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strangersmunsons · 3 months

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Eddie, My Love! eddie munson x reader // valentine's day special series Day 2 Prompt: Chocolates 🍫 ~ 2,000 words Eddie's grumpy until he sees a familiar face in the candy aisle.

“This is a fake holiday,” mumbles Eddie as he pushes the cart past the pink and red aisle of Bradley’s Big Buy.

His uncle chuckles. “When you have someone to spend it with, you’ll feel differently.”

“Wayne,” Eddie deadpans, “this is just some bullshit that Hallmark made up so they could take more of our money.”

“I’m not sayin’ you need to go all commercial,” Wayne clarifies. “I just mean that when there’s someone special in your life, boy, you might be in a better mood during this month.”

Eddie’s mouth sets bitterly. He’d rather not get the ‘you’ll find someone someday’ talk right now — the last thing he needs is another reminder of how lonely he is.

Wayne senses his nephew’s reluctance to discuss the matter, and so bites his tongue. Instead, he points at a row of cans on the shelf beside them. “Do you need more tomato soup, or are you set for a while?”

Back at home, Eddie lays on the floor of his bedroom, staring at the ceiling. Yeah, okay, maybe Wayne had a point. Maybe he’d hate all this stupid cutesy shit less if he didn’t have to watch everyone around him enjoy it while he spent yet another Valentine’s Day alone in his uncle’s trailer, with no one to keep him company, save for a six-pack of Pabst Blue Ribbon.

The worst part of it is — and Eddie would rather die than admit this — that deep down, he thinks he really could be…romantic.

Sure, he’s rough around the edges. He tends to be prickly, wary of others’ intentions, but it’s necessary in order for him to survive in Hawkins. The Munson name was already notorious, and his reputation preceded him; the incident with poor Chrissy Cunningham three years prior, despite his innocence, had sealed his fate as the town pariah.

But if someone could just give him a chance, a real chance, he thinks that he could make that person really happy.

He’d help around the house. Cleaning, laundry, anything you — whoever you are — needed a hand with. He’d learn to cook better so he could keep you eatin’ good. He’d plan fun dates. He’d play your favorite songs on guitar, maybe write you new ones, if he was feeling inspired…anytime you needed him, he’d be there. He’d be the most reliable, affectionate, loving —

“Ed?” There’s a light knock on his door.

“Come in,” he calls back.

Wayne pokes his head into the room. “I’ve got to head to the plant in a few,” he says. “While I’m gone, can you do me a favor?”

Eddie sits halfway up, propped on his elbows. “Yeah, what’s up?”

Wayne fidgets, looking apologetic. “I know we were just there, but d’you mind going back to the Big Buy to pick up some candy? It’s Mrs. Johnson’s first Valentine’s Day since her husband passed, and I meant to get her something sweet, but I forgot.”

Eddie hauls himself up off the floor. “No problem. Want anything specific?”

Wayne shakes his head. “Don’t need nothin’ fancy, just get whatever’s cheapest that still looks nice.”

“That’s the Munson way,” Eddie muses, smiling in spite of himself.

Eddie reluctantly makes a turn down the seasonal aisle he had so pointedly avoided earlier, feeling depressed. Cherubs and teddy bears seem to mock him from where they sit, and he heaves a dramatic sigh.

His eyes roam the line of cards, plush toys, endless boxes of chocolates and candies, when they finally land on you, also perusing the rows of heart-shaped packages.

Recognition flickers instantly. Eddie suddenly finds that his heart is beating very quickly in his chest.

You.

You had still been a year behind him when he finally graduated, and though he didn’t really know you-know you, he was friends with people who did. You weren’t bullied like he and the guys were, but you weren’t exactly popular, either — and so more often than not, you ran in similar circles. Gareth and Harry used to swear up and down that you were the nicest girl in Hawkins.

Because of them, he had spent brief moments with you from time to time. He thought you had been very pretty, in your own unique way, but you were also rather shy. Your exchanges were always polite and charming, even if they never broke deeper than surface-level; overall, he’d found you incredibly endearing.

He never kept in touch, but as the years went by, he had often wondered about you.

Back then, it was hard to see past his own preoccupations: he was so focused on not failing his classes, Corroded Coffin, Hellfire, his dealing gig with Rick. But in retrospect, it always seemed to him like he had missed out on something special in not taking the time to properly befriend you.

Now, against all odds, you’re right here in front of him. And he had found you attractive back then, but now? Holy shit. You’re striking to look at.

As he studies your side profile, he thinks, it’s not that your appearance has really changed much, but rather the way you seem to be holding yourself.

You used to walk quickly through the hallways with your shoulders hunched and your head down, like you were trying to make yourself as small as possible. But now your posture is relaxed, your stance casual; your head is held high and a slight smile turns up the corners of your lips. And your clothes seem different too, like maybe you’d finally found your personal style, and were dressing in the way that you truly liked.

Is this what they call kismet? Fate, destiny, whatever, maybe Eddie’s fantasy-oriented brain was jumping to conclusions, but he thinks of the floor-misery he’d been wallowing in not even an hour ago — had his internal bitching been an unintentional prayer, which was now being answered?

He takes a few cautious steps forward, trying to act natural.

You glance at him when he comes nearer and offer him a quick smile before turning back to the sweet assortment before you.

Eddie stands next to you awkwardly, pretending to browse, hoping to see you make some gesture of familiarity, any confirmation that you might remember him as well as he remembers you.

But nothing. The seconds tick by.

You reach for a box of chocolates and Eddie’s overwhelmed with a sense of impending doom. He starts sweating. Any second now, you would pluck a shiny, ribbon-adorned package and twirl away from him, vanishing into thin air, and the moment would be gone. His opportunity would be over, and he’d never, ever see you again.

“I’m so sorry,” he blurts out. His face turns crimson, but he blunders on anyway. “I don’t wanna bother you, but did you graduate from Hawkins High in ‘87?”

You turn to him, eyebrows raised in surprise, one arm still outstretched. A breathy laugh escapes you. “Yeah, I did.” You give him the tiniest wave. “Hi, Eddie.”

He could almost cry in relief. You do remember him.

“Hi.” He returns your wave, dopey grin unfurling on his face.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to ignore you just now. I didn’t think you would remember me,” you explain apologetically.

Forget you? Absurd. “Of course I remember you. How’ve you been?”

Your voice is bright, cheerful. “I’ve been good! Busy with school.”

College, of course. You had definitely been an honor roll kid. “If you’re in school, then you don’t still live in town, do you?”

“Nah, my university’s too far. I got a place near campus, but I come home every now and then.” You smile, and motion towards yourself. “Obviously.”

“Oh. Nice.” Eddie twiddles his thumbs nervously. “Are your classes going good?”

“For the most part. They’re stressful sometimes, but that’s to be expected, I guess.”

“Yeah, but you’re super smart. I’m sure you’re killin’ it up there.”

“I’m trying my best,” you reply with a modest shrug. “What about you? What have you been up to lately?” You look at him with genuine interest, like you’re truly eager to hear about how he’s doing.

Oh, what to say. He opts for simplicity. “Bartending. At the moment I’m between The Hideout and The Attic. Although, I’m thinkin’ about trying to get a job at the garage instead.”

“You should!” Your voice is sincere, full of warmth. “I bet you’d be great there — I know you did a lot of work on your van.”

A bolt of pleasure runs through him. You didn’t just remember his name and face, but you recalled some minor details about him as well. He stands a little taller. “Thank you. We’ll see if it works out, I suppose.”

There’s a brief pause. Eddie moistens his chapped lips with his tongue. “Listen…”

Do it, you coward. If she says no, she says no, and you’ll get over it. Eventually.

“Um, if you’re ever home for the weekend, would you maybe wanna hang out? Grab a coffee or something?”

You look taken aback, but not displeased. Eddie counts that as a win.

“Sure. That would be really fun.”

He flashes you a grin. “Sick.” Then it occurs to him: you came home for Valentine’s Day weekend. Surely you’re in Hawkins because you have a date lined up with some former classmate who swooped in and asked you out after he had gone, and that’s who you were buying candy for and —

“I’m assuming you’re busy this weekend, though?” You point at the treats in front of you. “‘Cause I see you’re here to pick up the goods,” you tease him cheerfully.

“Oh, n-not really,” he stammers. “Wayne asked me to pick up something for our neighbor. I’m just an errand boy.” He swallows. “Do you have any big plans?”

“Nope,” you reply casually, lips popping the p-sound. You pull the candy you’d be aiming for before he interrupted, a pack of Hershey’s cream-filled chocolate hearts. You nod at him sagely. “I am my own Valentine this year.”

You don’t need to be. I’ll volunteer.

Eddie musters up all his courage, rocking slightly on his feet. “Actually, if you don’t have plans…like, if you’re not seeing anybody…would you wanna go out on a date with me tomorrow?” Nerves get the better of him and he starts pouring out word-vomit, totally oblivious to the way your expression is getting softer and softer the longer he rambles. “I get that it’s Valentine’s Day, I don’t know if you think that’s really…weird for a first date, or…if you even wanna go on a date with me at all, which if you don’t, that’s totally fine and I understand —”

“I don’t think that would be weird at all,” you cut in, giving him a smile that could melt an iceberg. “Eddie, I would love to go on a date with you.”

He feels like he’s having a fever dream. This can’t be real. Is this what manifesting is?

From now on, when he wants something, he’s gonna go cry on his bedroom floor about it.

Painfully aware of how clumsy his proposition came out, Eddie tries to put at least one suave move on you. “Well, if we really have a date tomorrow,” he says, swiping the Hershey’s from you, “then there’s no reason for you to be buyin’ your own chocolates. Allow me.”

Ten minutes later, both of you armed with candies and a phone number apiece, Eddie escorts you across the icy parking lot to your car. You grip his arm tightly crossing over a slippery patch of asphalt, and his stomach flutters in a way it hasn’t in years.

Okay, okay.

Maybe there is something to be said for this stupid, fake holiday.

thank you for reading!! xoxo Valentine's Day Special Masterlist

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson reader insert #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson comfort #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader

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strangermarvelss · 2 years

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prom- e.m

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Cheerleader!Reader

Summary: you ask eddie munson to prom

Warnings: angst bro, unrequited feelings, eddie being a butthead, chrissy is not the villain i promise, not proof read oops

Request: No

Word Count: 2k

A/N: got inspired by this idea @ashwhowrites threw out there about wanting something like this made, so i thought why not give it a shot? plus i've been trying to find an excuse to write an eddie prom fic. enjoy- sava

part two

You look to the stage seated at the end of the cafeteria briefly, seeing the big banner advertising the senior prom, making your heart flutter. The Hawkins High prom was the one time of year where everyone isn’t completely miserable and they all come together, cliques having an unspoken settlement, and allowing one another to come together and celebrate one of the last big moments of high school you’d all share together, before walking the stage made on the football field and going your separate ways on new journeys. Everyone had been buzzing about it for weeks, and you thought today would finally be the day.

You smooth out the pleats in your skirt, taking deep breaths in and out as you slowly approached his lunch table. The loud ruckus of the cafeteria filled your ears as your feet brought you closer and closer to the biggest outcast of the school. Not that you saw him that way, but everyone you surrounded yourself with did.

Eddie Munson has been the object of your affection since his first senior year. His beautiful brown eyes ultimately pulled you in one day during your sophomore year, seeing how much he’d changed from his brief time with you at the middle school amazed you. You were captivated by his passionate personality and his carefree attitude towards the conformity that was forced within the walls of this high school, which you were not able to escape, roped into joining the cheer squad with your best friend and the queen of Hawkins High, Chrissy Cunningham.

The two of you met when you moved to Hawkins back in middle school. She was the first person you met when you got to the school, getting paired to sit next to her for the remainder of the year, and the two of you clicked instantly. You spent so many nights together giggling and gossiping, and it was something you continued to do throughout high school. The two of you told each other everything, especially when it came to your dating lives, or lack there of.

She was the only one who knew about your crush on Eddie. You always felt you had to keep quiet about it, especially around the other cheerleaders and football players. Their clouded judgement and resentment towards the ‘freaks’ made your heart sink, but you always opted to keep your head down and refuse to join in on their reign of terror towards them.

Chrissy convinced you to ask Eddie in the first place. You were hesitant, wanting to continue to keep your feelings towards the resident metalhead deep down, with graduation around the corner for you, and if what Eddie shouted in the cafeteria constantly, it was approaching for him as well. You didn’t see the point in revealing anything now, thinking you could just go about life without him knowing. But Chrissy was there to remind you “what do you have to lose?”

Approaching the well-known Hellfire table, you cough a little to gain the attention of the boys. They all look up at you at the same time, sharing glances with one another as confusion seeped into their faces. You flash them all a timid smile, playing with the end of your cheer skirt to relieve some nerves.

“Hi guys,” you squeak out. You watch Eddie sit at the head of the table, looking down out his bag of mini pretzels and grabbing his bright red apple, taking a big chomp out of it.

“Uh, can we help you?” A younger boy with long black hair asks, whom you recognize as Nancy Wheeler’s brother, Mike. Blood rushes to your cheeks, heat overpowering you just for a minute as they all continue to stare at you with their mouths slightly open.

“Yeah! I was uh-just wondering if I could talk with you, Eddie. Alone?” you ask, your eyes meeting his across the table as he freezes, a small sliver of pretzel hanging out of his mouth. He drops the bag to the table and looks to who you knew as Gareth, standing from his seat with wide eyes. You walk towards the corner of the cafeteria, not missing the snickers and mumbles coming from his friends.

You turn to look at Eddie, his hands resting in the pockets of his leather jacket as he finally catches up to you. His big brown eyes peer up to you, his brows raised in a questionable manner, making the nerves spread further throughout your body. Maybe this was going to be a mistake-

“Just so you know, I don’t do deals in the middle of the cafeteria, so if you’re looking for something to clear your head, you’ll have to go to the spot in the woods,” Eddie lets out.

“What? No, I’m not looking for drugs, I don’t-I don’t smoke,” you tell him, shaking your hands. Did it look like you were trying to buy? Eddie was the local dealer, so it wasn’t totally out of the question.

“Okay…” he responds, rolling his eyes as he snickers to himself. You bite your lip before letting out a deep breath. “Then what did you want?”

“Okay, so, this might sound crazy, but I wanted to know if you were going to prom?” You finally ask. Eddie’s expression falters a little, his questioned look quickly shifting into a surprised one, as if caught off guard.

“Wasn’t really planning on it. After school events that don’t consist of D&D gatherings aren’t exactly my thing,” he answers. You try hiding the hurt in your expression at his answer, his ability to write it off so quickly making your confidence shrink.

“Oh…well, maybe you’d reconsider? Like say if someone were to ask you to go with them, as their date? And hypothetically that someone…being me?”

He takes a moment to just stare at you, blinking rapidly a few times before looking around the cafeteria, making you worried, but also confused. He seemed rather off today, with his eyes barely meeting yours unless met with confusion or surprise now, and his entire demeanor even felt off.

Then, he begins to laugh.

Was he laughing at you? Or the question? Or maybe what everyone said about him was right, he was crazy.

“Yeah well like I said earlier, I don’t do prom. And I definitely don’t do cheerleaders, so associating with both at the same time isn’t in the cards for me. So just go back to your friends, okay?” His voice was almost sinister, face merely inches from yours as he whispers the blatant reject in your ear.

You take a step back from him and catch the seriousness etched across his face, looking to the floor in an attempt to hide the hurt his words caused you to feel. You bump pass him as you continue your efforts of hiding your feelings, walking towards the double doors located closest to you that bled out into the hallway, no longer having an appetite for any food.

All but running to your locker, you fling it open and make yourself small, hunching over into the metal box and covering your face as the tears begin to flow out. You should’ve never taken Chrissy’s advice and kept those feelings buried deep inside. Of course he wouldn’t like someone like you. Even if you didn’t fit in with the other cheerleaders on the squad, he still associated you with the assholes of Hawkins High, and part of you couldn’t blame him. They’ve spent years treating him like shit, and you’ve been too much of a coward to do or say anything in his defense.

What hurt worse was that Eddie and you were on good terms. The two of you shared Miss Click’s class last year, alongside Steve Harrington and Robin Buckley, two of your closest friends. Eddie would ask for your help and the two of you would talk while trying to get him through the assignments he struggled with, which launched your tiny crush into a full blown one-sided love affair. You thought maybe he saw you differently than the rest of the squad, with you and Chrissy always trying to exchange pleasantries and on friendly terms with the metalhead. But deep down, Eddie still knew all jocks were the same, it was clear in the way he spoke to you.

The lunch bell springs to life, pulling you out of your lonely pity party. You look to the mirror you kept in your locker and clean up the makeup that was running down your cheeks with a spare tissue. Taking a deep breath, you grab your books for the remainder of your classes and shut the door to your locker, turning on your heel with you head hung just a bit lower than usual, and darting your way through the crowded halls, onto the rest of the pathetic day.

You push open the doors the led to the parking lot, your peers scattered around trying to escape for the weekend, only to ultimately come back later tonight for the game. Running down the steps, you start the journey towards your car, wanting to relax for the next few hours before you and Chrissy come back for the championship game.

The school day had flown by, the cruel gods above you taking pity on your rejection during your lunch period. You hadn’t talked with Chrissy for the rest of the day, not having any classes with her after lunchtime anyways. You want to run to her so badly and tell her you shouldn’t have listened to her, but ultimately, you just wanted a shoulder to cry on and soothing words thrown your way.

As you walk towards your car at the end of the lot, you spot Eddie leaning up against his van, the flashbacks from earlier telling you to look away from his figure, but your heart and eyes just can’t seem to listen. As you keep going, you see other pair of feet with him, almost between his own. Getting a better look, you see Chrissy leaning against the van as well, her close proximity making your heart plunge deeper into the depths of your stomach.

No, she’d never be interested in Eddie like that. She was in a very serious relationship with Jason Carver, a.k.a the biggest tormentor towards your crush. Plus, she was your best friend, and new how fondly you thought of Eddie, she couldn’t possibly want to ever hurt you like that. Keeping your head down, you attempt to walk pass them, completely unnoticeable, until your ears perk up at their conversation.

“I was just wondering, if you’d want to go to prom with me?” He asks her, causing you to drop the notebook you’d been carrying in your hand. Shit.

You reach down to grab the book and look back to see them staring at you, as if they were deer caught in headlights in the dead of night. You let out a sigh and pick up the pace towards your car, unlocking the door quickly and tossing your things inside as you ignore Chrissy’s calls out for you.

“…I don’t do prom. And I definitely don’t do cheerleaders…” his words rang in your head as you start the engine, looking behind you to back up and pull out of your spot. You quickly glance their way, faces turned into sad expressions as they watch you fly by them, trying your best to exit the hell that was the high school parking lot.

