing and you developed a crush on the long-haired man. Could anyone blame you? Eddie was enchanting up on that stage and it seemed like every aspect of him was turned up to a thousand under the high lights. So you had the pleasure of staring and cheering for the hour sets feeling like a damn groupie. But that was it. The moment he stepped off of the stage he stopped being Eddie Munson, the superstar and went back to being Eddie Munson, the guy that constantly yelled during your lunch period. Just like that the crush was gone.

Today was no exception. You cheered, you cringed at yourself for doing so, and you also enjoyed the other really good bands that played. Just as you were beginning to gather up the courage to pay your bill and leave, a man that looked like he was in his 30s drunkly sat down next to you and began trying to start a conversation. Great, here you go again.

The one bad thing about being a young woman in Hawkins, Indiana who just so happened to like metal and punk was the inability to go out and not get hit on by men almost twice your age. You wanted to be more bold when things like this happened. In your head you told them to shove it and threw your drink on their faces. But in reality, you were too anxious to do anything like that. You mostly entertained the conversation by giving short answers and saying you weren’t interested. And it was also getting late, and your mother was waiting for you so you really should get going.

However, this time around no matter what you said the man would not waiver. He just insisted on keeping the conversation going, saying how pretty you were and how nice of a guy he was. You were beginning to panic and go through the basic self-defense you and Robin had learned that one time in your head when you felt an arm snake around your middle and a large hand rest on your hip.

“Jesus, sweetheart, I really can’t leave you alone, can I? I go to the bathroom for one second and you already have guys pilling on you.” You heard Eddie saying as you turned to stare at him.

You didn’t know what he was doing but the look on his face told you to trust him and go along with it. Hopefully, he could get you out of this.

“Sorry, babe. I keep telling him I’m not interested but it didn’t really stick.” You said in return still only staring at Eddie.

“So, what’s it going to be, asshole? You’re going to keep hitting on my girl?”

Hearing Eddie call you his girl made you feel a certain way you didn’t want to look too much into. You finally got the courage to look at the guy that was previously hitting on you to see a new embarrassed aura fall upon him.

“I’m so sorry, man. She didn’t say she had a boyfriend.” He said apologetically.

“How about you actually apologize to the lady for not leaving her alone, huh?” Eddie replied

The man sheepishly looked over at you and murmured a “sorry” that seemed to be all you were getting.

“Okay, now get the fuck out of here.” Eddie said with confidence.

He didn’t let go of your waist until the man was well off of your eye sight. As he did he immediately turned to you with what seemed to be concern in his eyes.

“Are you okay? I’m so sorry you have to deal with pricks like that to just listen to some decent music in this town.” Eddie immediately checked.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Thank you for the save.” You replied still a little shaken from the whole situation.

There was a moment of silence before Eddie decided to speak again.

“You’re Henderson’s sister right?” He questioned staring at you intensely.

“Yup, the very same.” You replied offering him your hand. “Y/N.”

He shook your hand with a cocky smile opening in his lips.

“Eddie-“

“Munson. Yeah I know who you are.” You finished before he could.

“Does my reputation proceed me?”

“Does mine?” You shot back.

He let out a short laugh at the retort. Fuck, he keeps forgetting how hot Henderson’s sister is. The moment he saw you squirming away from that drunken buffoon something almost primal in him screamed at him to help. He just couldn’t stand and watch any woman get harassed like that but Henderson’s sister specifically had more pull over him than he’d like to admit.

“Well, only that your brother sings your praises. I know you’re into theatre. We had English together once and you did this crazy presentation on how The Great Gatsby relates to the disillusioned Reagan youth?” Eddie began saying.

“I mean Reagan’s a clown. Someone has to say it.”

“It was hella metal.” The fact he remembered it made you blush once again “And I know you’re pals with Steve Harrington. How is he by the way?”

“Well. I mean still working at the video rental shop not sure about what he wants to do with his life and with an apparent inability to get a long-term relationship but well.” You responded sincerely.

Eddie laughed at that opening a smile that made him once again seem a bit more to you like stage Eddie than regular Eddie.

“Do you go around telling Harrington’s dirt to everybody?” Eddie questioned.

“No, but I know you two have history so I don’t think he would mind you knew.” You reply matter-of-factly.

At this Eddie lost his cool composure and despite the dark lighting of the space you could swear you saw him blushing.

“He told you about that?”

“He tells me about everything.” You retorted.

“Well, I hope not EVERYTHING.” He said making you laugh.

She was really charming. As Eddie stood in that filled up bar looking at her laughing at his stupid joke he couldn’t help but fixate on her smile. God, she had a pretty smile. Every second he spent talking to her the notion that she was Henderson’s sister and so it would be a really shitty move of his part to hit on her became more of a distant thought inside of his head that was manageable to ignore.

“Well, m’lady, it was a pleasure to see you here.” Eddie said reluctantly not really wanting to leave your side.

“A pleasure to see you too, Eddie. Your set was really good.”

At this Eddie dramatically grabbed at his heart and made as if he was going to fall over.

“And she has good taste? A woman after my own little heart.” Eddie flirted enjoying the red tint that fell on your cheeks at that.

“What can I say? I’m the full package.” You joked.

“I’ll see you at school, Henderson.” Eddie let out with a smile and made his way back to his friends.

The night had taken a very unexpected turn but not one you were completely opposed to. You finally paid your bill and made your way out of the bar unable to stop smiling like an idiot. Gosh, you really were turning into a groupie. As you made your way home, you told yourself that this was just a meaningless interaction and that as you went back to school everything would return to normal and Eddie would almost forget who you were.

Things very much did not go back to normal after that night at the Hideout. When before you and Eddie Munson would barely cross paths or basically ignore each other when you did, now it seemed like it was impossible for you to not see him everywhere. The hallways, the cafeteria, the library. It seemed that you weren’t even safe outside of school and he would pop up whenever you were at Family Video with Steve.

Not only that but now Eddie made his presence very known to you, and not in the way he made it known to everyone else. You would catch him looking at you during lunch all the time and to be frank he would catch you when you were doing the same. The only difference being that when you caught him he would smile at you cockily and you would immediately look down and blush when he did it.

Whenever you picked up Dustin and his friends from Hellfire Club now, Eddie would be lagging behind as if waiting for you. You would see him lighting a cigarette or talking to the other members or taking his sweet time to tie his shoelaces, basically anything to keep him behind long enough to see you. You started waving at him whenever this happened which would only make him open up the same shit eating grin and wave back at you nonchalantly.

Still this was how you remained. You circled around each other but nothing more. You hadn’t even talked to Eddie since that night and at this point you refused to be the first one to give in on this. Your brother had already teased you endlessly about it after seeing your ritual with Eddie after D&D.

“Someone likes the Dungeon Masteeeer.” Dustin said as soon as he got into your car after you waved Eddie good-bye.

“Dustin, we’ve been over this. First off, no I don’t. And second, calling him that makes it sound incredibly sexual.” You replied all too aware of the awkwardness emanating from Mike and Lucas on your back seat.

“You two are clearly flirting with each other. And knowing Eddie it’s probably sexual.” He retorted as you sped off of the parking lot.

“DUSTIN!” You yelled hitting him on the arm.

After much protest from you and  the other boys you gave a ride home to, Dustin finally let it rest. That, however, did not put an end to this song and dance you and Eddie kept doing.

That was until one night Steve insisted you come with him and Dustin to an outing on a Sunday you didn’t have rehearsal. You accepted suspicious of all this secrecy as to where you were going. It was nothing new for you to hang out with both Dustin and Steve but they weren’t usually this anal about where you were going. So needless to say you were a bit confused when they parked in front of a trailer and Dustin immediately flew out of the car.

“This is a trailer park.” You simply said looking at Steve.

“Wow, your powers of observation never cease to amaze me.” Steve joked as he got out of the car.

You followed Steve into the trailer and to your surprise found most of your brothers’ friends, Robin, and the Hellfire guys all crammed in the small space. At the center of it all was Eddie Munson sitting on a goddamn throne and observing his band of subjects. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes as you looked at Steve.

“Seriously? You’re in on this as well?” You questioned your best friend.

“He asked me to bring you, okay? Be nice.” Steve insisted, not smoothly pushing you in Eddie’s direction.

Somewhat reluctantly you made your way next to Munson. Despite his being sat down and thus in the circumstances smaller than you he still exuded the ego that could annoy you to no end. He was clearly in his element. These were his people. You were the guest. And yet one nagging question still stood-

“So you need Harrington to invite girls out for you?”

“What can I say? I get nervous around pretty women.” Eddie replied simply once again making you blush.

It seemed like making your face red was becoming a sport for him. You looked around to mask your awkwardness.

“So this is Hellfire?” You asked looking back at him.

“In all its satanic glory.” Eddie said with a smile.

“So what do I pick my brother up from every Tuesday?”

“That’s also Hellfire. This is a side campaign we do so Harrington can play with us. He brought Buckley along one time and she kind of just stayed too.” Eddie explained once again examining his subjects.

You looked at Eddie again as a small quiet fell on him. Here, sitting on this stupid throne, amongst the people he clearly loved you were already beginning to see a glimpse of stage Eddie coming through and that meant trouble for you. Lost in your thought you ended up not noticing you were staring at Eddie.

“You ever played D&D?” Eddie asked taking you off your head.

“I’m an actor. Yeah, I’ve played D&D before.” You reply as if it were obvious.

“Oh, so the theatre kids are fellow adventurers?”

“We are. Except not all of us have to make a show out of everything we like.”

“I’m sorry I thought we were talking about the theatre kids.” Eddie joked.

“Says the man that is constantly climbing on lunch tables and yelling at the basketball team.” You replied without a thought.

“Touche.” Eddie conceited opening a smile. “Will you stay for the game then? They could use help beating this campaign.” With this Eddie leaned further back in the chair with an air of coolness “I’m not sure who makes the campaigns for you little theatre nerds but I’m pretty sure you’ve never seen anything like the shit I draw up before.”

“Oh you are on, Munson. I will destroy you.”

Turns out Hellfire was a lot of fun. Everyone took being in character very seriously which allowed you to do it as well. Not only that but you got to see Eddie play different characters which was just out of this world. By the end of it you were almost asking if he didn’t want to audition with you for the community theatre summer program after you both finished high school.

By the end of the night, you were all dead and the only two survivors were Steve and your brother. You tried not to be overly anxious as you watch them both argue against the next move.

“You have to get more than 17, Steve. These are very low odds.” Dusting nagged as Steve got more exasperated.

“I know, Henderson. Jesus, do you ever shut up?” Steve shot back.

“It’s hard to when the future of the entire party rests on our shoulders, Steve!” You brother yelled back.

“Just throw the damn dice!” Max yelled at both of them.

Steve threw the dice and there was a moment of absolute quiet as all of you waited for the die to roll. Before you could even process which number it landed on, you hear the room around you explode in cheer as Steve grabs you brother and begins jumping with him. You laugh as the group of people around you continue celebrating. You shoot a look at Eddie who is dramatically playing the death of the dragon your group finally beat. You smile to yourself and high-five Steve as he comes next to you.

After the end of the game, you discover that Hellfire does not end. Instead they continue in Eddie’s trailer, ordering pizza, half of them watching some movie Robin brought over from the store and the rest just sitting around and talking. You sit next to your brother, Steve and Mike as they recount to you what had happened in the campaign before you came to join them. Out of the corner of your eye you see Eddie exiting the trailer and you excuse yourself to follow.

When you arrive on the outside of the trailer you see Eddie lighting a cigarette and staring up at the sky.

“That was a pretty good campaign.” You say seeing Eddie jump at the sound of your voice.

“Christ, sweetheart, you almost gave me a heart attack.” Eddie says as you approach his side.

“You were right. You are much better than my DM.” You let out ignoring his comment.

“You flatter me.”

“Can I have one of yours?” You say pointing at the cigarette.

“You smoke?” Eddie asks incredulously.

You just nod and he gives you one of his cigarettes. Instead of pulling out his lighter to light up yours he instead choses to get unbearably close to you and light it with his own. After a few puffs of smoke have left your mouth you take a step back and take a deep drag as Eddie analyzes you.

Seeing you here, in his trailer, smoking one of his cigarettes, Eddie can barely believe that this isn’t a dream.

“You are not what I expected.” Eddie lets out almost subconsciously.

“You’re not what I expected either.” You reply giving him a small smile.

“What did you expect?”

“Selfish, asshole, who loves attention and is sort of mean to my brother despite saying is his friend.” You replied honestly.

“Well, I expected a prissy, little goody two shoes who is also a spoiled rich girl.” Eddie shot back.

“Guess neither of us missed the mark too much, huh?” You joked.

“Yeah, I guess not.” Eddie laughed.

You two fall silent again as you drag on your respective cigarettes. The night is peaceful and the weather is nice. You notice how many stars you can see in the sky from the trailer park. At that you imagine Eddie laying on top of the trailer and looking at the sky. His veiny arms resting below his head. He looks almost angelic in your head.

“You should come again next week.” Eddie blurts out pulling you out of your fantasy.

“What?”

“You should come to Hellfire, again.” He says again with less confidence than you usually see him with.

“Okay.” You simply say taking him by surprise.

“Wait, really?” He asks incredulously.

“Yeah. It was fun. I would love to come back.” You said with a smile. “I would also love to destroy your campaign once again next week.”

“I will not go as easy on you the next time, sweetheart.” Eddie replied with a smile.

With that you both put out your cigarettes and made your way back into the trailer. God, if you were going to have to see Eddie Munson emphatically play different characters every week you were going to be in trouble.

Turns out you loved Hellfire almost as much as you loved theatre. Because of rehearsals you could only attend the Sunday campaign but god was it fun. You enjoyed the time with your friends but you also enjoyed the new people you hadn’t met before. Most of all you seemed to enjoy becoming closer to Eddie.

After the first session as you kept coming back to the game you and Eddie became closer and closer. You would gravitate towards each other after the games and spend hours talking until your brother dragged you out of the trailer since you both needed to be at school the next day.

Not only that but as soon as you became a part Hellfire, Eddie started speaking to you in school as well. It seemed like he would find any excuse he could to come to your locker and talk to you. He forgot his notebook and needed some pages from yours (despite the fact that you had never seen him taking notes in a class), his lighter was busted could he borrow yours for the day, and you were pretty good in English, right? Turns out that he really was in dire need of help in his class despite the fact that you knew he read almost as much as you did.

You weren’t complaining though. You enjoyed the senseless flirting, his deep laugh and the way he looked at you when he thought you weren’t looking. As little as you would like to admit it the more time that passed the more obvious it was that you were falling hard for the metalhead. You only wished he would do something about it. Which was what you were ranting about to Robin and Steve as they worked at Family Video.

“I just don’t see why he would keep obviously flirting with me and not say anything!” You said exasperated as Steve lifted an eyebrow.

“How obvious are we talking?” Robin yelled from where she was putting away a stack of returned tapes.

“I asked for a Hellfire shirt and he said he couldn’t give me one because he wouldn’t be able to contain himself if he saw me wearing it.” You replied back watching Steve cringe at the thought of you and Eddie doing anything sexual.

You could hear Robin murmuring “that’s pretty obvious” as she went back to putting the tapes away.

“Look, Y/N, the thing with Eddie is that outside of the fantasy world? He’s a total coward.” Steve replied wanting to put an end to this discussion.

“Was he a coward with you?”

“Yes!” Both Steve and Robin shot back.

With this Robin quickly went on a rant about how Steve actually had to be the first one of them to make a queer advance because of Eddie and how frustrating that was. You grunted rolling your eyes. God you hated how Eddie had this ability to drive everyone insane. It was a talent you had to admit it.

“So what does he expect? To just keep stringing me along?” You interrupted.

“Or maybe he wants you to make a move.” Steve said nonchalantly.

“He’s going to keep fucking waiting.” You said matter-of-factly.

“Oh my god, can you Hendersons ever put your ego aside for one second? You rather just stay in this cat and mouse game then? Just so you’re not the first one to give in?” Steve argued looking like he was about done with your bullshit.

Well, you couldn’t really argue with that. So you concocted a plan that would surely make Eddie either ask you out once and for all or you would fucking conceit and do it yourself.

That is how you ended up in Steve’s car, wearing your skimpiest black outfit, with your brother in the back driving to the Hideout. You were going to seek the beast where he was most comfortable. It didn’t take your brother much convincing to drag him along with you, he had been curios to hear the music his little messiah would rant about. Steve was the one that you had to drag along a little more. He wasn’t a prude or anything but this wasn’t his scene, still you knew that deep down you would do anything for each other so in the end he came along.

As soon as you all got crosses on all your hands the three of you made your way into the bar. Luckily, at this point you were already friends with the bartender to the point that he would sneak you drinks despite your age. Just enough to the point he knew was safe. You almost laughed as you made your way to Steve and Dustin standing in front of the stage. They could not look more out of place.

Steve almost yanked the drink out of your hand chugging half of it immediately. You laughed at him sipping your own.

“You nervous there, Steve?” You teased.

“Never actually seen him play.”

You could almost see him sweating. You knew from Steve that him and Eddie had fooled around in the past. You also knew that Eddie was the first guy Steve had ever been with but in your own frustration and enchantment with Eddie Munson it never really occurred to you how this was impacting your best friend. You hated that you never really thought there might still be something there for him.

“Shit. I’m sorry, are you okay?” You said lightly making sure no on could hear you “Are you okay with this?”

“Oh, yeah. Don’t worry about it. Eddie and I are history.” Steve assured you taking another sip.

“Doesn’t mean you’re not nervous to see him all sweaty in his element though, right?”

“Yep.”

As if on cue, you hear the small crowd begin cheering and see the members walking on stage. Your heart seems to skip a beat as your eyes land on Eddie holding his electric guitar, wearing a sleeveless Metallica tee, a little bit of eyeliner and a bandana across his forehead. The second he gets to the microphone he spots you and your tiny band of outcasts and opens that intoxicating smile that seems to only happen on that stage.

“Rockers, criminals, and misfits of the Hideout, we are Corroded Coffin.” Eddie begins introducing and stops for the wave of cheers that follows that sentence. Despite him playing it down his band had actually gathered a small group of fans that you would see repeatedly every time you happened to be at the Hideout when they played.

“I would like to specially dedicate tonight’s performance to a special little lady in the audience.” With that Eddie pointed straight at you. “Folks, get yourselves a girl that will drag her friends out to watch your shitty band play on Thursday evenings. Except not this one because she is taken.”

As soon as those words left Eddie’s lips, Gareth yelled “ah one, two, three, four!” and the music was enveloping you and the rest of the crowd. You could feel Steve leaning closer to you to yell in your ear.

“Is he seriously being possessive right now?”

“You heard him just as well as I did.” You yell back.

“I’m going to kick his ass.”

“Have you actually ever won a fight, Steve?” You could hear your brother yelling in reply.

Steve shoved him lightly as you laughed. The rest of the set was just a blur of you yelling lyrics and at some point both Dustin and Steve becoming comfortable enough that they were also jumping at the beat and yelling out at the end of every song.

As the set was over and the lights came back on, Steve and you were already three drinks in and all three of you were covered in sweat. Despite of what happened next you were considering this night a success. You paid for your tab and rushed over to Steve and Dustin again.

“Come on!” You yelled grabbing Dustin’s hand and heading towards the exit that lead to the stage door.

Steve followed you two as you made your way through the crowd of drunks and groupies. As soon as the cold air hit your face you could see the four men with their instruments already in cases chatting with the security guard and some beginning to make their way out. Eddie was lazily laying against a wall with a cigarette perched on his lips. You could hear his laugh making its way through the cold night to you.

Gareth was the first one to spot you three and yell out. The warmth that spread through your stomach as you saw Eddie opening a smile as his eyes set on you was something you were becoming used to at this point.

“Well, Edward, that was… interesting music.” Dustin said as you arrived next to the band members.

“Not really in the mood to take notes right now. So why don’t you keep it to yourself, okay?” Eddie replied sarcastically never taking his eyes off of you.

Jesus, you looked good. From the second he saw you from the stage it was like you had cast a spell on him or something. The outfit perfectly hugged your body and it was the hottest thing Eddie had ever seen you wear. It was taking everything in him to not drag you backstage and have you on the shitty couch in the green room.

“I will say that was something, Munson.” Steve commented where he stood next to you with his arm over your shoulder.

For the first time, Eddie shifted his eyes from you to Steve. His perfect stupid hair was covered in sweat and his cheeks were reddened.

“Maybe you should have come here sooner. I’m sure she would have appreciated it.” Eddie shot back motioning to you. “But you know I am a simple man I’ll take what I can get.”

“Yeah, you and simple don’t seem to go well together.” Steve shot back casually.

“Whatever, Harrington.” Eddie waved off “You look good though, man.”

“You do too.” Steve replied back all too aware of how this felt more sincere than it did feel like flirting.

You and Steve and you are interrupted by your brother’s yelling.

“We can give everyone a lift, right?”

“Henderson, how many people do you think fit in my fucking car?!” Steve yelled back and moved away leaving you and Eddie by yourselves.

You were silent for a second as Eddie offered you his cigarette. You gladly took it taking a deep inhale, nervous all of a sudden.

“You guys did great tonight.” You finally say breaking the silence.

“Thanks, sweetheart. Your praise does mean everything to me.”

His eyes quickly did a once-over looking you up and down.

“Harrington is also not the only one looking good tonight.” He commented smirking.

“Well, I must say the rockstar look does suit you well too, Eds.”

With that you take one more deep drag of the cigarette gathering up the courage for what you came here to do. You hoped with the alcohol in your system it would have been easier but it seems like it only made you more jittery around Eddie. Well, fuck it. It was now or never.

“So is all this flirting you keep doing with me for nothing or are you ever going to actually ask me out, Munson?” You blurted out almost throwing up the words.

Eddie almost reeled back in surprise from your words. To say he was not expecting this would be an understatement. He nervously laugh and took a drag off the cigarette himself tossing it away.

“You are ruthless, aren’t you?” He finally said sheepishly.

“I think ruthless would have been if I said this about two weeks ago.” You shot back.

“Touche.”

Suddenly Eddie in a grand gesture kneeled down and grabbed one of your hands as if he was about to break into a soliloquy.

“My most honorable, beautiful, lovely doll. Sweetheart. Y/N Henderson, would you do me the utmost honor of going on a date with me?” He finally stated making you laugh.

“I thought you’d never ask.” You joked back.

#eddie munson #eddie x fem!reader #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x female oc #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson fics #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x henderson!sister #eddie munson x henderson!reader #eddie munson fluff

[lg-123]

Minor Setback

Summary: Eddie meets this amazing girl who is tutoring him, but he doesn’t know it’s one of his closest friend’s older sister. 

Pairing: eddie munson x henderson!reader

Part 2: https://lg-123.tumblr.com/post/689151918879227904/minor-setback-pt-2

masterlist

“Dustin hurry you’re ass up!” Delilah yelled down the hall. She had been waiting on the boy for 10 minutes and if he was any later, she would be late. “Shit!” Dustin said, muffled behind his door. He had been talking to Suzie and lost track of time. He cursed again as he tripped over his shoes and quickly grabbed his backpack. He met his sister out at her car, who then began to scold him. 

“If you want to talk to Suzie you have to wake up earlier or at least make sure you have pants on.” Pants. Pants! He forgot pants. Delilah laughed as her brother sprinted back inside the house. Ms. O’Donnell had asked her last minute to tutor a student. She didn’t want to have him in her class for a third year in a row, which Del completely understood. She can’t imagine having Ms. O’Donnell for 3 years. That would be awful. Dustin finally came back out, wearing pants this time. 

The drive to the school was filled with Black Sabbath and Metallica, courtesy of the mix tape Will and Lucas gave her for Christmas. “Here Dustin can you clean these?” Delilah asked while handing Dustin her glasses. “Um? I don’t think that’s a good idea. You’re like blind.” Dustin responded, pushing the glasses back into her hand. She huffed at the boy, mumbling something about having collar bones. This was how the two were, though they didn’t speak usually at school, they still had a good bond. Delilah liked Dungeons and Dragons, not as much as her brother and his friends, but she still stepped in when one of them was sick. 

At the school, Delilah left Dustin in the car. He usually napped when she met up early for tutoring. The halls were quiet, the faint sound of basketballs being dribbled echoed down the hall. The library was even quieter than normal, the only person there was the librarian, who just smiled at the girl. Delilah found a big table towards the back and proceeded to pull out the textbook and her notebook. She also had pre-written most of the notes, incase whoever did not want to actually meet up to study. Lastly, Delilah pulled out her planner and checked the name that was highlighted. 

“Eddie Munson” She mumbled out.

“That’s me!” The voice surprised Delilah, causing her to tip out of her chair. “Oh Shit.” The voice said again, and two arms grabbed the girl and helped her back to her feet. “Sorry about that, I’m usually not so jumpy.” Delilah was beyond embarrassed. Looking up, she was surprised. Eddie Munson was Dustin’s Hellfire leader. Not only that but he was the cute guy from her history class. She was stupid. Unbeknownst to Delilah, Eddie was having the same conversation in his head. This was the cute girl from his history class. What he didn’t know is who her brother was. 