A few tears began escaping once more, trickling down your cheeks as you replay the events of today on your drive home. How could Eddie be so quick to reject you, with the excuse of not liking the idea of prom or associating with cheerleaders, but completely do a 180 and ask Chrissy, the girl who everyone knew you were best friends, to the prom? Maybe when he told you his words in the lunch room, he meant specifically it was you he had no interest in. Because who can resist the queen of Hawkins High.

You continue to wallow throughout the drive home, the tightness in your chest never letting up even as you pull into the driveway of your home. Jumping out, you leave your belongs inside the car as you lock it, running to the front door and swinging it open. You had time before the game tonight to mop about as you please, so you grab a bag of popcorn and put it in the microwave, waiting patiently to start the pity party you pressed pause on at your locker, wanting to just forget silly notion of you going to prom with the man of your dreams.

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cream0fwheat1998 · 3 months

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Girl from the Band 1 (Yandere!Jason Carver x Band Geek!Reader)

WARNINGS: dark, yandere, non-consensual intimacy (next chapter), maybe death (haven't decided yet), violence

This was random but honestly I think Mason Dye is a very handsome man so I really wanted to make a Jason Fanfic

Alternate AU but still 80's, No upside down fantasy stuff.

(Y/N) held her trumpet at attention while during the anthem which was sung by a previous student that has since graduated. Y/n rolled her eyes; she remembered Tammy Thompson from a science class long ago.

"This girl has no talent, why are they letting her perform?" y/n said under her breath but a laugh to her left caught her attention.

Robin Buckley shook her head with a smile on her face. For some reason, this made y/n feel warm. She was happy that she had made someone smile, even though she barely knew Robin and Robin's group of odd-ball friends outside of band.

How weird that Robin hung out with Steve Harrington; a man that graduated last year but still hang out with high school kids. Y/n shook her head, feeling sour at her own bitchy thoughts. People are allowed to have friends and just because she didn't have any, didn't mean she could judge everyone else for it.

When the game ended, all of the Hawkins Students fled to the courtroom to celebrate with the Basketball team on their win. Specifically, everyone cheered for Lucas Sinclair who'd made the winning shot and even though Y/n wasn't much of a participator; she found herself cheering along with her classmates.

It was until an object bounced infront of her, pulling y/n out of her own daze. A basketball had flown its way to her and one of the players rushed to her to collect it.

Jason Carver was a handsome guy. A classically handsome highschool athlete you'd see in any John Hughes movie. Y/n felt her cheeks warm at the thought of him coming towards her, looking her in the eye. It was an intimate feeling that she wasn't use too. She felt weak not wanting to look him in the eye but felt she lacked the type of beauty he'd want to look at.

"Sorry about that; it's the championship game-ball and we lost it in the celebration." Jason said, grabbing the ball from y/n's feet.

His voice was deep and warm; his damp hair sticking to his moist skin reminded her of a model posing by the sea. He was a dream and she lived in reality.

"It's okay." Y/n said, staring at the ground. She didn't feel like making eye contact.

Jason chuckled while heading back to his team; he'd seen this girl before but had no interest moving forward; his girlfriend was the queen of Hawkins High anyway. Chrissy Cunningham. For some reason, she was nowhere to be seen since the ending of the game.

The following week, Y/n had noticed Jason's demeanor change. Once a confident, prideful man to callous, irritated ass. You'd think he'd be at his best since the big win but instead he's acting like he lost completely. In Jason's perspective; he did.

Chrissy Cunningham had been hand in hand with one of Jason's basketball friends down the hallway. Clearly, they were still in the honey moon stage of their affair. It wasn't an adult kind of affair; Chrissy had broken up with Jason the night of the game for someone who'd swept her off her feet in his absence.

Y/n kept her opinions to herself, even during lunch when the loud whispers from all the lunch room increased at either Jasons or Chrissy's appearance. However, even with an increased attitude Jason kept his cool. He had to; his reputation depended on it. Sure, his first real love tore out his heart and stomped on it on what was supposed to be one of the happiest days of his life; but he considered himself the man of the school. He'd be damned if he didn't hold his head up high and looked for a replacement soon.

If Chrissy could move on within seconds, so could he. He felt himself getting heated; looking at the other girls in the school. While they werent Chrissy, he knew he could find someone to love him just as much. There were 2 obstacles;

There was only 1 Chrissy Cunningham.

He'd have to pick someone who respected his position as top-dog but it seemed like most of the girls in school were laughing at him now.

It was Study Hall. Y/n had been planning out an idea. She didn't want to graduate this year without doing something new and had been researching DnD for the past few months. There was a Dnd club called Hellfire ran by an eccentric classmate of hers' Eddie Munson. Yeah he was cute too. But Y/n didn't WANT to think about that; she just wanted to do what she wants and then graduate. Don't cause attention, don't put yourself out there. Those were her rules.

However; it wasn't up to her to not stand out as Jason Carver had remembered her genuine shyness from gameday. It was cute and honest. So many girls in school pretend to be cool or bitchy to seem higher class without realizing that they were just unpleasant rather than interesting.

Looking at her, Jason really believed there was something there and was determined to make her his arm piece for the rest of the year. In the deepest parts of his mind he decided y/n had no choice.

part 2

#dark!Jason Carver #Yandere jason carver #stranger things #bully!Jason #Steve Harrington #Eddie Munson #Yandere! Stranger Things #dark!steve harrington #dark!eddie munson #billy hargrove #max hargrove #dnd #yandere male

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the-case-book-of-fanfiction · 2 years

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Not Quite Dead

Ship: Eddie x fem!reader

Summary: You find yourself alone in Hawkins, a town ripped to shambles despite the sacrifices made to save it. Is it better or worse that Eddie doesn't live to see it? He'll tell you himself.

Word Count: 6,085

Warnings: angst, fluff, mentions of Eddie's fate s4e9, not-quite-flashbacks, a tiny bit of a plot, implied (years previous) sex

Notes: This story takes place after season 4. Reader is Eddie's longtime girlfriend.

☟ Continue below the fold ☟

Maybe it was best he had no gravestone. The whole town would deface it if he had one. You could see it in your head: tiny little carrots like the ones your English teachers used to mark your papers with, except the carrot would change the name engraved to Eddie 'the freak' Munson. Or maybe they'd just spray paint over his name, or even try to scrape it off, and just write 'the freak' in its place. Or 'murderer' or 'cult leader' or whatever insane shit they thought he was. There would be pentagrams, disgusting graffiti, everything that shouldn't be on his grave—but already decorated his missing posters—would find a home there.

So maybe it was better that there was nothing to commemorate him. But it hurt, just a little bit, to see graves for Chrissy, for Fred, for Patrick—but nothing for the hero of Hawkins.

Not that it meant much to be the hero of Hawkins. There was a line at a constant stand-still leading out of the town, most people desperate to get out of it. Those that stayed lived in fear and muttered about how the Devil had finally come to drag Hawkins to Hell. The ground was still broken and sunk in from the ruptures that had healed only slightly—just enough to no longer be glowing scars in the ground leading directly into what really was Hell.

Everyone was speculating what the cave-ins were. Some people said it was from an earthquake, and that was the most popular theory. Some said it was the result of Satanic activity, and those were the people that defaced Eddie's posters. Some said it wasn't quite Satanic, but definitely paranormal.

You knew what it was. You couldn't talk about it. Not because you alone knew what it was—your friends, the kids who had gravitated toward Eddie and the recent Hawkins graduates who hadn't actually gotten a graduation, knew what had happened. They knew what the ruptures were. They had been trying to get you to join in on their conversations and talk to them about the ruptures, what you had seen in the Upside Down.

But you couldn't talk about it. They knew why. It had taken you almost two months before you could even say your boyfriend's name or look at his destroyed missing posters.

Normally, you told your friends everything, especially Robin, who had been the first person to accept that you and Eddie were a thing. She had been your closest confidant since middle school, when you saw Eddie play for the first time and had an instant crush on him. But you couldn't even talk to her these days. You couldn't tell her that you still woke up in a cold sweat, that you still needed to listen to the tapes of unfinished Corroded Coffin songs that were mostly just Eddie's voice just to get to sleep, that you would zone out only to realize you were crying seemingly over nothing, that you had gone to the store to pick up more of Eddie's cologne because you'd been wearing it and had used it all up already, that you took a shower every time you woke up from an accidental nap because it still felt like you were covered in blood, that you slept in his leather jacket even though it was way too hot for that, that you wore the ring he'd frantically pressed into your hand as his breathing faltered on your necklace, that you refused to delete any of the numerous voicemails on the phone in your room because they were all of Eddie calling you with something for a campaign in his head he wanted to run by you.

And you definitely couldn't tell her that none of these little reminders actually helped, because, at the end of the day, you still had to go to sleep alone after six years of having him just an arm's length away. And there was nothing worse than realizing, every time you turned around to tell Eddie something, that he wasn't there, and that he wasn't ever going to be there again.

You hated Jason. You blamed him for dragging Eddie into this mess. But you understood him now. If you hadn't known about Vecna and the Upside Down, you would have been more than happy to blame someone for Eddie's death, just like he had blamed Eddie for Chrissy.

You had tried so hard not to get Eddie dragged into your life. You'd gotten sucked in when you found Nancy crying in the bathroom after Barb went missing, and your life had gotten a lot more complicated after that. Eddie had always had enough enough on his plate as it was. You never wanted to make it worse.

But then Chrissy—

"Y/N? You okay?" Robin snapped her fingers in front of your face. She looked worried, and you had a feeling she'd been trying to get your attention for a long time. Steve and Nancy, sitting on a picnic blanket with the boys, Max, and Eleven just a few feet away, looked over at you, terrified. Dustin seemed to be the only one who knew exactly why you'd been in your head instead of in the park.

"Huh?"

"You zoned out again," she said, sitting down beside you. "At first I thought it was just because Steve's yapping about girls again, but, uh, then I realized..." She wiped her finger underneath your eyes, and you felt the tear smudge across your cheek. You flinched away violently. Robin went pale. "Oh, God, he used to— Oh, Y/N, I'm so sorry, I didn't realize—"

You took a shaky breath and swiped your knuckles under your eyes. "It...it's fine. I just...sorry."

"There's no need to apologize, that was totally my fault, I should have realized—"

"No, please. It's fine." You sniffed, breathing out through your mouth. "I'm fine. I just...need a minute."

You got up quickly, your head reeling instantly, and you stumbled toward the public bathroom just feet away. You balled your hands into fists. You went to open the door and something slammed into your arm. You screamed upon recognizing what it was—a bat.

You stumbled backward away from it, your throat tightening and every muscle seizing up. It wasn't a demobat, sure, but it was still a bat. All it took was one glance at its mouth and you could hear Eddie's heavy panting, feel his blood, see the tears on his face, feel his rapidly fading heartbeat beneath your fingers, hear him crying but trying to hide it from Dustin.

The bat chirruped squeakily, hopping toward you on the ground. One of its wings was a bit mangled and bloody, dragging awkwardly behind the rest of its body.

You whimpered, stepping around the bat. "I'm sorry, little guy, but I just really don't like you. Robin says you have...rabies. Or—or something."

No, that was definitely not why you didn't like bats, but you didn't need to explain to the broken creature—or to anyone else, for that matter, including yourself—that you didn't like them because they'd torn your boyfriend apart.

With a quiet whimper, you slammed the door of the bathroom shut behind you. A small thump echoed against the door. You had a feeling it was the bat.

You locked yourself in one of the bathroom stalls and put a hand over your mouth to muffle the sounds of your tears, just in case Robin or Nancy came to check on you.

~❊~

That night, you stared at your empty bed. You touched the pillow made out of the red and black flannel Eddie had loved to wear when it was cold out. Wayne had given it to you almost immediately after Dustin had told him about Eddie.

"This is...this is yours now," Wayne had said, holding it out to you. You'd tried to protest that no, he should keep it as a memento, but Wayne was having none of it. "He would have wanted you to have it, Y/N. I...I'm sure he told you often, but you were his world. He'd want you to have something of his."

And you did, you really did. You wore the flannel around everywhere, to anything, anywhere, at any time, before it became too much of a memory. Any time you caught a glimpse of it or put it on, you remembered the time he wrapped you up in it after getting caught in the rain, or the time he used it as a pillow for your head when you got busy in his van, or the time he wrapped it around his waist when it got unexpectedly warm. So you cut it up and made it into a pillow case, because that was a little more bearable.

You hugged the pillow to your chest as you lay in the darkness of your room. It still smelled a little bit like him, even after being washed quite a few times. And even after being cried on many, many times.

Tonight was going to be one of those nights, a night where you were crying even before you fell asleep and woke up in the morning, you could just tell.

Head buried into the flannel pillow, you almost didn't hear it. The small thump on your window. But after a few seconds of silence, it registered in the back of your head that that was not normal. The last time you'd heard that sound was when Eddie knocked before crawling through your window at night, some three years ago, before your parents gave up because you loved the metalhead, try as they might try to get you to fall for the jock.

You rolled out of bed and flicked on the light, pushing up the window and shoving your head out into the night.

Nothing.

A chirrup.

You looked down and squeaked.

There it was again, the bat with the mangled wing, resting on the slanted shingles of your roof—one of them out of place from the time Eddie had given you a heart attack by slipping on it. You frowned at the bat, a little less terrified of it than the first time you'd seen it. "How did you get up here, little thing?" Your room was on the third floor of your house, but it seemed impossible that the tiny thing could fly up there with a broken wing.

Ignoring Robin's small voice in your head saying it probably—no, definitely—had rabies and was following you, you reached out a hand and stroked the top of its head. To your surprise, it made a very human-like coo.

"Oh, you just want love, don't you?" You sighed as you took in its wing. "And maybe some help. Look, little one, I'm sorry, but I can't help you. You terrify me." Because you killed my boyfriend, even though you didn't actually kill my boyfriend, and neither did your actual species, but tomato, tomato. "Maybe one day I'll be able to tell you why."

You shut the window and curled yourself around your pillow once more, reaching a hand up to the necklace you refused to take off—the one with Eddie's ring on it. You held the ring tightly in your hand, and it was still there when you jolted awake in the morning, covered in sweat and panicking just like always.

But before you took your usual shower, you glanced out the window.

The bat was gone.

~❊~

"I think I'm going insane."

You sat with Dustin on a park bench, by the edge of the graying field. The disease—or whatever it was, but the townspeople called it a disease—was spreading further and further out each day, but you still hadn't figured out exactly what it was. Nancy was sure it had something to do with the vision Vecna had shown you, but you didn't have the mental or emotional strength to help them figure it out.

You'd seen the bat several more times—at the record store where you worked, at the autobody shop Eddie used to work at, at your front door, on your car, on the sidewalk, through your bathroom window, and several more times by your bedroom window. You didn't know what the others would do if you told them you were seeing the same bat everywhere (Robin might tell you to get checked for rabies), but you trusted Dustin to take you seriously and...and not tell you that you were crazy.

"Why?"

"Because there's a bat with a mangled wing that's following me everywhere."

Dustin frowned. "Go on."

You explained, in detail, every time you had seen the bat. As usual, Dustin put it all together in record time.

"And you think that you're hallucinating the bat...because it's always showing up when you're thinking about...Eddie?"

You nodded. "And more than that—there's something special about each of those places. That sidewalk? Not a random sidewalk! Outside the restaurant Eddie took me to on our first date six years ago. Bedroom window? He always crawled through to come see me! My front door? Whenever I was upset, he'd surprise me with a big bouquet of flowers outside on my front step."

Dustin frowned. "There's...something special about Eddie and your...bathroom...window?"

You blushed. "It's not what you're thinking, I swear, he accidentally broke it once."

"He what?"

"He was waving around an old stick and it broke and flew through the bathroom window. It's nothing creepy, I swear."

Dustin raised his eyebrows. "Are you sure your parents loved him?"

"Eh." You sighed, putting your head in your hands. "I don't know, Dustin. It's just... I feel like I'm losing my mind. Hallucinating. I just don't know why it would be a bat, of all things! I mean...they...or something like them, really..." You put your head in your hands. "Why would I see a bat everywhere that means something to the two of us?"

"He liked bats," Dustin remembered. "In fact, he liked them so much he had a tattoo of them. Maybe that's why?"

"I mean, that would make sense if the demobats hadn't—"

"I know," he sighed. "But now you can't think of the tattoo, you just think of—"

"Blood," you said bluntly. "His blood. His death. Yeah."

"Has anyone else seen the bat?"

"No."

Dustin was silent for a moment, then said, "Alright, fine. Take me somewhere that meant a lot to both of you, another one of those special places, and if you see him, maybe it's a hallucination. But if we both see him, it's not. Then we'll figure out what it is after that."

You thought for a moment, then dragged Dustin to his feet. "I know exactly the place."

~❊~

It took some bribing, but you got the bartender of the bar the boys loved playing at to take you around back to the dressing rooms. You refused to tell Dustin why it was special, other than that the band played here all the time, but you were pretty sure from his expression he figured it out as soon as your eyes darted to the desk and you turned red. You remembered bursting through that door and seeing Eddie perched on the desk, swinging his legs like a little kid because the show had gone so well, and—

"Oh, no," Dustin groaned, jolting you out of your reverie, "don't tell me that you two actually—"

"Fine, I won't tell you."

"You know, saying that is almost worse."

"Oh, shut up, Dustin. We were together for six years, there's not a chance in hell that we didn't—"

"But in a dressing room? A public dressing room?"

"The door was locked!" you said defensively. "Although he did get quite loud that night."

"NOPE, no more!" Dustin said, clamping his hands to his ears. "Alright, fine. It's special. Gross, but special. Why here?"

You flopped into the chair at the desk, remembering Eddie's feet kicked up on it while the two of you kissed and giggled, his back to the mirror. "Two years in, Eddie and the band had a gig and he finally let me, y'know, get on my knees for him, so to speak. It was the second time we ever did anything, so, you know. Special."

Dustin was making a face.

You rolled your eyes. "Shut up, we were sixteen and horny."

He sighed, sitting down on the small couch, the only other piece of furniture in the room. "I'm actually not all that surprised. Seems like Eddie."

You smiled to yourself. "Yeah. Seems like Eddie."

Dustin folded his hands together. "I miss him, too, you know. I miss him being dramatic and standing on tables. I miss the voices he used to do during campaigns. I miss play fighting with him."

You hugged yourself, letting your leg swing. "Yeah... I miss his voicemails, because he'd called me while I was at work when he had an idea. I miss listening to him sing on stage. I miss just hanging out in his room while he wrote songs and I studied. Shit, I even miss watching him get frustrated when he was trying to learn a song on the guitar and it wasn't coming to him. You should have seen him trying to learn Master of Puppets. He was nonstop playing that guitar. I swear he didn't sleep for a week just so he could get it down. I used to tease him he was trying to pick up girls."

"He didn't want other girls," Dustin said, picking up on that old insecurity that used to bubble up all the time. "He wanted you."

"That's why it was teasing, Dusty. There was a time when I was afraid of that, but that was never his fault. If Eddie was one thing, he was loyal to a fault."

Dustin sat in silence, clearly working up the courage to say something. You waited, letting him find the words. Eddie had always done the same thing when he wanted to talk about something that meant a lot to him. No wonder the two of them had clicked so quickly.

"If I could go back to that moment," Dustin said, voice almost imperceptible, "when he decided to draw them away, when he cut the sheet and just—just ran... Y/N, I would. I would go back, and I would change everything. I'd make him go first. I'd...I'd do what he did instead, just to make sure he got back to you."

You looked up, your heart breaking at the absolute sorrow and anger in his voice. "Dustin..."

"If I could have died in his place, I would do it." He was shaking with his fierce determination. "Y/N, I swear it."

You got off the desk. "Dustin, hon, no. Please, no. I don't...I don't wish you had died instead. I wish none of you had to die. I wish Max wasn't blind, I wish Eddie wasn't gone, I wish none of this had ever happened. I wouldn't trade you, any of you, just to get Eddie back because he would have hated that more than anything and because you are my friends."

"But one of us would hurt less than Eddie," Dustin mumbled.

"Dustin," you said, because you could think of nothing else to say. You pulled him into a hug.

And then there was a chirrup in your ear.

You screamed, lurching back, automatically swatting at your shoulder. The little bat fell onto the couch beside Dustin and he squeaked at you, almost accusatory.

"Oh, don't start with me, you scared the life out of me!" you snapped at it, then frowned. "Dustin, did I just argue with the imaginary bat in my head?"

Dustin was staring at the bat. "Yes—you argued with it, no—it's not in your head. I can see it." He stood up slowly. "I thought you said it had a mangled wing?"

You peered at it. "I think it's healing. Look, it's still dragging behind the rest of it, but it's not bloody anymore."

The bat chirruped again, inching closer to you. You slowly extended a hand, the bat's head following your movements. You gave its head a little pet with your forefinger. It sniffed you before chirruping again.

"It looks like a Mariana fruit bat, but this the wrong area for it," Dustin said from behind you. The bat's attention swiveled to him. "Hi, little guy. Where'd you come from? I don't think you got here all the way from Guam. Especially not as a baby."

"Is it a baby?"

"Look at the size of it! It's tiny, there's no way it's not a baby."

For some reason, the bat didn't seem to like being called tiny. It clicked rather angrily at Dustin before flying awkwardly out the window, open just a crack.

"What the hell?" Dustin muttered.

"Well, now you've met the bat," you sighed. "I wonder if I should name it."

"Don't name it! Robin'll think it gave you rabies."

"That's why Robin doesn't get to know about the bat."

"You haven't told her?"

"What would I do that for?! Just go up to her and say, Hello, Robin, I've been adopted by a bat, the same creature you're deathly afraid of because it has rabies! That'll go over swell, I'm sure."

Dustin rolled his eyes. "No need to be dramatic. It's not like the bat's done anything to you. Yet."

"Yet being the word Robin would pick up on. Look, for now, let's just keep it between us. Figure out why the bat likes me. Then go from there. If it's something to do with Vecna, then we'll tell them."

"And if not?"

"I'm sure it'll go away when it's fully healed. That's gotta be why it's following me. It's injured and not thinking straight."

~❊~

Storms had become even more and more recent in Hawkins. The weather was reflecting the foul of mood of the townspeople—or perhaps of Vecna, if Eleven was right. You were almost entirely certain she was.

But you couldn't put your finger on why Vecna hadn't attacked yet. Why would he let his displeasure show through the torrential showers that were ripping shingles off of Hawkins rather than just come through to kill everyone off himself?

You were debating exactly that as you sat through another storm of hurricane strength, staring out the window and waiting for it to be over. Sometimes the storms were only a few seconds long, but this one felt like it was going to last for days.

You sighed and rolled off your bed, flopping on the floor beside your collection of cassette tapes. There had to be twenty Corroded Coffin tapes in there, but you were looking for one specific one. It wasn't quite a Corroded Coffin tape, really, because Eddie never let the band see this one—this one was just for you, songs he'd written when you couldn't look over his shoulder to see the words.

It took a little bit to find the tape, but once you did, you felt immeasurable relief. You played the tape and cracked open your window enough to smell the rain, leaning your back against your bed and closing your eyes.

Eddie's voice flooded your ears as he started the little speech he'd written for the first song. He'd written one for each song, explaining why he'd written it and when or something special about it. He'd been adorably embarrassed when he handed it to you, blushing profusely and apologizing about how stuttery he was when he'd recorded it and how his voice was a little shaky and how they weren't exactly what he wanted them to sound because he didn't have the band to do the background music. But you'd loved them all.

"Hi, sweetheart. Happy seventeenth birthday. Belated, sorry, but I, uh...I couldn't get all these perfect in time, so... So I waited. Um. They're still not as perfect as I'd like them to be, but, uh. But you deserved your birthday gift before you thought I'd forgotten about you. Uh. Yeah. So. Ah, jeez, I didn't think an introduction would be this hard. Maybe I should have had a script," his recorded voice said with that little breathy laugh you'd always loved. "Um. Anyway. This...this first one. I wrote it a while ago, actually, for you. Like a long while ago. Like when I first realized I liked you a while ago. Probably before you knew I existed. I'm talking middle school early— Maybe I should stop talking about how long ago I wrote it. Um. Sorry. Rambling. Uhhh...it's about how I felt that first time I saw you. A little cliché, yeah, but, um...every word's true. Every word, sweetheart. I really did fall in love with you at first sight. I mean, how could I not, when you looked over at me and smiled like that, that shy smile with your tongue poking out between your teeth and bottom lip. I love that smile. So, um. So I called it 'Shy Smile.' The song. This song. So, um. Here goes nothing, I guess."

And, oh, could that boy sing. Corroded Coffin might have been a heavy metal band, but Eddie could certainly manage the soft songs just as artfully. He had the perfect voice for it, a gentle croon that had sometimes lulled you to sleep.

You remembered very clearly Eddie singing the songs he wrote for you and smoothing his hand over your hair to get you to sleep when you were stressed or upset. And it had always worked.

Recorded Eddie hummed through his guitar solo and your chest tightened. You drew your legs up, settling your head on them. "Oh, Eddie, you have no idea how much I need you."

And then, a few songs later, he was crooning about how much he loved you, promising never to leave you, telling you he'd always be by your side.

The tears came suddenly and didn't stop. Your body shook violently as you sobbed, his name somewhere in between the sniffles and cries. You dragged the flannel pillow off the bed and wrapped your body around it, burying yourself in his familiar, if faint, scent.

It took Eddie's voice in another song's introduction to ground you again. "Okay, baby, I've got a happier one for you. Well. Not that they've been sad, really, just...this one's less sappy. Even though I know you're a sap, and I'm a sap, and we're just two hopeless romantics." God, you could hear his smile. "This one's about that day we spent at Lover's Lake. That was...such an—an awesome day. And I promise it's not about the sex in the van, I want you to be able to listen to this with your parents around." A beat, which you managed a shaky laugh during. "Not sure if you can now, now that I've...that I've said that. Well, just let me know, I'll make you another tape without the introductions if I gotta. And don't you say it's too much work, because I'll do anything for my girl. Got that? Anything. Okay. Here we go, I called this one 'Lake Swimming.'"

You wiped your eyes. "It's okay. You're okay. You've still got him like this. And that's all you can have now."

In the midst of the softness of Eddie's acoustic guitar, you heard it. The chirruping. Your head snapped toward the window, and there was the little bat, clinging to the window and trying desperately to squeeze through the tiny crack.

You lurched to your feet. "Oh, you poor thing! Out in that storm all by yourself. And so little!" It squeaked. "Oh, right. You don't like being called little. What's that about?" You pushed up the window, cupping the bat in your hands. "Oh, oh no, you're shivering!" You closed the window with your elbow, cuddling the bat close to your chest. "Robin would so kill me for this."

The bat chirruped.

"What is it? Do you want to be put down?"

The bat sniffed your hands and attached itself to your shirt, crawling up you until it had reached your shoulder. It perched there.

"Um. Okay, then," you said, sitting back down carefully. "I wonder if you're hungry..." Well, you had some fruit in the fridge, and a fruit bat would certainly eat that, right? "Can I put you down so you don't freak out my parents?" You gently plucked the bat from your shoulder, nestling him on the flannel pillow. "Um. Stay. I'll be right back."

You hurried downstairs, grabbing the container of fruit from your fridge with a flippant excuse that you were just a little hungry. The bat was sitting exactly where you left it when you returned and offered it a piece of fruit.

It crawled into your hand and munched down on the fruit. You sat back on the floor, turning the volume on Eddie's tape up a bit more. "I hope you don't mind my boyfriend's music, my friend. It's quite good, if I say so myself, and I don't think I'm just biased. He's really good." You sat in silence, propping your head up on one of your knees again. "I miss him."

The bat looked at you curiously. You put it and the fruit on your floor, reaching for a framed photograph of yourself and Eddie instead, with his arms slung around you from behind and a smile on his face as you kissed his cheek. You vision blurred as you lifted the photo to your lips and kissed it gently.

"I'd give anything," you said to the bat, staring fixedly at Eddie's happy face, "just to see him again, just for a few minutes. Just to...to get a better goodbye. To kiss him goodbye and hold him and make it as peaceful as possible. To tell him it would be alright. To tell him I love him. To tell him that I miss him. No. No, I wouldn't tell him I miss him, because then that would make him feel guilty, and how can you feel guilty about dying? I mean...it's not his fault." You wiped your eyes. "I'd just...I'd want to make him feel better. Peaceful. I don't...I wish he hadn't gone out the way he did, y'know? In pain. Crying. Knowing what was coming. Having to say goodbye to—to Dustin." You laughed shakily. "Oh, God, Eddie. I'm going insane. I'm talking about you to a bat." You looked down at your feet. "A bat that's now missing in my house. Or maybe he was never there in the first place and I'm just crazy."

"You're not crazy," said his smooth voice, and your head whipped toward the cassette player. Since when was the quality so good? A small chuckle from behind you. You froze. "Wrong way, sweetheart." And two fingers, one marked by a tan line where a ring would have been, slipped under your jaw, turning your head slowly.

His eyes—his sweet, pretty eyes—stared you full in the face. Your eyes took him in, noticing the scars on his face and his hips. You studied him, drinking in every hollow in his gaunt body. But you knew those tattoos. You knew those eyes. You knew that voice.

You blinked rapidly, subtly pinching your arm. He laughing, covering your hand with his own.

"You're naked, Eddie," you said, and you realized seconds after they came out that they were not the words you wanted to be saying. You clapped your hands over your mouth, face heating.

Eddie shrugged. "It's nothing you haven't seen before."

"Eddie, you're..."

"Nope. I'm not."

"Eddie, I was there, I saw you die in Dustin's arms!"

"Nope," he said again, and you could finally hear how tired and haggard he sounded it. "Unfortunately not."

"Unfortunately?!"

He shrugged. "I think being dead would be better than my fate." He pointed to the fruit left on the floor. "That's the first I've eaten in almost three months."

"You— The fruit? You were the bat?!"

He nodded.

"Right, okay, mister, what the fuck?"

He sighed. "So no loving and tearful greeting for the not-dead boyfriend?"

"Eddie. Talk to me. And then maybe I'll cry over you. But I want answers first."

Eddie leaned against you, cuddling his body closer to yours. Automatically, you reached an arm around his shoulders. He made a chirruping sound similar to the sound of the bat he'd been only minutes before. "Truth is, I don't have a lot of answers. All I know is that I died in the Upside Down, then woke up here as a bat. And then I tried to not be a bat, of course, but that didn't help. I just broke my wing. Not sure if that means my arm was broken or...something. I'm sure that'll be an awkward doctor's visit in the future. Point is, once I figured out I couldn't...change form or whatever you wanna call it, I tried to find you, but it's all different when you're a bat. I had to pick up your scent, but I couldn't."

"So that day at the park, by the bathrooms—"

"I'd finally caught sight of you. After that, I figured I should try and stay close. I thought maybe you'd figure out it was me somehow, if I was obvious enough."

"Which is why you always found me at our special places."

Eddie sighed his relief into your shoulder. "Exactly." He wrapped his arms around your waist. "Oh, sweetheart."

You brushed a hand over his hair, your shocked brain not quite realizing that he was really there but already falling back into the routine of your relationship. "So how'd you get human again?"

"Dunno. I think you made me cry and it made me feel human enough to be around you, talking about me and listening to my music." He looked into your eyes. "I do feel guilty. About not being able to tell you sooner that I was still kicking. I...I know it was hard for me, but...I was kind of scatterbrained. I couldn't quite process being alone. But you... You had everything to deal with, all those emotions."

"We'll talk this out in the morning."

"Why not now?"

"Because you're shivering against me. You were a soaked bat about three minutes ago, and now you're a very naked boy again. Let's get you warmed up, okay? I'll run the shower."

Eddie whimpered with relief at your words, clinging to you as you helped him to stand up on wobbly legs. You helped him into your bathroom and shower, joining him to make sure he wouldn't fall on his own. He clung to your arm as the two of you attempted to get him warm and clean.

"Your clothes are soaked now," he mumbled, but still pulled you into a tight hug against his chest.

"I don't really care," you whispered. "I'm holding you again."

When you shut the shower off, you made Eddie sit on the floor as you fetched him clothes.

It wasn't until you'd gathered clothes—all of them his, some of them (like the shirt) given to you by Wayne, but most of them (like the pants and boxers and socks) were from Eddie leaving them behind at your house for the nights he snuck in through your window—that it truly hit you that he was back.

He wasn't just back, he was alive.

Your Eddie.

Alive. Safe. In your bathroom. Home where he belonged.

You dropped the clothes as you fell to the floor, sobbing with relief. Eddie came running into your room, kneeling beside you.

"Sweetheart? What's wrong, what happened? What can I do? Is it me?"

You pulled him closer to you, burying your head into his neck. "Nothing's wrong. Nothing's wrong, Eddie, everything's perfect. Back to the way it should be. You're here."

He wrapped his arms tightly around you. "I'm here," he promised. "I've got you."

You cupped his face in your hands, kissing him softly. He whimpered against your mouth, missing you as much as you missed him. You pressed your forehead to his as he scooped you up and laid you gently on your bed. He pulled away from you, picking up his clothes and pulling them on. He laid beside you, pulling you back into his arms.

"Don't you ever make me think you're dead again, Eddie Munson, you hear?"

He kissed you again, arms sliding around your back. "Loud and clear, sweetheart."

"Good," you whispered into his mouth, "my little bat."

Eddie smiled against your lips. "Not little."

☞ ❊ ☜

Stranger Things // Eddie Munson

Taglist: {comment and let me know if you'd like to be added to the E.M. taglist!} @ohatropa @lilylilyyyyyy

#season 4 stranger things #stranger things #stranger things au #au stranger things #eddie munson #eddie x reader #eddie x y/n #eddie x fem!reader #bat eddie #stranger things eddie #fix it fic #stranger things fix it

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professorrw · 2 years

Text

Cheerleader Pt. 8

☆stranger things masterlist☆

Pairing: female reader x Eddie Munson

Summary: Y/n and Chrissy are best friends, but when she dies, she knows things aren’t as everyone seems to think. Maybe Eddie is innocent.

Warnings: SPOILERS for ST4, teen drinking, partying, drugs, death, violence, cursing, fluff, some angst, potentially more

A/N: Just a few more hours until volume 2!! There's probably going to be another part that takes place before volume 2, but I won't get it out until after! Requests open (Stranger Things, Marvel, Harry Potter), taglist open, inbox open! Please like, comment, and reblog!

Sleep came quickly, but that didn’t mean it was comfortable. When you woke up it felt like you had nails hammered into every inch of your body. Your muscles ached, partly from being sore from walking and the other part being how uncomfortable the forest floor was. You hoped that Eddie had slept better, but there was a large chance that he didn’t. When you awoke he was still sleeping, arms still wrapped around you as they had been for the past few hours while you slept. There was no chance he was going to let go of you or move, even if it wasn’t the most comfortable position. Even when he slept he subconsciously wanted to be close to you, touching you.

It felt like there was something crawling on your cheek but you didn’t want to swat at it and disturb the person sleeping peacefully next to you. He breathed in and out evenly, air fanning over your hair through his slightly parted lips. A large part of you wanted to turn around and look at him, to study his features when he didn’t have a worry in the world.

The crawling feeling on your face wasn’t going away and if whatever it was didn’t get off soon you were going to go insane. You tried multiple things: twitching your cheek, blowing air at it through the corners of your mouth, shaking your head slightly. None worked. As a last resort you ever so slowly lifted your hand to swipe at your face, letting out a sigh when the thing finally flew off you and hit the dirt and grass mixed ground.

It was a ladybug. An orange one. When you were a child, ladybugs were “your animal,” or insect technically. Countless hats and outfits that were red with black spots, baby utensils and plastic plates with ladybugs, and vinyl wallpaper with grass, flowers, and the red insects covering your nursery. Your mom would gush about how adorable you were with your chubby cheeks, somewhat resembling the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man from the Ghostbusters movie with your fat rolls. Your mother thought it was the cutest thing ever, but she was your mother. She was definitely biased.

Oh how simple it was to be a baby, spending your days eating, sleeping, and shitting. As you get older the world just gets more and more complicated, more and more responsibilities are put on you. That’s life. At the ripe age of eighteen you realized that life wasn’t fair. You had actually realized that at the age of twelve when your favorite cousin, and only friend at the time, moved across the country. That realization was nothing compared to how other people came to the conclusion that life isn’t fair, but to your twelve year old self it was the worst thing that could happen to a kid. Life would continue to remind you that it wasn’t fair, that nothing came without a price and nothing lasts forever.

The best thing to do was be grateful for what you did have, and find the positive in every situation no matter how dreadful it was. Chrissy had died. That was final. She was never coming back. No one could ever replace her, or come close to being as bright as she. However, there was a small light that had come from all this. That light was Eddie.

Just months ago you never thought that any of this would happen. You imagined that you would go on through your senior year, graduate, go to a college that your parents would help you pay for, graduate, get a job, maybe get married and have kids. Now you scoffed at that idea.

A soft groan came from behind you. “Good morning,” Eddie said in a gravelly voice. He lifted one arm and stretched it up towards the sky.

“Good morning sunshine,” you replied. “How’d you sleep?” You shifted and turned around, now just a few inches between your faces. You were so close you could see the peach fuzz that covered his skin, the slight stubble that was sprouting from his chin, how his long eyelashes casted a slight shadow over his eyes, and all the creases and pores that made Eddie’s face Eddie’s face. A beautiful face. He stared at you with his big doe eyes, a small shy smile coming to his face at your proximity and analyzing expression.