“Anyways, I’m Delilah.” Del stuck her hand out for the boy to shake, which he did. “Eddie.” He smiled back. The tutoring session went pretty normal, until Delilah started to hum a song Eddie knew all too well. “You listen to Black Sabbath?”

Delilah was snapped from her thoughts. “Um yeah. They are like my all-time favorite band.” Eddie swore he died at her words. They spent the next 10 minutes talking about music. They found they had a lot in common. Both were sad when the time ended but Eddie was happy that she was tutoring him for the rest of the year. They both said their goodbyes, both blushing as the turned away. Delilah figured it would be tomorrow when she saw him next, but she was very wrong.

--------------------

“I’m telling you guys, she was amazing. We barely studied, we just talked.” Eddie explained to the guys at the table. Jeff just laughed at him. Eddie had told them all about “this amazing girl that was tutoring him” and how he actually likes her. “We had so much in common, I mean same music taste, same hatred for Ms. O’Donnell, it’s like she’s perfect.” The boys were surprised at his sudden infatuation. 

“Hey why don’t you go out with Dustin’s sister; she likes Black Sabbath and Dungeons and Dragons.” Mike suggested, which earned a slap on the arm from Dustin himself. Eddie just laughed at the boy.

‘That’s very tempting boys but I don’t think I’ll pass on Dustin’s nerdy older sister. I guarantee she’s not as pretty and amazing as this girl.” Eddie spoke, smiling towards the ceiling. 

Only Mike noticed Delilah seated behind him, he watched as her head fell. And when she walked out of the cafeteria, he swore he saw a tear fall. 

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #stranger things #henderson reader #dustin's older sister #dustin henderson #mike wheeler #x Henderson!OC

[001-lvr]

Dream

(Eddie Munson + platonic!sister oc)

Warnings: major character death (not really) st s4 vol2 spoilers, major angst, mentions of sh, happy ending!! (Fully cried while making this)

“I didn’t run away this time, right?”

Those words haunted Sydney every day. When she woke up in the trailer, she’d immediately be reminded that when she gets out of bed, eddie wouldn’t be there to say good morning to her. Eddie wouldn’t be there to drive her to school. Eddie wouldn’t be there to make her favourite breakfast. Eddie wouldn’t be there to watch stupid horrors and comedies with her on their small tv. Eddie wouldn’t be there at all.

She was there when Eddie died, when he took his last breath. Not much of a breath since he was choking on his own blood, but she was there in his last moments. Both her and Dustin begging him not to leave them.

“You’re going to need to take care of those little sheep for me, you two.”

Syd shook her head, furiously wiping the tears that ran down her cheeks. “No Eddie don’t you dare say that. You’re going to do that yourself. You’re going to pick yourself up right now and we’re going to get out of here. You’re going to graduate and you’re going to look after those sheep. Now get up you little fucker! Get up! Stand up!”

Eddie laughed painfully, his own eyes filling with unshed tears. “Have you seen my stomach? Those bats are well fed. There’s no way in hell I’m getting out of here. And that’s okay, I didn’t run away. Not this time. Even if I look like a fucking idiot laying here on the ground, choking on my own blood, I’d do all of this again.” He looked up at the clouded sky of the upside down and the tears finally spilled over. “But you, syd and Dustin, are going to get out of here. Because I said so. Hellfire is your responsibility now, okay? And I’ll be there. You won’t see me, but I’ll be there. And I’ll be so proud of you both. Syd, look after uncle Wayne, alright? And look after my boys for me. Dustin, look after syd. Don’t let her be alone, there’s no one at our trailer as it is.” Dustin nodded, not being able to form a proper sentence, he was crying too much. Syd wiped the tears from eddies face. “I’ll leave your throne for you. That’s your throne Eddie, you’re a hero. But damn you for going back in here! What happened to not being heroes, huh?! Lying son of a bitch. But dude what you did out there was super metal, with the guitar and shit. And when you come back as a ghost or whatever, please come back to the trailer. Let me know you’re there. I don’t want to be alone.” Syds voice cracked as she spoke, her mascara smudging. Eddies bottom lip wobbled. “I love you both, s..so much. Both of you, don’t ever change.” And that was it. Syd screamed. Dustin cursed those bats, which were coming towards them. “Come on syd we gotta go!” He said, as he tried to pull syd away. Syd hugged Eddie one more time, before following Dustin.

Syd barely got any sleep since then. It had been a week. Every time she closed her eyes, she heard Eddies screams as the bats took chunks out of him. She went to sit in eddies room, when she saw a box of old tapes. She knew what they were, old memories of the both of them. She picked them up and put them in the tape player in the tv.

*5 years ago, 1981*

It was Halloween, 1981. Syd was dressed up as a vampire and so was Eddie. Eddie checked to see if it was rolling and then pointed the camera at syd.

“This is my baby sister, Sydney. We call her syd. She’s 9 years old and for this Halloween. We’re dressed as vampires! Which is super metal by the way.” Sydney laughed and took the camera from Eddie and pointed it at him. “Well, Eddie looks like a vampire all the time! It’s like he’s allergic to the sun. Always wearing black.” Eddie snorted. “Shut up butthead. Anyway! What are we doing tonight, syd?!” As he set the camera up on its own and he stood next to syd, ruffling her hair. “We’re going trick or treating! and we’re going to take way more candy than it tells us to. And then! We’re going to throw toilet paper over Jason’s house! I don’t know who Jason is, but Eddie says he’s a big jerk. So I think he’s a big jerk too.” Eddie put his arm around syds shoulder and looked proudly at his sister. “That’s right, and we’re going to have so much fun. Then after, we’ll stay up all night watching movies and stuffing our faces with candy!” Sydney gave a toothless grin, “well what are we waiting for, Eds? Let’s go! Let’s go now!” And she grabbed the camera shutting it off.

Syd was in tears by the end, the nostalgic feeling tugging at her heartstrings. With shaky hands, she put the tapes away. She couldn’t watch any more. She hated Eddie for going back into the upside down, but she knew he wouldn’t forgive himself if he didn’t. She went back to eddies bedroom and put one of his other hellfire club T-shirts on. She fell asleep in his bed, the first time she’s slept in a few days.

meanwhile…

Eddie had woken up in the upside down, in pain, but alive. He was surprised to see no more bites on him. He remembered Sydney and Dustin, they way they begged him to get up. And he did just that. He made his way to his upside down trailer and patched himself up before grabbing a bedsheet and tying it before throwing it up into another gate in the upside down that was just about to lose up in the other Hawkins. He found himself in the normal Hawkins. He sighed in relief before wincing in pain. Sydney. He needed to get back to Sydney. He limped about 3 miles before he got back to his trailer. He opened it and walked in. He could almost cry, he survived after all. He wondered if syd would be excited to see him. He went to Sydney’s room, only to not see her there. His brows furrowed in worry before he went to his room. And the sight before him broke his heart. Syd curled up in his bed in one of his T-shirts and his guitar pick necklace over her neck. Her cheeks were stained with tears and her cheeks were a concerning shade of white.

He slowly walked up to her, sitting on the edge of his bed. He noticed something on her right arm. Fresh scars. He held her arm in his hand and just stared. He’d never teared up so quickly in his life. He looked back at Sydney and sighed shakily. “oh syd..” Sydney stirred in her sleep and her eyes opened slowly. She looked around the room for a bit before locking eyes with Eddie. She didn’t seem to do anything about it. Like she was used to it. He smiled weakly. “Hey butthead, I’m here.”

Syd shook her head. “No you’re not. You aren’t real.” She mumbled, before laying back on eddies bed. Eddie felt his bottom lip tremble again. “yeah I am, syd. I’m here. I’m not dead, I’m here. I passed out from blood loss is all, took me a few days to be able to get back here though. But I really am here, syd. I promise you.” She quickly sat back up and looked at him, reaching an arm out to touch his hair. She gasped when it felt real, she touched his face, his hands and his rings. All real. “I’m not dreaming, am I?” She timidly asked, scared that if she spoke too loud she’d wake up, and he’d be gone. “No, you’re not. I’m right here. I got up like you told me to, I’m really set on graduating this time.” She looked him in the eyes, and burst into a fit of tears. Hugging him both as tightly and as gently as she could. She couldn’t believe it. She didn’t think she’d ever see him again. This felt so unreal.

Eddie too started to cry, this felt just as unreal for him. Didn’t think he’d be able to hug his sister ever again. “You’re going to look after those sheep yourself. Just like I said.” She mumbled into his jacket. He let out a tearful laugh and nodded, before pulling away and gently holding her arm. She looked down at it and got worried. “I know you might feel like harming yourself is the only way to feel something, and believe me when I say I understand you. And I’m not mad at you, I know you may have thought that it was the only way out. But I promise you, I’m here now. I know it’ll be hard at first, but please, please try not to hurt yourself anymore. Not just for me, but for your sake too.” He grabbed some plasters from his top drawer and put them over each one of her scars. She nodded. “I won’t do it again, I promise.” Eddie nodded and kissed her head.

“We need to get you to a real hospital though, this week has been hell without you and I don’t want to risk losing you again. Don’t worry, your name is cleared. You don’t have to hide anymore eds. you’re safe back here in Hawkins. Just wait to see the look on Wayne’s face when he sees you’re back! And I’m dustins! And Steve’s! He still wears your jacket. No time to waste! Let’s go!” And with that, they went to the hospital.

Graduation, 1986

Sydney smiled brightly as she saw her brother walk the stage proudly. He looked at Sydney and gave her a devilish smile before looking principal higgins dead in the eye, flipped him the bird, snatched his diploma and ran out. Everyone cheered for him. Dustin and syd cheered the loudest. Glad they got to see this day. Eddie got what he deserved. He cleared his name, he could live freely.

Eddie, ‘the hero’ Munson

“It’s my year! ‘86 baby’” he shouted as he left Hawkins high for the last time, Sydney and Dustin right behind him, the biggest smiles plastered on their faces.

This is what Eddie deserved.

#stranger things x reader #angst to fluff #pls request #stranger things #yassified #eddie munson #platonic #eddie the freak munson #ok bye #hellfire club #sister!reader #my ocs #pls reblog #pls like #SoundCloud

[a-strange-inkling]

Maggie and Livvy in Spanish 🎸🥁

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZT8RxqsuW/

😭 it is!

They are so talented and precious!

#the munson sisters #my ocs #hellcheer fanfiction #hellcheer #eddie x chrissy #eddissy #munningham #chrissy x eddie #hellcheer fanfic #old haunts #livvy munson #maggie munson

[mystic-scripture]

~~ Introducing Highway to Hell: A Stranger Things Story~~

“I’ve been telling you for years, you'd be surprised about the things Nancy Wheeler can and would do...”

The responding statement would haunt Stella Henderson well after it altered her life forever.

“Says the one that went and ditched us the second she got into high school and landed herself some mystery boyfriend.”

The accusation was a false one, but she hasn't been surprised at how Nancy had twisted it when 'sharing' with Barb because it beat the alternative. That the older Henderson was deemed ‘too wild’ by Nancy’s mother, and ‘not good enough’ for her perfect daughter. Playing wild games instead of studying, and partaking in debaucherous substances while she did so. But that wasn't the worst part about the day Karen Wheeler decided that Stella wasn’t allowed in her home anymore, no. wasn't even the fact that Dustin now went over there constantly to partake in a game she’d introduced the younger siblings to. It wasn't even that the very acceptance of it in the boys versus her seemed to cement some antiquated gender roles in play at the Wheelers. No, it was the fact that Nancy seemed to agree and didn't fight for her.

But of course Barb never learned that. Stella had already lost one friend going down that path, so why lose a second, just because Nancy Wheeler "Grew up"? Instead, she caught betwixt two worlds her sophomore year. The world where she’d garnished a truce with Nancy to stay friends with Barb a grade below her, and her secret life of DnD and freakish delight with her boyfriend a year above.

The same boyfriend that snuck into Barb’s funeral to hold her hand, and stayed by her side as she processed the grief. The same boyfriend that she held close and hidden away from everyone who wasn’t in their little club, and would bring her dinner at the game shop- no matter how bad he was at cooking. The very same boyfriend that was unaware of the dangers that continually cursed her brother and his friends the past two years. The boyfriend she’d broken up with in the name of keeping him safe.

But this wasn’t the story of how she lost Barb anyway, or how she’d legitimately rekindled her friendship with Nancy. No, this was the story of how Stella Henderson stopped running from the love of her life, Eddie Munson, and how it took nearly losing him and the rest of her home forever to realize it. 

Hellfire Club Taglist: @drbobbimorse @bubblegum-barbie

@booty-boggins @starcrossedjedis @harleyquinnzelz @susiesamurai @juliaswickcrs (Want to be added? hmu! <3)

#Fic: Highway to Hell #Stella Henderson #fd: stranger things #Eddie x OC #Eddie Munson x OC #Dustin Henderson Sister OC #Hendersister!OC #scriptures of the mystic #edits of the mystic #Introduction Post

[lunaloveeee]

Haven’t posted about my girl Jude in a bit. But here’s my first ever Eddie x OC fic that I’m getting so close to finishing and it’s sort of breaking my heart to see it. But after that it’s plotting for my Eddie x Reader that will be a completely new storyline and I’m so ready for it. ✨✨

#eddie munson x oc #eddie munson fic #Eddie munson fluff #Eddie munson angst #mayfield sister #eddie munson x original character #original character fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things #Eddie munson x original female character

[sofiiel]

𝕾𝖊𝖜 𝖄𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝕳𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖙 𝖙𝖔 𝕸𝖞 𝕾𝖑𝖊𝖊𝖛𝖊

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄: 𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐧

ᴘʀᴇᴠɪᴏᴜꜱ | ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ/ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ | ɴᴇxᴛ

𝒟𝑒𝒸 𝟤𝟥𝓇𝒹 𝟣𝟫𝟪𝟢

𝐻𝑜𝓁𝓎 𝓈𝒽𝒾𝓉 𝓈𝒽𝑜𝓁𝓎 𝓈𝒽𝒾𝓉 𝒽𝑜𝓁𝓎 𝓈𝒽𝒾𝓉 𝒽𝑜𝓁𝓎 𝓈𝒽𝒾𝓉 𝒽𝑜𝓁𝓎 𝓈𝒽𝒾𝓉 𝒽𝑜𝓁𝓎 𝓈𝒽𝒾𝓉 𝒽𝑜𝓁𝓎 𝓈𝒽𝒾𝓉 𝒽𝑜𝓁𝓎 𝓈𝒽𝒾𝓉 𝒽𝑜𝓁𝓎 𝓈𝒽𝒾𝓉 𝒽𝑜𝓁𝓎 𝓈𝒽𝒾𝓉 𝒽𝑜𝓁𝓎 𝓈𝒽𝒾𝓉 𝒽𝑜𝓁𝓎 𝓈𝒽𝒾𝓉 𝒽𝑜𝓁𝓎 𝓈𝒽𝒾𝓉 𝒽𝑜𝓁𝓎 𝓈𝒽𝒾𝓉 𝒽𝑜𝓁𝓎 𝓈𝒽𝒾𝓉 𝒽𝑜𝓁𝓎 𝓈𝒽𝒾𝓉 𝒽𝑜𝓁𝓎 𝓈𝒽𝒾𝓉 𝒽𝑜𝓁𝓎 𝓈𝒽𝒾𝓉 𝒽𝑜𝓁𝓎 𝓈𝒽𝒾𝓉.

𝐼𝒻 𝒶𝓃𝓎𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝒻𝒾𝓃𝒹𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈, 𝐼 𝒹𝒾𝒹 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉𝓇𝓎, 𝐼 𝒹𝒾𝒹 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝓇𝓊𝓃 𝒶𝓌𝒶𝓎. 𝒮𝑜𝓂𝑒𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝑔𝑜𝓉 𝓂𝑒, 𝒾𝓉 𝑔𝑜𝓉 𝓂𝑒, 𝓈𝒽𝑒 𝑔𝑜𝓉 𝓂𝑒. 𝐿𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝓈𝒽𝑒 𝓅𝓇𝑜𝒷𝒶𝒷𝓁𝓎 𝒿𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝒶𝓉𝑒 𝒥𝑒𝒻𝒻, 𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝒻𝓊𝒸𝓀𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒷𝓇𝑜𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇.

"𝐼𝓉'𝓈 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝒻𝒶𝓊𝓁𝓉" 𝒽𝑒 𝓈𝒶𝒾𝒹 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓉𝑒𝒹 𝓂𝑒, 𝓂𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝒻𝑒𝑒𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓉𝓁𝑒 𝓂𝓊𝓇𝒹𝑒𝓇.

𝐼 𝓇𝑒𝓅𝑒𝒶𝓉, 𝐼 𝒹𝒾𝒹 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉𝓇𝓎. 𝐼 𝒹𝒾𝒹 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝓇𝓊𝓃 𝒶𝓌𝒶𝓎. 𝒥𝓊𝓈𝓉, 𝒽𝑜𝓁𝓎 𝓈𝒽𝒾𝓉.

𝐼 𝓃𝑒𝑒𝒹 𝓉𝑜 𝑔𝑜 𝒷𝒶𝒸𝓀 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓈𝑒𝑒 𝒶𝒷𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝒥𝑒𝒻𝒻. 𝑀𝒶𝓎𝒷𝑒 𝒾𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓂𝑜𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔, 𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓈𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 𝒹𝑜𝓃'𝓉 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓈𝓊𝓃, 𝓇𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉

- 𝐸𝒹𝒹𝒾𝑒

"Look out the window, the sounds in the wind, you hear the siren, again and again"

Armored Saint blared on the radio, vibrating the old walls of the green van.

Eddie removed his jacket as he and Moon sat in the back of his van. The seat folded down and blankets tossed across. Her eyes lingered on the tattoo of a widow on his neck, a perfect place to hide a set of four little puncture wounds.

Moon gave her lips a lick, the felt awful dry and Eddie was taking his time. She watched him light shift his hair to the side to full expose his neck to her. "Alright." he exhaled. It was the same every time, from his fingertips to his toes, he was filled with the jitters of anticipation.

Awaiting pain that fell into a lulling subtle high, "None of the books mentioned their bite is a venom." Eddie thought to himself.

He gave a shiver as Moon's cold body pressed against his back, her arms wrapping under his to hold him in an embrace. She blew warm air through her lips against the skin of his neck. Eddie chuckled, he knew she could feel his heart racing. She loved little more than to make thing unbearably slow.

"Not a bad deal, this ones for real, I can't let it go"

Eddie tilted his head and swallowed slowly, Moon glared, and he could feel her nails dig lightly at his chest. "You teased first." Eddie chuckled. "I'm allowed to." Moon murmured. "It's you that kept me waiting, remember." she whispered, lightly kissing along the tattoo.

His eyes closed, the light little kisses gaining in pressure as Moon sucked lightly as his skin, prodding his neck with her fangs but careful not yet to break the skin. Eddie's hand reached up to grasp Moons, his other reaching behind him to lean her head forward.

Moon smirked as he tried to press her fangs into the skin by force. "Just do it, stop being so mean. I won't do it again." Eddie muttered, and with that Moon's fangs sang deep in a swift puncture.

Eddie sighed in a hushed hiss and as he felt the blood seep out from the wound, something else melted in. it was a hot sting, like downing a glass of whiskey too fast, and it was oddly comforting.

With gentle pressure, Moon rolled her tongue around the wounds to help pump out the blood her fangs drew from him. Eddie leaned his head back as the soft effects of the venomous saliva seeped in. Opening his eyes, Eddie found he felt lighter than before and as if wrapped in a soft blanket.

"It won't do any harm, just another false alarm"

His gaze was stuck to the ceiling of the van, fingers tangling in Moon's hair as she drank away, using her tongue and lips to keep the skin around the wound soft and awake. Eddie's breath quickened, "part two," he thought, "possibly the best part." when that gently high fell into a rushing stimulant.

Guiding her hand down, Eddie aided Moon in caressing the steady stiffening in his jeans. Her smirk against his neck and the soft giggle that cause her fangs to vibrate in his skin nearly drew another sigh from him. Flicking his hand away from hers, Moon rubbed along his shaft line slowly, she could almost hear his thoughts protesting. He liked it much faster.

Although, it had been a month of nothing, and it didn't back long for his hips to arch forward, adding more friction. The high was becoming maddening, and it alone was drawing him closer.

He whispered her name, and she drew her fangs deeper. Moon lost in the thundering of his heart beat, she could hear and feel his pulse through his veins. She adored that rallying sound that pulled her deeper into a compulsion. Of the small handful of people she'd had the chance to drink from, his heart wrung the loudest and strongest, jolting her own to pump at full strength like no other could.

Eddie's hands pushed at the back of her head, as if the deeper her bite the more potent the venom, though he knew better.

𝕭𝖆𝖒! 𝕭𝖆𝖒!

"Turn that racket down! And get out of my parking lot!" shouted the furious voice of Kiki's Diner's manager.

Moon removed her fangs from Eddie's neck, her hands holding onto his shoulders as she glared at the shades covering the windows. A low displeased sound rumbling in her throat. "Moon," Eddie warned in a lull, thought he couldn't fight the amusement in his tone from the irritation in her eyes.

"No," he said.

Moon rolled her eyes and lay down, curling into a ball. "You gave her money and ate her food." She sulked. "It's a little music, ugly weeded shrew." she whispered.

"Sorry about that!" Eddie called, taking a seat behind the wheel and fluffing his hair around his neck to hide any remaining blood trickle. He tried to flash the woman a smile. "You might be my best costumer, but at this rate you'll run potential customers away with that horrible noise." She said.

Eddie held back a scowl. "Noise?" he thought with a mental roll of his eyes.

"Right, well. We're gone." Eddie said, starting the van and pulling out of the parking lot.

Moon gave her red-stained lips a satisfied lick. The air of the van seem to change as her mood was lifted. "Feeling better?" Eddie asked her. "A little," she sang.

Eddie frowned, that used to be more than enough to keep her going for a few days. "I guess they're just like everything else, when you get older you need more to keep going." he thought. Eddie heaved a sigh, the thought that one day he alone couldn't help manage Moon's need for blood was a worrying one.

The last thing he needed as another frenzy.

"Hey Moon?" He called to her.

"Yes, teddy bear?" she hummed.

Eddie's eyes focused on the road ahead of him, he couldn't believe he was going to form his next choice of words from his own mouth. "Tomorrow after the game," he sighed, pausing. Moon's ears perked up as she tilted her head to look up from her place on the floor. She knew that sound of hesitation.

"Sacrament?" she asked.

Eddie nodded, "yeah." He exhaled.

"You're sure? Last time you-"

Eddie nodded his head, "I'm sure. We're running out of options. You can go longer if the bond is maintained, right?" He reasoned. "Jeff can't help anymore." Eddie whispered. Moon frowned slightly, looking off to the side, "I said I was sorry for that." she murmured.

"You nearly ripped his jugular out." Eddie said.

"I was not myself. If you'd have let me, I could have made him forget." Moon snapped.

"As awesome as that trick is," Eddie said with a shrug, "You both needed to remember. It can always happen again, to anyone." He said.

"Well, I was feeling better." Moon muttered, rolling over and closing her eyes.

"Sorry, princess." Eddie sighed.

The following day, at the lunch table Gareth, Jeff and David sat at the usual spot, excited discussing the game that night and practice at Davids house the next day.

Eddie's eyes crinkled as he laughed at his friend's excitement over the game, trying to pry details about what was in store for their party this time. But as usual, "My lips are sealed," Eddie sang. From across the lunchroom, Eddie could spot Steve Harrington, nestled near the basketball team, or at least half of the team.

A fairly strained dynamic had taken hold of the Hawkins' Tigers recently, mostly due to the strained relationship between the top two players. Jeff watched Eddie's gaze on Steve and sighed. "You're going to start a fight glaring like that." Jeff warned Eddie.

With a scowl, Eddie lowered his gaze to his lunch and popped a baby carrot into his mouth, his hand reaching to rest on the still healing bites on his neck. "You know how she is, her fascinations don't last long, and what are the odds she'll see him again?" Jeff whispered.

The two made sure Gareth and David were busy talking, for the only two in their circle who knew of Moon were themselves.

"Yeah, you're right. But can you imagine the kind of hell that would rain on us if Harrington up and went missing?" Eddie whispered back.

From across the room Steve sat with a few of the younger team members, Chance and Patrick along with Jason Carver who was a year behind Steve. The boys talked casually, Steve's eyes constantly finding Nancy across the room, where she sat with Johnathan. It hurt a lot less, but the smile she kept on her face while around him was captivating.

"Well, if it isn't Queen Steve," Billy's voice snickered from behind Steve. Steve cringed at the sound, "What do you want, Hargrove?" He asked. Jason's eyes darted between his two teammates, playing peacekeeper often became tiresome.