“I slept alright,” he said, trying to hold his breath. He didn’t want you to smell his morning breath, which was probably unpleasant from a few days of not being able to brush his teeth. He was so conscious of everything about himself. He didn’t want you to be repulsed. Eddie didn’t know it but that could never happen. You yourself didn’t fully know the extent, but you were too fond of this man in front of you for something as miniscule as his breath deter you.

“Good,” you said with a smile.

God that smile, Eddie thought. How could someone be so beautiful? Since Eddie had met you he had been going through very similar doubts and thoughts. You, from the very beginning, welcomed him with open arms. Despite the fact that you were a cheerleader you didn’t hold any prejudice against him. He had been learning lately, that maybe it wasn’t fair to label people based on the sports they play.

You hadn’t known each other for very long, but after you left Reefer Rick’s house all he could think about was you, you, you. He looked forward to the next time he was going to see you, and when he was finally able to he was almost automatically in a better mood and his spirits were lifted. He could understand why Chrissy loved you so much.

He had accepted the fact that he was indeed falling for you. Every time you looked at him or smiled at him his face warmed up and butterflies erupted in his stomach. Him, a twenty year old, getting butterflies. He thought he was past all that, and that he, Eddie “the Freak” Munson, would never have those types of feelings for someone, and that they would never be reciprocated. But maybe he was wrong. He hoped he was wrong.

“Eddie?” you said, giggling quietly. He had completely zoned out staring at your face.

“Yes?” he asked, snapping back to reality.

You smiled, “Nothing.”

An hour later you and Eddie were scouting the area around you, trying to find something that could be of use. The walkie was busted, so you had no way to contact the gang. You two were on your own. By the grace of God, or whatever was up there, you hit a goldmine. There was a construction lot just two or three miles– you couldn't be sure– away from Skull Rock. It was broad daylight now and the area was crawling with workers and advisors.

“Look at their belts,” you said, putting a hand on Eddie’s upper arm. “They have walkie-talkies.”

“Okay great… but how do we get them?” he asked.

“Umm, I don’t know just yet.” The two of you were crouched down in tall grass, several yards away from a stack of wood planks and a porta potty that were stationed on the outskirts of what you assumed was a house was being built. It was a nice location for a home. Reefer Rick had a nice home too, it was just messy from the vacancy. You watched as various workers walked past, hard hats shading their faces but still sweating.

“Eddie! Eddie!” you said, pointing at a worker that was headed towards the bathroom. He took his belt off and laid it on a table next to the wood planks. It was the perfect opportunity.

Without a word the brunette ran up to the table and very quickly grabbed the walkie-talkie out of one of the slots. Thankfully no one saw him. You backtracked to Skull Rock, taking less time to get back since you weren’t wandering around.

“Okay here we go,” Eddie said. You weren’t sure what he had done, but somehow he got on the same radio frequency as Henderson. He pressed the button, “Dustin, can you hear me? Wheeler?”

There was a beep and then you heard Henderson’s fateful voice, “Eddie. Holy shit. Are you okay?”

“Not exactly,” he answered, glancing at you. You were sitting right next to him and listening too.

“Where are you? Is y/n with you?” Dustin crackled through the speaker.

He looked at you with a puzzled look, “Yes she is. And we’re at Skull Rock. Do you know it?”

“Yeah, yeah.” There was static for a second before he spoke again, “Hold tight. We’re coming.”

Eddie put his head down and nodded. You reached over and rubbed his back. “Now all we do is wait.”

“Yeah…” he trailed off. You expected him to be happy but he didn’t seem to be. He seemed sad.

“What is it?” You leaned forward to look at his face but he didn’t meet your eyes. He stared at the ground and chewed on the inside of his cheek. “Eddie?” you asked again softly.

His brown eyes finally met yours, and in the moment he resembled something of a wounded puppy, which made your heart ache. “Y/n… I’m scared.”

“Of what?”

“Of what’s about to happen next. Or what isn’t going to happen. What if-” his eyes got glossy and tears started forming on his water line. “What if the police still take me? A murder sentence would be a long time and I can’t go to prison. I wouldn’t survive in there. I couldn’t leave this all behind. Graduation, my band, Hellfire Club… you.” He looked at you with a glint of something in his eyes, and you wanted to say something, you wanted to reach out, but you weren’t sure if he meant what you thought he did.

“Eddie…” you started, but he raised his hand to stop you.

“I’m afraid that I’ll lose my chance at a future. I never thought that I would amount to much. It’s my third time being a senior and I’m twenty years old living with my uncle in his trailer, selling drugs out of a lunchbox. But now I’ve met you and all of this,” he waved his hand in the air, “has happened and I want to be more than that.”

“You can be. We’re going to set things straight and you’re going to be a free man for good. I’m going to do everything I can to make sure of it,” you said.

“I’m glad you think so and hopefully everything will be okay. But I’m not certain that’s what’s going to happen so I can’t waste my chance. I know we haven’t known each other for very long and that these are really shitty circumstances but I think I like you y/n.” He reached for your hand and you took it. He had never been so vulnerable with anyone before, and his heart was racing at the possibility of rejection.

“I think I like you too,” you said, laughing a little bit when he let out a long breath.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked hesitantly.

You nodded and leaned towards him with your eyes shut. He cupped your face with his hands and you could feel the cool metal of his rings as his lips touched yours. They were surprisingly soft and he kissed you very gently. After a few seconds you both pulled away but kept your faces close together. Eddie had the biggest smile you had seen yet on his face and a tint of pink on his cheeks. You didn’t think Eddie Munson would ever blush.

You let out a content sigh, happier than you thought you could be at a time like this. So Eddie did like you all along and you weren’t crazy. The thought alone made your heart flutter. It had been a long time since you’d felt the way you did towards Eddie. This newfound attraction fueled you to make sure his name was clear even more. The truth was, if he did go to prison, what would you do? You couldn’t just forget about him.

“Are you happy?” you asked, looking over at the brunette.

He laughed, “What kind of question is that? Of course I’m happy. I wasn’t sure if you felt the same way but it turns out you do. Y/n Y/l/n, a cheerleader, likes Eddie “the Freak” Munson. Who would’ve thought?”

“You aren’t a freak. Not in my eyes.”

“I’m glad you think so,” he said, grinning.

For another hour the two of you talked and laughed, reminiscing on childhood stories and other things of the sort. Conversation came easy. You bounced off one another like twin flames. Eddie was halfway through talking about a ghost encounter he had two years ago when you heard voices in the distance.

“That must be them,” Eddie said. “I’m going to hide up here on this rock.” You watched as the brunette climbed up on a smaller boulder like a spider-monkey, much more agile than you expected. You followed him but didn’t climb on top of the rock, just stood behind it.

You heard Henderson’s voice talking to another male, presumably Harrington. You peaked out from behind the rock and saw Steve just a few feet away. “You are a massive butthead.”

Eddie jumped down, startling Dustin and the rest of the gang. “I concur. You, Dustin Henderson, are a total butthead.”

“Jeez we thought you were a goner.” Dustin wrapped his arms around Eddie as you walked forward, becoming visible to everyone. Low and behold, there was Nancy, Robin, Max, and Lucas. All six of them came.

“Oh y/n!” Dustin said when he spotted you. Eddie turned towards you and smiled and you walked up to stand by his side. To your surprise the taller male put an arm around your shoulder.

“Woah woah woah, when did this happen?” Henderson asked, jaw practically on the floor. You took a look around and saw a variety of facial expressions. Steve and Robin looked at each other with raised eyebrows, Max was slightly smiling at you, and Lucas and Nancy were just generally surprised.

“What can I say?” Eddie said. “Y/n couldn’t resist my wicked charm.”

“Uhuh, yeah. It was more like you couldn’t resist mine.” You poked him in the side, focusing only on him. Dustin gagged.

“Henderson I don’t want to hear it. You talk about your supposed girlfriend all the time and how awesome she is,” Eddie said.

“I- That’s because she is. Suzie is amazing and super smart and beautiful. And real,” Dustin added.

Nancy sighed, “Guys as much as I would love to hear about all this, we have things we need to discuss.”

Steve nodded, “Nancy is right.”

Cheerleader Taglist: @felicityofbakerstreet @waifu4lifeu @1twontalwaysbelikethiss @i-bitch-you-bitch @chipster-21 @jay-swoohoo @lydiaveronicasgf @heyyimlaynna @xoyouronlyamorrxo @crunchytoenailsyum @bilesxbilinskixlahey @ljaneyx @bubblebuttwade @captain-satan @mariastaru @vaness20 @are-y0u-sirius @teapartydreams @ollqos @laurykat23

Eddie Munson Taglist: @teenagegoateecollectorposts @linkpk88

Taglist: @23victoria

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acourtofsnakes · 2 years

Text

Darkness At The Heart Of My Love, Chapter 1 | Kas!Eddie Munson x F!Reader

Chapter 1 - Bad Liar

Summary: The world still turned, people still laughed, and the sun still set. Everything carried on without Eddie's presence. Everything accept you. How could you? He was your best friend and your soulmate, and you refused to accept he was gone. But what if you were right? What if he wasn't?

Warnings: 18+ for heavy mention of depression, anxiety, slight suicidal thoughts, grief, feelings of isolation.

A/N: The future chapters will not be as heavy as this, but please read with caution. Remember, you are not alone, and my inbox is always open 💙

Tags: @greeneyedblondie44 @mamacitapascal @mypedrom @undiscovered-misunderstood @kaylee-krystal @theshireisburning-so-mordoritis @queenofthefaceless @gallowsjoker @kirsteng42 @rosiefridayrogersunday @salome-c @amywritesthings @meganlpie @sgt-morgan @starryeyedstories @pumpkin-stars

Series Masterlist | Playlist | Masterlist

*~ Oh, hush, my dear, it's been a difficult year

And terrors don't prey on

Innocent victims ~*

It was strange, how the world went back to normal after something devastating had happened.

The very foundation of your life could be ripped away, taking joy and light and your heart with it and yet… Everything moved as normal. People went back to work, kids went back to school, shops carried on selling and the clock still ticked by, reminding you that each second was another without the person you loved most in the world.

And it pissed you off.

It hurt.

Because it wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that everyone else acted as though nothing had happened, that they planned their graduation parties and outfits. It wasn’t fair that people laughed and had fun, it wasn’t fair that they shouted across the halls to their friends and asked what they were doing that night.

It wasn’t fair that it carried on. That they got those plans, that laughter.

It wasn’t fair… Because Eddie wasn’t here.

He was dead.

And you weren’t.

Your best friend, your partner in crime, your Dungeon Master, your soulmate, your Eddie.

Dead.

Torn to shreds by those damn bats in the Upside Down.

And no one cared.

People were fucking relieved that they didn’t have to worry about the possibility of a cultist murderer in their cosy little town. The ‘freak of Hawkins High’ was finally gone, and they didn’t have to worry anymore. They could let their kids out at night without fear, as if Eddie was the worst possible thing crawling through this town, when he was far from it.

They forgot that Eddie was one of the kindest, sweetest guys in the whole place, the one who knew what people thought of him and tried his hardest to not make them afraid, to make them feel at ease. The one who took in the kids who would otherwise be mercilessly bullied and gave them a home in the walls of the school.

Jason’s demise put to rest the whole thing eventually, and now, months later, they didn’t talk about it anymore. They didn’t talk about any of them, really.

Chrissy, Fred, and Patrick had their pictures in the main hallway off the entrance of the school, with memorial plaques and messages from other students beneath.

The others who died in the earthquake were spread along the wall too, and yet… not one of those pictures were Eddie. Not a single one.

You and Dustin had put one up when school eventually resumed, and three days later, it had been defiled by devil horns and pentagrams.

As soon as you saw it, you flipped out, stalking into the cafeteria with the ruined memorial in hand, demanding to know which one of the student body had done it.

There were raised eyebrows and snickering, not so quite whispers about how ‘Munson’s little girlfriend” was losing her mind, maybe he’d finally broken her after all.

It wasn’t until you were standing on top of the basketball teams table, spitting vicious, pained words at them that Ms Kelly was summoned, and you were coaxed into her office for the rest of the afternoon.

She tried to get you to talk about your feelings, to open up about the chasm of guilt and agony that was slowly devouring you whole, but you merely pasted on a smile and reassured her you were okay.

It was just a slip of anger, of pain at how Eddie was treated but you felt better now, and you’d apologise first thing tomorrow.

That moment became the starting point of telling the world you were fine. Of putting on that mask and pretending you were trying to move on.

That you were grieving, yes, but you were getting through. You couldn’t stop what other people said, only remember Eddie as you knew him. As he truly was.

That’s what you told people.

You continued the Hellfire meetings, the group naming you Dungeon Master in tribute, and you acted as though that notion didn’t tear another hole in your heart. Because a new DM meant he wasn’t coming back. And you pretended that sitting on his empty throne didn’t make you feel sick, like a betrayal to the idea of him still being out there, alive somewhere in the ruins of the Upside Down. It only made the guilt worse, a snide whisper that you’d left him there, that this was all your fault because you distracted him and broke your promise.

The outside world believed that you were getting along just fine, slowly but surely. They didn’t know.

They didn’t know that every single night, you were terrified to sleep. Terrified to give yourself over to your subconscious, which gifted you the memories of Eddie being torn to shreds, of his screams of agony, the tears on his face. The scent of his blood over your hands and soaking into your jeans, and the feel of his hand curling around your own, pressing his guitar pick into your palm, and croaking, “Take care of my sweetheart, sweetheart. She’s yours now. I love you, more than anything. Thank you for making me feel like a hero. Your hero.” Before his own slackened and slipped to the ground, gifting you the last piece of him he could because he knew he wasn’t coming back. Eddie ‘the banished’ wasn’t coming home.

They didn’t know that the voice in your head, the voice everyone had, that now and then told them negative things was… actually a real voice. His voice. The puppet master in control of all of this, of every act of horror and destruction, of every monster, of every death.

Vecna was the voice in your head, and he certainly had a lot to say.

They didn’t know that your dreams gave you the victorious screech of the bats and Dustin’s choked sobs as he witnessed yet another sight that a child shouldn’t.

It gave you the memory of Steve screaming at you, begging you to come back now, that there was no time to bring Eddie’s body back through the gate before the whole place collapsed. Then your fists pounding into Steve’s chest as he dragged you through to the trailer, his arms wrapped round you as you shouted and screamed insults at him that dissolved into the same hysterical sobs that broke from Dustin’s own throat where he was wrapped in Nancy’s arms, the pair of them restraining you both but also stopping you from shattering into a million pieces.

Every night, a new snippet.

Every night, you tasted blood and ash, heard the noises as the monsters tore into Eddie’s flesh.

Every night you fought sleep, and every night, when you inevitably lost, you clawed yourself awake, covered in sweat, heart beating so fast you were convinced you were going to die. You couldn’t place your room, couldn’t work out that you were safe in bed, not trapped in a decaying rendition of your home.

It took you hours to crawl out of your head, to realise where you were. Safe, yes but by no means okay.

And the following morning, you’d have to paint on your mask and act like it was all okay, until you could fall into bed and tear apart, breaking into more and more pieces each night.

Because the world was carrying on without Eddie and without you.

And it wasn’t fair.

*~ So look me in the eyes

Tell me what you see

Perfect paradise

Tearing at the seams ~*

The rain pelted your window, feeling as though it was responding to your emotion, your frantic anxiety.

You’d just shaken yourself awake from yet another nightmare and had spent the last fifteen minutes trying to do the breathing exercises Ms Kelly had taught you about, as well as finding the five senses within things in your room.

The rain has been the thing you could hear, so you focused on the heavy beat of water droplets on your window as you reached for your phone.

The soft light flared across your face as you unlocked the screen, ignoring any other notifications as you opened up the text app.

The little blue circles on various conversations reminded you again how many people you needed to respond to, but you merely scrolled to the thread pinned at the top and opened it.

“Master Of Your Heart❤️‍🔥🎸🦇”

An endless screen, a month and a half worth of unread text messages, all in green and red greeted you like a damn Christmas tree.

Hundreds of messages sent to the best friend and soulmate who’d never come home, marked with the red explanation points to signify they hadn’t delivered - would never deliver.

This thread had become a diary of sorts, the back and forth of conversations between you both petering off into your one-sided messages where you allowed yourself to reveal just how much you were drowning.

You and Eddie had never once hidden anything from each other. No thought, emotion or worry was too much, and this was your safe space to break and fall back into the shattered pieces you were trying so hard to keep together.

“Hey, you.” - undelivered

“I know it’s late… or I guess it’s early? Anyway, I can’t sleep… again. Ms Kelly keeps asking if I got those tablets yet and if they’re working.” - undelivered

“I told her they were, and I was sleeping without nightmares, and I think she finally believes me. Even though I didn’t even bother going to collect them. There’s no way I’m taking pills to help me sleep.” - undelivered

“And before you say it, yes, I know what we used to smoke, but that’s different. We knew what that would do.” - undelivered

You rubbed your eyes, gaze drifting to the side of your room for a moment and landing on Eddie’s guitar.

It hung next to your mirror, exactly as it had in his trailer, and you meticulously polished it so there was never a speck of dust or fingerprint on the smooth surface.

When you could drag yourself out of bed and face the outside world, you made it to the bookshop, where you’d purchased five different books on guitars, care and on a whim, how to play.

You knew you’d never dream of touching his guitar like that, but it just… made you feel closer. A physical aid to the memory of his arms wrapped around you, chin resting on your shoulder and his hair tickling your cheek.

The scent of smoke had lingered in the air from the cigarette on the side, his body warm behind you, legs either side of your own as he guided your fingers to play the chords. His voice had been a gentle murmur in your ear, such a contrast to the bright, animated voice of the Dungeon Master earlier that afternoon.

This softness, this liquid tone with that slight rasp was all yours.

“Here, like this. Then just strum with your other hand… Gently, baby… There you go! You’re a natural, sweetheart. Gonna be coming for my place in the band soon.”

The barest ghost of smile touched your lips, and you looked back at your phone.

“You remember all those guitar lessons you used to give me? I remember being stunned the first time you let me touch your guitar. I thought you must have been higher than we realised.” - undelivered.

“But then you sat behind me and spent the next two hours teaching me to play a Corroded Coffin song… and the whole time I couldn’t stop thinking about how much I wanted you to kiss me, and I could have asked, and you would… But you looked so happy to be teaching me that I couldn’t bear to stop you. So I just sat there, thinking about that smile on your lips and how I wanted to taste it.” - undelivered.

“Or how warm your hands were on mine.” - undelivered.

“I thought about your hands a lot, actually.” - undelivered.

Eddie knew your fixations, made it his personal mission to learn you, what made you tick and breathe a little harder and when he found out your little thing for his hands?

Damn.

He made a point of it.

Tapping his rings on the table at lunch, moving them up and down his fingers when he spoke to you.

Rolling a d20 between his fingers at Hellfire meetings, knowing your eyes were fixed on the red die slipping between his knuckles, clicking against his rings because he knew how much you loved them too.

His hands would card through his hair, rub along his jaw knowing your eyes were trailing the action with that burning gaze searing your irises.

Of course, he didn’t let on how thrilled that made him at first. Or surprised.

In all honesty, he still didn’t understand what you saw in him, how something so normal, his hands of all things, could make your breathing quicken and make your teeth sink into your lower lip.

He never quite understood how you loved all of him so much.

You’d planned to spend every single day showing him.

“I still do.” - undelivered

“The thing is, Eddie… I can’t stop fucking thinking about you.” - undelivered

“I miss you so much, so much that it hurts, and I want to scream and set the world on fire because I don’t understand why they’re all carrying on when you weren’t allowed to.” – undelivered.

The wind howled fiercely outside, battering your window like it was angry too, like it felt your fury and pain and was manifesting it into something physical.

Either that or it wanted to barge in and drag you away too.

You were so tempted to let it.

‘Do it. If you let me, I could take away your pain, little dove. I could take you away from all of this, all of this agony and horror that you put yourself through. I promise you it would only hurt for a moment, but that’s nothing compared to what you feel every day, is it?’

That damn voice.

“Please come back to me, Eddie. I… I don’t know how long I can keep this up.” – undelivered.

Nothing. And there would always be nothing.

You swallowed the glass in your throat, sinking deeper into the covers that provided little warmth and you pulled them over your head.

‘He isn’t coming, little dove. It’s just you and me.’

The light from your phone snuffed out, plunging you into darkness that always lingered at the edges of your vision, and you whispered into that abyss, “I love you, Eddie.”

*~ I wish I could escape

I don't wanna fake it

Wish I could erase it

Make your heart believe ~*

“Dustin was asking about you today.” Steve’s voice was soft, casual, a familiar tone that you could always rely on and always count on to be right there whenever he was needed.

You were seated in the front of his car, the dashboard spread with steaming, fresh food that filled the car with a delicious array of smells. You’d been hungry for once, actually.

Steve had treated you to dinner, taking you to the local diner he know you always loved when you were feeling down, and he’d gotten every one of your favourite things.

He hadn’t made a big deal about it, just reeled the list off to the waitress behind the counter and came back into the car with the giant bag of food.

You looked over at him, sipping your milkshake through the straw, “Really? How come?” You were safe in here, in the familiarity of Steve’s car, curled up in the passenger seat in a hoodie of his, one he’d promptly pulled over your head when you dropped into the vehicle without a coat.

Steve dunked some fries in his own shake, chasing them into his mouth before they dripped all over his lap, “They’re having a big party this weekend, with food and drinks and games and stuff. All the kids are going, and we all have an invite too. Apparently, Robin is going to make her famous coleslaw.” He rolled his eyes affectionately, “I have never heard of her having a famous recipe, but the thought of her being around knives fills me with horror, honestly.”

You couldn’t help the affectionate laugh at his words, a soft snort as you pulled open one of the boxes on the dashboard, “Let’s hope she doesn’t cut off any of her fingers, I’m not sure she could do with losing any limbs with her already upset balance.”

Steve smiled as you laughed, even though it was tiny, it was still something. It was something other than the broken, absent shadow you had been turning into the last few months. He could work with this.

Damn, it was an opportunity, slim, but one all the same and he grasped it with both hands, another rope to keep you afloat a little bit longer, “Absolutely. Oh my god, I need to put you all on reins. The kids seem to run off everywhere, El blows stuff up, then I have to watch you and Robin falling over every ten minutes.” He laughed himself, knocking his head back against the headrest, pointing a fry at you, “I should wrap you both in bubble wrap, otherwise you’ll trip over one day and break yourselves beyond repair.”

A mirthless laugh slipped from your lips before you could stop it, “It wouldn’t take much. I’m barely hanging on as it is, all it would take is someone sneezing, and I’d go tumbling off the deep end.” You blinked when you realised, you’d just sucked the life out of the gently growing bubble of humour in the car, and you shook your head at yourself.

Steve blinked, the laughter and hope sliping from his face, and he looked at you, almost too long and you felt your skin begin to prickle, like the concern and loving care in his eyes had begun to peel away the layers of your barely put together shell. “Hey…”

The softness in his voice, the gentle quality like he didn’t want to spook you… You knew where this conversation was about to go, your palms starting to grow clammy.

You shook your head, fixing your eyes firmly on the colourful sign of the diner in front of you, “I’m fine, Steve, really. I was joking. It was a stupid thing to joke about, I know.” Even you could hear the forced casualness in your voice, and you knew you were doing little to convince your friend.

“Don’t. Don’t do that…” He frowned, reaching across to rest his hand on your own, “Don’t shut me out, you know you can talk to me.” His hand squeezed yours gently, fingertips close enough to your wrist that you knew he could feel the rapid thrum of your panicked heart.

The breath began to come shorter in your lungs, catching on the way in and you didn’t look away from the lights of the diner, “I know, Steve. I know, and you know how grateful I am for that, but I’m okay. I promise.”

Steve’s frown deepened, worry flaring in his dark eyes and then the fingers of other hand gently rested over yours, “We both know you’re not… You don’t need to pretend, sweetheart, you can let the mas-”

“Don’t call me that.”

The words died on Steve’s lips as you cut him off, a pained hiss of a whisper, your body rigid under his touch, “What?” Then it dawned on him, the colour draining from his skin and he wanted to punch himself, hard. “Shit.”

He scrambled to put the food on your laps somewhere else, reaching over again and he pulled you into his arms, “I’m sorry, I am so, so sorry. I didn’t think, it just slipped out.”

You couldn’t answer him, couldn’t talk as your throat closed up, the food having turned to ash in your mouth and tears suddenly spilled down your cheeks unbidden, a symphony of Eddie’s voice echoing in your mind, speaking that sweet nickname over and over.

Steve slid a hand up your back, bringing it to cup your head to his chest, trying to protect you, to hold you together as your shoulders shook and you grasped weakly at his t-shirt. He didn’t make any moves to shush you or placate you. He just kept whispering, over and over, “I’ve got you. I’ve got you and I’m here. I won’t let it take you, I’ll keep you safe.”

His fingers rubbed against your scalp as he repeated it like a mantra, giving you something to cling to, just to take the weight off for what could have been seconds or minutes.

Eventually, you shuddered, fighting back a sob to croak, “I’ll come. Tell Dustin I’ll be there, I can’t wait.” Steve’s shirt soaked up your tears as you buried your face deeper into it again, the thought of leaving the house and pretending in front of more people filling you wish sick dread.

But it was better than being looked at like you were going to break apart at any moment, even if that was true.

You really shouldn’t have come.

No. No.

It was good that you were here.

The sun was shining, the air was warm and clear, and this was good.

You were good.

Right?

You had to be. You were going to be fine; this was what you needed.

The cool liquid of the homemade lemonade tickled your throat, its sourness doing a good job at wiping away the taste of metal form your tongue as you forced yourself to come back to the conversation, even as your other fingers moved restlessly, twirling the ring around your thumb, an anxious habit.

It was his ring, put there himself a couple months prior to the Upside Down. You’d both been laying in his bed, maybe not quite sober but still more than coherent.

Eddie had slipped his hand under yours, lifting it so you could both see, before sliding his ring onto your thumb, where it sat perfectly.

You’d questioned it, because his rings were as sacred to him as his jacket and his guitar, and the boy had merely given you that molten-eyed puppy dog smile, “Well, you’re sacred to me too. And we’ve always said we’d never rush anything; we’d do it at whatever pace we wanted but…” Then he’d blushed. Blushed, as he stroked over the ring. “I know I want to make this a real one, one day. So it’s a promise… If you’ll still have me.”

Then you’d cried. Realised how fucking lucky you were to be able to cherish and to be cherished by him, this soul who saw the world differently, who looked for magic and escape in every corner. Who’d never shied away from anything and worshipped the ground you walked on.

So you’d taken up his hand, brushing your thumbs over his knuckles before slotting one of your own rings onto his little finger. Then you’d kissed him, long and sweet before murmuring, “Of course I’ll have you, Eddie Munson.”

The call of your name snapped you back from that little memory, and you realised that everyone was looking at you, as if waiting for an answer.

You blinked, looking to all their expectant faces and you forced a bashful smile onto your lips, “Uh, sorry, I was completely out of it then, what did you say, Robin?”

Robin shared a look with Nancy, brief but you caught it, a twisting in your belly, “I only asked how the Hellfire meetings are going, Dustin was just telling us that uh, that everyone really likes you as… Dungeon Master?” She smiled, but there was a faint edge of tentativeness, the same almost false calm you adopted when approaching a wounded animal… that might lash out any moment.

The lemonade you’d just swallowed began to fizz in your gut, hot and uncomfortable but you ignored it, determined to have at least one normal conversation this afternoon that didn’t involve your friends looking at you like that. “Oh! Yeah, it’s going great, actually. Um… I’ve been trying to think of a new campaign for when this one runs out.” When Eddie’s campaign ran out. This whole sentence was a lie. You weren’t thinking of a new one. How could you not only replicate his flair for storytelling, but replace him? It was bad enough you had to sit on that throne and pretend it didn’t make you feel sick.

Robin’s face eased when you answered, even if her eyes did still hold the same worry and pity, the ever-present observation and waiting for an inevitable breakdown, “Oh that sounds pretty cool! Maybe we should come and see one day, the kids are always going on about it and we never did get a chance to come when Edd-” She choked off, flinching as Nancy’s foot found a home in her ankle. She grimaced, opening her mouth to… to what? Apologise for mentioning your boyfriend that everyone believed to be dead?

And there it was, the group holding their breath, the side-eye flickers to each other and the general air of, ‘Are we going to have to do damage control?’

It made your skin crawl as if it were peeling back from your bones, made you feel like you were way too exposed. And it made you feel… isolated. Alone, like there was a bubble surrounding you and keeping everyone else at bay.

They thought that their glances and whispers weren’t noticeable, but they were. They were glaring neon signs that your mask was slipping, and you weren’t convincing others as well as you used to. Maybe you never did, and they were just offering you a courtesy in turning a blind eye.

You knew they cared, you knew this came from a place of love, but you didn’t know how to explain the way it made you feel without acknowledging how close you were to slipping off that precipice.

Fortunately, you were spared the embarrassment of answering by Mrs Wheeler suddenly coming over, Sofia in toe with a jug of her lemonade, “Max!! I’ve been meaning to ask you, how is everything going?”

Max startled slightly at the question, blinking a second before she smiled a little, “It’s going great, thank you, Mrs Wheeler.” She’d been more like her old self lately, like she was determined to catch up on all the time she missed after Billy’s death, and during her recovery. She still had days where it was a struggle to move or get out of bed, her newly healed bones too stiff or her head aching, but she was doing so incredibly well. She was strong, and a fighter and it was beautiful to see.

Karen nodded quickly, sipping from her drink and she touched Max’s shoulder, “Well, if you need any help with the move, if you want any casseroles or anything brought over, just let me know. It really would be no trouble at all, hun.”

Sofia filled up her glass, smiling kindly as well, in that general openness and affection of all the mothers, “Anything you need, sweetie, I can send Dusty over with some things too. We all know how stressful moving can be, even if it is just across town.” She laughed softly, stepping back to Karen.

Why was Max moving?

You cut Mrs Wheeler off before she could speak, a frown on your face, “Moving? Where are you moving to? I thought they were rebuilding the trailer park?” You looked from Mrs Wheeler to Max, realising how out of it you must really be if you didn’t even know this.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Dustin share a nervous look with Steve, who very faintly shook his head, arms tightening as he forced himself to keep a casual posture, all the way watching you like… you were about to explode?

That grating laugh echoed softly in your head, the gentle whisper of, ‘This is going to be good.’

Karen cocked her head at you, a smile on her lips but a slight frown between her brows, trying to work out why this simple piece of information was getting you so worked up, “Oh you didn’t hear, sweetie? They’re actually going to be taking away the ruins of the trailer park and turn it into a smaller shopping complex, something between the roads and the edges of the city to bring in more tourists after the quakes.”

There was a ringing in your ears, a low resonating hum that could almost come from the mouth of the very creature that started this all. You blinked once, twice, the words getting stuck in your head and pinging uselessly off of each other, “But… Where will he go to find his things?”

Karen shared a look with Claudia, looking even more bewildered by the second, “Honey, what are you talking about? Where will who go to collect his things?”

“Oh, shit.” You barely heard Dustin’s whispered curse, the surrounding partygoers halting their conversations as more gazes focused on you.

You ignored them, even as your skin prickled and felt too exposed, stomach starting to churn, “Eddie. If they’re tearing down the remains of his home, how will he go and look to see what survived? Wayne can’t go back there, he’s too traumatised. They can’t just get rid of it all without letting him look!” Why could no one see the injustice of this?

Karen’s face betrayed how unsettled she was, the way she didn’t know how to respond to that, your conviction in Eddie and what you just insinuated.

It was Claudia who turned to face you more, setting down her jug of lemonade and she looked at the kids, before back at you, obviously not reading the clear warnings in their faces not to broach this subject, “Edward Munson died, remember? He was responsible for those awful murders, for that poor Chrissy Cun-”

“No.” You near snarled the word, strangling her words in their tracks before you had to hear the same sick accusations against him, the words that his forced him from his home, and the things he loved, and roped him into this whole Upside Down business.

You’d done so well, so so well in keeping him away from those dangers the whole time you’d been friends with him, even when that unique friendship turned into something more, best friends, before blossoming and blooming into the burning, beautiful relationship you had.

Have.

You felt rather than saw Steve move to your side, his hand touch your shoulder gently and he whispered you name, just softly, so much so that only you would be able to hear it.

But you knew that tone. That soft, pacifying tone that again reminded you of the wounded animal, the people trying to help it without making it hurt itself. “Come one, let’s go…”

You looked up at him over your shoulder, shaking your head fiercely, “No! I’m not going to leave just because I’m saying something you all don’t believe in. He’s my best friend and my boyfriend, Steve, I’m not going to shut myself away just because I believe in him.” You frowned at him then, “Besides, you all wanted me here.”

Steve flinched a little, grimacing because this situation as rapidly falling out of hand, and he didn’t know how to stop it, how to make you feel better, “I know, I know. I’m not asking you to shut yourself away, I’m just saying that…” His eyes drifted to the side, to everyone watching, “Maybe now isn’t the best time for it.”

What was happening? Why was he… Didn’t he believe you? Had he been lying this whole time?

Oh little dove, of course he didn’t believe you. You really thought your friends listened to these tales of your beloved boyfriend still surviving out there? I told you this would happen; you didn’t believe me. I know these things, and I know you better than you know yourself. I see it all.

That damn voice laughed in your head again, deep and rasping, like you were being dragged over a bed of nails.

“Isn’t the best time for it?!” You stared at him incredulously, sure you must be imagining, “Steve, when the fuck is the best time for it, then? It’s already been months. So next year then? When we’re the last people left in this fucking town that still remember him? That still believe in him?” With every question, your voice rose, drawing more and more attention.

They’re all looking at you, little dove. Your mask is slipping.

Steve let out a ragged breath, raking a hand through his hair, “We do still believe in him!! And we still believe in you, but… There has to a point where you…” He trailed off, brows lowering over his eyes and his mouth parted on empty words that he couldn’t say.

The beat of your heart tore through your chest, uneven and painful, spears of ice shooting through your chest with every pulse, “Say it.” Your voice was no more than a whisper, daring him to do this, to do something he promised he would never do.

That he promised Eddie he would never do.

But if it was watch you crumble and fade away, or hurt you now but save your life…

He closed his eyes, jaws clenched, and he spoke the damn words, “There has to be a point where you accept that he’s not coming back.” Those words came out far too easily in your opinion, like they didn’t taste as bitter as they should.

He’s been thinking them, little dove. They all have, knowing how badly you’re clinging to this hope when they all know the truth.

A mirthless laugh left your lips, and you shook your head at him, “I thought you believed me, Steve. You sat there and listened every time I spoke about it, about him and you told me everything would work out okay. And now you’re telling me I need to let it go?”

Karen looked back at the other mums, then at the pair of you, “Kids, maybe this, whatever it is, is better off somewhere else?” She faked a laugh, trying to bring that energy back to life.

Neither of you listened.

Steve turned away, running his hands through his already messy hair again before he turned back to you, “I do still believe you!! You’re not listening to me, okay?” He seemed to want to say something, but he couldn’t get the words out, “I’m terrified, okay? I’m terrified I’ll lose you, that you’ll fall into this dark cloud that’s following you around and I won’t be able to pull you out.” He held his hands out to you, pleading, begging, because you didn’t know.

You didn’t know what he’d been doing… And you didn’t know the promise he’d made to Eddie.

The promise Eddie made him adhere too, when they were lagging behind in the forest, “You gotta take care of her, Harrington. If anything happens to me, you have to promise me you won’t let her suffer. That you won’t let her hurt. I want her to have a life… To be happy. You need to promise me.”

And he’d tried. He’d tried so fucking hard.

You made a noise, splintering deeper and deeper with every single word, “You don’t know that he’s dead!! You didn’t even let me take his body back!!” Tears were glistening in your eyes, threatening to spill over… and then they did. “I was sitting there, holding him, with his – with his blood on my hands and you told me there was no time.” You sobbed, lifting a hand to your mouth, shaking as you swore you could still see the blood staining them, “So how can you stand there and tell me he’s dead? He could be down there, searching for a way out, hoping that one of us -”

“HIS BODY ISN’T THERE, OKAY?! I LOOKED!! THERE’S NOTHING FUCKING THERE!!” Steve’s eyes were wide, chest rising and falling rapidly, as those words hung there in the air. Words he could never ever take back, words he’d been holding in for nearly two months now, wanting to help you but knowing it would hurt.

And he’d just broken his promise.

Silence.

Pure silence.

Every single pair of eyes on you both, every breath bated.

You stared at him, a knife jammed in your belly, twisting, and turning, “What?” It was barely a breath again, because any more than that and you’d choke. You were choking, you were going to be sick, or scream, or… Anything.

“Steve…?” Dustin was staring at Steve with equal shock, the revelation that one of his beloved big-brother figures had been hiding the fact he’d searched for the other? Dustin’s two favourite people in the world?

Steve turned to Dustin, then to you, panic on his face as it drained of colour, but the words were out there now, and there was no way he could drag them back, “I’ve been looking, okay? I went back to... Watergate.” He sighed, “When I saw you slipping, falling apart… I couldn’t stand it. So I went to look out of curiosity, and it was like I could have strolled right in. The gates are open more than they ever have been, so I went and…” He looked over your face, sadness growing in his own and he reached for your shoulders. “There was nothing there. I checked every inch of where we were and it’s not there.”