Steve sighed through his nose and continued to eat his lunch, "Don't let him get under your skin." He thought. "Tommy says he saw you down at that prissy pink palace." Billy said with a smirk. He eyed Steve up and down while popping his bubble gum. "They have cute little baby blue polka dot aprons, don't they?" asked Billy.

"They also pay really well, and yeah, I'm hired." Steve said. "Some of us are secure enough to rock aprons, polka dots or otherwise." 

"What are you trying to say?" Billy growled, "Maybe don't come at me with your own worries just because your old man is a bigot who thinks you're an s-"

"Alright, guys, that's enough." Jason jumped in. He gave Billy a warning glance and Steve exhaled, "right, you're right. My bad." he said.

David shook his head, "those two meat heads are always at each other's throats." He said. Eddie watched the jocks head their separate ways, "great." He thought, looking to Jeff. "The hair's going to be working a Kiki's? I'm never going to talk Moon out of going there. There aren't many places she can go." Eddie's thoughts muted the conversation of his friends around him.

Moon sat outside the door to her bunker and looked up at the sky from beneath her umbrella. Having fed, the sunlight was harder to tolerate, her eyes ached, and her skin itched like an ivy rash. But Moon always did love the color of the morning skies. 

Sunrises, how brilliant and glowing the blue looked in the middle of the afternoon, watching it fade into an explosion of color as day gave way to night. Not that she didn't love the night, which held the object of her new namesake.

Quietly fashioning a crown out of dead leaves, twigs and bush stems, Moon hummed to herself along with the song on the old Walkman Jeff left her.

"You should be sleeping." she told herself, as it was day was her night. Though ever since she'd taken ill she'd struggled with the concept of "sleep during the day" after all she'd spent the first thirteen years of her life rising at daylight.

"I'm tired of floundering about this business of vampirism, if that's what it is at all." Moon thought, a frown falling down her face. "It's almost nothing like the books Eddie and Jeff bring me."

It didn't take long for even watching the sky to grow boring. Moon retreated back into her bunker. Laying on her mattress full of pillows and books, she quietly gnawed at the bones of a little bird, sucking out the fresh marrow and licking the blood away from her fingers.

In her palm a handful of tiny red hearts, Moon got up from her bed and wandered over to a wooden faced mini fridge it was well over ten years old, Eddie and Jeff managed to buy it off a neighbor at a yard sale. It had become Moon's best friend at times. Housing her survival snacks. Snacks like her bird hearts.

Moon placed the handful of hearts into a baggy and then into the fridge. She looked around her little bunker and as the silence settled in, the loneliness took hold.

"I could never tell him," She thought looking down at her hands still mildly stained red, "But I miss life outside." she murmured. Feeling low, Moon crawled back into bed. 

Sleep was starting to sound nicer by the minute. Reaching out she grabbed one of Eddie's shirts he'd left behind and tucked it under her head, they always smelled like cheap hairspray and ganja but in times like these it was comforting.

Moon closed her eyes and waited to drift off, but in doing so a face came to mind, one that reminded her of Chrysanthemums.

"We don't like Steve." she reminded herself. It would be often that Eddie would return from school complaining about the guy. Though, she often had to wonder what exactly did he do?

ᴘʀᴇᴠɪᴏᴜꜱ | ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ/ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ | ɴᴇxᴛ

#protective eddie munson #soft eddie munson #soft steve harrington #protective steve harrington #steve harrington x fem!oc #eddie munson x fem!oc #stranger things fluff #stranger things smut #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fluff #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington smut #eddie munson angst #minors dni #18+ minors dni #Jeff's sister stranger things

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

A/N: Writing this mostly for me as a comfort since my dog just died, but I'm letting you guys enjoy it as well. It is mostly just a love letter to Steddie and miscommunications. You're going to see a little bit of my weirdness in this. Also, a little bit of a love letter to Trans people, too. I love trans!Eddie.

Leah Henderson stood in the mirror as she stared at her reflection. It was strange how she loved the way she looked, but at the same time, she's always doubted that anyone but her would ever find this attractive. She was wider than she was tall with boobs bigger than. . . Well, actually, she didn't think there was anything bigger than her boobs. Boobs. Boobs. Boobs! Leah giggled. What a funny word. She twirled around, her skirt flaring out and grabbed her boobs in her hands. Gah! Why were they so goddamn big? She flipped her curly auburn hair over her chest and boinged one of her curls before putting it over her lip like she had a mustache. Leah nearly screamed when there came a knock on her bedroom door.

"Leah?" Her brother's voice floated through the door. "You've been in there for a while. Are you sad because you knocked something over with your boobs again?"

Leah sighed but smiled fondly anyway. Dustin could be a nosy pain in the ass but he meant well. She opened the door, being reminded again that she was the same height as her much younger brother when they came face to face.

"No, butthead, that's not it," Leah said and pouted. "I miss Steve and Eddie. I kind of wish I went with them."

"Look, I miss them too, but we hang out with them enough as it is, especially you," Dustin said.

"What's that supposed to mean?" She asked with a scowl. "Aren't you the one who's always up their asses?"

"And you're the one who always interrupts their date night," Dustin said.

"I do not! They just started dating! They don't have an official date night yet!" Leah said. "They're the ones inviting me to hangout!"

"Leah, why do you think they went away on vacation? If you were there, you'd just make things worse for them and for yourself," Dustin said.

"You mean like I always do, apparently? They were so goddamn tired of me that they had to run away to fucking California to get away from like Joyce did, their own personal monster from the Upside Down?!" Leah exclaimed, tears in her eyes.

"Leah, that's not what I meant!"

Leah slammed the door in his face, locked it, and threw herself on her bed as she broke down in tears. Maybe Dustin was right. Maybe she always makes things worse. It's why Steve and Eddie left. It's why their father had left. It was all her fault. She ignored the knocking on her door and proceeded to cry into her pillow until she fell asleep. She continued to ignore Dustin for several days, and even on the day that Steve was supposed to return with Eddie. She had spent days agonizing in her room over it. She did spend too much time with Steve and Eddie, hoping for something that clearly would never happen. She decided to change that. She was almost out the door to leave for her date when Dustin stopped her.

"I'm so sorry, you know that's not what I meant. I was just trying to give Eddie and Steve the privacy that they deserve after all of the attention Eddie got," Dustin said, his lip quivering.

"I know, Dusty, I know you didn't mean it," Leah said with a sigh. "Look, we'll talk later. My date is waiting for me. I just need to move on. Just move forward from Steve and Eddie. They do deserve privacy."

"Why are you making it sound like they're your ex? Or maybe you're in love with them," Dustin chuckled, and Leah bit her lip as his face fell in realization. "Holy shit. You're in love with them."

Suddenly, the door burst open. Eddie strolled in with open arms, a wide grin on his face.

"We probably should have gone straight home first, but we wanted to stop by and see our favorite Hendersons. . . Well, don't everyone come running to greet us all at once," Eddie said. "What's going on here?"

Leah rolled her eyes and brushed by Steve as he was coming in.

"Jesus, what's her problem?" Steve asked.

"Who's that guy, and why is she getting into his car?" Eddie scowled, his face pressed right up against the window.

"That's her date," Dustin replied.

"Her what?" Steve and Eddie asked as they watched her drive off.

Steve whirled around, shutting the door, and placed his hands on his hips.

"Why was your sister so upset?" He asked, and Dustin winced.

"It's kind of my fault," he replied.

"What did you do, you little shit?" Eddie asked as he turned on him.

"It wasn't what I was implying at all, but it kind of sounded like I was implying that you ran away to California to get away from her but really it was the assholes in this town. And I might have said that it would only make things worse if she were there, but only like as a third wheel scenario. Those situations suck!" Dustin exclaimed.

Eddie shrieked, took off Dustin's hat, and began hitting him with it.

"It's the complete opposite, you asshole!" Eddie exclaimed.

"Stop! Stop!" Dustin yelled, and finally Eddie gave him back his hat.

"We're completely in love with her, but we thought it would freak her out if we asked her to join our relationship," Steve sighed.

"Oh shit! Oh. Shit, I fucked up big this time!" Dustin exclaimed.

"You sure did," Eddie glared.

"Look, she's going on a date with another guy thinking that you two want to be as far from her as possible, but the truth is that you two love her and she loves the both of you! I made her think that it was the worst thing in the world, but I swear, I didn't mean to hurt her," Dustin cried.

"We know you didn't, buddy," Steve said. "You need to calm down and tell us where they're going."

"She didn't say," Dustin said meekly.

"Okay. So, we either look all over town or we wait here," Eddie said as he paced the living room.

"There is a third option," Dustin said.

"Which is?" Steve asked.

"Call El and have her look for Leah," Dustin said.

"Nope! Not only would that be a violation of her privacy, but it would also be using El's powers for our own personal gain. Not very wise," Eddie sighed. "As much as I don't like it, we're just going to have to see what she decides when the date is over."

"And if she falls head over heels for this guy?" Steve asked.

Eddie sighed and placed his hands on Steve’s hips.

"There's no way she'd choose some stranger over Steve Harrington," Eddie replied. "No fucking way."

Leah sobbed as she walked home, shoes in hand. She should have known it was too good to be true. He was so nice to her, so understanding. He had been the first guy she had liked since Steve and Eddie, but she should have known that he didn't really want her. She prayed for rain to wash it all away, but it was a clear night, not a dark cloud in the sky. When she got home, her mother's car wasn't there reminding her that she was working the night shift. Eddie's van was still there, which meant Steve and Eddie were still there. Leah cursed her rotten luck. She couldn't let them see her like this, and she also couldn't go into the house like this either. She walked around the back of the house towards the garden hose, wincing when she bumped into the patio table. Leah wiggled out of her dress. She turned on the water and started spraying down the piece of clothing that was soaked in pigs' blood. Suddenly, the back door flew open, and Steve came out wielding a bat while Eddie held out a chair.

"Leah?!" Eddie and Steve yelled, immediately dropping their weapons.

"What the fuck happened to you?" Eddie asked.

"Okay, so, this looks bad," Leah said. "But this is isn't my blood."

"I don't think that makes us feel any better!" Steve exclaimed.

"Well, she's not hurt," Eddie said.

"It's pigs' blood," Leah said, rolling her eyes as she wrung out her dress. "Yeah, I think this is ruined. Probably my underwear, too. Can you guys fetch me my robe?"

Eddie and Steve sighed before sharing an angry look with each other.

"Carrie," they said together.

"Was it your date who did this?" Eddie asked.

"Yeah, turns out the whole thing was a joke," Leah laughed darkly.

"Name. What's his name?" Steve asked.

"It's - I'm not going to tell you," she replied and sighed. "It was just a prank. Can someone please fetch me a towel and a robe?"

"It was assault!" Steve exclaimed.

"Look, I just want to rinse myself off so I don't drip all of this blood all over the house, go inside, take a shower, crawl into bed, and have a good fucking cry! Okay?!" Leah snapped.

"Of course, baby," Eddie said softly. "I'll go get you those things."

Leah rolled her eyes and started taking off the rest of her clothes. She sprayed herself down and flipped her hair over to get that, too. Steve quickly turned around. When Eddie came back, he quickly yelped and put his hands over his eyes.

"Do I look that ugly naked?" Leah asked.

"No!" Steve and Eddie exclaimed.

"I want to bite your thighs," Eddie blurted out.

Leah blushed, having witnessed Eddie in action biting the things that he liked.

"Yeah, okay," Leah said awkwardly, unsure of what to do with that information. "Towel?"

Eddie blindly started to walk over to her. Leah sighed before walking over to him and slapped his hand away from his eyes. He yelped but handed her the towel. She dried herself off, and once she was finished, she handed Steve the towel. Leah turned around to find Eddie holding the robe open for her. She turned around and put her arms through. She felt Eddie's arm wrap around her waist, his fingers brushing against the skin of her belly, and he closed the robe before tying it off. He pulled her closed her hugged her tightly, brushing his lips against her ear.

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart. They're going to burn in hell for what they did," Eddie whispered.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"I'll dispose of your clothes," Steve said, kissing her cheek.

"Thank you," Leah said.

Eddie wrapped an arm around her and led her inside. Dustin caused them both to yell when he jumped out at them. He was holding out Tews. Leah held a hand to her chest, glaring at her brother.

"You know very well, Dusty, that Tews is NOT an attack cat," Leah replied.

"What happened?" Dustin asked.

"Ask Steve when he comes back inside," she said. "I'm going to go take a shower."

Eddie followed her to her bedroom, where she started pulling out a large black and yellow night shirt. Just then, they both heard the sound of Steve explaining what happened to Dustin.

"THAT SON OF A BITCH!" Dustin yelled.

"Where the hell are you going?!" Steve asked.

"TO COMMIT MURDER! HE WANTS TO SEE BLOOD?! I'LL SHOW HIM BLOOD!" Dustin yelled.

"I guess you don't want hot chocolate then, Conan," Steve said sarcastically.

"With the little marshmallows, please," Dustin said.

Leah bent over laughing as Eddie did the same. She walked into her ensuite bathroom before popping her head back out again.

"Could you come with me?" She asked Eddie.

"Into the bathroom or into the shower?" Eddie asked.

"Whatever you want to do," she shrugged.

Eddie followed her into the restroom and watched as she took off her robe before hopping into the shower. He stood outside the shower awkwardly for a moment, trying to decide what to do before he heard her sniffling. Eddie immediately stripped down and stepped into the shower. He turned her around and pulled her into her arms, cradling her against his chest. She cried for a while as he held her before she pulled back and looked at the scars on his chest.

"Do you miss them sometimes?" She asked.

"My breasts? Nope, not at all," Eddie grinned. "Why are you asking?"

"I don't know because sometimes I hate mine," she replied.

"May I?" He asked, motioning towards her breasts.

"Yeah."

He cupped them gently, holding them up.

"When you hold them, do they feel like yours?" Eddie asked.

"As mad as I get at them, I also love them, so yeah, they feel like mine," Leah replied.

"Whenever I held mine, they never felt like mine. I didn't hate them. It just felt like they didn't belong there, you know," Eddie said.

"Maybe they're somewhere out there helping a woman who's in a similar situation," Leah said.

"That's a nice thought," Eddie grinned softly. "I fucking hope so."

"After you told me and Steve, I kind of questioned myself for a while. I still am, and while I don't believe I'm like you, it's nice to question it, to not feel like you're just one thing, and maybe I'm not. There's just this fluidity to it, I guess, and when I look at you, I question myself, but in a very good way. I think it's so beautiful, and so are you," Leah said. "I'm really glad you're a part of my life, and I really hope that I didn't scare you and Steve off."

"You didn't, sweetheart, you could never," Eddie replied.

He leaned his forehead against hers and let the water wash over them, the conversation with it. Suddenly, Eddie leaned back again to look at her.

"You broke a glass with your boobs again, didn't you?" He asked.

"Eddie!" She snapped before sighing. "Yes."

Once they got out of the shower, they dressed and wrapped their hair up into a towel. Eddie winked and hip checked her on the way out of the bathroom. Steve was coming in with a tray of snacks and drinks as they were leaving the bathroom.

"I made hot chocolate and popcorn. I also got you those big marshmallows that you like," Steve said, placing them on the nightstand. "I grabbed some pretzels, too."

"Thanks, Stevie," Leah said.

"Do you want us to stay?" Steve asked.

"Do you want to go?" She asked.

"We always want you around, I just thought you knew that," Steve said, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Yeah?" She asked, biting her lip.

Eddie plopped onto the bed and pulled her in between his legs.

"What our boy here is trying to say. . .do you want to be our girlfriend?" Eddie asked.

"You both want me?" She asked and he yanked her fully in to his lap.

"Hell yes," Eddie said.

Steve sat down on his other side, resting his head on Eddie's shoulder. Leah smiled when Steve pouted and widened his eyes.

"Please?"

"You don't have to beg. . . Unless you want to," Leah laughed. "Yes, I'll be your girlfriend."

Leah cupped Steve’s chin and gave him a kiss. She smiled as she leaned back, her eyes twinkling mischievously.

"Excuse me? Don't I get a kiss? I'm the one who asked?" Eddie asked.

"Hmm. . . Let me think about it. . . ," Leah giggled.

Eddie growled and pushed her back onto the bed as he began tickling her sides.

"You little minx," Eddie said and moved to kiss her but caught her cheek instead. "Leah!"

Leah giggled before pulling Eddie into a hard kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck. He broke the kiss and brushed her nose with his while Steve collapsed on her other side.

"I like your shirt. You look like a cute bumblebee," Steve said and kissed her cheek.

"It's new. I got it because it reminded me of you and Steve," she blushed.

"Do you hear that, Eddie? We have our own shirt," Steve said, his eyes lighting up.

"I heard," Eddie said, his own eyes twinkling.

"I love you both," Leah said fondly.

"I know," Eddie said seriously.

"Eddie Munson! You did not just Han Solo Me!" Leah gasped and pushed him off the back. "Take it back and tell me you love me!"

"I did tell you, baby," Eddie cackled from the floor.

"I love you!" She said furiously as she looked over the side of the bed.

"I know!"

"Eddie! Damn it!"

Leah grabbed her pillow and began hitting Eddie with it.

"You know, he did the same damn thing with me!" Steve exclaimed as he looked over the side with her. "Eddie, if you don't be honest with her, she's the only one who will ever get to see my bare ass!"

"I'll be good!" Eddie said, sitting up and cupping her face. "Sweetheart, you make everything so much better. You make us better, and we are so maddenly in love with you. . . I love you."

Leah smiled and cupped his face right back. She leaned forward like she was going to kiss him but paused right before his lips.

"I know," she whispered and Eddie pouted.

"I love you!" Steve laughed.

"You know, our hot chocolate is going to become cold chocolate," Eddie said, rolling his eyes.

So, now here they were, sitting on her bed drinking cocoa and tossing marshmallows into Eddie's mouth.

"I have to ask. When did you realize that you loved both of us?" Steve asked.

"Oh, that's easy," she said softly. "When my dog died a few months ago, and you guys never left my side. I don't think that I would have gotten through it without you. You only made it better."

"I came late into her life, but Shadow was a great dog," Eddie said fondly.

"We're never leaving your side again. . .I mean, within reason," Steve said.

"We have to go to the bathroom at some point," Eddie said, and Leah giggled.

And later that night, she fell asleep between the two men that she loved, her heart lighter than air and feeling like she could whatever horrors the world threw at her with them by her side.

#stranger things #eddie munson #stranger things s4 #joseph quinn #eddie stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson lives #steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #stranger things original character #steddie x oc #steddie x henderson!sister #henderson!sister #eddie munson x henderson!sister #steve harrington x henderson!sister #dustin henderson #henderdads #henderfam #trans!eddie munson #stranger things fanfiction #rueleigh writes

[skyfallslayer]

Should We Stay or Should We Go? || Chapter One

-A ST Rewrite Feat. Steve Harrington x Henderson!OFC-

Main Masterlist || Series Masterlist

🎲Summary: On the night of November 6th, 1983, Stephanie Henderson decided to walk her little brother’s friend, Will, back home. However… they never arrive. Now, Dustin, Mike and Lucas, and soon the exception of the girl’s ex-best friend, Steve, must band together to find out what happened. Meanwhile, Steph and Will must fight for their survival in this nightmarish version of Hawkins, Indiana.

🎲Chapter Summary: On his way home from a friend’s house, young Will and his best friend’s sister, Stephanie, sees something terrifying. Nearby, their loved ones start worrying hysterically, all while Steve hears some unsettling news.

🎲Pairings: Will x Platonic!OFC; Dustin x Sister!OC; Slow burn! Steve x Henderson!OFC (Ex-bestfriends to Lovers); Slow burn! Byler

🎲Rating: Teen-Mature

🎲Word Count: 9,471

🎲Date: 3/12

🎲Warnings: Angst; Swearing; Implied Broken Friendship; Racist Comment; Talks of Kidnapping; Car Crash; Mental Strain/Breaking Down; Implying to Sex; Lying; Suicide Comment; Homophobic Comment/Calling A Person A Derogatory Word; Implied Death; Steve's 'Asshole Era. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!

(And let me know if I missed anything)

🎲A/N: Here we go folks. The official rewrite of episode one. Can't say it's perfect, might be a little messy, but think of it as it setting the whole plot up. Anyway, stay safe, and enjoy!

“It was a seven.” The words fell from his lips that would predestine this night. On the chilly night of November 6th, 1983, the small group of friends had gotten together to play their weekly game of DnD that was cut long short for being on a school night. Two of the boys had rode off on their bikes, away from the host’s house as the young brunette told his friend the truth.

The boy of the house, Mike Wheeler, turned his head, confusion on his face. “Huh?”

“The roll, it was a seven.” The brunette, Will Byers, replies, a frown on his face. “The Demogorgon, it got me.” He kicks the stand off and starts riding. “See you tomorrow.”

As his words lingered in the air, the garage lights flickered on and off that was forgotten with a shrug. 

Young Will catches up quickly with the other boys, Lucas Sinclair and Dustin Henderson. The wind in their eyes and smiles on their faces, they continued to ride for many blocks, slowly coming unwind.

“Good night, ladies.” Lucas teased as he broke from the group for his driveway.

“Kiss your mom ‘night for me.” Dustin quips back, before facing the other boy. “Race you back to my place? Winner gets whatever my sister brings home this time.”

Will’s eyes light up from that. “Really?”

“Yeah.” Dustin says, not expecting for his opponent to take off immediately. 

“Hey! Hey! I didn’t say ‘go’! Get back here!” But as he says that, he knows there was no stopping his friend. “I’m gonna kill you!”

Will chuckled and shouted, “Bring it to school tomorrow!”

Dustin hits the breaks, out of breath and frustrated as he replies, “Son of a bitch…” Meanwhile, his friend pretended he didn’t hear that as he rode down the street they dubbed ‘Mirkwood’.

Yes, he lived the farthest away from… anything really; His friends’ houses, his school, the nearby strip mall, pretty much everything that was ‘useful’, But he didn’t mind it. As long as his family was happy with their place he could go along with it.

So Will continued to ride, in his own head that was causing him to ignore when his headlight flickered off and on until his bike chain magically came apart. 

The boy gasped and swerved in a jagged line, worriedness on his features as he used his feet to forcefully come to a complete halt. Stopping along the side of the road, he looked down, trying to figure out what the problem was. While doing so, he didn’t even notice a car had slowed and rolled its window down.

“Will?” The person in the vehicle said, catching him by surprise. 

He was met with a familiar face, the fair skin, freckled nose, and dark curls tied back in a small pony was a girl he practically grew up with. Ironically, she was the older sister of the boy he raced, Stephanie Henderson.

“Steph?” He said, still shocked as he watched her get out. Those bright blue eyes of hers trailed to his only transportation and frowned.

“What happened to your bike?” 

“Uh, chain broke. I think.” Will says, looking at it again, and then back at her. “You’re coming home late.”

“You’ll understand when you have a job and a crappy boss.” She smiles, softly. “Come on. Put your bike in the car and I’ll drive you.”

“What?” He looks at her in disbelief. “Are you sure? You came that direction.”

“You know I don’t mind. Besides, it’s quicker and safer than walking. Plus I’m sure your brother and mother would appreciate it.” She says, opening the back door.

“But what about your mom?”

“I called her already and told her that I’ll be a little late.” She gestures to the car. “Come on.” He smiles and puts the bike in before hopping in the passenger seat. She even spoils him by handing him a paper brown bag. “Cinnamon bun?”

His eyes light up. “Actually, Dustin betted me that if I beat him in a race back to his house I can have whatever you bring.”

“Then I guess they’re all yours.” She turns the car around. “So how was your campaign?”

“It was good until the end.” He takes a bite of the pastry. “I ended up getting beaten by the Demogorgon.”

“Remind me what that is again?”

“He’s a two headed demon prince. Very evil.”

“I see.”

Another bite and a small hum. “You should try playing it.”

She raises an eyebrow. “You think?”

“Yeah, it’ll be fun!” Now he was like a kid in a candy store. “You can be… our mage! A druid, or maybe even a ranger.”

She chuckles quietly. “I… have no idea what any of that even means. But uh… I’ll give it a shot. What’s the worst that can happen? I hate it?”

“Or you get eaten by a Demogorgon.”

“That’s true.” Steph agreed, and continued their light conversation until something strange started to happen. She watches as her headlights suddenly start to flicker. “What the?”

“Look out!” Will yelled, and her eyes snapped back up just in time to spot the bizarre looking figure in the road. 

She gasps and veers off the road, foot slamming into the brakes as it rolled down and down into the woods, crashing into a tree. Now, it wasn’t that bad of a hit, more like a little thump, but still. A crash is a crash.

Stephanie lets out a pant, tiling her baseball cap back up to look worriedly towards her passenger. “Shit! You okay?”

“Uh…” He nods, a little shaken up, but looking unharmed. “Yeah. I’m good.”

Another pant and she looks around. “Who that fuck was that?!” She snaps, upset. “Who the fuck stands in the middle of the road at nine o’clock at night?!”

But as she was having her meltdown, Will was staring at the side mirror and paled. “Steph?” He says, terrified.

“What?”

“I think he’s coming.”

“What?” She followed his eyes to the mirror before turning around. Standing behind them a few feet away was the figure who made her heart sink at its unnaturally long arms, and fingers coming at a point. Now she starts pales. “That’s not a person.”

“Huh?”

She starts fiddling with the door. “Get out of– Get out of the car, now!”

Once they were both out, she snags him by the wrist and pulls him along, running as fast as they could, a few miles down, all the way back to what their destination was. As soon as they stepped a foot inside the Byers home, the family’s dog, Chester, started barking defensively as she told the boy to lock the door.

“Mom? Jonathan? Mom?!” He replies after finishing the task, but alas it seems like they were the only ones home.

“Ms. Byers?!” Steph yells out, biting her lip. “Shit.” She runs for the phone as he looks out a window and sees the figure approaching the house. She tries dialing 911, but all she receives on the other end is static. “What the fuck?!”

“It’s unlocking the chain!” Will yells, backing away as she takes a look. Sure enough, they watched the chain on the door slide itself across the track as the other locks started to turn (What in the fresh hell is going on?!).

“Come on!” She pulls him away, thinking the only thing they can do is protect themselves now. 

They both run into the shed in the back, Will remembering what his mother had told him if something to this degree started happening, and begins loading the shotgun on the wall. 

“Is that all you got?” She asked, searching around for anything else she could use.

“Y-Yeah.” He mutters, and frantically points the weapon at the door, trembling as the girl stood behind him, hands over his and shielding his body protectively.

“If that thing comes in, shoot it. I’ll hold you steady so you don’t fall back.” She says, and he nods (His body subconsciously pressing into hers out of fear and comfort).

But the next few moments were tedtious, hearing that thing growling, which got louder and louder, until it sounded like it was right next to them. Steph, who felt the wind get knocked out of her, was the first to turn around, eyes widened as she kept the boy behind her, feeling him clench her jacket. 

“What the fuck are you?!” She screamed, the growling turning into screeching. 

Then the light in the shed gets brighter and brighter– Until everything suddenly stops.

Then…

.

.

.

There was no one left.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

As soon as the sun touched his face, the boy reached over and shut his alarm clock off before it could even ring. Groaning and stretching, he was feeling extremely exhausted after being up so late (But last night was so fun, it was totally worth it!). Grinning a toothless grin, Dustin rolled out of bed, his clothes in hand as he strolls to the end of the hall for the bathroom. However–

He lets out a sigh and throws his head back at the door being closed. “Oh, my god. Phanie! I told you I needed to use the bathroom first on school days.” Seriously, how many times has he told his sister this? He doesn’t get a reply, and bangs on the door. “Phanie!! Are you listening?”

And on the last knock, to his surprise, the door creaked open. Being cautious, he poked his head inside finding the light was off and the room was unoccupied. 

“Huh.” He said, looking around again. “Okay…” He quickly gets ready for the day, fixing his curls so his hat stays on, before adventuring back out. “Goodbye, sleepyhead!”

And once again, Dustin was shocked to find that now his sister’s room was unoccupied as well. The only thing present was their cat, Mews, who was curled up in a ball on the still perfectly made bed… with everything on it still looking the same in place.

What the? He thought, before heading for the kitchen where his mother was listening to the news.

// -And that’s it for News Center this morning. Thanks for joining us. Let’s hand off now to Liz at the news desk //

// All right, thank you, Donna. Turning now to local news, we’re getting reports of surges and power outages all across the county. Last night, hundreds of homes in East Hawkins were affected, leaving many residents in the dark. The cause of the outage is still unknown. We reached out to Roane County Water and Electric, and a spokesperson says that they are confident power will be restored to all remaining homes within the next– //

“Hey, mom, have you seen Stephanie?” He asked, ignoring the fact his mother was making him his favorite breakfast meal.

“Stephanie?” His mother, Claudia, asked as she slid him a plate. “No, I haven’t.”

“She’s not in her room.” He replies, taking a seat, thinking. “Did you see her come home last night?”

“Well, she did call me saying that she was going to be late, but I’ll admit, I dozed off before I heard her come in.” She notices her son’s worried expression, and smiles. “Oh, don’t worry, Dusty-buns. I’m sure she had to just pick up a friend for school. I can drive you.”

“No, I can bike, I just…” He trails off, not really hungry anymore. We always eat together.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Meanwhile, in another household. Joyce Byers was rummaging around her living room for her keys, cursing under her breath after every failed attempt.

“Where the hell are they?” She sighs. “Jonathan?”

“Check the couch!” Her oldest child said from the kitchen.

“Ugh, I did.” She moves the cushions around again, finally spotting them. “Oh, got them.” She smiles and comes over to give him a pat on the shoulder. “Okay, sweetie, I will see you tonight.”

“Yeah, see you later.” He says, finishing up the eggs.

“Where’s Will?”

“Oh, I didn’t get him up yet. He’s probably still sleeping.”

Joyce sighs, already leaving the room. “Jonathan, you have to make sure he’s up!”

“Mom, I’m making breakfast.”

“I told you this a thousand times. Will!” She claps her hands. “Come on, honey. It’s time to get up.” She pushes open his door only to find that his bed was empty. “He came home last night, right?”

Jonathan’s heart sank as he faced his mother. “He’s not in his room?

“Did he come home or not?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

“No. I-I got home late. I was working.”

She gives her son ‘the look’. “You were working?”

“Eric asked if I could cover. I said yeah. I just thought we could use the extra cash.”

“Jonathan, we’ve talked about this.”

He frowns, looking away. “I know…”

“You can’t take shifts when I’m working.” She says, wheels turning in her head at where he could be.

“Mom, it’s not a big deal.” He makes eye contact again. “Look, he was at the Wheelers’ all day. I’m sure he just stayed over.”

“I can’t believe you.” She says, already grabbing the phone. “I can’t believe you sometimes.” She starts dialing the phone number she knows by heart and waits.

[ ‘Hello?’ ]

“Hi, Karen. It’s Joyce.”

[ ‘Oh, Joyce, hi.’ ]

Before Joyce could ask, she hears a ruckus in the background.

[ ‘Quiet!’ ]

“Was that Will I heard back there?” She asked, hopefully.

[ ‘Will? No, no, no, it’s just Mike.’ ]

“Will didn’t spend the night?”

[ ‘No, he left here a little bit after 8:00. Why? He’s not home?’] 

Joyce tries to keep the panic off her face as she replies, “Um, you know what? I think he just left early for... for school. Thank you so much.”

[ ‘Okay.’ ]

“Bye.”

[ ‘Bye.’ ]

Joyce hangs up the phone, exchanging concerned glances with her eldest child.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Three out of the four boys rode to school that morning, chattering away about a certain person that’ll only end in sadness. Frowning as they slowed down to their usual bike rack that laid empty before them.

“That’s weird. I don’t see him.” Mike said, noticing the absent bike. Did he park somewhere else this time?

“I’m telling you, his mom’s right.” Lucas said, trying to be the reasonable one. “He probably just went to class early again. You know he’s always paranoid that Gursky’s gonna give him another pop quiz.”

“That’s true.”

“Yeah… pop quiz...” Dustin mumbled, being completely distant from the group. 

Lucas sighs, rolling his eyes. “Dude, you still worried about your sister?” 

“Well, yeah! I mean, why was she not home? We always eat breakfast with each other, how could she just skip out on it?”

“She’s sixteen, you know? You’re just overreacting. I’m sure Steph is fine.”

“I don’t man, this ain’t like her.”

“Dustin–”

“Step right up, ladies and gentlemen!” A bully, named Troy, announced as he came over with another boy. “Step right up and get your tickets for the freak show.” He smirks. “Who do you think would make more money in a freak show?” He pushes Lucas first. “Midnight–” Then Mike. “Frogface–” Then Dustin. “Or Toothless?”

The other bully, James, looks pensive for a moment before making his decision with a point. “I’d go with Toothless.”

Dustin’s cheeks flush out of embarrassment. “I told you a million times, my teeth are coming in. It’s called cleidocranial dysplasia.”

“‘I told you a million times’.” James mocks, and laughs. 

“Do the arm thing.” Troy pressures, as Dustin takes a small step back.

“Do it, freak!” Deciding to just comply, Dustin cracks his arms with his collar bone, making him and Troy groan and recoil. “God, it gets me every time.”

Then the two of them push through the boys as they leave for class; The trio sending them a death glare.

“Assholes.” Luca scoffed.

“I think it’s kinda cool.” Mike said, trying to cheer Dustin up. “It’s like you have superpowers or something. Like Mr. Fantastic.”

Dustin chuckles. “Yeah, except I can’t fight evil with it.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Meanwhile, in the high school next door, Mike’s older sister was hustling inside, books in hand, acting all flustered. It especially didn’t help when her friend came over, grinning like the Chester Cat.

“So, did he call? The ginger girl, Barb, asked all giggly.

The sister, Nancy, shushes her looking around. “Keep your voice down.”

She nudges her with her elbow. “Did he?”

“I told you, it’s not like that.” Nancy blushes harder when Barb gave her a look. “Okay, I mean, yes, he likes me, but not like that. We just made out a couple times.

Barb raises an eyebrow. “‘We just made out a couple times’. Nance, seriously, you’re gonna be so cool now, it’s ridiculous.”

“No, I’m not.” She shakes her head while unlocking her locker.

“You better still hang out with me, that’s all I’m saying. If you become friends with Tommy H. or Carol–”

“Oh, that’s gross!”

“I’m just saying, you better still be friends with me. I heard that the King pushed a close friend out of his circle when he took the throne and–”

“Okay, I’m telling you, it was a one-time... two-time thing.”

She opens her locker, finding a note that read: MEET ME IN BATHROOM -STEVE.

Barb’s expression grew. “You were saying?”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Before you know it, Nancy is having a make out session with the highschool’s King, Steve “The Hair” Harrington. The cocky bad boy that every girl fawns over, and the physic that every guy envies. If you wanted any kind of popularity while running around this place, you had to make a guarantee that he would be in your corner.

“Steve.” Nancy croaked in between kisses, making him hum. “I have to go.”

“In a minute.” He mumbled, nibbling at her neck as the school bell rings.

“Steve–” She nudged her way out from him. “I really, like seriously, I have to go.”

“Wait, wait, wait. Let’s…” He snags her bag, keeping her in place for a second. “Come on, let’s do something tonight, yeah?”

“No, I can’t. I have to study for Kaminsky’s test.”

“Oh, come on. What’s your GPA again? 3.999–”

“Kaminsky’s tests are impossible.”

“Well, then, just let me help.” He said, smirking.

She rolls her eyes with a smile. “You failed chem.”

“C-minus.”

“Well, in that case–”

“So I’ll be over around, say, like, 8:00?”

“Are you crazy?” Nancy shakes her head. “My mom would not–”

“I’ll climb through your window.” He insisted, all pumped up at the idea. “She won’t even know I’m there. I’m stealthy, like a ninja.”

“You are crazy.” She says, taking her bag back and starts leaving. 

“Wait, wait, wait. Just…” He steps in front of her. “Okay, forget about that. We can just– We can just, like, chill in my car. We can find a nice quiet place to park, and–”

“Steve, I have to study. I’m not kidding.”

“Well, why do you think I want it to be nice and quiet?”

That got her to crack another smile. “You’re an idiot, Steve Harrington.” She replies, stepping around him. “Meet me at Dearborn and Maple at 8:00. To study.”

The school bell rings again, leaving behind a very satisfied teen.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“Alright, class, I’ll be your sub for today.” The man explains, writing his name on the board. “I’m Mr. Dunwoody. If you have any questions, please refrain before I take attendance.” He ignores as some of the ‘cool kids’ snickered under their breaths and chuck paper balls around. “Uh, Barkley?”

“Here.”

“Brown?”

“Here.”

“Byers?” No reply. “Jonathan Byers?” He scopes the room, the seat in the back corner was absent. “No Byers. M’kay, uh, Davidson?”

“Present.”

“Evans?”

“Here.”

“Eubank?”

“Here.”

“Henderson.” No reply, he looks around – Yet another seat in the back unattended (And certain eyes following). “Henderson? Is a… Stephanie Henderson in?” His gaze shifts with the class’ and frowns. “No, okay. Uh, Harrington?” Silence. “Harrington?”

Steve blinks and faces forward, snapping out of his trace. “Uh, present.”

“‘Kay, uh–” He started shooting off more names, but the teenager wasn’t honestly listening. Something about that empty space (the space that seemed so far away now) didn’t sit right with him. And the gossiping in the background wasn’t helping his troubled mind either.

“Maybe grunge girl finally got the hint.” 

“Oh, yeah. For sure.” 

“Do you think the pressure made her drop out?”

“Drop out?” A laugh. “Maybe she took a dive off the overpass.”

“Guess we’ll have to check the news later for that!”

They laughed under their breaths and Steve’s hands started subconsciously squeezing his crossed arms. This shouldn’t bother him. It’s not like they’re–

He didn’t even realize he was turning around to say something if it was for Tommy’s hand snagging his shoulder. It, and he’s not sure if he can admit, hurt in a way he can’t describe. They both locked eyes, and Tommy shook his head ‘no’ just as the substitute finished calling out names, starting the soulless class.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

As usual the town’s head sheriff was strolling into his job late and looking like he’d been hit by truck after truck. His five o’clock shadow was strong and so were the bags under his eyes; Jim Hopper walks in with a lit cigarette in his hand, the receptionist amazed by his appearance.

“Good of you to show.” She said, as he passed by and gave a small nod to the other officers present.

“Oh, hey, morning, Flo. Morning, everybody.” He says, heading for the small kitchenette to pour himself some coffee.

“Hey, Chief.” Powell greeted with a grin.

“Damn! You look like hell, Chief.” Callahan replies, looking up from his game of cards.

“Oh, yeah?” Hopper spares him a look.

“Yeah.”

“Well, I looked better than your wife when I left her this morning.” His response made his brothers bust a gut as the elderly woman came over, trying to get his attention.

“While you were drinking or sleeping, or whatever it is you deemed so necessary on Monday morning, Phil Larson called. Said some kids are stealing the gnomes out of his garden again.” Flo explains, as he tries not to roll his eyes (or maybe he did?).

“Oh, those garden gnomes again.” He sighs, and picks up a donut too. “Well, I’ll tell you what, I’m gonna get right on that.”

Flo keeps a straight face, used to his antics by now. “On a more pressing matter, Joyce Byers can’t find her son this morning.”

He hums after taking a bite of the pastry. “Okay, I’m gonna get on that.” He starts walking away. “Just give me a minute.”

“Joyce is very upset.” She pushes, as he shakes his head.

“Well, Flo– Flo, we’ve discussed this. Mornings are for coffee and contemplation.”

“Chief, she’s already in your–”

“Coffee and contemplation, Flo!” He shouts as he leaves the room, and, due to not paying attention, is surprised to see Ms. Byers already waiting in his office. His jaw clenched. “Okay… Missing? I’ve been told.”

“Yes, missing!” Joyce says, watching him sit down and start typewriting a file out for her boy. Worriedly she waits for him to finish, even smoking bud after bud to calm the jitters. “I have been waiting here over an hour, Hopper.”

“And I apologize.” He says, trying to calm her.

“I’m going out of my mind!”

“Look, boy his age, he’s probably just playing hooky, okay?”

She shakes her head. “No, not my Will. He’s not like that– He wouldn’t do that.”

“Well, you never know.” He suggests, a little smirk growing on his lips. “I mean, my mom thought I was on the debate team, when really I was just screwing Chrissy Carpenter in the back of my dad’s Oldsmobile, so–”

“Look, he’s not like you, Hopper. He’s not like me. He’s not like most.” She explains, her face saddening. “He has a couple of friends, but, you know, the kids, they’re mean. They make fun of him. They call him names. They laugh at him, his clothes–”

“His clothes?” Hopper’s eyebrows shoot up. “What’s wrong with his clothes?”

“I don’t know. Does that matter?”

“Maybe.”

Joyce inhales deeply. “Look, he’s... He’s a sensitive kid. Lonnie…” God she could punch that man right now. “Lonnie used to say he was queer. Called him a fag.”

Another eyebrow raise. “Is he?”

“He’s missing! Is what he is.” 

“When was the last time you heard from Lonnie?”

“Uh, last I heard, he was in Indianapolis. That was about a year ago. But he has nothing to do with this.”

“Why don’t you give me his number?”

“You know, Hopper, he has nothing to do with this. Trust me.”

Hopper’s body straightens, hands coming to rest on his desk to make sure she was listening. “Joyce, 99 out of 100 times, kid goes missing, the kid is with a parent or relative.”

Her eyes widened. “What about the other time?”

He blinks. “What?”

“You said, ‘99 out of 100’. What about the other time, the one?”

“Joyce.”

“The one!”

Hopper tries to deescalate again. “Joyce, this is Hawkins, okay? You wanna know the worst thing that’s ever happened here in the four years I’ve been working here?” He could hold back a small smile. “Do you wanna know the worst thing? It was when an owl attacked Eleanor Gillespie’s head because it thought that her hair was a nest.”

Joyce sighs. “Okay, fine. I will call Lonnie. He will talk to me before he talks to–”

“What, a pig?”

“A cop! Just find my son, Hop. Find him!”

And then came a knock on the doorframe, which happened to be Flo who looked apologetic this time.

“Chief, I’m sorry, I have another hectic parent. A Ms. Claudia Henderson is here to see you.”

“What?” Hopper said, and just before he could blink, a blonde woman came stumbling in, all nervous just like someone else in present.

“Hopper, I’m sorry if you’re busy, but–”

“Claudia?” Joyce said, standing up with surprise. 

“Joyce?” Claudia’s face washes over with relief upon seeing her. “What brings you here?”

“It’s Will, I can’t find him.” She says, missing the way the other woman’s face lost all color. “And apparently he didn’t go to school either.”

“Well, what a coincidence. I can’t find my daughter, either.”

And then all eyes are now on the police Chief who was dumbfounded this was all happening at once. After a moment, he sighed and pulled Will’s form out of the typewriter before sliding in a new piece of paper.

“Alright.” He gestures to the chair. “Let’s hear your story.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

And then that’s how the police chief found himself at a middle school. His first “suspects” in this case was Will’s inner circle of friends. But what he wasn’t expecting while sitting in the principal’s office was the trio to be talking over one another frantically.

“Okay, okay, okay.” Hopper says, waving for them to stop which they did. “One at a time, all right?” He points to Mike. “You. You said he takes what?”

“Mirkwood.” Mike said, confusing him.

“Mirkwood?”

“Yeah.”

Hopper sighs, looking at his partner. “Have you ever heard of Mirkwood?”

“I have not.” Callahan shakes his head. “That sounds made up to me.”

“No, it’s from Lord of the Rings.” Lucas says, offended.

“Well, The Hobbit.” Dustin pushes as his friend rolls his eyes.

“Who cares?”

“He asked!”

“‘He asked’!” Lucas mocked which started their bickering again.

“Hey, hey, hey!” Hopper yells, getting to stop once more. “What’d I just say? One at a damn time.” He points to Mike again. “You.”

“Mirkwood, it’s a real road. It’s just the name that’s made up. It’s where Cornwallis and Kerley meet.” Mike explains, giving the Chief a picture now.

“Yeah, all right, I think I know that.”

“We can show you, if you want.” The boy replies, his friends agreeing with him immediately. 

Hopper shakes his head. “I said that I know it!”

“We can help look.” Mike pleads.

“Yeah.” Dustin encouraged.

“No.” The boys try to protest, but he shuts it down again. “No. After school, you are all to go home. Immediately. That means no biking around looking for your friend, no investigating, no nonsense. This isn’t some Lord of the Rings book.”

“The Hobbit.” Dustin mumbles, quietly.

“Shut up!” Lucas said, elbowing him.

“Hey!”

“Stop it!” Hopper snaps, while standing up. “Do I make myself clear?” He gets no answer. “Do I make myself clear?”

Mike nods. “Yes, sir.”

“Good.” He faces the principal. “Sir, thank you for your time.”

“Wait!” Dustin cuts in, and makes the man groan.

“What?”

“What about my sister? You mentioned her earlier. What about her?”

“Kid, listen, your sister’s sixteen, and to be honest, I believe a teenager playing hooky more than your friend Will. Okay?” Hopper tried to leave again, but the kid wasn’t letting up.

“But Stephanie’s not like that! I mean, yeah, she doesn’t necessarily like school, but she always studies hard to get good grades. She’s a good noodle.” Dustin frowns worriedly. “Trust me, she would never skip school. I mean… did you even check the parking lot to see if her car was there? Or the mall that she works at?”

I guess… the kid did have a point, Hopper will admit that one. He locks eyes with his partner who shrugs.

“I mean, we might as well kill two birds with one stone while we’re here.” Callahan says, truthfully.

“Yeah, you’re right.” Hopper sighs. “Okay. So Dustin, did your sister have any… friends we could talk to?” Then they got quiet, looking amongst themselves. “What? No? She didn’t? Or–?”

“Well, not really.” Dustin admits, bittersweet. “I mean, she probably hangs out with us more than anything at this point.”

“I mean, she’s friends with that douchebag Steve.” Lucas said, upset.

“Was friends. Not anymore.” Mike clarifies.

“Was a friend?” Hopper asked, skeptical. “What happened?”

“Not sure. They were inseparable until one day they just… weren’t.” Dustin replies, which was the truth. He remembers seeing Steve around a few times as he grew up, but then one day his sister stopped going out and didn’t even mention him anymore. Then before he knew it, he witnessed first hand the boy’s ‘asshole’ attitude (Makes him glad that she wasn’t around him anymore).

“Okay, then. What’s his name?”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“Steve Harrington.” 

Steve stopped himself from getting into his BMW to look who was calling him out. To his shock he found two police officers in his presence, and immediately felt sick.

“Um, can I help you, officers?” He asked, paying no heed to the passing stares from other students.

“I’m officer Hopper, this is my partner Callahan. We just want to ask you a few questions.” Hopper explains, as the teenager nods.

“Am I in trouble?”

“No, son. As long as you comply.”

“Okay.”

“Alright then, do you know a girl by the name of Stephanie Henderson?”

His heart sank again like earlier. “Stephanie?” Steve asked, his throat feeling tight (Why was his throat closing up?).

“Yeah. We were told by her brother that you guys used to be friends. Is that true?”

“Yeah, that’s true.”

“Have you spoken to her recently? Seen her?” Hopper asked, getting a shake of his head.

“Seen her? Yeah, I mean I see her everyday, we’re in the same classes, but I didn’t see her today.” Steve shifts his weight around on his feet. “As for talking, I haven’t spoken to her in years.”

“So you haven’t had any real contact with her?”

“No, sir.” Steve watches the two adults exchange glances which pique his interest. “May I ask what’s going on with her? Is she in trouble?”

“Not necessarily trouble, I would say. Her mom came down by the station earlier and reported her missing, saying she didn’t see her in the morning and when they called the school she wasn’t there.”

“If I’m being honest, son, she’s a teenager, she probably just wanted some time alone.” Callahan replies, with a half shrug. “Besides, everyone knows her mother’s a bit… out there. She tends to overreact.”

“There’s nothing for you to worry about, Mr. Harrington. We appreciate your time.” Hopper replies, bidding him a farewell as he begins to leave (but this wasn’t sitting right with the boy’s stomach).

“She never misses her classes though.” Steve blurts out, getting their attention. “Even now, even if we aren’t friends, I notice she never misses school. It’s completely out of her character.”

It really is though. Steve waited until the officers processed his comment, before nodding.

“Noted.” Was all Hopper said and they left, leaving him high and dry, wondering what was truly going on. He was so stuck in his head he didn’t even notice Tommy and Carol making their way towards him.

“Oooh, looks like someone’s in trouble.” Tommy coos, with a grin.

“What did you do, Harrington? Slash Tammy Thompson’s tires finally?” Carol asked, making herself laugh.

But Steve didn’t find this funny, instead his attention was turned back to climbing in the passenger seat. “I gotta go home.”

“What?” Tommy said, caught off guard.

“I gotta go home.”

“What? But you said we were going to the movies?”

“Maybe tomorrow I–” He couldn’t even think straight. “I’m sorry. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He shuts his car door as his name is being called, and quickly pulls away.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Along the Mirkwood road, the three officers were paneling out, surveying the area. Everyone was shouting Will’s name, except Hopper who nerves were shooting through the roof; So much so, he had to stop and pop a pill. These kinds of situations, especially evolving children, were hard for him to deal with. It reminded him too much of his own–

Wait a minute. Were his eyes deceiving him? Does actually see this or was this another one of his episodes? 

But after triple checking, he finally calls the others forward. “Hey! I think I got something.”

He steps off the room, jogging a few feet into the woods. If it wasn’t for the daylight, he surely would have missed a huge clue that was being covered by a few shrubs and ankle deep piles of autumn leaves. Smashed into one of the sweet gum trees was a car, windshield cracked and lightly powdered in stray branches.