You were going to be sick.

There was a ringing in your ears, growing louder and louder and you could hear the echo of Eddie’s screams, the screech of the bats… The scent of blood.

You shouldn’t have come here. It was too loud, too much, too many eyes witnessing the devastation of your very soul and your last dreg of hope. “What are you saying, Steve?” You couldn’t bear to hear the words, to hear what he was telling you.

What that voice , what he had been whispering.

Steve’s hands suddenly tightened on your shoulders, his head shaking fiercely, and he shook you gently, like he could make you see, “He’s gone. His body is gone, there’s no trace of it. He’s gone…” He sighed, “I’m sorry, okay? I really am. But I couldn’t let you go back in there; I couldn’t let you see nothing and lose you. None of us want to lose you.” His deep brown eyes shone with tears, pleading and sorrowful.

You stared at the faces of your friends, the ones who’d been the only reason you’d been gripping that edge by your fingertips, the only reason you hadn’t descended into that yawning abyss of darkness.

They meant well, you loved them for that but this admission… the looks, the whispers…You couldn’t take it anymore.

Not to mention Steve’s words hanging in the air like a fucking lead balloon.

He’s gone. His body is gone, there’s no trace of it. He’s gone.

Then you felt it, that tether snap, the wall slipping past your fingertips.

You were done.

All emotion dropped from your face, the blood draining from it and you pulled out of Steve’s hands, watching the heartbreak on his face as he realised what he’d done… But you felt nothing. “It’s too late for that.”

Without another word, you turned and walked away from the Henderson’s garden, from your friends.

From hope.

*~ I can't breathe, I can't be

I can't be what you want me to be

Believe me, this one time

Believe me

I'm a bad liar, bad liar ~*

You had broken your promise to Eddie.

Two promises, actually.

Before you’d gone back into the Upside Down, when you were standing in that field, Eddie had taken you away from the others, across the grass until it felt like it was just the two of you.

“Sweetheart, I… I want you to promise me something.” He lifted his hands to your jaw, tenderly cupping your face and stroking his thumbs along your cheekbones.

You frowned a little, wondering why he looked so serious and so solemn, when just moments ago he’d been play fighting with Dustin, “Of course, Eddie… What is it? What’s wrong?” You knew him, inside and out, could read the darkness lingering in his chocolate eyes.

He took a breath, as if the words were going to be difficult, “When we’re in there, when we’re doing what we need to… If something happens to me, I need you to run, okay?”

You blinked a few times, stared at him a bit. Then a laugh broke free of your lips, but it was a little off-kilter, worried, “You’re kidding me, right? Why would I leave you? You know we don’t do that.”

Eddie didn’t laugh, his eyes firm and as serious as you’d ever seen them. He shook his head, curls bouncing under the sunlight, “I’m not joking, sweetheart. I want you to run. To leave me there and get out, be safe. I can’t bear the thought of something happening to you, because of me.”

You cut him off before he’d finished speaking, lifting your hands to his wrists, and curling your fingers around them, “And I can’t bear the thought of leaving you! Of something happening to you, and you asking me to just leave you there? Eddie, how could you – how could you ask me that?” Part of you wanted to pull away, like you could pull back from his words and the insulation he was making.

But the other half… He looked so deadly serious, like he needed to hear you say this, that it would tear him up if you didn’t.

You swallowed, gazing over his features, a face you cherished so deeply, a soul you held so close even more than that. You had to. You had to grant him this… Even if deep down, you both knew you would never leave his side. A sigh left your lips, raking claws across your chest on its way out, like Vecna himself, “Okay. Okay, Eddie. I promise.”

You’d broken that promise when you scrambled back through the gate and ran for his body, ignoring his previous pleas that you leave him there to die. He should have known you’d never do that.

That you’d take the talons and bites of those bats in your own flesh before letting them touch him anymore.

The second promise, you’d been breaking from the moment Steve pulled you out.

When Eddie had been lying in your arms, far too still, far too cold, tears streaking the blood on his skin, he’d made you promise him that you’d be okay. “Don’t lose yourself for me, sweetheart. Don’t throw your life away for me. Remember that I love you, fuck, I love you so much and I won’t ever forget any of this, from the moment I met you and you made me realise the real world wasn’t so shitty. Remember that, and promise me that you’ll try and be happy, that you’ll live all those dreams we talked about.”

“Eddie…”

“Promise me, sweetheart. Please.”

“Okay… I promise.”

You couldn’t do it. Not anymore.

That conversation with Steve the other day and what happened at Dustin’s, combined with the news of the trailer park being torn down and the group missing todays DnD meeting had finally finished you.

You’d sat in that throne, his, throne for two hours, eyes fixed on the folder of notes, pages and pages of Eddie’s slightly messy but beautiful handwriting. Waiting. And waiting.

And waiting.

They wouldn’t have missed this meeting.

They had to convince you to come back to this in the first place, that Eddie would want you to sit in his throne, to use his dice set and his notes.

They wouldn’t have forgotten this.

So, you text Gareth, asking where they were and if they were going to be much longer.

And then… Then you’d gotten that text in response.

“Hey, sorry, we forgot to tell you. We can’t make Hellfire tonight; we’re holding try-outs for the band.”

Try-outs.

They were replacing him.

And that was it.

You were so tired. So fucking tired of pretending, of trying to make good on your promise and you were done. You had nothing left to give.

The tears ran salty in your mouth, an endless stain on your skin as you curled up tighter at the foot of your bed, like you could dissolve into the space beneath and escape this, once and for all. To find Eddie, to live those dreams with him.

The light from your phone was the only brightness in the room, a shitty symbol of hope in the drowning dark you were only too happy to lose yourself to.

“I can’t do this anymore, Eddie.” – undelivered.

“I can’t keep pretending I’m okay when I’m not. I haven’t been okay since the moment you cut that fucking rope and I had to claw my way back into that hellhole.” – undelivered.

A yawn tore its way free through your tears, merely hurting your already parched throat even more and you curled up tighter, despite the protests of your body. You’d been refusing to sleep these past few days, refusing to succumb to the worsening nightmares, to that snide voice that was getting louder and louder, telling you Eddie was dead and you needed to grow up.

He wasn’t dead. He wasn’t.

“I’m done with this. I’m done with walking around with a smile pasted on my face, when I really want to crawl back into that place and find you and stay with you.”

“You’re my best friend, Eddie. You’re the only one who ever truly saw me, who made me feel whole. I love you more than anything I’ve ever loved in this whole shitty world. I know it’s a cliché, I know I always said I hated that, but you are my soulmate.” - undelivered

“And you’re gone.” – undelivered.

“Come home.” – undelivered.

“Please come home. Come back to me.” – undelivered.

“I love you, Eddie.” – undelivered.

Streams and streams of messages that would never be delivered, never be answered.

Ringed fingers that would never again tumble over the screen in haste to reply back to you.

A soft smile on plush lips as he stared down at your words.

Gone. It was all gone.

You let the phone slip from your shaking fingers, dropping your forehead down to your knees because it was too heavy to hold up anymore.

Everything was too heavy.

That’s it, little dove. Give into it. Let it take you down, stop fighting.

It was so quiet, so subtle, you almost would have missed it over the sounds of your ragged breathing.

Such a tiny noise.

The soft whoosh alert noise that you didn’t even pay attention to any other time, so why would you now?

Because it was continuous. Each beat, one after the other, again and again and again.

And you knew that noise. You knew what it meant.

But that was impossible, there was no way that could be happening.

You slowly lifted your head, your heart suddenly pounding a staccato beat as you stared at your phone, face down on the floor. The noise was still there, rhythmic, and systematic, telling you that…

No.

This was someone playing a cruel trick.

You snatched your phone up off the floor, knowing this wasn’t real, this was just your desperate, exhausted brain taunting you one final time.

Four soft taps as you unlocked your phone, revealing the message thread it had still been on when you dropped it, the same stream of pleas, the same infinite loop of red exclamation marks to say –

They were gone.

The marks were gone.

And your messages…

Delivered.

No way. No fucking way. There was no way this was real.

Not just because of Eddie being…

Not just because of that.

But because, well… How?

Tremors started to run through your body, blood flushing hot and cold as adrenaline wove through your system, your consciousness jumping between viewing this realistically and screaming at you that it was happening. You’d got your wish.

“Eddie…” You breathed the word, afraid anything louder would startle that bubble and chase it away, taking the last dregs of your hope and sanity with you.

If this was someone playing a cruel joke… You wouldn’t survive this.

Someone with a twisted sense of humour, wanting to see you finally crumble and follow Eddie into nothingness.

Well, they would finally get their wish, wouldn’t they?

You were done if this was a prank.

Broken promises, a crumbled mask of happiness, your last fingertip desperately scrabbling on the precipice that had been calling to you since you felt Eddie’s final breath leave his lips.

You were kidding yourself to even entertain the idea that you could fake it for the rest of your life, how could you?

Eddie was your other half, the pair of you in each-others orbit, each-others weakness but also each-others strength.

The uneven pound of your heart was verging on painful, ribs aching like knife points as you held your breath, watching the three little dots fade in and out.

Please, Eddie. Please.

The seconds stretched on for minutes, hours, thoughts whirring out of control as you spiralled deeper and deeper on a path so cataclysmic, it was going to tear you and everything else apart.

Tears started to fill your eyes again the longer that bubble sat there, taunting you and the sickening feeling that was a trick merely increased tenfold.

And then the bubble disappeared.

Just fell from existence and dragged everything down with it.

You slumped, breath leaving you in a strangled exhale and that pain in your ribs cracked through your entire body, sucking away the final dregs of determination you were holding on with.

Finished.

The noise that left your throat next was simple.

Small. A tiny, wounded noise of agony… Of defeat.

Except, there was always one person who would make sure you never gave up, wasn’t there?

Ping.

A notification.

You stopped breathing.

You stopped thinking.

The whole word stopped.

Master Of Your Heart‍🔥🎸🦇:

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #kas!eddie #darkness at the heart of my love series #stranger things #joseph quinn #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic

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electricbluebutterflies · 1 year

Text

and it always leads to you in my hometown

Post-canon-divergent Hellcheer... fluff-adjacent? Someone described this as a dark-chocolate kind of fluff so we're gonna go with that. PG-ish and also on ao3

It becomes a routine, in the way of such things.

Chrissy gets out of Hawkins, to the surprise of most people who know her, packs her important possessions ten days after graduation and leaves a note saying she’s going to try to start over in Chicago and makes sure to call home two days later to confirm she’s still alive. She finds a life for herself in the inner suburbs, gets a job as a secretary at a law firm, starts taking night classes to become a paralegal. Does okay, in the grand scheme of things. Calls her parents every other Thursday night like clockwork because family is still family, but tries to block out the voices in her head otherwise. Heals.

But she comes home for the holidays every year, because she’s still a nice girl even if she didn’t really keep in touch with anyone from high school. There’s still the obligation to remind people that she exists and is living a mundane but happy life, and no she isn’t seeing anybody but her dog’s real cute, and what may or may not have happened in spring ’86 matters less and less every winter.

She has routines. December 23 is one of them.

The thing about her leaving that didn’t make it into the local story was exactly who disappeared for three days that summer to help her, out of the goodness of his heart and a sense of obligation after she did almost die in his trailer a couple months earlier. They became friends after that, in a trauma-bonded opposites-attract sort of way, and by the time she realized her plans would be easier with a getaway driver it was a logical enough option. Eddie is good people under all his armor, Chrissy had learned by then, one of the most loyal people she’s ever known, and that too became a routine phone call, every Saturday around noon, only real thing tethering her to what hasn’t felt like home in years and-

He stayed, to the surprise of pretty much everyone who’s ever met him. He had a younger herd of misfits to supervise for a couple years, and before that project ended he tended bars across two counties and turned out that was enough of a life, and there are people who need him, and he never really was the sort of person who actually gets out of southern Indiana, and-

December 23 is their routine, a standing meetup at dusk at a particular park shelter. Not always the only time they ever see each other – the band came up to Chicago twice this past year for different gigs and he ended up on her couch both times because he didn’t feel like being crammed sardine-style in a cheap hotel room with the other guys – but the high point of her year if she’s honest with herself. Every year she waits for something to go wrong, for him not to show up or there to be a ring on his finger that wasn’t there last time or-

She looks different now, looks different since he came up back in August – a week or two after that she decided she needed a change and she wanted a haircut like Princess Diana, and wow was that a mistake, and it’s at an awkward stage of growing-out and there was no way in hell she would’ve been able to stuff all of that in a hat. Every year she’s a little more worried about how she looks, the genuine kind of worried not like she used to be when she thought that was all she had, more like…

Chrissy is, in her way, a little bit in love. Turns out she’s a bit of a loner if left to her own devices – she has a lot of acquaintances and does get out of her apartment enough, but no one really close – and if she has to be one cliché then let her be this one. Let her be the woman who never quite got over the high-school crush she never admitted. Let her be-

Eddie’s sense of time has never been reliable, and he’s a little late but not quite enough to worry her. He’s changed too, in little ways – she can’t remember ever seeing his hair pulled back but she knows that’s probably more practical than aesthetic, and it looks like he hasn’t shaved in a day or two longer than whatever his usual routine is and goodness she shouldn’t be thinking about yanking him down and-

“You’re here,” he says, and this is why she kinda loves him, the enthusiasm in how he approaches life, no false fronts just raw emotions at all times and no self-consciousness whatsoever.

“So are you.” She can feel herself blushing, and she’ll blame the cold for this, same explanation for her hands in her pockets because she’s not sure what kind of physical control she actually has right now. At least it isn’t snowing this year. At least-

“Nowhere else I’d rather be.”

“What, you don’t have better plans?”

“I have my choice of burnt hams for the next few days. Tonight is all yours.”

The thing is, she’s not sure there was ever a time when they didn’t flirt like this, like there’s always that line they’ll go right up to but never cross. She knows he thinks she’s pretty in the most real way, and he’s been a nice daydream over the years, and-

He pulls her into a hug, and he smells like boy and home and she’s a little overwhelmed. “Keep waiting for you to cancel because you got some lawyer to put a ring on you,” he murmurs. “Can’t imagine they’d-“

“Lawyers aren’t my flavor,” she counters. “And you haven’t met some girl down here?”

“I’ve met too many girls,” he laughs, and she knows, there have been a few mistakes over the years that she got to talk down in the way only an out-of-state phone call can resolve. “Nothing stuck.”

She can’t hope. She does anyway.

Normal people, Chrissy tells herself, don’t do this. Normal people don’t linger in long-distance mutual pining for so many years because they’re too damn fragile to think about anything more. Normal people, like she’s trying so hard to be, don’t-

“Any reason for that?” she asks, and her breath catches and they’re both too close and not close enough for the conversation she suddenly needs to have right now.

“Thought you’d never ask. See, the timing keeps not being right, and who the hell am I to compete with a dog with a ridiculous name, and-“

“Excuse me, Peppermint is not-“

“So, you know. Waiting on the girl who got away is a little distracting.”

“I’m right here.”

“And you won’t be in four days.”

“You could come with. You didn’t complain about my couch last time, Peppermint likes you, and… you’re better than this.”

“What, and leave my empire?”

“Didn’t you always want to?”

He kisses the top of her head and they haven’t done that before and she wants to melt, and she feels so small and that’s nothing new but it’s always been safer like this than anywhere else. “You know how to make a proposition,” he says, and the delight in his voice is infectious. “No let’s take this slow, no let’s make out in the back of your car and see if that even works, no, you’re straight to-“

“I’m offering my couch,” she says, faking indignation. “Not my bed. Yet.”

“Exactly my point. Can’t imagine you’ve extended that offer to anyone else.”

“I’m not really in touch with anyone else from here.”

“That’s still amazing, you know that? Our former queen bee isn’t-“

“I wasn’t happy,” she points out. “That’s why I kept you. Because you make me happy.” Because none of those fake friends would’ve waited for two hours for an ambulance to show up, lied about her hitting her head on a piece of furniture because that was the best explanation they could come up with for what they didn’t understand, snuck in to visit her every day and charmed a few nurses in the process, made sure her hospital room was covered in probably-stolen flowers by the time she woke up and-

That’s the sort of experience that binds two people, and she’s spent the past seven and a half years thinking that might be the only reason he puts up with her, because he owes her after that, and… maybe that’s wrong. Maybe they’ve both always been more than this.

“Do I?”

“Yeah. Completely.”

She’s feeling impatient, and she gets her hands around his neck and pulls him down like she’s been wanting for minutes like she’s been wanting for years, and she’s kissed more people than she cares to admit but this is different. This is anticipation and awkwardness and the kind of love too many people told her she’d never actually get, and she wants to cry and she can’t cry while someone’s mouth is on hers so instead she sorta accidentally bites his lip and he makes a pretty noise and-

“You can’t just do that,” he breathes, still so very close. “Now I’m ruined for anyone else.”

“Maybe that’s what I want. Maybe I want to keep you forever.”

They do, as usual, end up in the back of her car for warmth.

This year, it’s a lot more tactile warmth.

It’s a beginning. She’s never wanted anything more.

#ebf writes fic #hellcheer #edissy

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theburningbread · 2 years

Text

Okay so post Season 4 where of course everyone lived happily and they even found Billy in the Upside Down as a little bonus. Chrissy breaks up with Jason and he knows it’s because she’s leaving him for someone else and he’s angry. So after school when everyone is leaving Jason and his little buddies stop Billy before he can get to the parking lot to confront him about it.

And Jason is standing there puffed chest and pissed off telling Billy that they didn’t get anywhere as a team until he was gone, and how no one would give a fuck about him once he graduated just like no one cared when he died. And Billy’s just standing there, eyebrow raised, smirk growing with every word that comes out of Jason’s mouth.

And then like a beautiful cherry on top Jason finishes by saying, “Chrissy took a step down just to be with some man whore from California who’ll drop her ass in a week.”

And Billy fucking loses it, absolutely cackling in the middle of the road after he realizes Jason is mad about Chrissy, laughing so hard that even as he starts to come down from it he sounds like he’s fucking giggling. He has to wipe his eyes when he’s slowed down enough to catch his breath.

And Jason is of course, furious. Because the guy who stole his girlfriend is now laughing at him in front of all of his friends.

“You two stupid blonde bitches are perfect for each other,” Jason says, done with it and ready to leave.

And Billy’s smile stays on his face but it very quickly goes from “this is the funniest thing I’ve ever heard” to “no one will miss you when I throw your body in a lake”. He even steps closer to Jason, getting in his face. Jason should feel safe with all his buddies behind him but he saw some of them literally step back when Billy stepped forward.