“I don’t remember hearing anything about crashes this morning.” Powell said, confused as he examined it. 

Hopper’s keen eyes also caught something lying in the backseat and pulled it out. He frowns, his nerves spiking again. “This is Will’s bike.”

“His bike?” Powell asked, suspicious now. “You don’t think this was uh… a kidnapping?”

“It’s possible. But it doesn’t explain why the kidnapper would crash and abandon the car. Then leave evidence of the child behind.”

“Now, what a second.” Callahan said, perking up. “This is a 1975 Tan Ford Granada, the same car that Ms. Henderson said her daughter drives.”

Hopper’s eyes widen as he sets the bike down. “She also said that her daughter had a Journey keychain.” He opens the driver door, and sure enough, still in the dead ignition, there was a little band keychain dangling off her car key. “Shit.” He locks eyes with his partners. “Which way is the mall?”

Powell pointed in the direction that he feared the most. It was in the same direction the Byers’ house was. Now it was starting to make sense. 

“What are you thinking, Chief?” 

Hopper frowns. “Well, if you look at the bike, the chain’s broken. My guess, Stephanie was driving by and saw him on the side of the road, and offered him a ride home.”

“Then how do you explain the car being off road?”

He sighs, dreading for the answer (both in a good and a bad way). “I’m not sure.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Saying Joyce Byers was livid was probably not a strong enough word after being hung up on so many times. Why, out of the times she actually needed to talk to her ex-husband, he doesn’t answer the phone?! She could pull all her hair out from that man. No wonder they were divorced since he frustrates her so–

“Mom?” Jonathan said, standing up from the couch (He was currently making missing child signs for his brother).

“What?” 

“Cops.” Sure enough, they saw many cop cars pull up, including a tow truck with a car none of them recognize. 

“Is that his bike?” Joyce said, worriedly once she was outside. “And who’s car is that?”

“We found this in Stephanie Henderson’s car.” Hopper replies, sitting the bike down. 

“Stephanie’s car?” Jonathan said, surprised. Well, I guess he shouldn’t be that surprise, ‘cause although they’re not exactly friends as one thinks they might be, given the situation, he knows her enough that she’s the type of girl to give you the shirt off her back if you need it.

“Our best guess right now is that she saw him on the side of the road and offered to drive him back. It makes sense since her mother told us Stephanie called to let her know she’ll be running late from work. And given the time stamp Will’s friends provided us, them crossing paths match up.”

“But that still doesn’t explain everything!” Joyce says, trying to piece this together. “Where did you find her car?”

He sighs quietly. “Down off the road, into the forest.” He starts walking away, motioning for his men to follow him. “Split up, fellas.” He said, once they were inside.

“Did it have any blood on it? Or– or what was the condition of the car? Did it slide off the road?” Joyce asked as she followed him around. “And why are you here instead of looking?”

“Well, he had a key to the house, right?”

“Yeah.”

“So maybe he came home. Maybe they both came home.”

Joyce scoffs, stepping in front of him. “You think I didn’t check my own house?”

“I’m not saying that.” He says, eyes trailing away upon catching something else. “Has this always been here?” He walked over and pointed to an indent in the wall.

“What? I don’t know. Probably. I mean, I have two boys. Look at this place.”

He suddenly opens the door to the backyard, the doorknob trailing directly to the spot of the mini hole. “You’re not sure?” He’s about to question it some more when the dog suddenly starts barking. He heads outside, finding Chester angrily staring down the shed. “Hey, what’s up with this guy, huh?”

“Nothing, he’s probably just hungry.” Joyce said, after following him out. She sighs and drags the dog by the collar. “Come on.”

But as they left, Hopper’s gaze was focused on the shed. Why was the dog so wound up from that place? Treading carefully, he goes inside, flipping the lightswitch on that buzzed lightly above. His eyes scaled the room, immediately noticing something. His fingers wrapped around the box full of shotgun shells, realizing it was half empty.

Empty? He thought, setting it down and heading for where the weapon would be stored. But the two hooks screwed into the wall were bare, and to a shock, when his fingers brushed where it should be, the light suddenly shut itself off.

Out of instinct his hand latched around a flashlight nearby, turning it on. He turned the light towards the door, wondering if someone was just screwing with him but… no one. 

Okay… not creepy at all. He trailed it around, looking closely, nothing making him want to stand on his toes until he decided to turn around. That’s when he saw the back half of the shed was a mess, shelves torn off, boxes and objects thrown everywhere, some even being crushed under some kind of weight. Even the hair on the back of his neck stood up when he swears he could hear someone growling.

His heart was beating in his ears as he crouched down, looking around for anything. (Un)Luckily enough, there was no kid laying emotionless in the pile. He frowns, wondering what scared the boy so much that he went to grab a gun. And then–

Something shiny caught his eye.

He reached out and picked it up, a gold chain unraveled, showing off a heart shaped pendant with two initials carved into it. 

S.H.

“Shit.” Hopper whispered, horrified.

“Hey!”

He shot to his feet, turning around to face his brother in blue. “Jesus!”

“What are you, deaf? I’ve been calling you.” Callahan said, before noticing how ill his boss looked. “What’s going on?”

“Fuck…” Hopper mumbled and started racing back outside.

“Are you sure you’re okay, Chief?”

“Listen, I want you to call Flo. I want to get a search party together, all right? All the volunteers she can muster. Bring flashlights, too.”

“Chief?” Callahan stops him before he goes back into the house. “Hey, you think we got a problem here?”

“I don’t think, I know.” Hopper shows off the necklace. “We’re going to the Henderson’s house.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Dustin watches with fear as the officers explain the situation on hand about his older sister. His mom of course was hysterical, giving the professionals a challenge to get answers out of her. 

“Oh, who could have hurt my baby? And poor Will too.” Claudia sobbed into her handkerchief. “She’s always so kind to others, of course she would have offered him a ride.”

“Ma’am, I know you’re upset, and we’re sending a search party out as soon as possible. But I just need you to confirm that this is your daughter’s, then we can make this one big old case.” Hoppy explains, trying not to be snappy with his words. “Now–” He shows off the necklace. “Is this your daughter’s?”

Dustin’s eyebrows shot up through the roof. “She still wears that?!” He said, shocking both himself and the officer.

“What?”

“Y-Yes.” Claudia said, nodding. “That’s hers.”

“Thank you.” Hopper says, placing it in her palm. He spins his heels around to Powell. “Let’s go. We got two missing people we’re looking for.” 

“Please find her.” She begged, getting his attention once more. “I can’t lose my only daughter.” But all she gets is a sad nod from him as he leaves, watching as all the cars pull off her driveway in a hurry. She sighs and then gasps when felt her son take the necklace away from her, studying it intensely. “Dusty, why were you so surprised she still wears it?”

“Don’t you remember who gave this to her?” He asked, slightly sour.

“Well, no.”

He sighs, and starts leaving the room. “It’s nothing.” 

And it should stay that way.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Meanwhile, later in the day, a heated discussion was going on at the Wheeler’s house over a nice homemade dinner.

“We should be out there right now. We should be helping look for him.” Mike said for the millionth time tonight, extremely close to igniting the fuse in his own mother.

“We’ve been over this, Mike.” Karen said, drawing her attention away from her toddler. “The chief says–”

“I don’t care what the chief said.”

“Michael!”

“We have to do something! Will can be in danger.”

“More reason to stay put.”

“Mom!”

“End of discussion.” She snapped, silencing her son. But when one bird stops chirping, another one decides to start a tune.

“So me and Barbara are gonna study at her house tonight. That’s cool, right?” Nancy says, not an ask, but that of course gets shot down too.

“No, not cool.”

“What? Why not?”

“Why do you think? Am I speaking Chinese in this house? Until we know Will is okay, no one leaves.”

“This is such bullshit.” Nancy replies, dropping her fork.

“Language.” Ted chimes in, still munching on his food.

“So we’re under house arrest? Just because Mike’s friend got lost on the way home from–”

“Wait, this is Will’s fault?” Mike spat, sending daggers at his sister.

“Nancy, take that back.” Karen warned, as Holly started to get teary eyed.

“No!” Nancy scoffed.

“You’re just pissed off ‘cause you wanna hang out with Steve.” Mike quips, sending the whole room into silence. He swallows when he realizes he messed up (and how his sister looked like she was going to kill him).

“Steve?” Her father asked, finally tuning back in.

“Who is Steve?” Her mother asked, as her son decided to just roll with it anyway.

“Her new boyfriend.”

“You are such a douchebag, Mike!” Nancy yells, throwing the chair back and marching out of the room.

“Language!” Ted says, as Karen sighs.

“Nancy, come back. Come back!” She shakes her head, and cups her youngest cheek. “It’s okay. It’s okay, Holly.” She holds up her sippy cup. “Here, have some juice, okay?”

“You see, Michael? You see what happens?”

“What happens when what?” Mike snaps again, still in disbelief. “I’m the only one acting normal here! I’m the only one that cares about Will!”

“That is really unfair, son. We care.” And now his words drove his son away from the dinner table.

“Mike!” Karen yells after him too.

“Let him go.” Ted encourages, as his wife picks up their child.

“I hope you’re enjoying your chicken, Ted.” She says, then leaves herself.

“What did I do?” He notices he is truly alone now. “What’d I do?”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Dustin was sitting on his bed, holding his sister’s necklace in his palm. It was a gold color chain with a dark red heart shaped guitar pick. It even had her initials scratched into it. Such a beautiful and expensive gift. However, he still wonders why she even still wears it. Especially since it was gifted by none of other then–

[ ‘Dustin, do you copy? It’s Lucas.’ ]

He perked up from the voice of his friend coming through on his walkie, and scrambled off the bed to his desk. “Lucas. What’s up?”

[ ‘Mike just called me. Says he wants to go out looking for Will.’ ]

“Looking for Will?” He gasps at how perfect this was. “We can look for Phanie too!”

[ ‘Steph? You mean she hasn’t come home yet?’ ]

“No! That’s what I’ve been saying!” Why don’t his friends listen to him sometimes? “So she’s out there, we have to go find her as well!”

[ ‘I mean, we can. But we’re biking over where Will was last–’ ]

“Oh, no. I got that! But…” Dustin frowns. “Wait. You didn’t hear?”

[ ‘Hear what?’ ]

“Oh, my god– Okay! Well, long story short, my sister wasn’t playing hooky like everyone thought.”

[ ‘What do you mean?’ ]

“According to the police, Phanie apparently gave Will a ride home before somewhere along the way, her car ended up in the woods. They found his bike in her car, and even found her necklace at his home. So, Lucas, my sister was with Will! It’s not just Will who’s missing! My sister is too! Together!”

He thought might have exploded his friend’s brain after the long silence he was given.

[ ‘Oh shit…’ ]

“Yeah!”

[ ‘We have to tell Mike this when we meet up. Don’t worry, man, we’ll find her too.’ ]

“And I have faith in us.” Dustin peeks outside his door. “My mom’s watching her shows right now to keep herself distracted. So we have a few hours.”

[ ‘Perfect. See you in ten.’ ]

“See you in ten.” He puts down the antenna, clenching the necklace in his palm. “Don’t worry, sis, we’re going to find you too.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

[ ‘I’m sorry.’ ]

He heard her apologize for the millionth time while over the phone. He can imagine her cute little face full of irritation (was that reason to be in love with a person?). 

[ ‘My… dumb mother has me under house arrest until morning.’ ]

“Don’t sweat it, Nance.” He said, leaning against the wall while they talked. “You know… I could always be sneaky like a ninja and–”

[ ‘No, Steve. You know what my parents would do if they caught you?’ ]

He hums. “Um, congratulate me?”

[ ‘Steve.’ ]

Steve laughs. “Alright, alright. I’m joking. Uh–” He runs a hand through his locks. “We could… study over the phone?”

That was a good idea.

Right?

Her silence was making him worry. “Um, Nancy?”

[ ‘Sorry. I was thinking. It’s a tempting offer but… risky. I don’t want my parents eavesdropping.’ ]

“Do they tend to eavesdrop?”

[ ‘Steve!’ ]

“Alright, I’ll stop.”

[ ‘We’ll just see each other tomorrow.’ ]

“Of course we will.” He smiles. “As long as uh… the search for that Byers boy isn’t still going on. Heard they’re grabbing everyone in town.”

[ ‘Yeah. Well, it’s not just for him, l mean they’re looking for the Henderson girl too.’ ]

And there it is again.

The horrible, aching feeling in the pit of his stomach.

“S-Stephanie?” The air got trapped in his lungs (Why was it so hard to breathe?). “I thought Will just went missing?” It was just him, right? There’s no way she went missing too. And at the same time no less. “Right, Nancy?”

[ ‘No. From what it sounds like on the news I just overheard, she gave him a ride home, but her car was found abandoned with his bike in it. So… as of now, we have two people missing.’ ]

Stephanie’s really missing? Once again he’s asking himself that it shouldn’t hurt this much, right? It’s not like they’ve been acquitted in years, so–

[ ‘Steve? You there?’ ]

“Uh, um, N-Nancy I… I think I hear my parents. I… I-I got to go.” He said, slurring his words and could practically feel the strange look she was probably giving him right now.

[ ‘You okay?’ ]

“Y-Yeah. I’m… I’m good, I– I think it’s time for dinner.”

[ ‘Isn’t it kind of late for dinner now?’ ]

“Oh, you know, we Harringtons like to have it late. So, uh, pfff– I’ll see you at school tomorrow. Have fun studying.”

[ ‘Steve–’ ]

He hangs up the phone before she questions him anymore.

It just doesn’t make sense. They’re not friends any more so…

.

.

.

Why does it hurt so much?

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

The rain was coming down like a monsoon. Thunder was starting to rumble, lightning was lingering around waiting to strike. Speaking of waiting… The Byers were on their couch, rummaging through photos that touched their emotions.

“Jonathan, wow. You took these?” Joyce asked, amazed by them. “These are great.” She got her son to crack a smile. “Wow, they really are.” Then came the sniffles again. “I-I know I haven’t been there for you. I’ve been working so hard and… I-I just feel bad. I don’t even barely know what’s going on with you. All right? I am so sorry about that.” And then the sobs started coming from her child. “Hey, what is it? What is it, honey?”

He shakes his head. “Nothing.”

“Tell me. Tell me.” Joyce urges, rubbing his forearm. “Come on. You can–”

“No. It’s just…” Jonathan’s blank expression broke. “I s-should’ve been there for him.”

“No. Oh, no. You can’t do that to yourself.” She shakes her own head and gives him a gentle squeeze. “This was not your fault. Do you hear me? He is… close. I know it. I-I feel it in my heart.” She clenches the left side of her chest. “You just have to… You have to trust me on this, okay?”

He nods while leaning into his mother’s touch. “Yeah.”

“Oh, look at this.” She says, picking one where it was just Will and his cute smile. “Look at this one.” It makes them both quietly laugh. “I mean, that’s it, right?”

“Yeah. That’s it.” He smiles sadly. “W-We should… see if Ms. Henderson had any photos of Stephanie. Maybe we can make a poster together.”

Then her whole world gets thrown around when she hears breathing. “Will?” She chokes, eyes widening. “Will? It’s Will!”

“That’s a good idea.” And the phone rings and she shoots off the couch. She prays and prays it’s good news as she yanks the phone off the receiver. “Hello?” She answers, which happened to be nothing but static.

“Hello? Lonnie? Hopper? Who is this?”

Jonathan was by her side in a split second. “Mom, it’s Will?”

“Who is this?!” Joyce screamed when growling came on the other side. “What have you done to my boy? Give me back my son!” And whoever was truly on the other side, replied by shocking her with electricity. She shrieked and threw the phone away, her son picking it up right after.

“Hello? Hello, who is this?” Jonathan asked, the silence making him furiously hit the phone box. “Hello? Who is this?” He finally hangs up, turning towards his hysterical mother. “Mom, who was it? Who was it, Mom?”

“It was him.” She sobbed, as she was taken in his arms.

“Look at me, was it Will?”

“Yes!”

“What did he say?” Jonathan choked, as his mother reached for the phone, hoping they were still connected.

“He just breathed. He just breathed.”

“And was someone else there?”

“I–”

“Mom, who was there? Who was it?”

“It was him…” She wraps her arms around him, knees almost buckling at the emotional exhaustion. “I know it was his breathing. I know it was his breathing.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Meanwhile, in the deep depths of the forest, drenched head to toe, the trio was shouting until their lungs hurt, hoping to find any one of their loved ones. 

“Will!” 

“Stephanie!”

“Byers! Henderson!”

“Anyone?!”

Lucas sighs. “Guys, I’m starting to feel like this is hopeless.” 

“Don’t be a big sissy.” Dustin says, getting ‘the look’.

“I’m just being realistic, man.”

“Well, stop being realistic! My sister and Will are missing, and they’re fine.” They have to be. He doesn’t know what he’ll do if they’re–

“Maybe…”

“Lucas!” Mike scolded, getting a shrug.

“What?” Lucas snapped. “I’m just saying. I mean, did any of you ever think Will and Steph went missing because they ran into something bad? And we happened to be going to the exact same spot where they were last seen? And we have no weapons or anything?”

“So?!” Dustin scoffed. “If it was any of us in their place, my sister and Will would be busting their asses trying to find us!”

“Really? How would you know that?”

“I just do!”

“Shut up!” Mike yells, facing them. Their jaws closed and he shushed them quietly. “Shut up and listen.” And then there was a faint sound of rustling. “Do you guys hear that?”

And then the rustling got louder and louder, the boys spinning on their heels and waving their flashlights around for any signs of life. Just as thunder roared and the spotlights moved to another side, that’s when they were practically blinding a person.

Although it was not Will or Stephanie.

It was another child, barefoot and in a shirt that was practically a dress.

Staring in amazed and confusion, the boys weren’t sure what to say except,

“What the hell?”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| THE NIGHT BEFORE ||

The lights flickered back on with an audible gasp. 

She heaved the strange tasting air into her lungs, eyes adjusting to the bright world before it completely went dim, like an eclipse was happening just overhead. Before she could question where she was, she felt someone tug on her jacket and gasp themself.

Stephanie whipped her body around, catching the sight of the young boy who was now having a bit of coughing fit. “Will?” She says, taking the boy by his shoulders, relieved to see him.

“S-Steph?” He choked, taking a moment to look around with his big cocoa eyes. “What just happened?”

Well that was the million dollar question. What actually happened?

She takes a moment to finally look around herself, realizing they were in the… same spot? Yeah… the same spot. They were still inside the shed, still holding the shotgun, but the only difference was no… what can you even call that thing they encountered?

“We’re still in the shed. But it’s…” Will crinkled his button nose at the sight. “Gross.”

Steph swallows, blue orbs landing on the door. “Stay behind me.” She lets herself push open the shed door slowly, heart beating like crazy as she luckily met with no scary creature. She shivered at the sudden drop in temperature. “Jesus, It’s freezing.”

The outside world seemed to be encased in a blue hue, the places around seemed to be tangled with vines and covered in something sticky. There was also a white powder that looked like snow, raining down from the dark skies above. A sky that didn’t even have moonlight like it did a few minutes ago.

Holy shit… She thought, before feeling around her head, worriedly. She then locked eyes with him and asked, “Did you hit your head when we crashed?” He shakes his head, fueling her emotions. So they weren’t dreaming or having a concussion. So what even is this place? 

Where the hell are we? And in the distance…

A creature snarled…

.

.

.

While waiting for his orders from his master beyond.

(TBC)

A/N: 😬🤭🫣

-Taglist is Open-

@ladygrey03 @poppet05 @tooearlyforthis @lovesfics @lordzzz

@mirkwoodshewolf @sadbitchfangirl

#steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x henderson reader #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington fanfiction #dustin henderson #dustin henderson x sister reader #dustin henderson x reader #eddie munson #will byers x reader #will byers x platonic reader #will byers #stranger things x reader #jopper #jancy #steve harrington x oc #Stephanie Henderson #my fanfic writing #skyfallwrites

[abibliophobiaa]

#eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfiction #Eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x mayfield!sister #eddie munson x oc #Eddie munson angst #eddie munson lives #eddie munson fix it fic #stranger things 4 spoilers #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction

[tiredwithlifesbs]

This is a one shot about Steve Harrington's younger sister X Eddie. This is separate from the timeline in season 4.

"Crushing on the DnD King"

○●●○●○●●●●●●●●●●▪︎○○○○○○○●●○●▪︎●○●▪︎●○

I was standing in front of my mirror. I was just about to go to Eddie's house to watch a movie. I was looking into the mirror, staring so hard it I was like looking through myself. I heard the footsteps of my brother coming into the room. My eyes bolted to look into his as I was shocked he had come in without knocking. Usually the famous Harrington was quite respectful to his younger sister... she guessed not today.

"Woah..."

He was stunned by his sister in a red dress matched with black stockings and black combat boots.

"..Going on a date? With who?"

He seemed very serious with his question. She didn't blame her anxious brother for wanting to see who she was going out with. He did know more about the students at Hawkins High School.

"Eddie Munson. We're gonna watch a movie together.. at his house..er well trailer."

She nervously played with her scrunchie that was on her right wrist as she looked into the mirror at herself again. Her brown hair was put into two braids as to hopefully keep the fluffiness tamed. She heard her brother step closer to her and put his hand on her shoulder.

"Be careful with him.. I don't know much about him but I know he's too suspicious to be perfect."

Steve sounded quite skeptical of Eddie.

"Or.."

She retaliated in a playful tone.

"..You're just jealous of him."

She looked to him with a smirk as he rolled his eyes. He gave her a side hug.

"Just promise you won't do anything too crazy. Please Peanut."

"I promise Stevie. I'll keep out of trouble. It's not like we're gonna fuck."

Steve held her a bit tighter at that statement as he met her eyes with a serious look.

"Well I hope not for the first date. I don't want my sister to give me a nephew or niece that quick... use a condom."

"Of course."

She finally wiggled herself out of his grip and to her purse which she had some lipstick and her wallet in.

"I gotta go Stevie but I'll see you later tonight."

She made her way out of her door and down the stairs to the front door. She heard Steve call out after her.

"DONT BE OUT TOO LATE DANIELLE."

"OKAY MOM."

She called back before walking out.

●●○○●○●○●○●○●○AT EDDIES○●●○○●○○●●○

Danielle was stood outside Eddie's door gaining the courage to knock. After a minute the door opened and there was Eddie with a smile on his face.

"Hey Harrington. What a special surprise. Come on in Beautiful."

A blush came to her cheeks at the compliment as she walked into his trailer. She looked around. It was quite nice and roomie for a trailer. She hadn't been in one before so this was new to her. She smiled at Eddie as he began to show her around the trailer.

○●○●○●●A COUPLE HOURS LATER○●○○●

"..that's why you always have to wear your trusty jacket."

She gave a small chuckle as Eddie was telling me about how his jacket saved his life from bullies in middle school. We had been talking for 3 hours now and completely forgotten about our movie. She had always felt like her and Eddie were meant to be something even though they had only been talking for 5 months. He seemed to know just how to make her happy.

"So Dani.. uh.."

Eddie was nervously looking down at his hands for a second before looking back up at her. There was a loving look in his eyes.

".. Well.. Shit.. I might as well just fucking say it.."

"Eddie.. what's up?"

She questioned sweetly as she had a feeling she knew what was happening.

".. Can.. Can I kiss you..?"

He nervously pushed out of his mouth with a nervous grin. She smiled widely at him with a look of admiration.

"Yes."

They both leaned in for the kiss. Their lips connecting with a warmth neither of them had felt before. Eddie's hands were around her waist as hers were around his neck. The kiss lasted for a couple minutes. Their lips moving in sink as the feeling was mesmerizing.

She pulled away from him looking in his eyes.

"Eddie.. I think I'm falling in love."

He chuckled.

"Me too."

○○●●●○●○●○●●●○□●●○●○●○●○●○●○●○○○●

AHHHH

Let me know if you want anymore. I could make it not just a one shot. :3

MotherLucifer

#steve harrington #stranger things #eddie munson #one shot #oc x canon #swearing #latenight writing #original writing #do not repost without credit #romance #harringtons younger sister #Older Brother Steve Harrington #fanfic

[jimraisedmeup]

TICK // 0.1 Eddie Munson

☾

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: what did your parents think of you? did they worry what strangers on the street might perceive? did they wake in a cold sweat, unable to sleep over fears of their community whispering behind their backs? did bile rise in their throats as they smelled sweat, cigarettes, and fornication on their eldest daughter?

good. clutch those fucking pearls.

"that Buckley girl is going to hell, what a waste of life."

(While this prologue takes place in Season 4 of Stranger Things, the majority of TICK will be set in the years prior, cause I mean for the love of all that is holy, Eddie deserves a backstory)

Rating: Overall this is an explicit slow-ish burn, but each chapter will be labeled accordingly!

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!OC (Robin's older sister)

A/N: I posted this a couple years ago on Wattpad, took it down because I was in a terrible place in my life. Of course, being the sadistic goblin that I am, here you go... that haunting year of my life actually spawned something beautiful. 21 chapters of TICK are already written out, ready to be revised & reborn. I am open to comments/suggestions/requests.

☾ TICK // 0.1 - prologue

☾

Robin sighed, rubbing her left temple and looking around the video store.

"Guys… my sister might know where Eddie is hiding."

Dustin raised an eyebrow as Max scoffed, hand on her hip.

"Since when do you have a sister?"

Exasperatedly, Robin grabbed one of the phones and handed it to Max. "Since forever,” the brunette explained with a grimace. “She graduated last year. But she won't help us if I call her. One of you better do it. She isn't… she's a very private person."

Drumming his fingers on the countertop, Dustin pressed Robin. "And why exactly do you think your sister knows where Eddie is?"

“Umm…” Robin’s voice reduced to a mumble as she coughed out the last bit: “he's her... ex… boyfriend?” 

Two pairs of young, wide eyes stared at her. “What?”

"They kinda used to date, or whatever. A couple years ago."

Max snatched the phone from her, annoyed with the wasted time. "Just give me her number. I doubt she's that bad, if she fell from the same tree as you."

Frantic, Robin's hands were in the air. "That's the thing! I swear she was actually raised by wolves or something." 

"Just dial, Robin!"

The phone rang three times as Robin and Dustin stared at Max in anticipation.

"Hello?"

"Hi, is this… uh… Ms. Buckley?"

You hesitated, suddenly feeling feral and defensive, as an instant layer of sweat formed on your palm that was holding the phone.  

"Might be. This better be a damn good reason to bother me in the middle of a perfectly good Saturday."

Max felt a little intimidated by the tone in your voice. "Well, I was wondering if you had seen or heard from Eddie Munson recently?"

On the other end of the line, you snorted rudely at Max's question.

"Why? Does he want his virginity back?"

☾

TAGLIST for this series if you would like to be notified when I post new chapters!

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddiemunson #eddie munson x female reader #stranger things #eddie munson slow burn #eddie x you #eddie munson x you

[powderblueblood]

HELLFIRE & ICE — eddie munson x f!oc as enemies to star-crossed lovers

CHAPTER FIVE — CHEERLEADERS MAKE BAD NEIGHBORS

PREVIOUS | MASTERLIST | NEXT

summary: after you get kicked off the cheerleading squad by an enraged tina, you're stranded in a rainstorm of biblical proprtions- and the only safe haven is eddie munson's trailer. fuck. content warnings: MINORS DNI I'M NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT HAPPENS TO YOU HERE- male masturbation, sexualized language, some mild objectification, cursing, smoking, drinking, drug mention, reader backstory (i do it for the plot the plot the plot), steve harrington cameo, reader is a pretentious bitch word count: 10.1k

Dear reader, Joan Didion said something because Joan Didion is always saying something. Particularly to me. She comes at me hard, smacking me in the back of the head with perfect clarity and I have not gotten around to not resenting her for it yet. 

‘I think we are well advised to keep on nodding terms with the people we used to be, whether we find them attractive company or not.’

Joan Didion probably did not have to stay on nodding terms with a girl she used to be in order to score a cheerleading scholarship because her family blitzed her college fund on ill-chosen legal advice. 

But she’s got a point.  

You remember that day with perfect clarity. 

Middle school had been a lesson in elocution, thanks to your then-best friend Phoebe’s older sister Casey. Phoebe was a relic of your former life– a bookish indoor kid with Coke bottle glasses, a slight stammer and a distinct lack of style. Despite this, you loved Phoebe and she loved you. But more than that, more than anything, you loved that Phoebe had an older sister. 

A cool older sister. 

Casey was popular in the best way, which is to say that she wasn’t showy about it but she wasn’t humble either. By recognizing the power of being hot and likeable, she knew nothing could ever touch her. 

You wanted to be just like that. 

You remember the first time Casey told you you’ve got potential. Her hand-me-downs were a little too big for Phoebe, because Casey had boobs and Phoebe’s hadn’t come in yet. Even as a pre-teen, you knew an opportunity when you saw it. Can I try that top? And you did, flipping your hair and adjusting yourself in the mirror just like you’d watched Casey do a hundred times, sitting on her bedroom floor and soaking up her knowledge while Phoebe moaned and sulked about being bored. 

Check you out, hot stuff, Casey had smirked, but not in a way where you felt stupid. You’ve got potential.

The shirt didn’t feel entirely right on you, but the way Casey regarded you did. 

Fast forward– your first day of freshman year. You were in the parking lot, stepping out of the passenger side of Casey’s car. Phoebe slid out of the back seat, shoulders slumped forward. You were dressed in an outfit that you and Casey spent hours agonizing over the night before–first impressions are everything, girl–while, again, Phoebe looked on glaring. 

Come meet some of the crew, Casey said, pointedly to you and not to Phoebe. 

Hey– I thought were were going to find our homerooms together, Phoebe protested, grabbing you by the elbow. She knew she wasn’t invited. And she didn’t care– she’d never cared for Casey and her ‘airhead ways’, as she so derisively called them. 

Yeah, girl! you affirmed, a note-perfect impression of her older sister. Phoebe’s big eyes flared with disbelief. You’d spent junior high carefully studying Casey’s every movement, absorbing and adopting her behaviors as your own. Stella Adler would have loved your ass. Don’t worry about it. I’ll catch up with you later, ‘kay?

Make a move, freshman! Casey yelled, and you came trotting after her. There would be no catching up later, and you knew that. You bit back the sinking in your stomach with a Bonne Bell-glossed smile. 

Look, I love my sister, Casey murmured, but I’m glad that you’re my little freshman experiment, ‘kay? You are way more fun that Phoebs and her goddamn library card. 

You nodded, wordlessly grateful. Way more fun. The older girl confiding in you like this made you feel warm, included, grown-up. But not quite so grown-up that you remembered to watch where you were going– the laces of your left Chuck Taylor All-Stars came undone, sending you tripping– tripping–

Oof! Right into the muscular arms of Steve Harrington. Steve Harrington and his autumn colored eyes, his swathe of hair that seemed to grow more voluminous the more girls he flirted with, his shock of grown-up cologne and his perfect, perfect, perfect smile.

But it wasn’t just Steve Harrington. It was also all the surrounding popular kids that had already made a name for themselves coming up alongside you in middle school–Tina, Carol and her boyfriend Tommy Hagan–mingling with the older kids. 

You okay? Steve asked, his voice all breathy and cute the way boys voices are when they’re halfway making fun of you. 

Uh-huh, you nodded, lashes fluttering like crazy as you wracked your brain for something smart to say. 

Let me help you out here.

Then Steve did something you never thought possible, something right out of your daydreams. He got down on one knee and started to re-tie your shoe. 

Better watch yourself, Lacy, he said, tightening the bunny ears, gazing right up at you, Wiping out on the first day is not a good look.

Lacy. Lacy. Your heartbeat quickened at the nickname, hammering like hummingbird wings. It was the greatest thing you’d ever heard– it makes you feel fresh. New. Seen for the first time. Seen by Steve Harrington for the first time. 

Can you blame me? you said before you knew you were saying it; a common occurrence with you, You’re just too easy to fall for, Harrington. 

You drawled out too easy like you’re making fun of him, which of course you weren’t, because he’s Steve Harrington and you would never– but it earned some warm guffaws from the surrounding kids and a little ugh, please, from Tommy Hagan. 

Hagan’s something else. Hagan’s hated you since day dot, and you him. You remember his merciless teasing of some kid during Nancy Wheeler’s thirteenth birthday party, the last boy-girl party of your middle school careers, goading that they were too chicken to go into the closet with you for Seven Minutes in Heaven.

Steve grinned at you, eyebrows quirking upward. A fizzing feeling ran through your sternum and you felt like you might faint. Casey threw an arm around your shoulder, a magnet for attention. Well, it looks like some of you already know my little Lacy! You guys better be fuckin’ cool to her, okay, or else you’ve got me to answer to. 

You smiled up at her, the older sister you’d always prayed for, and she looked impressed with you. That’s all you wanted. That’s all you craved. That, and for Steve Harrington and everybody else to never quit calling you Lacy. 

And they didn’t.

Everything you’d gleaned from Casey equipped you to cruise through freshman year with no speedbumps, no checkpoints– you knew exactly how to wear your hair, how to flirt, how not to flirt, what not to eat, who not to be seen with… and even better than that, these people really took a shine to you. The girls especially.

Hawkins isn’t kind to teenage girls. It’s heavy with passive-aggressive Midwestern sensibility, with all the backwards, misogynistic attitude that comes along with that. It’s not overt, it’s insidious. It makes sense that these girls were scared. Few women make it out of here, and look at the ones that don’t. Their mothers. Your mother.

But what was even scarier was to want something more. To strive for better and be met with the begrudgery of your attempt. To think about life outside the snowglobe of this wicked little town. 

That's the thing with wanting. It doesn’t leave you alone. It gnaws at you while you zone out in the cafeteria, churning around with the half fat yogurt in your stomach. It finds you in the middle of the night, awake on the floor of your friend Carol’s room after an evening of pounding secret wine coolers and picking apart the rest of the Hawkins student body for their flaws and faults, looking around at your friends and thinking, 

God, I fucking hate these people. God, I’ve got to get out.

And you were working on it. Like a motherfucker, you were working on it– perfect grades, perfect attendance, the perfect extracurriculars in an excruciating balancing act with your demanding social life. Keep your record spotless and you could fly the coop to any college you wanted.

One such extracurricular was–is cheerleading. And god, you were great. You’re a flyer, one of the shining, pretty faces responsible for revving up the Hawkins Tigers and their adoring fans. Given your propensity for perfectionism, it’s an obvious position for you. Tina, the reigning captain of the cheer squad, had even taken you under her wing and spit shined up your back handsprings when you tried out as a freshman. Tina had a prior career as a child gymnast, making her a shoo-in for the title come senior year. And here she is now, hollering you all into formation. 

It’s Thursday, and it’s still the week from hell. You had almost forgot about cheer practice, but here you are, in your green and white and gold, ponytail too tight and bruise fading out. The tension between you and Tina casts a thick haze over the gym, the other, less-clued-in members of the squad not exactly knowing where to look. 

It probably wasn’t fair, outing Tina and her indiscretion with Hagan like that. But you felt like a cornered animal. It was all you could do, after all of them subtly chipping away at you for weeks when you’d done nothing but be there for them. Wiped their tears. 

Bought their crabs lotion, in Tina’s case. 

“Sloppy, Lacy! Again!” She’s drilling you like you’ve never been drilled before. Each twist and flip you perform, she finds something wrong with it– and you can’t even tell her she’s wrong. You have gotten sloppy, because your head’s not in the game. While cheerleading was a social and athletic high at one time, it wasn’t high on your list of priorities right now. Dismounting your bases and tugging your ponytail ever tighter over your skull, you stalk towards her. 

“Alright, Tina!” you yell, bubbling over with frustration. “How about you just drop the Russian gym coach bit and tell me what I’m doing wrong? Or is yelling at me all you got?” 

She does her best attempt at a withering glare. You can’t help but think it looks like something she learned from you. “How about I show you instead?”

Tina shoulder checks you, hard, and calls to one of the underclassmen. A mousy sophomore with sandy bangs and blazing Bambi eyes. This kid looks terrified, and knowing Tina’s reputation, she should be. “Cunningham! You’re up!”

Chrissy Cunningham. Right. Heir to the throne of Hawkins High. You don’t think you’ve heard her speak more than a couple of words and most of those have been in response to her Aryan meathead boyfriend, Jason Carver. 

But for what Cunningham lacks in vocal force, she makes up for in aerodynamics. This girl makes a basket toss look like ballet, ponytail pirouetting as she lands in the bases’ arms. Every move, faultless. She’s locked in. 

“That is what I want. What I don’t want, Lacy, is a flyer that looks like she’s losing control of her rectum mid-toss,” Tina hollers. “We all know how crucial this weekend is. Not just for us, but for the Tigers, too. Right? So that means the last thing we need is dead weight dragging us down.” She locks her laserlike stare on you. “Right?”

The squad mumbles in the affirmative. Chrissy Cunningham visibly gulps.

And you? A knife slices right through you, cold and exacting. You almost gag, trying to swallow through your thickening throat. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” 

“You tell me, Lace. You’re the one that knows everything.”

You don’t waste a second of time trying to counter-argue, because you can’t be sure it won’t end in your limbs flailing, trying to smash Tina’s head against the waxed floorboards of the gym. Instead, you grab your bag. You give the squad a grimacing nod and head to heave the double doors open. 

The sound of your sneakers squeaking against the linoleum floor makes you want to tear your shoes off and throw them through a window, just to watch the glass shatter.

You really never thought of yourself as a violent person, not until– everything happened. 

But now, god, now you just want to punch and tear and rip everything apart. This slow burn of your social status, your friends, your tether to reality as you know it slipping away is torturous. You’d rather burn it all up than let it swallow you whole. 

Standing on the front steps of the school, your eyes automatically dart to the parking lot. 

It’s not there. He’s not there.

And why would he be? you think, starting in the direction of the trailer park. You hadn’t spoken to him since that day in the record store, leaving him hanging with his hands behind his back and his mouth in that grin.

There was a reason for that. Call it post-high clarity or something else, but you knew right then you needed to focus the fuck up. Quit acting out because of your daddy’s mistakes and prove all of these shitheels wrong once and for all. 

Blend in. Stop causing trouble. Fall in line and study hard and cheer harder and get the hell out of dodge once you get your hands on that high school diploma. By whatever means necessary. Those means really did not include hanging out with Eddie Munson for even a second longer than you already had. 

–which is a nice thought and all, but Tina really shit all over that one with this shedding the dead weight move. 

The clouds above you carry the most pathetic of pathetic fallacies, gray and pregnant with rain that starts to hit you square on the crown of your head in fat, heavy drops. You’re still fifteen minutes from the trailer park, at least, and you don’t have a raincoat. You don’t have an umbrella. And you don’t fucking care.

You stomp up the dirt drive leading into Forest Hills, the pleats of your green skirt heavy with water, your cheerleader’s cardigan weighing down your shoulders. Your white knee-high socks are flecked with mud and getting dirtier with every sloppy step. And the rain, the relentless relentless rain, is streaming into your eyes, streaming mascara with it. 

You gasp against the cold of the downpour as you approach your trailer– and a glowing yellow light catches in your peripheral vision. His bedroom, the one you can see into from your bedroom. Though you try not to look. And sometimes you fail. 

You don’t see much, when you do look. It’s mostly his hunching figure, bent over his guitar or some binder or book or map or figurine. But he always seems calmer, the frenetic energy he wears around like chainmail finally falling to the floor. Watching him like that makes you want to breathe a sigh of relief right along with him, just to see if you’d feel similarly. Calmer. 

Calm is not how you feel right now, wiping the rain from your face as you dig in your bag for your keys. Once, twice, thrice they slip out of your hands, and on the fourth try, you finally get them in the door. And then– the key strains in the lock. Come on. This door has always been unnecessarily sticky, but this wasn’t really the time– you push and you push the silver key to the left with no give. 

Was your mom in there? Had she left her key in the door by accident before she went on another overnighter with Prince Valium? “Mom! Mom!” you yell, hammering on the door. No dice. You pull at the key again, and pull and pull and– 

Snap.

You shudder, a full body shake that’s only partially down to the rainwater that’s soaked you right to the bone marrow. The key has snapped off in the lock, leaving you standing there with a useless silver nub. 

“Fuck!” you holler, “Fuckfuckfuckfuck fuck! Fucking–shit!” 

Your fists go straight to the side of the trailer, banging one after the other against the metallic veneer. You don’t care that it hurts your knuckles, you want it to dent or crack or something, you want to not feel so impotent and fucking useless, but here you are! 

“Hey! Asshole!”

Your head whips around, heavy, sodden ponytail smacking you in the face. 

Eddie Munson is leaning out his bedroom window, barely visible through the downpour. 

“Keep it down! You’re in a residential goddamn area!” He’s not smiling that shiteating smile. He’s not even grinning. He’s just glowering at you, which is the look you’re most accustomed to seeing him wear. Even so, it feels– it feels– it makes you feel worse. 

“Fuck you!” you scream across to him, “Who died and made you the fucking neighborhood watch?!”

“Go inside, you lunatic!”

“My fucking– my key broke off, dickhead!” 

That makes his brow loosen a little bit. You just stand there, gasping in the rain. And then he disappears from the window–

–only to fling open the front door of his trailer. 

“Come on,” he grumbles, massaging the space between his eyebrows like he can’t believe what he’s fucking doing. 

“No.” 

“What? Cut the shit, Lacy, come inside.” 

“No! I don’t want to!” 

Munson’s face opens up in an expression of sheer incredulity– and you partially can’t believe yourself either. What is it about him that just makes you shove and shove and shove, unable to let him win– or in this case, unable to let him help? 

“Fine! Fucking drown out there for all I care!” The trailer door slams.

Your teeth have started to chatter, and your options from here on out are… walk or hitch your way back to town and drag your sodden ass somewhere there’s a phone where you then call your mom and pray she’ll pick up (she won’t) and tell her about the lock and try to tell her about the cheerleading squad and pray she’ll understand how upset you are (she won’t) and how much of an awful spiral this whole year has become and it’s not even Christmas yet and–

The trailer door swings back open. 

Eddie Munson comes stalking out into the rain, white Reeboks splattering mud everywhere. He’s wearing that shirt from his Dungeons and Dragons club, the one with the big fucking smug Satan splayed across it and you wonder, did he model that after himself? 

“What’s your fucking problem?” he asks, point blank. It feels like he’s aiming something at you. 

“I’m having a shitty fucking day!” you scream in response, making that dog belonging to that red headed kid sister of Billy Hargrove’s yap somewhere in the distance. “And I keep telling you, I don’t need your fucking–”

“Help? Right!” he scoffs, loud and indignant, crossing his arms across his chest. The fabric of the ringer tee is changing color before your eyes, clinging to him. “You don’t need my help yet you always take it, you don’t wanna be seen with me yet you end up at my lunch table, in my van, smoking my weed– you know, it may shock you but I’m not exactly thrilled to be seen with you either, Lacy! I mean, playing chauffeur to a grade A certified bitch that wouldn’t give me the time of day unless she was desperate? Who stood by and let her shitty friends, who aren’t even her friends anymore, make mine and my friends’ life a living hell for how many years? What kind of an asshole does that make me? How pathetic is that?” 

The way he spits the word bitch– it was different from the way he said it in the record store. There, it felt like a come-on. A compliment. Here, it feels like a curse. But oh, he doesn’t stop there! You are rooted to the spot, an unmoving target for his justified rage. 

“You can’t even play ignorant, y’know, because I’ve seen you. You’re smarter than them. You know how godawful those people are–Harrington, Carver, Carol, fucking Hagan worst of all–and you just let ‘em run. Because you needed that status, you needed to be the most evil fucking twat at the twat table, and for what? They left you, Lacy! They all left you!” 

You’re not sure at what point in his speech you started sobbing but at its crescendo, you yelp. It’s a high, pathetic sound you wish you could stuff back inside your throat and hopefully choke yourself with. See, you know all these things. You’ve told them to yourself in your most honest moments, of which there are not many, but having Eddie Munson lay them out for you in the pouring rain– it’s horrible. You’re horrible. 

Eddie’s arms move from where they were bound on his chest. Okay, that was an outburst, sure, but he didn’t mean to make you cry. And you’re like, really crying. He can’t stand it when girls cry, and you, in particular–you, having never displayed much emotion beyond bemusement and annoyance and mild disgust toward him–is especially frightening. 

And then you let out this scream. It comes right from the center of your chest, rumbling and primal and visceral and real. It’s a real noise, not one you put careful, curative thought into, tuning it just right before you let it out. Because in this instance, he’s right! You’ve worked so hard, and for what! For fucking nothing! For it to blow up in your face! So you let out another howl– and it feels so, so good. A feeling of satisfaction, more than a feeling of relief–

–so Eddie screams too. God, that feels fantastic.

His is heavier than yours, obviously, because he’s a guy and he probably screams as a hobby in whatever metal band he supposedly plays in. But you like that sound. You like the way it seems to ring off the exteriors of the trailer, ricocheting around like a pinball in its machine. 

A couple more painful sobs escape you, and Eddie’s taking tentative steps toward you, like you’re a snarling animal he’s trying to coax. 

In ways, you are, but that’s because you feel hunted. You have to blink, through tears and through rain, but you see that his shirt is so soaked that it’s see-through. You can see a vague suggestion of a tattoo on his chest. You see that he’s fighting a smile. 

This is so stupid. This is so ridiculous, that you could make a noise like that and completely short circuit the white hot anger he was spewing at you. 

“Come inside,” he breathes, a little less than a foot of space between you, “You lunatic.”

Your head, so heavy on your neck, so heavy from crying, so heavy from carrying your spiteful brain around, falls against his chest. 

“Uhh…” Eddie mumbles, hands hovering behind your back, not sure if he’s supposed to embrace you or if you’re about to rip his heart out of his chest. Either could be true. 

You know what you’d prefer. 

You’re positive he doesn’t here you exhale into his chest, into the mouth of the cartoon Satan, into the thrum of his jumping heartbeat. Sorry. I’m really… I’m so sorry.

“Hey,” he murmurs, “hey. Shit.” His hand finally rests in between your shoulder blades. You let him guide you inside, and he even picks up the book bag you had thrown in the mud. You reach, try to grab it from him, but he yanks it out of your grasp. Half teasing, half assuring you that it’s okay.

A squeaky, squelching silence settles between you two as you stand in his doorway. You’re creating a puddle near some old work boots. You wonder if they’re his– you’ve never seen him not wear those Reeboks. 

“So… welcome,” he cringes, emitting a pitchy, awkward laugh. You follow him through to the kitchenette, which is identical to your kitchenette, except every surface is not covered in legal correspondence or empty wine bottles or too-expensive tchotchkes. The light in here seems dimmer, warmer. There’s a distinct aroma of stale cigarette smoke and old coffee, which you breathe in deep. “Sorry for the mess–”

“It’s fine. It’s good mess,” you say, a little distant. You peer around the place like you’re in a gallery. 

“Good mess?” he queries, crossing to the kitchen sink where he attempts to wring his shirt out by hand– still wearing it. 

“Lived-in mess,” you say. What you mean is, it doesn’t look like a mausoleum of a life someone left behind. A storage locker. A haphazard sarcophagus. Before you moved to the trailer, your house was so clean– that was a whole other problem. The same tchotchkes that are scattered on your counter were kept behind glass, only touched when your mother polished them, the only housework she ever did. You stare at a collection of trucker hats nailed along the living room wall, the shelf of novelty mugs that accompanies them. 

“Living in mess? What is that, like living in filth? You better start showing this fine abode some respect before–”

“Lived. In. Munson, I said, lived in if you would just listen– it’s good, it’s fine. It’s n-nice.” 

It’s warm in the trailer, you can tell, but you’re shivering. You bear down in your body, jaw all set so your teeth don’t start chattering again, but he hears it in your voice. 

“Uh-oh,” he says, somehow not at all betraying any signs of being out in the freezing rain except for being entirely soaked. You bet his skin is still running hot, like you felt through his shirt, like you felt grabbing his wrist. “Star cheerleader’s coming down with a case of hypothermia. Right before the big game!” 

He slaps his hands to his cheeks in mock horror. 

“I’m–” you’re about to tell him a couple things; one, that you’re fine which would be stupid, because you are so clearly not fine; two, you’re not the star cheerleader anymore; and a third, forgotten thing. “--cold,” is what you settle on. It sounds small, vulnerable.

Eddie holds his breath for a second. You sound so delicate. Hard, terrible you.

“No, sure, of course you are,” he fumbles. The way his wet hair has flattened to his skull makes him look younger– exposing a nervous boy behind the metalhead posturing. “You can– take a shower. If you want. To warm up.” 

Take a shower. In Eddie Munson’s trailer. Your eyelids flutter closed, taking on their own vibrations from the wracking of your body. This is a hell of my own making. “Yes. Sure. Thank you.”

“I can also,” he starts, crossing the kitchen again and knocking something over on his way– it just clatters to the floor, whatever it was, and he lets it, like he’s used to leaving crashing sounds in his wake. “I can take your clothes if you want. Put ‘em in the washer.” 

You hesitate a beat, then follow him down a hallway. 

“I probably have something you can wear,” he says. There’s a note in his tone that’s high and nervous. “You’re for sure gonna hate it, but hey– beats freezing to death.” 

“Just barely,” you murmur. 

“Huh?”

“This, uh– this is dry-clean only,” you correct yourself, gesturing to the uniform. 

He rolls his eyes. “Of course. Only the best for the pom-pom shakers.” 