“Chrissy leaving you for me would be the best thing she’s ever fucking done, Carver. I’m smarter than you, I’m stronger than you, I’m better looking than you, I have a future further than being some loser rich kid who peaked in high school, I’m better than you in every single way,” Billy says, voice level, but the look on his face haunting.

Still Jason tries to defend himself, “You couldn’t even get us to the championships last year since you were so busy fucking with Harrington,” Jason says. He’s talking about the two of them being more interested in each other than they ever were playing the game.

Billy thinks he doesn’t need to know it was because he was literally fucking with Harrington since the week he got there to the week he died. He’d picked it back up again now too, of course.

“You talking about Sinclair’s trophy, Carver? Wasn’t even your win, and no one in this entire world is going to give a fuck about a basketball trophy you won in high school in the middle of bumfuck Indiana, dumbass,” Billy said, his face slipping back into simply being amused.

“It’s a good thing Mommy and Daddy’s money is gonna pay your way through college because I heard you didn’t even pull a scholarship?” Billy said, getting closer, “And you want to know the funniest part?”

Jason just glared at him... but knew how quickly this would go south if he took a swing.

“The best part of it all, is Chrissy didn’t leave you for me,” He finished.

And Jason’s too tense to really even process that comment, but Billy’s done with him so he just laughs, turns around, and walks away. He heads towards the parking lot, towards Eddie Munson’s van because somehow Munson was driving Billy Hargrove and his little sister home to and from school every day.

Munson greats him, everyone in the parking lot is reminded again how weird they find that, and then both Eddie and Billy’s head turn as the school doors burst open with a pack of cheerleaders.

And everyone who witnessed Billy and Jason talking is now watching the group of girls because right in the middle is Chrissy. They all watch Chrissy wave goodbye to her friends and start to jog away, straight towards Billy. She even speeds up so she’s almost running towards the van, and everyone in that parking lot watches as Eddie Munson spreads his arms and Chrissy Cunningham jumps into them. She wraps her arms around his shoulders and her legs around his waist and the small question left in people’s mind of “no... really?” disappears as Eddie’s hands land on her ass to keep her held up.

Her and Eddie are immediately chatting with each other. Her ponytail bouncing around as she looked back and forth between him and Billy as she talked to them both still wrapped around Eddie. They see Billy snort and turn to open the side door of Eddie’s van before he climbs in.

And then with no Billy right next to them, Chrissy leans down from her new height and kisses Eddie, in the middle of the parking lot, a week after she broke up with Jason and a month before graduation.

It’s surprisingly sweet to most people, and kept chaste as Billy’s sister walked up to the van and climbed inside after her brother. Eddie simply puts Chrissy down, the two of them smiling and their eyes filled with hearts as they looked at each other and then she goes and gets in the passenger seat of the van. But once Eddie’s alone he looks around, and directly at Jason.

A wide grin spreads across his face and he makes a grand gesture towards the still open door of his van with both arms and an expression screaming, “Join us, friend!” and Jason has never felt more emotions at once than at the sight of Eddie asking him to join them. He puffs out an angry breath, but before he can take a step forward he’s shoulder checked from behind.

Jason just stands there and watches as Lucas Sinclair jogs past him after almost knocking him to the side. Everyone realizes instantly that Eddie didn’t give a shit about Jason, he hadn’t even noticed him, but he had been the only person who had seen Lucas just come out of the school from the doors behind Jason.

Eddie and Lucas greet each other, and then Lucas climbs into the back as well joining those already in the van and shutting the door behind him.

Eddie, without looking back turns and leaves, getting into the drivers seat of his car that’s full of new friends and a new girlfriend, and he without a second thought towards the school, the student body, or Jason Carver, drives away.

#Mine #eddissy #chrissy cunningham #billy hargrove #jason carver #eddie munson #background harringrove #lucas sinclair #max mayfield #background lumax

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pearlypairings · 6 months

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⭐️

OKOKOK So I delved deep into my old, ancient files for you to pull out something special for this director's commentary...because why not lol.

it's a deleted scene from Do or Die's epilogue! A little speech from their graduation via Principal Higgins that when I was in the final stages of editing, it felt like too much in that particular moment...

So here's the unedited, deleted memorial speech he gave for Hawkins High:

Now at the football field for the real ceremony, Chrissy tried to keep her focus in the present. She wanted to fully breathe in the final moment of her adolescence that was nearly swept away from her...and Eddie. Their principal cleared his throat for one more announcement before their names would be called. “Today is a reminder of what our youth can accomplish together with resilience, persistence, and collaboration with their peers and our staff. As upcoming members of our community, every student sitting here has met the requirements needed to graduate while conquering the unexpected obstacles that Hawkins has thrown their way. Despite the horrific events of Spring Break, our senior class came together to work hard academically, support one another, and even fundraise for a class gift to memorialize the students we’ve lost this year.” Unveiling a bronze plaque behind a sheet on an easel, Principal Higgins gently laid his hand on the etched names listed down the center. “For Jason Carver, Patrick McKinney, Andy Johnson, Fred Benson, and the like. This will be hung in the main lobby for our forever Tigers."

Chrissy breathed deeply through the pain in her chest to stay calm. She’d known this announcement was coming for a long time, as she’d always been a part of the Hawkins’ graduation committee which usually decides the class’s parting gift. It felt good to honor the victims of Vecna somehow, even if the town didn’t fully understand their sacrifice. “Today, I also recognize not everyone we loved in this community could be in the stands for our graduates. Our natural disaster had taken many people from us too early as well. For all untimely departures, I ask now that we, in solidarity, hold a moment of silence in their memory.” To her left, an empty chair sat a few spots down the row from her seat. One of the symbolic gestures for the loss in the Hawkins community and their senior class. She squeezed her hands, remembering how misguided Jason’s last actions were. If he only saw the truth, Chrissy hoped he would have seen what path he should have taken. She fixed her bangs to cover her forehead, shaking her head and thoughts of things she couldn’t change away. She didn’t have to turn around to know her father would be keeping his chin held high for her mother, putting on a brave face for everyone else. Instead, she shut her eyes tightly to remember all the grounding techniques Ms. Kelley taught her as she shifted through grief and resentment. A profound sadness resounded in that long minute of shared silence. Principal Higgins cleared his throat over the microphone again. “And so, we remember our friends and family that would be gladly celebrating this academic achievement today. Let’s commence with announcing our senior students who will receive their diplomas and our congratulations with special honor.”

I'd probably edit this a bit more and fix a few awkward parts if I'd had the intention of sharing lol, but in the end I wanted the epilogue to focus more on eddie and chrissy's relationship and their bet than anything else !

But hope you enjoyed this director's cut :P (I also had a Nancy Wheeler name called for graduation part, but it was mostly making fun of Ted lmao)

ask me for more director's cuts!

masterlist for ask reference :)

#thanks losty :)#do or die #hellcheer #deleted scenes #hellcheer fanfic #director's commentary #pearly answers #eddie x chrissy

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flamingo-writes · 2 years

Text

Caught Fire [Preview] — e.m.

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

This is the preview of the monstrous fanfic I’ve been writing for the past week. The whole fic will be post tomorrow when I’m done proof reading it. Here is a small preview!! I made a post about it two days ago

This fic will have approximately 15.5K words! (Don’t ask me how it happened Idek)

If you wish to be tagged in this, let me know!

Genres: fluff, angst, hurt-comfort, smut, non canon, Eddie gets to graduate! Strangers to friends to lovers, slow burn ish? Idiots in love and too stupid to realize it.

That night, as he drove you back home at the usual ridiculously early curfew your father set, he parked in front of your house. You’d gone to the arcade and spent the afternoon trying to beat as many high scores as possible, competing between the both of you. And on the ride back home, you found one of the many D20 bouncing around in the cup holder of his van, and grabbed it and played with it in your palm for the entirety of the ride. As you say your goodbyes and as you were about to go inside your house, you stopped on your tracks and hopped back to his van.

“What’s up?” He asked once you opened the door and you returned the D20 to the cup holder.

“I was about to kidnap this little guy” You said, making Eddie chuckle as he grabbed it and handed it back to you.

“No, keep it” He said smiling softly at you. “Think of this as a piece of me…”

“Ed–“

“This used to be any other D20, like the other eight I have lying around somewhere in this same van…” He chuckled. “Now it’s yours. Keep it safe for me, yeah?” The smile he gave you was to die for as you rolled your eyes playfully.

“So dramatic…” You chuckled, as he smirked.

“A token of my trust, my gratitude, even a piece of my heart of you will,” He joked, playing along and moving his hands in a dramatic gesture.

“Alright then, Eddie The Freak Munson…” You chuckled. “Good night,” You purred as you leaned forward and kissed his cheek before sprinting out of his van and running towards your house.

If you had stayed for two more seconds, Eddie would’ve seized his chance and would’ve kissed you right there and then. Although, the flip his heart made and excitement rushed through his body, soon he felt the gloom washed over him, reminding him that you had your days counted in Hawkins. And with every passing day, you were closer and closer to leaving to New York, making him feel slightly bitter, and even sorry that he didn’t get to meet you before. You had spent almost four years there, and him six, and he had to meet you after you returned from Spring Break.

Just like every end of term, there was a party where pretty much everyone was invited and everyone attended. Even him, although he went more as a business trip, selling joints and weed to people at the party, and also because you’d told him you were going to be there. However, you were nowhere to be seen yet, and he came across Chrissy Cunningham. The sweet little cheerleader he had the pleasure of making a drug deal shortly before Spring Break. And most likely, the girl to steal his heart if you hadn’t come around exactly one month after his drug deal with Chrissy. He had felt that romantic curiosity and attraction towards her when they first talked in the woods, but that was before you came along. However, some sort of residual feelings were still there.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie stranger things #stranger things x reader

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hilarychuff · 1 year

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fear street 1994 in my stranger things au graphic series

When Robin hears about the so-called poolside slayings, she’s frankly not that surprised. It’s terrible, obviously. Horrific, really. But for Shadyside? Yeah, it’s not surprising. It seems like everything that can go wrong will in this town, and they can never go more than a few years without a serial killer or mass murderer or fucking fairytale freak like the Humpty Dumpty Killer reminding them that everything in Shadyside will always turn to shit. So when Billy Hargrove pulls on a pair of giant swim goggles and goes on a killing spree that ends with him shot dead with his knife still buried in Heather Holloway’s chest, well, it’s honestly sort of par for the course. At least the pool was about to close for the season with the school year starting anyway.

Still, everyone’s talking about it at school when Robin shows up the next day, both decorating Heather’s locker with pictures and notes and also dragging slashed CPR dummies through the hallways while cackling like a witch. Because yeah, apparently all those murders are the witch’s work. At least that’s what Steve says Dustin is saying when she meets up with him and Nancy at lunch. Things have been weird between the two of them since their breakup last year, but Steve’s new job as the assistant gym teacher after he graduated last year has them brokering a tentative peace, and when it comes to this, they’re on the same page: The witch did it.

Or, not really. They’re just joking. They don’t really buy into the whole we’re-all-fucking-doomed thing the same exact way Robin does, the same way Dustin fiercely believes that the witch is real. They’re just coping the same way everyone in this town seems to: by making it all one big joke. But at least they care. Deep down. The Sunnyvalers — the Sunnyvalers don’t even see any of them as real people. And they make that perfectly clear at the vigil for the victims Mayor Kline hosts before the big Shadyside-Sunnyvale game.

Robin doesn’t see any of that, though. She doesn’t hear the Sunnyvalers talking shit, doesn’t catch who threw the punch. No, Robin’s not on the field at all. Instead, she’s over by the bathrooms, lurking in the dark, waiting for Chrissy to show up so Robin can give her all of her stupid stuff back. She hadn’t been mad earlier, before the game, but when she’d seen Chrissy — when she’d seen Chrissy standing with her new boyfriend, the stupid football player’s hands all over Chrissy’s ass — her vision had gone red, and it had stayed that way, and it continues to stay that way as the sheriff breaks up the fighting, as Steve shepherds the Shadysiders back onto their bus, as Nancy whips everyone on the bus into a vengeful frenzy.

The haze only clears when the water cooler slips out of Robin’s hands and bounces off the windshield of Jason Carver’s car, sending him and his friends careening off the road and into the woods. Because Chrissy was in that car. And Robin had known that, had seen her sitting in the front passenger seat, and that had been part of what drove her anger hot enough to grab the water in the first place. She’d only wanted to piss Carver off, maybe get him to stop fucking following their bus all the way home. She’d meant to throw its contents, not the cooler itself, but when she loses her grip it’s almost like being doused in ice water herself, the burning rage from a moment ago extinguished in one panicked flash.

When Robin stumbles into the woods, it only takes a moment to follow the tracks and find the wreck, the car smashed against a rock with Carver and the other jocks still inside. It takes another moment, a longer moment to spot Chrissy, but then Robin sees her, in the dirt on her hands and knees, face pale and eyes far away, blood dripping from her nose and a gash on her temple.

After that, Robin thinks nothing in the world could tear her away from Chrissy. It doesn’t matter that they’ve broken up, that Chrissy is closeted, that she has a new boyfriend and a new life in Sunnyvale. Forget their fight, that Robin is a doomed Shadysider and Chrissy has literally moved out and moved on to better things. With Chrissy in the hospital, Robin is determined to make things right. Make this work. But it turns out, there is one thing that can stop her in her tracks: the stern voice of Laura Cunningham demanding that Robin stop calling, accusing her of ruining Chrissy’s life completely.

So Robin gives up, goes back to her life, accepts that it’s over. For real. At least until Carver shows up outside of her house wearing giant swim goggles and holding a knife. When he actually breaks into Steve’s house and starts cutting up his clothes, that means war, and before she knows it, Nancy and Steve and Dustin are waiting down the hall at the hospital while Robin goes to tell Chrissy to call her boyfriend off. Only when Carver shows up — when a knife suddenly juts out of his chest, blood dribbling out of his mouth — it becomes clear he really isn’t the one in the costume. Someone else is wearing it, someone else who wants them dead. Someone who looks suspiciously like Billy, the bullet hole still centered between his brows.

It doesn’t take long to realize that Chrissy is the one he’s after. That he’s not the only crazed killer after her. They’re all back, all of those claimed by the witch, and the curse is real, and the killers are determined to see Chrissy dead. Well, Robin’s not going to let that happen, and with Steve and Nancy and Dustin on their side, they’re all determined to get to the bottom of the mystery, to break the curse, to put the witch’s bones to rest. First, though — first, they’ll need to live long enough to do it.

ft. robin buckley as deena, chrissy cunningham as sam, jason carver as peter, nancy wheeler as kate, steve harrington as simon, dustin henderson as josh, heather holloway as heather, billy hargrove as ryan, eddie as martin, mayor kline as mayor goode

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dontfeeltoohot · 2 years

Text

Breakthrough AO3

Stranger Things Steddie Rating: T Words: 3.5k Warnings: None Summary: 1986 was supposed to be his year. He'd already defeated a hoard of bats and helped save the world with none other than Steve freaking Harrington. But now he's pissing his pants while seizing on the floor of the Hawkins High cafeteria, with everyone watching. And if that isn't a mood killer, he isn't sure what is.

X X X

Eddie hasn’t had a seizure since he was fourteen. Childhood epilepsy, they’d called it, when he went for a follow up at 16, still seizure free. Before then, he’d had seizures at least twice a year, sometimes more, especially when he’d been in elementary school. The guitarist remembers in second grade having multiple seizures in one week. But for the past 6 years, Eddie has been seizure free. He’s also, however, been fever free, not getting sick to any major degree aside from a couple of stress induced headaches and a bout of food poisoning in sophomore year.

It’s just over a month after Vecna had almost won, but they had come out on top, defeating the…man, if he could be called that. Eddie’s name is cleared, but it’s obvious most people either don’t believe it or simply don’t care. He doesn’t sleep well, doesn’t eat much, he’s stressed and on edge most of the time. The guitarist wonders how everyone else seems to be able to cope and move on while he’s stuck waking up screaming in bed during nights when sleep does come, throwing up from nightmares about Chrissy and the way her bones snapped. Nightmares about Steve dying from demobats haunt him. Steve. His…something. They’ve kissed twice, but haven’t talked about dating yet. It’s all new to Steve and Eddie hasn’t wanted to push him or make him feel rushed.

Waking up, the trailer is uncomfortably cold for it being almost May. A chill runs through his body, and Eddie shivers, feeling oddly achy. His eyes feel weighted, like he can barely hold them open, his body feels almost weak, and it makes him start to entertain the idea of skipping classes. Then his brain reminds him belatedly that he has a month until he graduates, and if he misses anything important it could mean another year of hell for him. He refuses to let it happen, would rather be eaten by a billion demobats and get rabies, so Eddie gets out of bed and starts toward the shower, hoping that after he washes up he’ll feel better.

The warm water helps the chill, at least until he’s back in his bedroom, pulling on jeans and a soft black shirt. Rummaging through his drawers, he finds a dark grey, acid washed sweater, tugging it on as well, ignoring the fact it’s seventy three degrees out and sunny. Towel drying his hair, the guitarist coughs a couple of times, his throat not exactly sore, but not exactly not-sore either. After pulling on socks, his Reeboks and his watch, Eddie grabs his bag and heads to school.

The morning is hazy. He feels trapped in a dense fog, everyone who talks sounds far off. Blinking makes him feel dizzy. In the hallway he bumps into at least four people, mumbling out an apology to the couple of cheerleaders he accidentally catches. Getting to his locker, the curly haired man rests his warm forehead against the cool metal, debating heading down to the nurse. Footsteps approaching seconds later, he forces himself to push off from his locker, looking up to see Robin, her face a mess of worry and anxiety. Unable to be bothered with keeping up theatrics, Eddie just stares at the girl.

“Are you okay? You look like shit.”

“I…feel like shit.”

Robin’s hand presses into his right cheek and he can’t stop the small strangled noise that works its way up, the coolness overwhelmingly nice. Fuck it feels good.

“You should go home, you’re like…really warm.” She bites her lips and her arms wave around. It makes Eddie’s head hurt just watching them move.

“I’ll be okay Buckley, almost halfway through the day anyway.” He hopes it sounds convincing.

The warning bell rings and the guitarist gives her a small smile before heading off to Mr. McAllister’s class- European History. The only reason he’d chosen the class in the first place, back two years ago, was because he found that he could model some of the d&d campaigns off of different wars. He’s gotten an A in the class each year, so he’s figured why change and risk just another reason to hold him back again.

Sitting in the back of the large classroom, Eddie’s head throbs. The few times he’s glanced up, Mr. McAllister’s eyes have been on him, but he can’t bring himself to care. His face feels like it’s burning, but his body feels ice cold, and everything hurts.

“-nson!”

Eddie’s aware his name is being called, so he looks up to find the teacher; and most of the class, looking at him.

“S-Sorry, what?”