He ducks into a room that must be his bedroom, but you don’t follow him. Instead, you linger in the hallway, near the dingy bathroom, staring at the corn themed wall calendar. Going into his bedroom feels too personal– too intimate, as if preparing to take a shower in Eddie Munson’s trailer only to change into his clothes isn’t intimate. 

“I figured,” he says, emerging from the bedroom with clothes and a towel in hand, “since you like all that rinky-dinky-tinkly garbage, you wouldn’t hate wearing a Stooges shirt.” 

“I–” the shirt is soft under your wrinkled fingers, as are the boxers he passes off to you. Boxers. You hold them up between your forefinger and thumb, stepping into the bathroom. “These are clean, right?”

Eddie stares at you for a second– then leans his head into the bathroom and shakes his sopping locks at you, just like a dog. You let out a shriek that he thinks almost sounds like an involuntary giggle. I’ll take it.

“No comment!” And he slams the door on you. 

Then you’re standing. In Eddie Munson’s trailer. In Eddie Munson’s bathroom. Holding his old Stooges shirt and his boxers, with mascara running down your face. 

You pinch yourself, hard, just in case. 

The shower heats up quick–quicker than yours, you notice–and you rest your head against the tile as the steam swirls up around you. This is so weird. This is so fucking weird, and you can’t scrub away the weirdness fast enough. There’s not enough Irish Spring in the world. You reach into the shower caddy to replace the bottle and notice something familiar– wait, that’s–

Wait. 

Do you and Eddie Munson use the same brand of shampoo? 

You had to switch from your favorite to the best that the Big Buy had to offer, given the change in your personal means, and this was the top score in terms of quality. Eddie Munson apparently agrees– but better yet, you realize as a grin spreads across your face, Munson uses women’s shampoo. 

It’s nice to have a fresh piece of arsenal to aim at him once you get out of the shower. 

Toweling off and changing, you do give the boxers a wary sniff before you put them on– but luckily, they smell like generic detergent and aren’t stiff in any way. So you slide them on.

They fit snugly– naturally, given he’s all sinewy and you have hips. He is really sinewy, now that you think about it. 

His wrist wasn’t bony, but it was active. Tendons flexing under the thin, soaked layer of his shirt. You wonder, absently, was that a tattoo you saw. What is it. What does it look like. Is it shitty. It’s his, so it’s probably shitty, but I want to see it. Does he have any more. 

You shiver, slipping the Stooges t-shirt on, and blame your hardening nipples on the cold.

The cheer outfit is another problem. You emerge from the bathroom, clutching the still-sodden uniform with Eddie’s– Munson’s towel thrown over your shoulder. 

“Do you have, like, a garbage bag or something?” you ask, eyes rising to look at him where he stands in the doorframe of his room. He’s still in his soaked clothes. 

He takes a second to answer you, and when he does, his voice is all thick. Avoiding eye contact. 

“Suuure,” and he disappears and reappears with a plastic bag, quick as a blink. 

“Thanks.” You dump the uniform, sneakers and all, into the bag and make for the door. 

“Hey, it’s still raining–” his voice follows you, as if you hadn’t heard the raindrop gunshots hitting the trailer roof. 

“Yup,” you say, popping the ‘p’. You yank Munson’s door open and fling the garbage bag outside. It lands squarely between your trailer and his. 

Munson appears over your shoulder, looking out at the garbage bag. His face is twisted in confusion, concern, curiosity. 

“I got kicked off,” you explain, plain as biscuits. 

“Off the pom pom squad?” he whispers, eyes flaring in surprise that you think might actually be real. You’re looking at his lashes again, fanning around the almost-perfect circles of his eye sockets. 

“The very same.”

“Escándalo. What happened?”

“How about you go and shower first,” you suggest, poking a finger into his chest. He makes a little breathy noise, a little ‘unh’, that you don’t… hate. “Can’t have the star dork of the make believe board game club catch his death, can we?” 

“Anything happens to me and you’re the prime suspect, babe,” he grins and snaps the towel off your shoulder. 

“Hey!”

“This is the last clean one. What am I, a fuckin’ Rockefeller?”

-

Christ, he wants to jerk off into this towel but he knows that’s weird. That’s perverted. That’s fucked up. That’s everything everyone says about him and that’s everything you make him feel. 

So he strips, turns the hot water to scalding and furiously rubs one out down the drain. One, because he feels bizarre about leaving you alone among all of his things for too long and two, because hot water is in short supply. 

And three, because he’s achingly rock hard at the sight of you in his boxers, tossing your cheerleading outfit into the mud and the wet. 

The metaphors. The implications. The feeling of your forehead against his chest. The stab of your finger in his sternum. 

He cums jaggedly, almost silently, with his mouth rammed against his forearm. 

If you heard him– God, you’d be so nasty about it. God, he’d never live it down. God, he’d love to know what you’d say.

He makes damn quick work of sudsing up and rinsing down, wrapping a towel around his waist– only to run into you as he’s coming out of the bathroom. 

You stare. You stare at him, and Eddie’s mouth goes dry, and all the blood drains away from his brain. Again.

“Stare much?” he sneers, but only just about. Because his first instinct is to drop the towel and give you an eyeful. See what you’d do– hopefully something with your mouth. God, he hopes it’d be something with your mouth. 

“Where are your smokes?” you snap back. “I know you have some.”

“Kitchen. There’s probably–,” he needs you to stop looking at him like that; like you’re going to snap his neck, “--kitchen.”

Eddie slams his bedroom door and smacks his face with three quick strikes. “Come on, man! Get it together!” 

Because it’s go time. 

He has to formulate some kind of plan. 

He hadn’t exactly thought ahead when he invited you inside–or, demanded you come inside–and since you now had no place to go and Wayne had specifically told him not to go near you and your boobs were stretching out his dad’s old Stooges t-shirt…

Christ. 

He’s entirely, massively, completely at a loss. Eddie paces around the room like an animal in panic, grabbing a Scorpion shirt and some worn flannel pants as he goes. 

“Like, I’m supposed to go out there and do what? Ask her to hang out? Fucking paint her nails, read Cosmo? Study?! Jesus!” he angrily mumbles to his reflection, tearing the towel away and tugging his t-shirt over his sopping hair. “Hey, Lacy, you wanna beer? Who am I, Steve fucking Harrington? Jesus, Jesus, Jesus Christ, dude!”

“Munson. Are you talking to me in there?” He hears your voice from a minute distance away– see, that’s the thing about trailers. Small space, thin walls, and Eddie Munson’s voice travels at super speed. 

He stops, seizing, cringing, shoulders hitching up to his ears. 

That was not enough time to formulate a plan. 

Eddie, jankily tugging his pants on, sweeps out to the kitchenette area like something is chasing him and stops dead when he sees you. You haven’t trashed the place. You haven’t even tried to stick your head in the oven, two things he was kind of concerned about given the way you were wailing outside. 

You’re standing in the middle of the room with your hip cocked out, smoking a stolen cigarette and studying his uncle’s trucker hat collection. 

All the air in the room seems to orbit around you like a tornado in slow motion. 

How is it that you make an old shirt and boxers look like a skirt set? How is it that you can be sobbing your lungs out one minute, then the picture of poise and sophistication the next? 

All that air and none left for Eddie to take a breath.

“Hey, Lacy,” he strains, “you wanna beer?” 

“What,” you purr– like, he’s so sure that you actually purr, “You mean you’re all out of Sancerre?”

He does not know what the hell that is, but he can only assume it’s some rich people bullshit– and he’s relieved. You’re mocking him. At least that’s some tether to normalcy. She’s baa-aack. 

Eddie rolls his eyes, not entirely meaning it, but if he beams right at you he’s going to give the game away. 

“Think fast!” He tosses a can of the cheapest beer available at the Big Buy your way and you just about catch it, hands above your head and the cigarette dangling out of your mouth like Keith Richards. 

“God, Munson,” you mumble around the filter, “What kept you off the basketball team?” 

“Half a brain and a big dick,” he smirks, cracking the pull top and snatching the soft pack of cigarettes you’d left on the countertop. You cross from the living room, propping yourself up on the counter stool in a fluid movement that can only be described as feline. 

“Well, we sure can account for one of those things,” you say, ashing with your right hand and tapping at your temple with your left. 

“And the other?” Eddie asks, voice dropping a mocking octave. 

“I’d sooner drink arsenic than find out.”

He raises his beer can to you. “In that case, cheers!”

Your mouth twists around a smile and Eddie can see you’re fighting hard to keep it at bay. And that you’re losing. You tip your beer to your lips and he braces his elbows on the counter, looking around for a lighter. He spots a Bic, but the trigger won’t light it– just sparks, no flame. 

“That thing’s dead,” you say, “I lit this off the toaster.” 

“Oh! Right,” Eddie goes to turn, but something chilly snaps to his forearm. Your fingers. Damn. What is it with you? Circulation thing or what?

“Don’t do that,” you shake your head. “I don’t trust you not to burn the whole trailer down.”

“This is my trailer, y’know.”

“Yeah, and I’m in it. So burn it down on your own time.”

You motion for him to light his cigarette off the half-burned length of yours and Eddie tentatively places the filter between his lips. You prop yourself up on the stool, ass raised from the seat, leaning toward him. He leans in too and you cup that little hand with the perfectly painted fingers around the cigarettes. Like you’re whispering a secret. You look down, focusing on making fire, but Eddie’s eyes follow the tiny crease of your brow, the slope of your nose. The little wipe of mascara still underneath your eye. 

Tips touch and Eddie inhales just as you do. The cherried ends of the smokes glow orange and you pull back and Eddie just stays there a moment, frozen with the now-lit ember hanging out of his mouth. 

You pull back and inhale that smoke like one of those chicks from those black and white movies Wayne is always watching. You exhale all daintily, in one perfect clouding stream. You’re all– you’re so–... 

“Fucked,” you groan, shoving the heels of your palms into your eyes. “I am so fucked.” 

Eddie finally tugs the cigarette from his mouth, filter gone a little soft with the low-level salivating he’d been doing. “Oh. The cheerleader shit?”

“Yes, Munson. The cheerleader shit.” 

“What happened, anyway?” He resumes the position of being elbow-up on the countertop, which incidentally brings him a little bit closer to you. Incidentally. “You crack some skulls this time?”

“Huh,” you chuckle emptily, “Almost. Um, Tina more or less took me out at the knees. Which, I understand of course. If I were her, I would have obliterated me, but–” 

“You’re not her, and it doesn’t feel awesome to be on the other end of obliterated,” Eddie nods, giving you a squint-eyed pout of mock-sympathy. “Poor Lacy. Getting shitkicked by the consequences of her own actions.”

Thunk! You punch him in the shoulder, which hurts and he gasps, but it’s so funny and categorically unladylike coming from you. These little peals of violence that keep coming off you are a seemingly bottomless source of amusement for him. 

She’s so funny-looking when she’s mad. 

“Fuck off!” you bark, as if reading him like a goddamn horoscope, but there’s a glimmer to your narrowed stare. “I got replaced by a sophomore, as if I needed an insult topping on that injury shitshake.” 

“Oh, she Old Yeller’d your ass!” Eddie gasps again, chuckling heartily, “Took you out back and–” He mimes blowing your brains right out, nailing you right through the forehead. You stare at him square, unimpressed. “Who usurped ya?”

“Chrissy Cunningham.”

Oh. Well, isn’t that interesting. Eddie’s lips flatten into a straight line and he makes a little mmh sound. And you pick up on that immediately, being that you’re annoyingly perceptive. 

“Munson! Come on!” 

“What? Whaaat? I didn’t say anything!”

“That’s a child.”

“That is a sophomore and you said so yourself. Besides…” he trails off, pointedly crushing the butt of his cigarette into the ashtray until it’s oversquished. “...we have history.”

If his cigarette extinguishing was pointed, yours is needle sharp with the way you crush it into the ashtray right next to the remnants of his. 

“Go on,” you hum, just like you did in the van that last night. I really wanna know. It’s conspiratorial and intoxicating and makes it feel like you’re on his side, which you know he’s not but it’s so, so tasty to think that for a second you might be. 

Is this how you make everyone feel? Lull ‘em into a false sense of security? Hoard your ammo and go apeshit later? 

Eddie draws back, nearly congratulating himself for doing so. “That’s for me to know, and you to die ignorant.” 

The way your lips pop open is almost too good, your little doll face turning to a mask of betrayal too quick for you to hide it. Too quick for you to be all like fine! Keep it to yourself! You’re both totally irrelevant anyway! or whatever other bitchy retort you’re bound to come up with. 

“Wow. Well, if that holds any water, Carver’ll shit,” you start, sipping on your beer, “His little virgin Mary deflowered by the devil’s first alternate.” 

“Hey, I never said–!” Fuck. Fuck! How do you do that! Eddie pinches his lips together as you smirk over the rim of the beer can, all stuck under your gaze. Fly in the spider’s web. 

“A-ha,” you say, irritatingly smoothly. “So nothing happened. She’s just spank bank material.” 

“Didn’t– say that either,” Eddie mumbles, mind going annoyingly blank under your rapid fire tearing and the inebriating way you’re delivering it. He hates this and he has no intention of telling you to stop. The duality of man. 

“Didn’t not say that, though.” 

“You oughta be a lawyer,” he tells you, swigging deep, “the way you find a loophole in everything.”

“The way you want me to get you off, you mean.” 

You come out with that, something so incendiary, oh-so-casually and slip off your seat. She can’t just do that. You’re padding around the living room again, bare footed and small-looking, but Eddie’s staring at you like you’re a hand grenade with the pin missing that also has the secret to everlasting life inside. Terrified. Fascinated. 

A little stiff.

“What?” he breathes, but doesn’t really want you to answer the question. 

And you don’t, you just keep looking around the living room with your arms crossed over your chest. “You need money to be a lawyer, Munson. To go to law school. To go to any school. And I don’t have that. And I foolishly figured getting a cheerleading scholarship would be a cinch of a backup plan, and now I can’t do that either.”

“What are you looking for?” he asks, finally willing his dick down and his legs to work, rounding into the living room with you. 

“Your, like… stereo, or record player, or something,” you murmur, smoothing down his boxers over your hips. “It’s too quiet in here.”

Eddie blinks. What should really happen is he should say, no, stay out here in the silence, you insolent wench. Think on your crimes. Reflect. Repent. Stop being such a bossy little ballbreaker and give my balls a break.

“Room. Uh– it’s in my room,” is what he says instead. 

“‘kay,” is all you say with a little shrug of your shoulder, grabbing your can from the counter and padding down the hallway toward that same bedroom. His bedroom. Eddie Munson’s bedroom with his bed and his shit in it. “Let’s go.”

How irregular does your heartbeat have to get before you classify it as a cardiac event?

-

There’s only so many times you can flagellate yourself with the ol’ what the fuck are you doing thing before it becomes redundant.

Songs get overplayed, nail polish color gets overused, trends die. Things become redundant all the time, and you discard them. 

The notion of what the fuck are you doing in Eddie Munson’s trailer in Eddie Munson’s boxers walking towards Eddie Munson’s bedroom has become redundant because you simply are doing all those things. Not much point in questioning them. The chips have fallen. 

An eerie calm had come over you when he was in the shower and you were staring at all of these trucker hats on the wall– if the insanity is temporary, you might as well lean into it. You can’t go anywhere else. You’re trapped. Might as well get comfortable.

“God, this place is filthy, Munson.” You, with your arms still bound across your chest, toe a discarded t-shirt out of your path as you move into the bedroom with that same reserved interest of a gallery-goer. The place is cluttered, posters and flyers and doodles torn out of notebooks tacked up on the wall in total disarray. Every surface area is covered in what could be organized chaos, but knowing Munson the little that you do, you doubt it. 

To test the theory, you ask, “Where are your records? Tapes, anything?”

But he’s just lingering in the doorway, chewing on the end of a lock of hair. Watching you stand in the middle of the room with astronaut eyes, unblinking. It’s kind of– sweet, in a deeply unnerving way. He looks like a kid. 

Your brow furrows, grimace turning your lips into a point.

“Fine. Ogle me like a goddamn lobotomy patient, then.”

You resume your perusing of his things, when you spot the most precious piece of hardware hanging by the mirror. A marbled black and red body fashioned into nasty spikes. You reach out to give the strings an aimless thrum but your wrist is rapidly snatched away. 

“Nuh-uh. That’s where I draw the line,” Munson says, shuffling you away from the guitar like a security guard. A flash of something as your calves hit his mattress– him shepherding you toward your own bed, you drunk out of your gourd. “Siddown.”

And you sit, bouncing against the sinking mattress on impact. Rubbing at the spot on your wrist that his fingers had been squeezing. Staring up at him glowering down at you. “Ow.”

And Munson, it turns out, knows where everything is in his nuclear fallout of a room. He shoves a shoebox of tapes into your hands and nudges a bigger milk crate full of records nearer to you with his foot. 

“Knock yourself out,” he huffs, flinging himself face-down on the mattress next to you. You jerk; always the court jester, this guy. “Not that you’re gonna find anything you want to listen to.” 

A scoff flies out of your mouth before you’ve got a chance to suppress it– he’s gotta know, right? He’s gotta know he can’t just say shit like that to you without you fully activating that I can do anything you can do better–backwards–bleeding–in heels chip in your brain. You’ll show him. There’s nothing that matters to you more in the world right now than showing him. 

Though, rattling through his box of tapes, each one bearing a different variation of hot chick and the Devil artwork, you’ve got your work cut out for you. W.A.S.P. Mercyful Fate. Dirty Rotten Imbeciles. Witchfinder General. Some band that’s literally just called Loudness, for Chrissake. As you flick and flick, hope wavering, one catches your eye. There’s a jump in your throat. Scrawled letterhead against a draped satin background. A photo of something you always figured was a headless marble statue, though you could never be sure. 

“Why do you have this?”

No response from the corpse of Munson, presumably smothered by his own comforter.

“Hey!” you tap the back of his skull with the plastic casing. One eye appears, glaring up at you from the mattress. Rattle rattle goes the Cocteau Twins tape as you shake it in its case. “Thought this was haunted doll music.” 

“Ow.” Munson slowly raises himself onto his elbows, looking like he’s about to start kicking his legs in the air behind him. Twirling his hair around his finger. A grin is edging onto his lips, lips he’s pulling strands of hair away from. 

“Sometimes the five finger discount chooses you.” 

A feeling akin to heat spreads rights across your breastbone. You want to pry, secretly. You want an explanation. Why would you take that? Do you like me, or something? But asking speaks it into existence, and the insanity is temporary, and you’re so waiting for dawn to break on it so you can resume some hobbled together semblance of a normal existence. 

One that doesn’t include Eddie Munson stealing tapes that make you feel ticklish in order to, I don’t know, listen to them on his own so he can feel ticklish too. 

He hadn’t listened to it, for the record. Not all the way through, at least. 

He’d gotten as far as track two and had to switch it off, ejecting it out of the tape deck of his van with such speed that he was sure it’d shoot clean through the doors in the back. Too close, too real. That had veered a little out of the lane of objectifying you as someone whose crotch he maybe wanted to bury his face in and a little into the lane of you being like, a person. With feelings. 

The events of tonight aren’t helping that case. He hoped that lying face down for as long as he possibly could might let them just unfold around him, like he’d roll over and you’d just be gone, no evidence left behind except for your hair in the drain. 

But you demand attention. Eddie might be obvious, but you demand attention. His attention, at least. 

He grabs the tape from you. “We’re not listenin’ to that bullshit. Try again.”

“Fine!” you snap, but there’s this irritating bemusement dancing around your face. 

You lean forward from your spot on the mattress and tug the milk crate between your calves. Now, this is more your lane– in here, Munson’s got the classics. Or as close to the classics as he will deign to recognise. Zeppelin, Sabbath, Alice Cooper, Blue Öyster Cult– the combination of which you have something borderline mean to say about, but you’ll leave that ‘til later. You dig around, and then.

And then. Hello there, handsome.

In your hands are twelve inches of beauty, belonging to a grisly-voiced Tom Waits. Blue Valentine. Straight to the record player with this old bastard.

“People give this record too much shit,” you remark, and Eddie watches you as you tentatively lift a sock off the turntable. Yeah, he’ll cop to it, he doesn’t take such good care of some of his gear, but sometimes his brain behaves like a police scanner. Lotta channels operating at once. Anyway. Doesn’t matter. He’s watching you lift the needle onto the vinyl right now. “People say that this is a mediocre addition to the oeuvre, but what is mediocre about this–!”

Rousing strings seep from the stereo speakers– it’s Waits’ cover of Somewhere from West Side Story. Eddie knows it within the first half a second because, and now he’ll never admit it since he knows you like it so much, he has played this album to death. 

Somewhere around the halfway mark of Christmas Card For a Hooker in Minneapolis, the record will skip because it's scratched. Or well-loved, if you ask Eddie. 

“Fucking Robert Christgau thinks he’s being funny, doing this, y’know,” you sneer, examining the record sleeve as if you hadn’t seen it thirty thousand times before. Your copy had been lost in the move, among a number of your little sonic secrets. The records you’d keep to listen to by yourself, lying on your bedroom floor. “As if the whole core of Tom Waits’ whole thing isn’t heartache, the sentimentality of what-if. What if we could, what if life wasn’t garbage. That’s sentimentality, right there. It’s West Side Story, I mean, c'mon. Tom Waits is singing to us with his heart on his sleeve, but Christgau wants to suddenly be pedantic, turn around and be like, it’s a vaudeville act! because Waits sometimes also wears his dick on his sleeve.”

It’s a tirade you’ve often repeated to yourself, in your diary or alone in your room, pretending like you’re on a panel, pretending like you’re Susan Sontag and people actually give a shit what you actually have to say. You can’t exactly figure why you’ve said it again now. Maybe because you always found the strings on this song too much to bear without emoting, and you’re already vulnerable and tired. 

Munson, for his part, has flipped over onto his back on the mattress. “Who?” he drones.

“Robert Christgau,” you say, momentarily distracted by the way his shirt has rucked up around his belly. No six pack. Some meat there. Tendons, like you’d noticed before. “Just one of the most seminal rock writers of our time.”

You have a well-thumbed copy of his Record Guide: Rock Albums of the Seventies somewhere in a still-unpacked box.

Munson has a happy trail that curls like brushstrokes.

“You fucking trifler,” you grumble.

His face takes on that terrible look that he’d given you in the record store, all enraptured and cloudy at the corners of his eyes. Looking at you from where he leans on his elbows, one knee propped up, rocking back and forth ever so slightly. You want to shove it back down. 

And see what he’ll do about that. 

“How do you know all this shit?” he asks. Eddie can’t help this. He can’t help that he keeps changing his channel about you (again, police scanner) because one second you’ll be such a massive pain in the ass, then the next, you’ll say something so clever that it’ll make him want to vomit. 

“I like music,” you say, flatly. You give it to him straight, because you suddenly feel searched. You clutch Waitsy’s printed face to your chest in an effort of self-defense. “And I like… words. Kind of makes sense that I would enjoy music journalism, if you’re not totally stupid.” 

“I’m only a little stupid.” 

“Debatable.” 

“Wait, but I mean–” and he’s gearing up, because Eddie is about to ask you a real question. Something that’s been on his mind, the more ice shavings he can tear off of you. Considering you, all three dimensions of you– four, if you add in how much you like to punch him and stuff. “You’re like, incredibly smart, right.”

“Yes.”

“Like, perfect grades.”

“Almost. Save Kaminsky, because he can’t teach for shit and he can’t grade for piss.”

“And you’re a cheerleader… like, an important one?”

“Artist formerly known as, but yes.”

“And you’re on the newspaper.” 

“Very perceptive, aren't we.”

“You’re also popular– or, yeah, were. You party and stuff. You’re always hanging out with those assholes who don’t do half the shit that you do.”

 “Are you closing in on a point here, Munson?”

“How?” he nearly whispers, tone close to dreamy. “You’ve gotta have like, body doubles running around or something because no human person could possibly have that much time in the day. How the fuck did you do all that and also be running around ready to cite, like, an issue of the New Yorker from 1975, and not go completely insane?”

How do you know I’m not completely insane. Because, if he had ever witnessed how Jekyll and Hyde you could get, smacking the shit out of yourself with your hairbrush before you could turn on and be Lacy the cheerleader, Lacy the hot chick, Lacy the playground bitch, he would think you are totally insane. 

You answer him half-straight this time. 

“Diet pills.”

This makes him sit up, and makes you take a couple of steps back towards the bed. You flop down, tossing the Blue Valentine sleeve to the side. 

“Diet pills,” he repeats. 

“Oohhh, yes,” you nod, drawing the shape of the cylindrical pills on his comforter with your finger. You don’t really want to look up at him. “Rainbow diet pills. Soon as I hit my menses, I started lifting them from my mom.” 

“Isn’t that stuff illegal?” Eddie murmurs out of the corner of his mouth, mimicking your criss-cross applesauce seating position. “It’s basically speed, right?”