“I asked if you’d heard my last question, obviously not.”

“No,” Eddie says dumbly. A few kids snicker, and one of the guys from the basketball team mutters something about him being strung out on drugs. He’s not taken drugs at all today…or had he taken some earlier? Suddenly he can’t remember. Shit, why can’t he remember? The class continues, but Eddie goes back to keeping his eyes closed. McAllister doesn’t call on him again.

Sitting at the lunch table with his head pillowed into his crossed arms that are laid out on the table, Eddie shivers. He doesn’t need to see everyone around him to know they’re looking at each other with worried and confused expressions. He hears Jeff mention drugs, and the twenty year old tenses, suddenly angry, angrier than he’s felt in a while.

“I didn’t do drugs, Jesus Christ! Might be a dealer and smoke weed but I’m not doing fucking cocaine! I feel like shit, I need to lay down, and your mindless conversations about me are moronic. Get a clue for once in your life Jeff!”

Everyone’s silent. Jeff’s eyes are large and he looks shocked, like someone’s just dropped a huge bomb on him. The younger Hellfire members' mouths are open. He’s ready to go off on them too, to let his wrath reign over them, when a sudden sense of deja-vu washes over him like a douse of cold water. Eddie feels like this exact thing has happened already, like he’s rewatching a memory. He feels like he’s floating outside of his body, like he…

Like he’s about to have a seizure.

Oh fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fucking fuck.

Eyes bright with fever, he turns to look at Gareth, the person he’s known the longest, the only other person besides Jeff and Tim who knows about his childhood epilepsy. Swallowing thickly, feeling like his body is crawling out of itself, Eddie grabs Gareth’s arm awkwardly, half gripping it, pulling the sleeve.

“Gar’th,” his voice comes out slurred, and the man looks at him with a furrowed brow. Jeff and Tim move closer and all three band mates seem to come to the realization at the same time.

“Oh shit, someone go grab a teacher, now,” Jeff’s voice is loud, and when no one moves, Tim shoves Henderson almost completely out of his seat.

“He’s about to have a seizure! Get someone to call 911!”

“A seizure?!”

“GO!”

Wheeler is up with Henderson, yelling for help and running to a table where a few teachers are sitting.

“S’alright man, you’re gonna be fine, hold on..” Jeff and Tim move him, getting him on the floor. Gareth yanks off his jacket and shoves it under Eddie’s head and neck.

Eddie lays there, blinking. He can’t figure out how to move his tongue, to talk, or to do anything. He feels so off and wrong and his stomach is twisting, he wants to ask what’s happening but his mouth won’t work. He thinks he hears Gareth say something to him, he tries to respond but he only produces a grunt. His head shifts to the side involuntarily, his mouth opens a bit. The blinking continues, staring at the ceiling. He feels hot, like he’s burning up, like fire is consuming him. A whine crawls out of his throat. He tries to move his arm, tries to tug at his sweater, desperately wanting it off.

1986 was supposed to be his year. He'd already defeated a hoard of bats and helped save the world with none other than Steve freaking Harrington. But now he's pissing his pants while seizing on the floor of the Hawkins High cafeteria, with everyone watching. And if that isn't a mood killer, he isn't sure what is.

Then his world fades, and everything goes black.

The curly haired man’s muscles tighten, body tensing, his back arches. From his abdomen up, he starts to shake- not extensively, not hard, but it’s enough for everyone to see. Then his left arm raises slightly, jerking, his left leg copying. Jeff sees a dark stain appear on Eddie’s jeans and he winces, getting closer to the man, hoping to shield him from the prying eyes of Hawkins High. Everyone in the cafeteria is quiet, only a few whispers about what’s happening. Two teachers, the nurse, and Principle Higgins are suddenly right there, and there’s a siren in the background to alert someone that the ambulance is almost here.

The seizing slows, tremors running through his body. His head is still shaking, eyes still fluttering abnormally, eyes rolled into the back of his head. His jaw is clenched tight, his right hand is flexed. Eddie makes these choking noises, like his throat is constricting. A moment later, a paramedic and emt move in, the silver-tuned stretcher behind them.

“What’s his name?”

Tim blinks as the woman shifts Eddie onto his left side, maneuvering him so his right leg is bent with his knee towards his chest, left leg and arm extended out, and right arm bent and under his head.

“Eddie, Eddie Munson,” Dustin supplies from where he’s standing behind the older teens, looking wide eyed at the leader of Hellfire, still unconscious.

“Is this his first seizure?”

“No,” Gareth shakes his head. “No, he had uh…childhood epilepsy? But he grew out of’em right before highschool…or during ninth grade, I can’t remember exactly.”

“Okay, so about four years then, since his last?”

“Six, he’s twenty.”

The paramedic’s brow furrows as the emt checks his blood pressure, heart rate and respirations. “135 over 89, heart rate at 117, respirations 13,” the younger man calls out.

“Right, six years. Is he on anything? And before you say no, we can’t go to the police with this, this is just to help make sure your friend is safe.”

The three older teens look at each other.

“He takes shit sometimes, but I don’t think he did today, and he didn’t last night. We were all together for uhhh…a club. And he never does anything on those nights, never when there are kids he’s gotta watch.”

The woman nods, writing something down. The emt whistles, a hand on Eddie’s forehead, sweat slicked and pale. “He’s got a hell of a fever.”

“He said he felt like shit, he seemed pretty sick all morning,” Tim chimes in, biting at his nail.

“Is he allergic to anything?”

“Other than cats, I don’t think so,” Jeff shakes his head, watching the emt press down on Eddie’s fingers.

Eddie stirs a moment later, eyes fluttering open. Everyone can see the confusion and exhaustion in his eyes. He looks around, making no attempts to move out of his current position.

“Hey Eddie, I’m Laura, this is Chris. We’re here to help, okay? You had a seizure,” the paramedic explains, voice calm and relaxing. “You’re going to be confused, it’s ok. Your friends say you weren’t feeling well before either. We’re gonna get you up on the stretcher and go to the back of the ambulance to check you over more,” she explains everything.

He feels like he’s been hit by a train. He’s not sure what’s happening. Everything sounds garbled and feels far off. A woman in all blue is crouched next to him, powder blue gloves touching his forehead. Eyes flirting around, Eddie makes out Gareth, Tim, Jeff, Dustin and Mike all staring at him looking terrified. Why?

“Eddie?”

“Mm…” he tries to say…anything but it’s impossible. His tongue feels heavy and his jaw hurts.

“Do you know where you are? What happened?” Laura asks, and Eddie manages to shake his head no.

“You’re at school, you had a seizure,” she says again, and Eddie half understands. He lets out another groan and shuts his eyes, head throbbing enough he feels like it might explode. His entire body aches, his limbs feel like jello, and his brain feels like it’s been tossed in a blender. He’s nauseous and confused, and he wants to go home, go and find Steve, have a nice long nap with him.

“Alright honey, we’re going to move you okay? Just up to the stretcher, it’ll be quick,” Laura explains, head nodding towards the stretcher that’s now been moved to its lowest height, a foot off the ground. Laura and Chris pick him up, one at the head and one at the feet, then pull straps over his lap and legs.

“Mm..h-had se’zure?” Eddie looks around, feeling sick enough he doesn’t care that half of Hawkins High is watching him. He spots Robin with a few of her band friends. The second she sees him, she starts moving forward. He must make enough movement, because the first responders look up, along with the teachers and Principal Higgins.

“Eddie! Holy shit, oh god, are you okay? I mean obviously you’re not okay, but..but oh god, I’ll call Steve, yeah? And Wayne, an-“

“Miss Buckley, I know you’re worried, but let him breathe,” Higgins puts a hand on her shoulder and she scrunches her nose up.

“Th’nks,” Eddie mumbles to his friend, shivering. Chris pulls a blanket up over his clothes, and the guitarist holds it close. God he’s cold.

Laura and Chris start wheeling him to the ambulance. He shuts his eyes, unable to keep them open any longer. Exhaustion permeates every inch of him. By the time they get the gurney strapped into place on the truck's metal floor, Eddie’s becoming slightly more coherent. He coughs, too tired to truly cover his mouth.

“Your friends said you hadn’t been feeling well today, Eddie?”

“W-Woke up sick. Felt like shit before th’seizure, feel worse now.” Shivering even with the blanket, the paramedic takes a plastic instrument and slips it under his tongue. It beeps twelve seconds later.

“101.5. No wonder you feel so terrible.” She gives him a sympathetic look. “Now normally we’d give you a choice about heading to the hospital, but having a seizure means you might not be of total sound mind, so we’re going to bring you in,” she explains.

“‘Kay,” he nods, too tired to argue. God Steve and Wayne are going to rip him a new one for even going to school. He hopes Robin or Dustin actually call them. The ride lulls Eddie to sleep, even with all the bumps and sharp turns.

XXX

“I need you to know he’s okay and I talked to him, before I say anything else,” Robin’s voice crackles across the phone.

Steve’s mind goes blank. He knows exactly who Robin means when she says ‘he’. He means Eddie. The same man who he went to hell and back with, the same man who he’d kissed a week ago, and then 3 days ago. The same man he’s had a crush on since he’d held a damn glass bottle to his throat. Swallowing, the nineteen year old tries to compose himself, heart racing.

“What happened?!” His hands mess with his shirt, anxiety through the roof. He needs Eddie to be okay.

“He had a seizure in the cafeteria-“

“A seizure?!!”

The ex-swim captain doesn’t know much about seizures, aside from what he’d learned as a lifeguard. He knows they’re dangerous and can cause a lot of damage. He’s never heard of the older man having seizures before, so what does this mean? Is something wrong? It has to be, no one just has a seizure without something being wrong.”

“-rth to Steve!’l

“What!!” Steve growls, then realizes it’s Dustin’s voice now.

“He was okay when the paramedics left with him. He was…kind of talking, and he was looking at things and stuff. But he was sick today. Like…really sick. He looked like shit. I don’t know if that was because of the seizure, but Robin says he told her he felt like shit before. Oh! And Gareth said he had…had something…”

“Childhood epilepsy! He used to have seizures,” Mike’s voice is loud through the phone and Steve white knuckles the tan plastic.

“Okay, okay! Everyone shut up. I gotta find my keys and go see him. I’ll call and update you guys. Go to Dustin’s…or…something. I don’t know. But everyone can’t just come bursting into his room after school. And someone call and tell his uncle.”

The drive from his house to the hospital is just under ten minutes while ignoring the speed limits that are posted around town. His whole body feels like a live wire, which makes Steve smile a little, remembering the song by Motörhead that Eddie had showed him a few weeks back. Pulling in quickly to the now well-visited hospital, he jogs inside before his brain reminds him he might not even be able to see the man, not when he isn’t family. Walking up to the receptionist, he lays his charm on thick, thankful the woman doesn’t seem to be too old for the Harrington magic.

“Can I help you?”

“Hi, I’m looking for a friend? I think he was brought in a few minutes ago, his name is Eddie Munson,” Steve explains. “I was hoping to see him, his uncle is on the way but he’d hoped I could check on him, Eddie’s pretty anxious about hospitals and well…his uncle seemed pretty distressed.”

It’s not exactly a lie. Eddie isn’t a fan of hospitals, and while he hasn’t spoken to Wayne, he has no doubt it’s how he’ll react. He’s gotten to see just how close the two are, even if he wouldn’t have expected it at first. Wayne may be gruff and a little hard to get to know at first, but he loves his nephew, and Steve’s grateful for it. Everyone should love the twenty year old.

The woman, no older than 30, looks at him and then bites her lip. “Give me just a second.”

Blowing out a breath, Steve waits, drumming his fingers restlessly on the fake wood desk. He wonders if this is the kind of energy Eddie feels most days, and why he can’t stop moving- the need to be doing something, to be helping, to be seeing the ones he cares about. A minute later the woman comes back out, giving him a somewhat nervous smile.

“You can come on back. Just try not to be too loud, technically you’re his brother right now,” she whispers to him. He thinks he could hug her.

Steve passes a few rooms, trying to keep his face forward, not wanting to make awkward eye contact with any of the other patients. The woman shows him into room 7, where the glass door is shut. Steve thanks her and then opens the sliding door, closing it back and turning. Eddie’s laying in the hospital bed, looking smaller than usual. His skin is pale, his cheeks are flushed. He looks exhausted and feverish and miserable. What catches Steve off guard is how still he is, how unmoving. There’s a heart rate monitor on his finger, and an IV in his arm, fluids hanging from a pole next to the bed.

“Eddie.”

In a matter of two seconds, he’s sitting on the bed, hand finding the others. Even just barely touching the other, Steve can feel the fever-heat pooling off of him. Eddie looks up at him, eyes half open.

“Stevie.”

He sounds like he can barely talk from how tired he is, and Steve’s chest aches. He reaches out and brushes some of the wispy hairs around the man’s face away. Eddie leans close, groaning almost inaudibly from the movement. Steve’s not sure what a seizure feels like, but he saw Maria Lochley have one in third grade and he can still remember perfectly how her body had flopped around on the gym floor. He’s sure Eddie must hurt all over.

“God, Robin and Dustin called…I’m so sorry, I’m sorry that happened. They said you’ve had them before?” He shifts a little, biting his lip.

“Yeah…when I was a kid. Grew out of’em, or so I thought.”

Steve wants so desperately to kiss him, tell him it’ll be okay, that they’ll figure it out together. Instead, a doctor walks in, looking between the two boys before moving closer. Steve gets off the bed and stands in the corner, trying to be as unobtrusive as possible.

“We’re going to refer you to a neurologist, since you’ve had a breakthrough seizure, Mr.Munson. We’re also going to get you back for a scan of your head, just to make sure the seizure wasn’t caused by any kind of mass,” the man explains. Eddie nods but Steve can tell he’s too tired to fully comprehend everything. His fever-pink cheeks are a glaring indication he needs to be resting, he thinks, but he also knows checking for masses is pretty important too. Eddie rubs his face with shaky hands as the man walks out.

“You’re going to be okay. And I’m here with you while you get there,” Steve promises. Eddie grins lazily.

“You’re a big ol’softie Steve Harrington. Glad we met officially, and you weren’t the dickhead I thought you were.”

“Right back at you Ed’s.”

#my fic #em #sh #st

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eddiewmunson · 2 years

Text

Breakthrough AO3

X X X

“Are you okay? You look like shit.”

“I…feel like shit.”

Robin’s hand presses into his right cheek and he can’t stop the small strangled noise that works its way up, the coolness overwhelmingly nice. Fuck it feels good.

“You should go home, you’re like…really warm.” She bites her lips and her arms wave around. It makes Eddie’s head hurt just watching them move.

“I’ll be okay Buckley, almost halfway through the day anyway.” He hopes it sounds convincing.

“-nson!”

Eddie’s aware his name is being called, so he looks up to find the teacher; and most of the class, looking at him.

“S-Sorry, what?”

“I asked if you’d heard my last question, obviously not.”

Like he’s about to have a seizure.

Oh fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fucking fuck.

“Gar’th,” his voice comes out slurred, and the man looks at him with a furrowed brow. Jeff and Tim move closer and all three band mates seem to come to the realization at the same time.

“Oh shit, someone go grab a teacher, now,” Jeff’s voice is loud, and when no one moves, Tim shoves Henderson almost completely out of his seat.

“He’s about to have a seizure! Get someone to call 911!”

“A seizure?!”

“GO!”

Wheeler is up with Henderson, yelling for help and running to a table where a few teachers are sitting.

“S’alright man, you’re gonna be fine, hold on..” Jeff and Tim move him, getting him on the floor. Gareth yanks off his jacket and shoves it under Eddie’s head and neck.

Then his world fades, and everything goes black.

“What’s his name?”

“Eddie, Eddie Munson,” Dustin supplies from where he’s standing behind the older teens, looking wide eyed at the leader of Hellfire, still unconscious.

“Is this his first seizure?”

“No,” Gareth shakes his head. “No, he had uh…childhood epilepsy? But he grew out of’em right before highschool…or during ninth grade, I can’t remember exactly.”

“Okay, so about four years then, since his last?”

“Six, he’s twenty.”

The paramedic’s brow furrows as the emt checks his blood pressure, heart rate and respirations. “135 over 89, heart rate at 117, respirations 13,” the younger man calls out.

“Right, six years. Is he on anything? And before you say no, we can’t go to the police with this, this is just to help make sure your friend is safe.”

The three older teens look at each other.

The woman nods, writing something down. The emt whistles, a hand on Eddie’s forehead, sweat slicked and pale. “He’s got a hell of a fever.”

“He said he felt like shit, he seemed pretty sick all morning,” Tim chimes in, biting at his nail.

“Is he allergic to anything?”

“Other than cats, I don’t think so,” Jeff shakes his head, watching the emt press down on Eddie’s fingers.

Eddie stirs a moment later, eyes fluttering open. Everyone can see the confusion and exhaustion in his eyes. He looks around, making no attempts to move out of his current position.

“Eddie?”

“Mm…” he tries to say…anything but it’s impossible. His tongue feels heavy and his jaw hurts.

“Do you know where you are? What happened?” Laura asks, and Eddie manages to shake his head no.

“Eddie! Holy shit, oh god, are you okay? I mean obviously you’re not okay, but..but oh god, I’ll call Steve, yeah? And Wayne, an-“

“Miss Buckley, I know you’re worried, but let him breathe,” Higgins puts a hand on her shoulder and she scrunches her nose up.

“Th’nks,” Eddie mumbles to his friend, shivering. Chris pulls a blanket up over his clothes, and the guitarist holds it close. God he’s cold.

“Your friends said you hadn’t been feeling well today, Eddie?”

XXX

“I need you to know he’s okay and I talked to him, before I say anything else,” Robin’s voice crackles across the phone.

“What happened?!” His hands mess with his shirt, anxiety through the roof. He needs Eddie to be okay.

“He had a seizure in the cafeteria-“

“A seizure?!!”

“-rth to Steve!’l

“What!!” Steve growls, then realizes it’s Dustin’s voice now.

“Childhood epilepsy! He used to have seizures,” Mike’s voice is loud through the phone and Steve white knuckles the tan plastic.

“Can I help you?”

The woman, no older than 30, looks at him and then bites her lip. “Give me just a second.”

“You can come on back. Just try not to be too loud, technically you’re his brother right now,” she whispers to him. He thinks he could hug her.

“Eddie.”

“Stevie.”

“God, Robin and Dustin called…I’m so sorry, I’m sorry that happened. They said you’ve had them before?” He shifts a little, biting his lip.

“Yeah…when I was a kid. Grew out of’em, or so I thought.”

“You’re going to be okay. And I’m here with you while you get there,” Steve promises. Eddie grins lazily.

“You’re a big ol’softie Steve Harrington. Glad we met officially, and you weren’t the dickhead I thought you were.”

“Right back at you Ed’s.”

#my fic #stranger things #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington

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