“Said the drug dealer,” a snort bursts from you. You’ve moved your fidgeting, starting to braid your half-damp hair. “And it is. It’s fully speed. I was doing baby Valley of the Dolls at age thirteen.”

“That is fucked up, Lacy.” 

“Yeah. Well. I'm a little fucked up, or haven't you heard?” 

“There’s been rumblings.” Eddie watches your fingers work, weaving locks of hair, one over the other. He’s never braided his hair. He wonders what it might look like. You come to the end and twist it around your finger, at a loss for a hair tie. He sticks a finger under his leather and silver bracelet, digging out an elastic he keeps handy, just in case. There are a lot of times that Eddie needs to yank his hair out of his face just to focus. “Here.” 

You mouth a silent thanks and wind the elastic around the tuft of hair. Tom Waits whines away about rain washing memories from the sidewalks and you feel weirdly… at ease. You’ve shared a couple of rainbow diet pills with Nicole and Carol (Tina doesn’t mess with amphetamines, a consummate athlete), but you’ve never had anyone ask you how you’ve managed to be the person you’re pretending to be. 

To put the clues together about your impossible do-it-all identity.

And not react in disgust when he finds out you’re fallible. 

“Hey,” Eddie says. Something about hearing you rattle off, not sniping for once, saying something real… it eased the heartburn. It has loosened his tension around you, a little. He figures it’s his turn to say something real. “I’m sorry I called you evil.” 

Most evil twat at the twat table, you nearly correct. “You had grounds.”

“No, no, I didn’t. You–” this is actually harder for him to get out than he thought, “You’re trying. You’re trying really hard to make the best of a messed up situation, and maybe I should’ve seen that– but I didn’t, because it’s high school, and it’s dumb, and I’m trying too, and we’re all trying, just to survive this messed up microcosm of the world– and– and–" He huffs. It's you gazing at him this time. Eyes sparkling in the half-light cast by his bedside lamp. You're... really pretty. "Jesus, can you just forgive me so I can stop talking?”

“That’s a first,” you say. “Microcosm is a five dollar vocab word, Eddie.”

The way you say his name. “I’m a changed man.”

“Can you use adulation in a sentence next?” Your big grin is devastating.

He leans right into you, dastardly looking suddenly. “Is this provocation getting you hot, you psycho?”

Fingertips braced over your knees, your torso keening just the right amount of degrees to favor him, your stare making an unsubtle job of darting from Eddie’s lashes to his lips to his lashes to his lips… 

“Maybe.” A beat. A heavy beat. “What are you gonna do about it?” 

In any other world, with any other person, the wanting would completely make sense. Wanting him to say nothing more and just do, to plant a big, ringed hand either side of your hips and pull you into his lap. To crush his lips against yours. To dig his hands into your thighs, to wind your fingers into his hair. To feel the chill of silver traveling up, under the back of your borrowed shirt, to press down onto him and–

Hey Charlie, I almost went crazy-ayzy-ayzy-ayzy-ay–

Eddie doesn’t mean to, he really doesn’t mean to, but his head snaps away from you just as the record starts to skip. 

Then the door slams.

Fuck.

“Ed?”

Wayne.

He totally forgot to formulate that plan.

author's notes: ZOOWEE MAMA HOW WE FEELING ARE YOU STILL WITH ME longest chapter in the fic so far. thanks for keepin up. i love you, let's not waste any time, i don't think i've got a lot of notes for you this go around but i love you - there is nothing more secretly pretentious teenage girl than loving joan didion and susan sontag (i know this because i was her, i am her to this day in fragments) but particularly joan didion on keeping a notebook really sticks to one's ribs. this is not the last joan didion ref in this fic, sorry for being unbearable - stella adler, the mother of method acting - steve harrington being the originator of the nickname lacy is a tribute to him showing signs of being a goofy motherfucker from day dot. please see this post. it was always there, we just couldn't see it in freshman year because of all the hairspray - what's going on with tommy hagan? does anyone really care but me, probably not. but for those that are keeping tick on the timeline (don't)- he got held back senior year, hence why he did not graduate with steve and is in the same grade as eddie, lacy, carol, et al. - WICKED LITTLE TOWN!!!! - the stooges t-shirt is yet another flight of icarus pick; al wears a stooges shirt and i creamed because i love the stooges. let's listen to one of my favorites - loudness are a metal band from osaka, japan! they got signed to an american label in 1985, but how did eddie munson get that tape in hawkins, indiana in 1984? well, my theory is that eddie loves music and jerry from main street vinyl loves benzos. a trade's a trade's a trade. - reader, you are an 18y/o girl who thinks you're better than everyone. of course you're stealing lester bangs' opinions on blue oyster cult and making them your own - and shitting on robert christgau bc you've got a wetty for tom waits - also, here is tom waits' cover of somewhere! my theory on eddie being a tom waits fan-- of course he is, that man looks and sounds like billy goat gruff and is a storytella just like eddie is. he would especially be into his later stuff, like the megalithic orphans album. y'all remember this song from shrek 2 - rainbow diet pills were a real insane thing! this seems more accessible than adderall for the time period, which modern!lacy would certainly have been abusing - for the time that's in it, let me present tom waits' anti-christmas song, christmas card from a hooker in minneapolis my loves, if you've still stuck with me this far, i thank you greatly. i know i'm nutso but i'm having fun writing this fic. i would've been writing it if nobody was reading, but it's a billion times better now that you are. reblogs are always appreciated, and the inbox is always open to chat shit ♡

#published by powder #in progress #hellfire & ice #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fic #stranger things fic #e. munson by powder

[stvolanis]

Don’t Wanna Grow Up.

( one shot )

PAIRINGS: Rockstar! OC X Mean! Jim Hopper

WARNINGS: guys Hopper is really mean in this, small plot, OC is in a band (corroded coffin), she’s Eddie’s best friend/step-sister, age gap (OC is 19 and hops in his 40s), dubcon, drinking, usual rockstar things, OC is also kinda an asshole,nice jim at the end, hop being a cop (that rhymed lol)

NSFW INCLUDES: anal play, degradation (slut, brat, bitch), spitting, (hard) slapping, hair pulling, breeding kink, breath play, power play, size kink, manhandling, choking, oral (m receiving), praising (if you squint), heavy sir kink, humiliation, public sex (parking lot), p in v sex, overstimulation, cum eating, SORRY IF I MISSED ANYTHING<3

Istg I got horny while writing this so I hope y’all enjoy !!<3

please lmk if you guys are interested in a part 2!!

˚ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ˚

the night was lively and booming in the small town of Hawkins, Indiana. It was a big contrast to the usual boring nights that the locals were used to, and it was surely a huge difference for on-duty chief of police, Jim Hopper.

Rowdy teens were one thing, but full grown adults plus teenagers being loud and obnoxious was not how hopper wanted to spend his night. Of course the big commotion would only mean one thing, lots of paperwork and phone calls.

It was a Tuesday night. A school night. A work night, even. What could have possibly caused all this up roar in the town? This much disruption and constant noise complaint phone calls from a small, quiet and local bar were unusual. But, nonetheless, the chief loaded up in his cruiser and made quick work of heading to the busy bar.

Jim could hear the faint blaring music from down the road, much to his dismay. As he pulled in and got out of his car, slamming the door shut, he quickly took notice of the locals stumbling out of the bar drunkenly, hollering only god knows what as he watched one fall into a bush. It was gonna be a long night.

Hopper walked into the noisy bar and was instantly met with the smell of strong alcohol and must coming from the sweaty bodies dancing around in the crowd. Unfortunately, he could also smell the lingering remanence of throw up, cause his face to crinkle up in disgust. Suddenly, the bright stage that was flashing every color under the sun caught his attention.

Of course she would be what was causing all of this nonsense.

Blood red hair sticking up in all kinds of directions bounced up and down while singing wildly. One of her dainty, fishnet covered hands in the air as her other held a microphone. The deep red lipstick she was wearing was slightly smeared, as was her eyeliner and mascara. Her honey brown eyes peering over the crowd with a wicked smile dancing on her lips at the mess she’s stirred. The lead singer of Corroded Coffin, Cherrie.

A Highschool drop-out who was on the upcoming charts with her band, soon to be leaving the small town to start touring across America for a hefty price. A delinquent since she became friends with the Munson boy, who she’d met in the 5th grade after she stabbed him in the thigh with her pink pencil.

Cherrie was a force to be reckoned with, and Hop can’t even count on his fingers anymore how many times she’d spent the night in the county jail either high out of her mind or drunk on gin. She’d spent her whole life in and out of the system, till Eddie Munsons uncle, Wayne, decided he’d take her in. Her love for music started when she’d stumbled across Eddie’s massive music collection. Once Eddie got his guitar and she had a microphone in her hand, the rest was history.

The band started off as something they did for fun with their friends, but then it turned into something they couldn’t even imagine. Once their producer released their first album, it went flying off the shelves after about a lingering week of nothing. Before they knew it, they were ushered to go on tour in 2 weeks times. Cherrie always felt she was destined for more than the small town had to offer, but she could never quite place it till now. She had wanted an escape for as long as she can remember, and now that she finally had one, she wouldn’t be coming back anytime soon.

The small town she lived in seen the worst in her, even the ones who were much worse than her. The difference between them was that she wasn’t afraid to show it. She didn’t need to put up a facade for people, because they’d always just see her as the burnt out Highschool drop out. But when she was on stage, it was like she was on top of the world. For once, the people who’d whisper terrible things about her and spread ugly rumors were looking up at her and cheering their hearts out. It was a nice change. It was a euphoric feeling.

Cherrie was no stranger when it came to the male gaze, as she’d dealt with it since she was only about 14. It’s always made her uncomfortable, for sure, but after a while she’d learned how to use it to her advantage. So it was no surprise when she’d tried attempt to seduce Jim Hopper a few months prior when he’d threaten to lock her up for good. She’d ended up spending the night in a jail cell. Ever since then, Jim’s felt uneasy around the ball of fire. Almost afraid she’d pounce at any moment on him.

But right now, it was almost as if he was in a trance as he watched her body move enchantingly. The lighting made her deep olive skin appear more vibrant, and hopper could see the sweat dripping down her chest and into her open cleavage. She wore a tight strapless corset that was laced and a small mini skirt that was so short, he was sure if she turned around he’d be able to see her ass. The fishnets that adorned her arms and legs had skulls embroidered onto them, but hopper could still see her colorful Paul Stanley star-man tattoo on the side of her thigh.

The choker she wore had protruding spikes on it and the chains she wore along with it complimented her slim neck. Hopper instinctively locked his dry lips as he stared at her for a moment longer before their eyes connected, and he felt the hairs on his arm stand up and his back straighten.

Cherrie watched Hopper walked to the side of the stage with furrowed eyebrows as he unplugged Eddie’s amp and the strobe lights, effectively making everyone let out noises of confusion and annoyance. Cherrie rolled her eyes and groaned as she dropped the mic onto the ground angrily before hopping off of the stage, pushing her way through the crowd to get to Jim. Eddie was hot on her tail, trying to calm down the fire he could’ve swore he saw in her eyes begin to spark, but he was soon lost in the crowd as he called out to her.

“What the fuck are you doing, shithead?!” Cherrie yelled out as she stood in front of Jim. “Doin’ my job, Cherrie. But you always gotta make it harder f’me, huh?” He huffed out with annoyance as he pushed past her towards the crowd of rowdy people.

“Everyone out! Right now, unless you’d like to spend the night with me at the station.” He yelled to the crowd, who quickly dispersed. Many sending Hopper ugly glances, but he was too over everything to care. “No, this is my scene, why’d you have to come fuck it up?!” She said with a groan as she stood chest to chest with him, though she was much smaller than him.

“Noise complaints, from multiple people.” He replied dryly. “Why can’t you just stay out of trouble for 2 fuckin’ minutes, is it that hard?” He added with a scoff. Cherrie didn’t process what happened as she felt her fist connect with his cheek, wincing as she rubbed her knuckles before slowly looking back up at an angry chief.

“Shit—Wait—” she muttered as she tried backing away from him, but Hop wasn’t having it. He harshly gripped her upper arm before slamming her front into the wall. “Cmon, yknow I didn’t mean to.” She said as she tried to wiggle free from his tight hold. “Shut up, brat.” He replied through clenched teeth as he snapped his cuffs onto her wrists.

“Ow!” She shouted as the cuffs tightened around her wrists painfully. Hop ignored her please as he dragged her out of the now almost empty bar. Eddie was by his van as he watched Cherrie get taken out in handcuffs with a shake of his head and a frown. “M’ sorry, Eds!” She shouted to him across the parking lot with a shrug of her shoulders. Eddie sighed as their band loaded up their belongings into his car.

Hopper pushed her forward towards the car. “We ain’t stoppin’ for chit-chat.” He grumbled under his breath. Cherrie merely rolled her eyes in annoyance. “Asshole.” She muttered under her breath. Hopper gripped her wrists in the cuffs tighter and he watched as she winced in pain. “What was that? Hm?” He muttered lowly in her ear.

She could feel his warm breath against the shell of her ear, and that’s all it took for her body to feel like it’s on fire. His grip on her wrists and the way she could feel his crotch area brush against her ass as they walked to the car from how close they are had her body on edge. She bit her lip as he opened the backseat door for her before roughly shoving her in and slamming the door shut.

Hopper got in his seat and fumbled with his keys with a huff before starting his cruiser. “Yknow you’re kinda hot when you’re mad to me, chief.” Cherrie giggled as she batted her lashes. Hopper eyed her through the rearview mirror, his eyes briefly trailing down to her open cleavage that was now free of sweat before rolling his eyes and adjusting the mirror to see better behind him, but really it’s just so his boner wouldn’t further harden from the sight of her in cuffs in his back seat.

Cherrie giggled lightly as she made herself comfortable in the backseat as Jim began driving to the police station. And then an idea hit her. “Yknow, I always thought you were a pretty shitty cop.” She said aloud as she looked out the window with a smirk. “Excuse me?” Hopper said, taken slightly aback.

“You heard me. I don’t even know you you became chief—I mean, aren’t you always drinking on the job? Yet you wanna make me seem like I’m the worst person ever.” She scoffed out with an eye roll. Hopper slammed on the breaks, making Cherrie hurl forward, hitting the head rest with a loud ‘thud’.

“Shit—what the fuck, Hop?!” She yelled out with furrowed brows. Jim’s breathing was erratic and hit fists were white from gripping the steering wheel so hard. “Yeah? You think I’m a shitty cop? Alright, y’little bitch.” He muttered with a dark chuckle as he drove into an empty parking lot that was some what hidden behind trees.

“What’re you doin? you aren’t gonna kill me are you?” Cherrie giggled, feigning fear. Hopper didn’t respond as he parked the car and swung his door open, quickly opening Cherries too. “Hey—” she started, but was cut off when hopper gripped her upper arm tightly, yanking her out of her seat and onto the ground. Cherrie sat on her knees in front of the cop, looking up at him through her thick lashes.

“Y’gonna hurt me, Hop?” She challenged with raised brows and a taunting smirk. Hoppers hand harshly made contact with the side of her cheek, roughly slapping her, making her head spin to the side as a stinging pain overtook her cheek. Cherrie whimpered lightly, making Hopper chuckle. “Thought this was what you wanted, brat.” He said tauntingly as he gripped her hair, making her look up at him.

“Now here’s what’s gonna happen—” he started . “Y’gonna suck my cock like a good girl n then I’m gonna fuck that tight little cunt until I’m through with you, n maybe your ass if I feel like it. You’ve been a little bitch all night so don’t expect to fucking cum, y’hear me?” He stated as he peered down at her. Cherrie felt her pussy begin to ache with need, but this wasn’t how it was supposed to go. She wasn’t supposed to actually want him the way she does now.

Cherrie nodded and Hopper slapped her once again, but on her other cheek. “Words, slut.” He spit out. Cherrie moaned at the slap, making hopper chuckle. “Yes, sir.” She muttered as she bit down on her lip. Jim groaned at the name. “Good girl.” He praised as he began to unzip his pants, letting them fall to his knees.

Cherrie could see his large bulge and a small wet patch where his tip is that’s seeping through. “M’gonna teach you how to suck cock properly, little girl.” He said as he let his hard cock spring free, long and so thick. A vein ran along the underside of it and Cherries mouth watered at the sight, but she wasn’t gonna let up so easily. “S’ not gonna fit in my mouth. Don’t want it to.” She said.

“I don’t give a fuck, you act like a brat n’ you get treated like one.” He said as he slapped his cock against the side of her cheek with a smirk. He soon forced Cherries mouth open with his thumb and shoved his throbbing member down her throat without warning, making her gag aloud. Cherrie could feel her eyes watering as his cock hit the back of her throat with no mercy. It was getting hard to breathe, and it didn’t help when the mean man above her pinched her nose shut as he held his cock in the back of her throat with a loud groan.

After a few seconds he let her nose go and she released his throbbing dick, gasping for air, hee chest heaving. “Please—” she begged through breaths of air. Jim quickly shoved his cock back down her throat that was now becoming unbearably sore, along with her jaw. She moaned around his cock as she began to grind her sopping cunt against the chiefs freshly polished boots.

Hopper felt his end coming near at the sight it. “Look at you— h-humping my boot l-l-like a bitch in heat.” He moaned at through clenched teeth as he watched her mascara and eyeliner run down her cheeks from her tears that he caused. The way she feverishly humped against his boot harder after his comment made him cum down her throat with a groan and a string of ‘fuckkk, just like that’ and ‘so fuckin good’.

Cherries senses were overwhelmed as she tasted him down her throat and on her tongue. Salty, but not bitter. Hopper slightly pulled out and released the rest of his cum on her tongue that was hanging outside of her mouth with a satisfied moan. Cherrie made quick work of swallowing his generous load. “Whaddya say, baby?” He mocked.

“Thank you for your cum, sir.” Cherrie said as she gripped at his leg, her panty covered pussy still dripping on his boot. “Needy little girl, aren’t you, Cherrie?” He asked as he clicked his tongue. She nodded and muttered a small ‘yes, sir’ as he surprisingly, gently pulled her up from the ground. Hopper gripped Cherries throat and pulled her face close to his, just enough to where their lips were brushing against each other.

“‘M gonna fuck you so good.” He muttered, and Cherrie groaned as he lips finally crashed with his. The kiss was messy and heated, and their teeth clashed together as did their tongues. They fought for dominance, but Jim over powered her as his tongue danced with hers. “Fuckkk, y’taste so good.” He groaned against her as his grip on her slim throat tighten just above her spiked choker that he adored so much on her.

He opened her mouth before spitting into it, his boner growing larger as he watched her swallow it obediently. It was just something about making her go from a bratty, loud, rude and arrogant little girl to a submissive, hot mess with not much to say now that made Jim Hopper go absolutely fucking feral. The need to be inside of her hurled into his senses as he dragged her to the front of his cruiser, bending her over the hood.

Jim got down onto his knees, now eye level with her wet, fishnet covered baby pink panties with lace on the trim of it. “So cute, baby.” He muttered as he kissed the flesh of her ass before gripping both cheeks in his large hands. He pressed his nose into her panties and inhaled her scent deeply, his dick throbbing at the smell of her arousal. Cherrie whimpered as his nose brushed against her aching clit as she tried to wiggle her pussy even closer to his face.

Hopper chuckled at his needy girl and licked a long stripe over her panties. Cherrie let out a pornographic moan as he sucked her panty covered clit into his mouth. “Please, sir, ‘m sorry for bein’ a bad girl, need you so bad. promise I’ll be good.” She whined out as her eyes began to water again.

“Since you asked so nicely f’me, whore.” He said as though he were pondering it. He stood up and easily towered over the small girl bent over the hood of his car as he ripped her fishnets big enough to wear he could push her panties to the side. He groaned as he watched her slick drip out of her pussy and down her thighs. “Hop, my fishnets..” she muttered breathlessly.

“I’ll buy you new fishnets, baby, whatever you want.” He muttered as leaned over and kissed her shoulder. He slapped her ass, once, twice, just to watch it jiggle against the impact before spreading her ass once again to get a better view of her pussy. “So wet..” he murmured to himself as he slapped her gently slapped her cunt, making her let out a soft groan.

Hopper aligned his massive cock to her entrance and pushed in forcefully before pausing for a moment to get the smaller girl used to his size. Her cunt squeezed around him in a vice grip, almost painfully as he hissed. Cherrie moaned as she felt him fill her small cunt to the brim, kissing her cervix. She could feel him throbbing inside of her, begging to move.

“Please, sir—” she started, and Jim wasted no time in pulling out just to slam back into her again, causing Cherrie to let out a gasp. Hopper began pounding into the red haired girl, one of his hands gripping her wrists that were still in handcuffs while the other harshly smacked her ass hard enough to leave a deep red hand print, making Cherries eyes water.

Her eyes rolled to the back of her head as she moaned out loud ‘uhs’ each time he slammed back into her. As his pace began to gradually increase, the sweaty sound of skin slapping together could be heard throughout the parking lot and Jim felt like he was on cloud 9. Her cunt was so warm and tight. Almost as if she were a virgin.

Hop imagined her stomach swollen and her breasts enlarged and swollen with milk. How she’d become domesticated and obedient, much to his pleasure. He imagined her whimpers and moans as he’d fondle her nipples and squeezed the bundle of nerves just to watch the milk come out of them.

His hips slammed into hers harder and faster, taking Cherries breath away as her moans were uncontrollable and throat sore. Her mind was blank and all she could think about was the way he was filling her up. “Like the way I fuck you, hm? Stuffin’ this little pussy just the way you like.” The older man said as he threw his head back with a loud moan.

God, she loved how vocal he was. It made her pussy clench around him as she felt her orgasm approaching. “Sir—‘m gonna cum, gonna cum, oh my god—” she moaned out, her voice a higher pitch as she whined at the stimulation. Hopper sounded almost animalistic as he let out a what sounded close to a growl. “I told you you’re not gonna fuckin’ cum, you hear me?” He said through pants. Cherrie could tell he was being serious, but she just couldn’t hold it.

“please, ‘m sorry, sorry, I c—ca—can’t hold it.” She gasped out as her mouth formed into an ‘O’ shape as her orgasm slammed into her. Cherrie squirted all over Jim’s lower body, making him let out a groan. “Fuckkk..” he groaned out again. Cherrie thought Hopper would let up since she’d already came, but it seemed like the man had other plans.

Her pussy was so sensitive as he continued his brutal thrusts in and out with no remorse to her aching cunt. “please—stop, I can’t—“ she begged loudly as she tried to push her cuffed hands against his lower stomach, weakly trying to push him away from her but failing miserably. “No, you wanted to cum so you’re gonna fuckin cum for me as many times as I tell you to.” He said as he watched her ass jiggle each time his hips hit hers.

Hopper moved his hand that was around her wrist to her ass cheek, spreading it before spitting down into her puckered hole. He used his thumb to smear around his saliva before he slowly pushed it in, making Cherrie hiss out in pain. “This is what little girls who don’t listen get. They get their assholes used and violated.” He said with a chuckle as he began to fuck her tight ass with his thumb.

Broken moans left her throat as she felt herself go cross eyed, body shaking at the stimulation of her clit dragging against the hood of the car with each violent thrust delivered to her over-used cunt, paired with his thumb fucking into her ass made her orgasm quickly approach again.

“Sir, ‘m gonna cum, please let me cum, please, please, please!” She yelled out like it was a chant. Hopper bit down harshly on his lip, drawing blood before speaking. “Hold on, ‘m almost there, slut.” He huffed out as his thrusts became erratic and sloppy. “Y’want me to cum in this pussy? Make you nice n’ full? Make you all nice n swollen with my fuckin’ babies?” He moaned out.

“Yes, yes, yes, oh my god, need your cum, please cum in me. Need it so bad.” She moaned out, drunk on his cock that was drilling into her now more sloppy. “Yeah? Fuck , yes. Cum f’me right now, Cherrie. Cum f’me.” He repeated over and over till she squirted all over his cock for a second time, her body shaking and spasming with each dragging thrust he blew.

His hips stilled as his cock stuffed her full, and she could feel him getting soft inside of her before lazily pulling out. Hopper dropped down to his knees again and began licking up both of their release from her hole, savoring the taste of her juices that were now dripping down the starved man’s chin, making his beard sticky. “Oh my god.” Cherrie moaned as her legs shook violently at the harsh overstimulation of him fucking his cum back into her pussy with three of his large fingers.

Jim let up and slapped her cunt a few times for safe measures before he grabbed the keys to her handcuffs and took them off. Hopper put her panties back in place to make sure none of his valued cum can get out of her used cunt. He let her body fall limp against him as he picked her up bridal style as he opened the passenger door, gently putting her in.

“‘M takin’ you to my house, baby. Gon’ take good care of you, Cherrie.” He murmured gently as he kissed her temple. Cherrie nodded and blushed madly at his gentle, loving tone. A tone no one besides Wayne or Eddie used for her.

Maybe Jim Hopper wasn’t so bad after all.

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